He forced a smile, but the dread in his stomach had grown and he knew something was definitely wrong. “Just as a precaution, everyone needs to move down to the safe room. Don’t give Marie or Angelina any trouble, even if it takes a long time. Remember the new baby. We don’t want her to be alarmed. Jubal is coming, and we’ll be all right, but we have to make certain everyone is in the safe room just in case.”
Ginny picked up Alexandru and Angelina took the twins. Jennifer took Stefan’s hand. They immediately complied without asking questions.
Travis went room by room, making certain all the children were safely down in the room Mikhail and Gregori had provided. He made his way back to the sitting room. Paul was outside on the verandah, pacing back and forth. He had gathered up weapons, slinging them over his shoulder and looping them through his belt. Travis’s mouth went dry but he did the same, slowly donning all the weapons one needed to fight off a vampire or his puppets. Rogue packs of werewolves required silver stakes and silver knives. He added those as well before joining Paul on the front porch.
The feeling of impending doom grew in him, a dark dread that seemed to swallow him whole. He risked a quick glance at Paul, hoping he would see something there to help him shake off his anxiety, but Paul looked every bit as grim as he felt.
“They’re all in the safe room,” he reported, managing to keep his voice steady.
“Jubal is around the back. He feels it, too.”
“A vampire?” Travis asked almost hopefully.
“No vampire can be out at this time of day. Not even the Sange rau. Our own mixed bloods have managed every now and then, but it still takes a toll. To battle in the sun, I don’t know what that would do to one of them.” Paul shook his head. “We just have to hold out until the sun goes down.”
“What are we facing? A rogue pack?” Lycans could be out during the day, and certainly a pack of werewolves could as well.
The wind rushed toward them, carrying the scent of burning brimstone, a sulfuric stench much like burnt rotting eggs. Paul caught Travis by the arm. “Get inside now. Hurry. Don’t argue with me, just do it.”
Travis wanted to protest. He needed to help protect the younger children, but the urgency in Paul’s voice alarmed him. He retreated indoors, going to the window, notching an arrow tipped in silver into his crossbow.
“Jubal,” Paul called. “Do you smell that? What is that?”
“Hellhounds,” Zev answered, striding into the yard, his long dark coat swirling around his boots. “Hounds of hell. Mage magic.”
Jubal skidded to a halt when he caught sight of Zev, his eyes going wide in shock at the sight of a Carpathian walking boldly in the sun. Travis came out of the house as well, standing uncertainly on the porch.
“It just made sense, after all the things Branislava told me about the High Mage, that he would come after the children,” Zev said. “I caught their scent in the wind and pushed it toward you, hoping you’d be prepared.”
“How do we prepare?” Jubal asked.
“This is not the first time I have encounterd them. We need oil. Hyssop oil.” Zev looked around, found an old cooking pot and quickly summoned the oil. “Dip your arrows in that. Coat every weapon you have. If necessary, pour it over yourself. The oil will continue to flow as needed.”
“They’ll be faster than you can possibly imagine. When you fire at them, aim well ahead of them. Some will have more than one head. They’ll be huge and frightening. Their eyes will glow, some red and some a hideous yellow. Try not to look directly at them.”
“Hounds of hell,” Paul muttered. “Heralders of death. Anyone who looks . . .”
Zev shot him a look and Paul fell silent. “They are that only because the mage puts a spell on them and uses them to bring his plague to those he wants dead. Don’t let their saliva get on you, or their blood. They’ll carry the plague in teeth and claws. Shoot them through their eyes, and if you can’t hit that target, aim for the throat. It won’t kill them, but it will slow them down.”
The ground vibrated. The pot of hyssop oil shook, the oil forming large rings.
“Take cover,” Zev commanded. “Take your time with each shot. Place it ahead of the hound. Remember, if there’s more than one head, all three have to be hit in the eye.” He turned his attention to Travis. “Go for the throat, it will buy you the time you need to take a steady, true aim. Don’t panic, that will get you in trouble every time. I’ll be right here.” Zev used his calmest, most steady voice, low yet carrying the weight of his authority and knowledge.