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unsurpassed. Being a lifemate was new to him, but this—this he knew how to do. He took to the air, streaking across the sky, a dark cloud among the dark clouds, the form of a thousand bats, all with fangs and claws, all ravenously hungry—as he was. He let his hunger amplify, heard the howling wind high above the canopy, protesting the unnatural things traveling across the sky. Any in their path would be destroyed. The animals went silent, the night predators slinking under cover. Lightning forked in the night sky, splitting it with whips of white-hot electricity. Thunder boomed, shaking the ground.
Come to me, Dominic. There was a command in the male voice.
A deep, strong voice of authority—a man used to instant obedience. Dominic recognized the voice. It had been so long ago. They had been friends of sorts, warriors together in the old days. He had much respect for the man and his amazing fighting skills.
Zacarias. Leave this place.
I will aid you. Word was sent of what you have done. You will need every aid possible for such a task. I am to the south, an old man walking alone by the river.
Dominic felt the old camaraderie welling out of nowhere. He would die on this rising or the next and yet his lifemate had given him this powerful gift of emotion. He could feel, not just remember, how much he had enjoyed Zacarias with his quick intelligence and fierce fighting skills. He didn’t question that any vampire might mimic the oldest De La Cruz brother’s voice, the resonance was too perfect—no one could adequately portray the power of the man with just his voice alone.
It would be good to see you, old friend, but dangerous. If the five could get their hands on you, they would probably be happier than if they managed to capture the prince. Dominic sent the warning, certain Zacarias was well aware the ones leading the vampire rising were the Malinov brothers. Once, the De La Cruz brothers and the Malinovs had been as close as family; now the Malinovs hated the De La Cruz brothers with every bit of malice and treachery their black souls could conjure up.
Do you know if the remaining brothers are here? Dominic turned south. He did so more to protect Zacarias than for any other reason. If one of the undead spotted him, a fight would ensue. He had no doubt of Zacarias’s capabilities in a fight, but the undead seemed to be in significant numbers, and even a warrior of Zacarias’s skill could be defeated.
I have hunted them. There seem to be several lesser of the undead, newly recruited, and a few more with greater experience. I have spotted two masters , but neither are the Malinovs. They have targeted my brothers, Dominic. I have no choice but to hunt them.
That was Zacarias. His brothers would always come first. He cared little for his own life, but he would survive to remove any threat to his younger brothers. Which was laughable. The other four De La Cruz brothers were more than capable warriors, each highly skilled, trained by Zacarias, with the experience of thousands of battles.
The bats wheeled in the sky, a black flutter of wings as he circled closer to get a better look at the ground.
Far below, walking through the trees, was an old man, bent over, using a tall walking stick, looking very vulnerable, an enticement for any self-respecting vampire. Dominic smiled to himself. Zacarias wasn’t prone to a lot of talking. He drew his enemy to him and disposed of him without fanfare or bravado.
He came to earth at a safe distance, just because prudence dictated caution in the midst of enemy territory.
The old man remained a few yards from him. They studied one another. Zacarias kept the aged appearance, but there was no mistaking those piercing steel eyes. The shaggy hair was streaked with gray, but Dominic knew it was as black as a raven’s wing without the disguise.
“ Arwa-arvod mäne me ködak— may your honor hold back the dark,” Dominic greeted, striding forward. He clasped
Come to me, Dominic. There was a command in the male voice.
A deep, strong voice of authority—a man used to instant obedience. Dominic recognized the voice. It had been so long ago. They had been friends of sorts, warriors together in the old days. He had much respect for the man and his amazing fighting skills.
Zacarias. Leave this place.
I will aid you. Word was sent of what you have done. You will need every aid possible for such a task. I am to the south, an old man walking alone by the river.
Dominic felt the old camaraderie welling out of nowhere. He would die on this rising or the next and yet his lifemate had given him this powerful gift of emotion. He could feel, not just remember, how much he had enjoyed Zacarias with his quick intelligence and fierce fighting skills. He didn’t question that any vampire might mimic the oldest De La Cruz brother’s voice, the resonance was too perfect—no one could adequately portray the power of the man with just his voice alone.
It would be good to see you, old friend, but dangerous. If the five could get their hands on you, they would probably be happier than if they managed to capture the prince. Dominic sent the warning, certain Zacarias was well aware the ones leading the vampire rising were the Malinov brothers. Once, the De La Cruz brothers and the Malinovs had been as close as family; now the Malinovs hated the De La Cruz brothers with every bit of malice and treachery their black souls could conjure up.
Do you know if the remaining brothers are here? Dominic turned south. He did so more to protect Zacarias than for any other reason. If one of the undead spotted him, a fight would ensue. He had no doubt of Zacarias’s capabilities in a fight, but the undead seemed to be in significant numbers, and even a warrior of Zacarias’s skill could be defeated.
I have hunted them. There seem to be several lesser of the undead, newly recruited, and a few more with greater experience. I have spotted two masters , but neither are the Malinovs. They have targeted my brothers, Dominic. I have no choice but to hunt them.
That was Zacarias. His brothers would always come first. He cared little for his own life, but he would survive to remove any threat to his younger brothers. Which was laughable. The other four De La Cruz brothers were more than capable warriors, each highly skilled, trained by Zacarias, with the experience of thousands of battles.
The bats wheeled in the sky, a black flutter of wings as he circled closer to get a better look at the ground.
Far below, walking through the trees, was an old man, bent over, using a tall walking stick, looking very vulnerable, an enticement for any self-respecting vampire. Dominic smiled to himself. Zacarias wasn’t prone to a lot of talking. He drew his enemy to him and disposed of him without fanfare or bravado.
He came to earth at a safe distance, just because prudence dictated caution in the midst of enemy territory.
The old man remained a few yards from him. They studied one another. Zacarias kept the aged appearance, but there was no mistaking those piercing steel eyes. The shaggy hair was streaked with gray, but Dominic knew it was as black as a raven’s wing without the disguise.
“ Arwa-arvod mäne me ködak— may your honor hold back the dark,” Dominic greeted, striding forward. He clasped
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