The farmwife made the sign of the cross in the air. Ivory answered her with the same sign and the woman relaxed and tossed her curved scythe onto the pile of tools.
CHAPTER 8
Ivory walked from the barn toward the stable, her head up, her eyes glowing a strange whiskey gold as she approached the building. From his position inside the stable, where he now waited for her, Razvan could see her advancing, each confident stride carrying her closer. She took his breath away. She definitely had an otherworldly quality, as if the legend of the Dark Slayer had come to life and moved with grace and elegance through the snow.
The vampire toying with his victim looked up as the horses, nervous and stamping in their stalls, suddenly quieted. Pigs stopped squealing. The stables went eerily silent.
Ivory flashed a small smile toward the vampire. «I do not recognize you, but I see you have no table manners. Perhaps you wish to taste something much richer.» Deliberately, her eyes on the vampire, she set her teeth into her wrist.
Razvan noted the vampire immediately lost interest in the human, dropping him to the floor, where the farmer did his best to crawl away while the vampire was fixated on the sight of those small white teeth sinking into a delicate wrist. Two beads of blood welled up, ruby-red, dotting her smooth, petal-soft skin. The fragrance of her drifted to the vampire mixed with the tempting scent of Carpathian blood.
Razvan watched as the farmer crawled toward a broken board in the wall. Instead of creeping through the hole in the wall, he reached to try to pry loose the board for a weapon. Razvan materialized on the other side of the wall and leaned in, finger to his lips. Taking a cue from Ivory, he sketched the sign of the cross in the air between them, knowing neither a minion sent from Xavier nor a vampire would do such a thing. When the man's eyes cleared and he nodded slightly, Razvan beckoned to him to slide through the ragged hole. As the man crawled into the snow, Razvan took his place, donning the illusion of the farmer's body and clothes.
The vampire shuffled closer to Ivory. He bowed, smiling at her. As further evidence that he was recently turned, his teeth didn't have the spiked points, nor were they stained black. He still maintained his rugged good looks. «What are you doing wandering around alone without benefit of protection?»
Ivory smiled sweetly. «What makes you think I am alone? Or without protection?» Keeping her gaze locked with his, she licked at the blood drops, closing the wound and depriving him of the treat he was so looking forward to.
The vampire shook his head. «You have no protection, lady, or I would feel them near.»
Ivory made an elegant, derisive sound that wiped the smile from the vampire's face. «You did not hear me. Why, then, would you think you could hear my lifemate? You were so busy toying with your food, you forgot the most basic of all lessons. It is no wonder that you will not survive this night.»
She poured contempt into her voice, yet she sounded very much the lady. Soft-spoken, nonthreatening, delivering the reprimand from princess to peasant. Razvan's admiration for her grew. She mesmerized the vampire without doing anything but talking. The undead had all but forgotten about the lowly farmer. He didn't view the human as a threat at all. Instead, he concentrated his attention on Ivory, wanting her rich Carpathian blood, a treat for a vampire who had recently turned.
The vampire scowled at her. «You dare to reprimand me when you walk the night alone? What are you doing here?» His voice turned wily and what he perceived as suave. «And such a beautiful woman, too. I have need of a lifemate.»
«Your youth is showing. So impetuous and wrong. Only those newly turned vampires still believe they can force women to become lifemates. Too bad you will not have the time to grow experienced.» She tilted her head to one side and studied him, her gaze sweeping him up and down. «You are new enough that you still have your looks. Looks are wasted on the young.»
Before he could reply her hand went to the loops on her holster and she flung six coated arrowheads into his chest in a straight line up and over his heart. Razvan rose to his feet and punched through the chest wall hard, the vampire blood burning over his arm and fist. He had so many scars that he barely felt the bite of the acid as he gripped the heart and began to extract it.
The vampire roared and slammed his head against Razvan's. He tried to dissolve, but the coated arrowheads prevented his chest from shifting to vapor. Raking at Razvan with talons, he tore the flesh from the heavy muscles covering Razvan's chest in an effort to dig through and get to his heart. Razvan yanked his arm back, using more strength than he had thought it would take. The heart was black, but still a normal size.
«Do not look at it. Incinerate it,» Ivory said.
Razvan called down the lightning, careful to keep it from striking anything but the vampire and his heart. He bathed his arms and hands in the white-hot energy field. «Controlling the lightning is difficult. I almost missed and nearly hit you.»
«I was prepared for it.» She sighed and regarded him with worried eyes. «Hesitation can get you killed. You were on him fast enough, but you cannot count him dead until the heart is incinerated. You should have burned that first. A more experienced vampire would have repaired himself while you were still marveling at your work.»
Razvan laughed aloud. Killing vampires was dirty work. The fetid breath and claws tearing into his chest and belly had been both frightening and exhilarating. He'd done it. He'd killed his first vampire. It hadn't been a perfect kill, but he had destroyed the undead and saved the farmer. It felt good to do something positive instead of waking up to find that his body had impregnated a woman, or delivered a poisonous blow to his sister or her lifemate. There was no way to tell Ivory how he was feeling, so he didn't try. He flashed her a smile and bowed.
«I will remember.»
She was certain he would. He looked so happy standing in that bare, run-down stable with his clothes torn to shreds and his blood streaking his chest and arms and belly. She ran her worried gaze over him. Blood dripped steadily, but there was light in his eyes and in his mind. He made her feel humble with his simple pleasure in doing something she considered a job. He considered it good.
«Thank you for allowing me the experience. It is the only way I will learn to become an asset on our hunt.»
Ivory shrugged, feigning indifference when everything feminine and nothing warrior about her was reacting to that look in his eyes. «It was your plan,» she pointed out.
He flashed a half grin at her, shrugging modestly. «In the old days, before I realized Xavier was in my mind, I was good at planning battles. I kept myself sane, exploring his weaknesses, and everyone else's as well. The vampires. Carpathians. Even the Lycans. But one day I realized that whenever I discovered that Xavier had a weakness it suddenly would be found and shored up. I was aiding my own enemy.»
She wanted to comfort him, to just wrap her arms around him and hold him close; instead she leaned down to casually pick up her arrowheads and place them in the small pouch at her side. Razvan wasn't asking for pity; he was stating a fact. But it struck like a blow, that boyish memory that had to hurt like hell. «You took the vampire down fairly easily. And that's what counts.»
«I am grateful you let me practice on him. Thinking it through in one's head is not the same as actually experiencing it. Taking the heart was harder than I expected. I am strong, and yet you make it look easy when it is not. There must be a trick to it that I have not gotten yet. But I will. I do think I had an advantage in that I can barely feel the burn of the vampire's blood anymore.»