«He was evil then and he is now,» Manolito said. «He has banded with the Malinovs and is implementing the plan we devised. Now that we know what he is doing, Zacarias will take word to Mikhail and we will send out emissaries to each of our allies and try to stop him before he goes any further. But first, I have to stop Maxim.»
«Oh dear,» Sarantha looked at her lifemate. «Maxim is such a troublemaker. He cannot accept his mistakes. He refuses all responsibility, and until he atones in some way, until he learns, he cannot move on.'»
Manolito pushed himself to his feet. «I cannot stay longer. I fear for MaryAnn's safety. It was an honor to see you both.»
«I will come with you and see what I can do to help,» Vlad volunteered.
Manolito shook his head. «You know you cannot. This is my problem to solve. I am trapped in two worlds and cannot live in both. This is my burden alone, sir, but I thank you for wanting to shoulder it with me.» He gripped his prince's forearms in the time-honored manner and then leaned down to kiss Sarantha. «I will give your love to your family.»
«Be well, Manolito,» Sarantha said.
«Live large,» Vlad added.
Manolito strode back through the trees, looking back once for a glimpse of the leader of his people. Sarantha and Vlad had their arms around each other, their bodies giving off a faint glow of light that seemed to grow stronger, more blinding in the midst of the gray, dank world. The sight of them, so in love, so bound to each other, made him long for the same thing with MaryAnn. He sighed and resolutely turned back to face the path to the meadow. A slight wind blew through the leaves in the small grove of trees but failed to reach him, even when he lifted his face to try to feel the breeze.
How could he uncover Maxim's plan? The vampire would never trust him, never believe he had come over to his side. What was left? Vlad had said that the undead had devised ways to torture and drive one mad. How did you drive a spirit mad? Or for that matter, torture one? He frowned as he mulled it over. A war of the wits then. There could be no other answer. For good or evil, he had to risk everything for his people-and for MaryAnn. If he was wrong…
He shrugged and proceeded to the belching, steaming meadow where the veil of mist hung low and the bubbling pools of mud spit out dark, ugly stains. Maxim and his army of undead waited on the other side. He could see shadows moving in the dull gray of the mist, eyes glowing red and voices rising on the steam.
He streaked across the space, avoiding the plumes of steam and sudden hissing geysers as they spouted into the air, throwing more of the dark mud in all directions. He burst through the veil of mist, straight into the center of the vampire circle.
Maxim hissed his surprise and stopped dead, arms still raised in the air. The chanting faltered, and the others forming the circle around Maxim stepped back, covering their faces.
Maxim forced a smile, showing the pegs of his stained teeth. «I see you have returned to us, old friend. Join us in our little ceremony.»
«I certainly did not mean to interrupt you, Maxim. By all means, you and your friends continue with what you were doing.»
«You do not mind, then?» Maxim asked, with a faint, deadly smirk.
«No, of course not.» Manolito folded his arms across his chest.
Maxim raised his arms and began chanting once again. The vampires circling him moved their feet in a hypnotic pattern and began to lift their voices in a mesmerizing incantation.
Manolito deliberately walked around Maxim, studying him from every angle, watching the flow of his hands, committing each movement to memory.
Maxim sighed and dropped his arms. «What is it?»
«Carry on, Maxim. I am just contemplating where I have seen this particular spell used. I believe it is one of Xavier's earlier works, when he first was attempting to bind the shadow warriors to him. We studied him, remember? He was a brilliant man.»
«He is a brilliant man.»
«Not so much anymore,» Manolito said in disagreement. The other undead had once again stopped their chanting and were watching. «He has grown senile. He lives off the blood of our people, but he was never meant for longevity and his mind is going.» He stepped closer to Maxim and lowered his voice so only the master vampire could hear. «He no longer can produce new spells. He has to have others, lesser mages, do it for him.»
«You lie!» Maxim hissed. «I know you lie.»
«You know I do not,» Manolito replied calmly, once more circling Maxim. «You have always been of superior intelligence. I do not flatter you when I remind you of that. You could reason things out. Xavier lacks the ability to think of anything new. He relies heavily on the things he knew before, and I doubt he remembers much of that.» He stopped again on the vampire's other side and whispered in that ear. «Why do you think he seeks the book?» Xavier had compiled his spells into one book, now guarded by the prince of the Carpathians.
Maxim growled and swung his head back and forth, his eyes glowing with red-hot flames. «He is a powerful man.»
Manolito nodded and once more began walking in a circle, moving his feet in a dance pattern as he went, watching the master of the undead try to follow the intricate, hypnotic steps. «Very powerful. In spite of the fact that he no longer makes up his own spells, he is still a powerful mage. But he cannot do what he promises you and your brothers. He cannot open the portal to allow your army of the undead to come forth. That's why he has given you the ancient spell of the shadow warriors.»
Maxim continued to turn in a circle with him, following his every movement with suspicion. When Manolito
stopped and leaned in close, he automatically did the same.
«He knows Vikirnoff's lifemate can send the warriors back to their own realm. He was using her spells, and now he no longer has control of her. He's left with nothing, but dares not let Ruslan and your brothers know the truth. Of what use would he be then to them?» Before Maxim could answer, Manolito once more took off circling.
The vampire gripped his own head in agitation and screamed, the sound rubbing across nerves like sandpaper. «It does not matter, Manolito. Xavier did not figure out what to do; Ruslan did, and he is always right. Always. Zacarias was a fool to follow Vlad instead of Ruslan. We had a code, a blood oath, and you broke it.»
«Our blood oath was to one another and to the prince, Maxim. The De La Cruz family was always loyal to the Malinovs.»
«We gave you the opportunity to join us. We talked all night of it. You insisted on following the prince and his murdering son.» Maxim spat out the last words, his face contorted with hatred and rage. He stepped up toe-to-toe, staring Manolito in the eyes, so that the red flames burning in his sunken eye sockets were plainly visible. «Betrayer,» he accused. «You deserve to die.»
Manolito didn't flinch away from the foul stench of Maxim's breath or the savage hatred on his face. «I did die. How else would I be here?»
«You went back, and that means it is possible. Xavier will find a way to return me to the others or he will die a long, painful death. He knows not to betray us. Our memories are long, and you will suffer for your betrayal.»
«Will I?»
Maxim's fury erupted so strong there was no containing it. He threw back his head and howled, reaching to seize Manolito's shoulders with his claws, the talons piercing deep and tearing through the flesh so that blood ran and the other vampires erupted into a frenzy, racing forward in an attempt to lick at the dark red streams.
For one moment, pain burst through him, bright and hot, twisting his gut and beating at his brain, but Manolito quelled his body's reaction and stayed perfectly still as the vampires swarmed around him. He shoved down his revulsion and smiled at Maxim, his gaze calm. «Do you think to trick me so easily? It is an illusion. Nothing more. You cannot kill what is already dead. I have no body in this place. These fools want to believe, but even they can only taste the dirt on the ground as they root around.»