“Because I’m willing to die and I have a knife in my hand. So does Genevieve. I can kill myself before you make it to me. You have to know Tariq converted me. I may be new at this, but I’m fast.”
“You would kill your lifemate as well,” he pointed out.
“She’s a little girl.”
“She’s nothing.” Contempt was written on Fridrick’s face. “Food for the master’s puppets. So many children—sometimes for fun we put them in the hold of the ship and let the puppets in with them. So amusing. I will allow you to watch the show, just for not coming to me the first time I told you to.”
“We don’t have much time,” Charlotte said, her chin up. She couldn’t think about children down in the hold of a ship screaming as the puppets were let loose on them. She just couldn’t. Right now, it was all about Liv.
“Tariq will be coming after me any minute. I won’t give up Amelia, and Emeline has a concussion. She can’t be moved. So if you want to make the exchange, it’s for Vi and me and you have to do it right now before the hunters come. They’ll come in force, and once they do, you know Tariq will never negotiate. I’m his lifemate. He won’t give me up.”
She sounded convincing. Very convincing. Tariq was proud of her. She appeared as she had in the parking garage, a woman of courage who had no idea who she was squaring off with. She treated Fridrick as she might a human male threatening her. Blaze, in Genevieve’s form, hovered behind her just as Vi had done in the garage.
Fridrick smirked at her and beckoned with one long-nailed finger. “If you want her, come to me then.”
“I’m not moving until I see her,” Charlotte said stubbornly. “Compulsion doesn’t work on me and time is flying by.”Charlotte! What have you done? On cue, Tariq sounded the fearful and outraged lifemate, left behind because he couldn’t stand the sun. Do not give yourself to the undead. I forbid this. He used the Carpathian common telepathic path. I am coming for you. Get away from him.
The corners of Fridrick’s mouth widened, not so much into a smile, although it was certain he thought he was smiling, but more like an open gash where his mouth was, revealing his teeth. He wasn’t bothering with his appearance and his teeth were not nearly as white as they had been in the parking garage.
“How sad for a once-great warrior that he cannot control his woman.” Still smirking, Fridrick began to unweave the safeguards on the warehouse. His hands flashed with blurring speed as he removed them and flung open the door. He turned to wave Charlotte and Genevieve inside.
Tariq struck, materializing in front of Fridrick, his fist slamming into the vampire’s chest, fingers grasping at the withered heart. Fridrick screamed, blood and spittle spewing from his mouth.
“Kill her. Kill her.” The vampire shrieked the command even as he bent his head to tear at Tariq’s flesh, trying to get to an artery before Tariq could extract his heart.
Val and Dragomir pushed past into the warehouse, Siv and Nicu flanking them. Puppets rushed them. Two of the giants turned toward the cage where Liv huddled, making herself as small as possible. Lesser vampires appeared, one after another, rushing into the warehouse at Fridrick’s bidding. Blaze leapt into action, following the vampires, Maksim materializing at her side.
The scent of brimstone filled Charlotte’s lungs. It was ghastly and stung her eyes.
Hyssop oil, Charlotte. I need it now—pour it over me. Quickly.
Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat. I have no idea what that is. She didn’t. Tariq was calm, but he clearly needed the oil and fast. Fridrick writhed and fought, punching and kicking and biting, trying to keep Tariq’s hand from extracting his heart. Finally, in desperation, he caught Tariq’s arm with both hands and exerted all his strength to keep the hunter from withdrawing his heart.
The ground shook. Inside the warehouse Charlotte could hear screams and curses, the sound of agony and victory, but outside the air was heavy with the scent of burning asphalt and all insects had gone quiet.
Suddenly a pot of oil was at her feet and she looked around to see Dragomir striding toward her, a bow and arrow in his hands. He looked grim, even for him. He tossed her a bow and arrow as well. “Pour the oil over your man and dip your arrows in the pot. If you have to, cover yourself in oil. They’ll be fast. Faster than you can imagine, but you’re Carpathian. That makes you fast.”
She’d never shot a bow and arrow in her life, but something horrible was coming and she needed to keep Tariq safe. Even as she flung the pot of oil over him, Fridrick’s brother Georg leapt from the roof onto Tariq’s back. Dragomir was on him in seconds, moving so fast he was a mere blur. Instinctively she flung oil over Dragomir and turned to face whatever was coming at them.
