Dark Slayer

The wolves drove the ghoul backward, teeth clamped around each arm, the alpha going for the throat while the other wolves grasped legs and held him. Vampire puppets were extremely strong, programmed by their masters for one task; very few things could stop them once they were set on a path. The wolves tearing at him did little other than keep him on the ground beneath the writhing mass of silver fur.

Ivory felt the surge of power crackling in the air and rolled closer to the boy. «Hurry up. We are about to have some very unpleasant company.» She kept her body between the child and the snarling, writhing ghoul and whatever else was coming at them.

A man broke from the trees, sprinting fast. «Travis! Trav! Are you all right?» He skidded to a halt, taking in the ghoul, the wolves and the woman aiming the very lethal-looking crossbow right at his heart.

«Gary! That's Gary,» the boy yelled, his voice bursting with relief.

«Stay away from the wolves,» Ivory cautioned. Her gut tightened. Now she had two humans to protect. Neither seemed shocked at the ghoul, nor at her appearance, as if a female hunter, a pack of wolves and a mindless assassin were everyday occurrences. She knew little about Carpathian politics, and didn't want to know more. She was a slayer. And a vampire was close.

One of the wolves yelped, and out of the corner of her eye she caught movement as the ghoul flung one of the smaller females. The body dropped almost at the feet of the man called Gary. He leapt back, eyeing her warily.

«You have a vampire coming down on top of you,» Ivory pointed out. «Move or die.»

Above his head, in the whirling mist of snowflakes and fog, she could see the outline of the grisly form of a vampire. Power radiated from him, and her heartbeat ratcheted up a notch. This was no lesser vampire; she'd fought enough of them to know.

Gary dove toward the boy, landing belly down, crawling the rest of the way. Travis sank down in the snow in an attempt to cut the wires from his ankles.

The vampire struck at her wolves, raising his hand to call down the lightning, thrusting the white-hot bolt at her pack, uncaring that the monster he'd created might be in the path of destruction. She slammed the bolt with a second one, driving the sizzling, crackling energy away from the writhing bodies. A tree exploded just beyond the wolves, the splinters and debris raining down on the ghoul and the pack. Her pack leapt back, circling the puppet, paying no attention to the vampire, leaving him to Ivory.

Gary rolled to finish extracting the boy, shielding the small body with his own as Ivory fired one of her small arrows into the vampire's chest. It hit him just below his heart, and he turned his head, deigning to acknowledge her for the first time.

Ivory's breath caught in her throat. A small sound escaped. Stunned, she could barely stammer, nothing coherent emerging from her.

Gary looked at her sharply, and then up at the vampire as the creature slowly lowered himself to the ground. The caricature of a man had probably been handsome at one time. He was well built, with wide shoulders and long hair that once had been thick and full, but now the vampire obviously didn't bother to hide his evil appearance. His skin was pulled tight on his skull and his teeth were sharp and pointed. He not only looked strong, but the power radiating from him hung in the air. The glowing eyes were locked on the female hunter, but he looked nearly as shocked as she did.

«Sergey,» Ivory whispered.

The vampire winced visibly at the sound of her sweet, pure voice. He stood a long moment in silence, his looks subtly changing. In the blink of an eye his teeth were not long, pointed and stained, but white and straight. The face was fuller and the eyes had gone dark. The ghoul moved and the vampire merely flicked a hand toward him to freeze him where he was. Even the wolves didn't move; they were statues, staring at the woman and the vampire as they faced one another.

«Ivory?» The voice grated. He cleared his throat. «Ivory?» he repeated and this time the tone was beautiful. Gentle. Affectionate. His hands came up to cup the shaft of the arrow where black blood dripped down his chest. «You are alive.»

Her hands trembled and she took a breath. One. Just held it and then released the air in a long gasp as if she was fighting to breathe. Her gaze dropped to the arrow in his body, the blood slowly dripping down his shirt and welling around the entry wound.

«Yes,» she whispered. «I am alive and my soul is intact. How is it that you, my beloved brother, would join the ranks of the evil ones who would destroy your sister? Answer this for me.» Each word was squeezed painfully from her heart, constricting her throat, threatening to strangle her with raw grief and the terrible sense of betrayal.