Dark Slayer

Ivory nodded. «Xavier will make his move against you very soon.» She looked at Raven. «You already have a daughter and now, with a son, he cannot afford to let you or your children live. He will come after her.»

Mikhail slipped a comforting arm around Raven's shoulders. «We are prepared.»

«Is that why your warriors surround this house?» Razvan asked.

Mikhail nodded. «We are all uneasy. The attacks are becoming frequent, picking us apart, one by one, going after the children during the day, using their puppets. They wear us down. It was a shock to have the two of you show up. And, of course, as mentioned earlier, the timing is highly suspicious.»

«But not to you?» Again Ivory met his gaze. Steady. Challenging.

He sent her a small smile. «The weight of my people has been on my shoulders a long time, Ivory. I do not have my father's gifts, but I have good instincts. I have to trust them. Few things are certain in this world. I choose to go with my instincts about the two of you and with Gregori's opinion. The combination has rarely failed.»

Gregori gave an inelegant snort. «Never, you mean. I do not make mistakes when it comes to your safety.»

«I do believe Razvan managed to hold a knife to my throat with you not twenty feet away,» Mikhail pointed out with amusement.

Ivory realized the relationship between the two men was one of close-knit friendship and camaraderie.

«I paid him a great deal of money to do that,» Gregori said. «I wanted you to realize, as our prince, you shouldn't be chasing vampires all over the country and Razvan agreed to help teach you a lesson.»

Raven laughed. «You two are impossible. I can feel our guests' hunger. Perhaps you should do something about that so we can visit,» she suggested.

«We are capable of hunting,» Ivory said, trying not to sound stiff. It was one thing to take blood when she was helpless, something altogether different when she was fit. She was a warrior, not a child.

«There is no need,» Mikhail said. «I offer my blood freely.»

The prince smiled at her. Easy. Friendly. Making her stomach knot up. She didn't have friends. She didn't know how to have them. What did he want from her? What was he expecting? The room felt too small. She could barely breathe the air.

It matters little what they want from us, Razvan reassured. We need nothing from them-they need us. Anything we choose to do is our decision. We have no sworn loyalty to this man. We are set on a path and we will continue down it. There is no harm in listening to him. His blood is pure and carries more power than any other. If you do not wish to feed from him, I will do so and feed you later.

She heard the cool resolve in his voice and her stomach settled. She had stayed alive by being aware of everything around her, of avoiding others and taking great care to put herself in the most advantageous position should she need to fight. Razvan was doing the same.

Ivory had carefully chosen the chair they were seated in so that no one could slip up behind them or get too close from either side. Raven and the prince were quite vulnerable right in front of her. She knew the prince had deliberately seated himself in a position of weakness to take the edge off her sharply honed wariness of such situations and, while she appreciated it, she still wanted to leave.

It was difficult to maintain composure when too many hearts beat, the sound of blood roared through veins, emotions seemed too raw around her. When she'd been alone for so long, being crowded into a room-albeit a spacious one-still was uncomfortable. She forced a smile at the prince, inclining her head like a princess. «We thank you for your generous offer.»

It was Razvan, more than her, who was uncomfortable with the feeding process. He didn't like taking blood from a wrist, and she felt his instant aversion to the idea when the prince so casually offered his wrist. She took the blood without hesitation, willing to draw attention away from Razvan.

«I offer you my blood, Razvan,» Natalya said into the silence. «I wouldn't mind experiencing the bonding process with you all over again.»

Razvan went absolutely, utterly still. Ivory felt his instant rejection, his complete withdrawal. His skin went to a pale white, almost transparent, and the lines in his face deepened.

«I am not the prince, but as your sister, I offer to you freely.»

Every muscle in his body tensed, although he looked as calm and serene as ever. He simply stood and glided away from Natalya, putting distance between them though a slight smile softened his mouth and his eyes were sad. He inclined his head toward her in a gesture of respect.

«You honor me, little sister, but I cannot accept such a gift.»

His stomach churned and bile rose. Ivory slid her tongue over Mikhail's wrist to close the wound and straightened slowly. Razvan looked calm, but she could feel the tension mounting in him.