What is it? She had to know.
Hellhounds are coming.
Hellhounds? She didn’t know what they were, either, not really, but it didn’t sound good. Her stomach dropped as the ground shook as if an earthquake were trying to shake the asphalt apart.
You can do this, Charlotte, Tariq said, as calm as ever, as if he weren’t fighting for his life. The pot will always be full of the oil. You’ll need it. Aim ahead of them and let them run into the arrow. Go for their eyes; that’s the kill shot. A throat shot will slow them down.
Dragomir added his advice. Don’t look directly into their eyes. Don’t allow their blood or saliva to touch you. If you have no choice, make certain it touches only where the oil covers you.
The ancient had Georg on the ground and was trying to extract the vampire’s heart. She could see that both vampires had slammed their fists into the chests of the hunters and it was a fight to see who could take the heart first. The sight sickened her. Although she couldn’t feel Tariq’s pain, she knew he felt it, because he was blocking her.
Charlotte’s heart stuttered as the first of the hounds came into view, pounding toward her on gigantic clawed feet. Teeth filled his open mouth and saliva hung in poisonous strings. Eyes glowed a terrible, hideous red, looking only at Tariq. Behind it, four more of the beasts broke cover and pounded toward them. One had three heads.
She stepped toward the leader and raised her bow. Her hand shook. The knowledge of how to use it was in her head, pushed there by the two ancient hunters. Taking a breath, she let the arrow fly. It missed the hound’s eye and lodged in the massive neck.
Instantly she let a second arrow go, not looking at the other hounds or how close they were to her. The hound was nearly on Tariq when it suddenly screamed, slid to a halt and staggered. Her arrow had hit true. The beast shook itself and slowly turned its head toward her. Time slowed down. She could hear her heart thundering in her ears, roaring so loud it drowned out every other noise. As the hound changed direction, leaping toward her, she let the third arrow fly.
The hound pulled back his lips to reveal massive, dripping, razor-sharp teeth. She could see its canines were like those of a saber-toothed tiger of old. The beast took a shuddering step toward her and then collapsed.
Charlotte knew time had slowed down for her, but while she’d been concentrating on the leader, the other four hellhounds had almost reached them. She began shooting arrows as fast as she was able. Another hound skidded to a halt, shuddered and went down. That was two out of five.
One got past her and leapt at Dragomir, trying for his back. While the hound was in the air, she flung the entire bucket of hyssop oil over the beast. At once his fur began to smoke and fall to the ground. Giant blisters appeared all over the hound’s back and sides. It dropped away from Dragomir and turned toward her. Charlotte shot it through one eye; the arrow quivered, not penetrating deep enough for the kill shot, but then she had to turn toward the one coming at her.
She managed to get off one shot before the hellhound leapt, taking her down to the ground. The hound’s breath was horrible. She dodged the stream of venomous saliva and plunged the arrow deep into the beast’s eye, using every bit of strength she could muster. Rolling, she got to her feet and ran toward the oil bucket, wanting to douse herself. Before she could get there, the last hound, this one three-headed, leapt at Tariq, red eyes glowing with evil intent. Clearly directed by Fridrick, it sprang on Tariq’s back, tearing at his flesh with the hideous teeth of one head while the other two heads reached around to sink teeth into his arms.She couldn’t see more than one of its eyes. She ran at it, shooting the arrow into the one eye she could get to, close range, scoring true, but the hideous creature didn’t even flinch. She had to get it off of Tariq.
Charlotte envisioned a sword—a long, lethal sword with the sharpest blade imaginable. The hilt fit into her hand as if made for her. She gripped it with two hands and ran to Tariq’s aid. He was utterly calm, intent and focused on extracting Fridrick’s heart. He didn’t try to escape the savage teeth of the hound, or let on that the poison dripping in long threads from the three mouths burned through his skin straight to his bones.
She sliced through the massive neck of the head that was attacking the arm Tariq was slowly pulling from Fridrick’s body. The head dropped to the ground, those vicious eyes suddenly focused on her. Taking a deep breath, she sheathed the sword and let loose two arrows, right into the eyes that stared at her from the ground.