Dark Slayer

Razvan did as she asked without hesitation, sliding his arm around her waist while smiling amicably at the couple on the porch.

Ivory bowed slightly. «I hope that you both have a long and prosperous life.»

He will expect us to attempt to erase their memories. As Ivory explained she took a step back, as if they were leaving. When I go to do it, he will most likely strike at me, at my mind. If you join with me, we will be far stronger and we will have a chance, but we might not live through this. Now is the time to walk away if you wish to fight another day.

But you will fight for these strangers. He made it a statement.

She was not going to allow Sergey to take any more from her than had already been taken. I have to. It was that simple. She no longer knew if she was driven by honor, but she could not walk away from these people and allow Sergey to murder their children and turn them both into the walking dead. I have to, but you do not.

Razvan flicked her one telling glance of reprimand. Tell me what you want me to do.

She allowed a small smile in her mind to warm him, her only offering of thanks when they could both lose their lives. Merge with me. He will strike hard and fast, hammering at me to get in, especially if I can manage to free the couple from him. You will have to hold.

Ivory turned to the couple, lifted her hands to the sky and chanted.

I call to air, earth, fire and water, I ask you to send me the voice of power. Deep within these darkened souls, Send forth my voice so that which is dark may be seen and unfold. Allow what was hidden to now be seen, So that I may cast out that which is unholy and unclean.

As Ivory chanted, Razvan felt the force of the vampire's attempted entry, battering at their shared minds. The blow nearly drove him to his knees, shattering all preconceived notions of power. The sky darkened and the ground shook. Pieces of the roof splintered off into large spears and hurtled down on them. The ground heaved upward, and scorpions poured out of the earth, blackening the snow, a moving carpet of lethal insects.

Razvan instinctively shoved Ivory away from him and took to the sky, going up and over the disintegrating porch roof. The rapidly gathering storm clouds burst, raining acid drops, so that everything the liquid dots hit sizzled and burned. Trees shrieked, the branches trembled, leaves and needles withering under the deadly assault.

Ivory spun away from the swarming insects, rushing the porch, yanking the man and woman up into her arms. The farmer dropped the pitchfork he'd grabbed, shocked that the vampire had controlled him. At least Ivory had managed to break them both free of the vampire's hold, but she felt it was due more to him orchestrating his attack then her strength pitted against his.

«My children,» the woman sobbed.

Ivory tried to protect their skin as she carried them to the meager shelter of the trees. The acid rain poured down, burning through the wolf pelts so that the animals shifted and shrieked in pain. The woman screamed as drops sizzled over her arms, but Ivory, with a renewed burst of speed, moved them into the thicker canopy.

«Stay here. We will get the children free of him. My wolves will protect you.»

She turned back to aid Razvan in the rescue of the children, streaming through the fiery burn of the rain while her skin burned to the bone.

Razvan streamed down the chimney, and into the tiny room. A boy of perhaps ten lay sprawled on the floor, blood smearing his mouth. The little girl, with a bone-white complexion and eyes too big for her little face, looked to be no more than five. The vampire laughed as he ripped at her neck, his teeth tearing into tender flesh.

The sight sickened Razvan, conjuring up too many memories, the feel of his own teeth tearing into childish skin. His stomach heaved. He had no experience fighting, but he had power and strength and determination beyond anything conceived of by the undead. It mattered not at all to him whether he lived or died, or how much suffering it took to extract the child. The vampire, on the other hand, wanted to live.

Razvan sped across the room like a human bullet, taking his human form at the last possible moment, slamming his fist deep into the wall of Sergey's chest while dragging the child out of his arms and tossing her toward her brother. She landed like a rag doll, broken and sprawled out across the sheep rug.

«Press your hand to the wound on her neck,» Razvan snarled at the boy. «Press it hard.»