it. His fingers drew the rifle into his hand and his fist closed around it. He took a deep breath and surged to his feet, the butt of the weapon fitting snugly into his shoulder, his sights on the cat. Very slowly his finger found the trigger and he began to squeeze.
Behind them, bloody, his shirt and chest shredded, Dominic roared a challenge to Zacarias even as he ripped the rifle from Cesaro with one hand and slapped him away with the other. The strike was casual, but so hard the force sent Cesaro flying through the air to land hard against the house.
"See to the woman," Dominic ordered, his voice a low command that brooked no argument. He pointed and the man slowly got to his feet, looking dazed, his eyes showing his confusion.
Cesaro was protected from compulsion, so it was only the sheer force of Dominic's personality that overrode the loyalty ingrained in the foreman to protect Zacarias.
"She's in the bedroom and needs immediate medical attention." That spurred the man into action. He hurried into the house, leaving the two Carpathians facing one another. Dominic held his hands out to his sides. "Zacarias." Just the name. A calling. Zacarias shook his head. The whispers refused to stop, pounding like a drumbeat deep in his veins, in his mind, until he was consumed with the dark desire for blood. "Go. Go while you can, old friend. Save yourself."
" Ekam. My brother. Anaakfel. Old friend." There was anguish in Dominic's voice--in his heart and mind. "This is not your choice. Your choice is to serve your people. I need you. The prince needs you. We have to get this information to him." Even as he spoke, Dominic glided into position, his heart so heavy he could barely keep the burning tears from moving past his throat. There was a ball of them lodged there. Zacarias. A man noble beyond anyone's imagining. To kill him felt like a sacrilege.
I'm going to shift, Dominic. I need clothes.
Solange's voice startled him. She was so calm. Her utter composure surprised him. He felt her in his mind, knew she felt his love for Zacarias. They were ancients. They had been childhood friends. They'd spent centuries fighting the same enemy, sometimes side by side, other times alone, but they'd always been in the world sharing the same fate. His heart would shatter when he killed Zacarias--but he would kill him. He would spare Zacarias the humiliation of losing his honor. The Carpathian people would remember him as the hero he truly was.
Leave us, Solange.
Dominic flexed his fingers. He'd taken a beating killing Etienne. The ancient had been a skilled fighter and he'd sustained several injuries. Zacarias was one of the best, most experienced warriors he'd ever encountered. Dominic's love for him, his respect, would be difficult to overcome. He didn't want Solange anywhere near this battle. He had no doubt that he would kill his friend, but there was every possibility that Zacarias would kill him, too.
There's a chance to save him.
His first reaction was to order her away, but the absolute belief in her voice swayed him. More than anything, he wanted her protected. Yet Zacarias was as close as he was ever going to get to a real friend, and Dominic didn't want to have to kill him.
She didn't wait for him to make up his mind, but shifted just to the left of him. He clothed her in her normal clothes, the faded jeans and thin tee that worked best when she was moving through the forest. She had emerged closer to Zacarias than he liked, and he knew it was deliberate.
"I am family to you, Zacarias," she said, addressing the Carpathian hunter.
Centuries old, Zacarias was more than intimidating under normal circumstances. But he was so close to turning, he was growling, his eyes already changing, revealing the red haze of the vampire already trying to possess his mind.
Dominic moved into position to strike. He would need every ounce of speed and strength he possessed to drive through the wall of Zacarias's chest and extract the heart before Zacarias could retaliate. The attack would have to come as a complete shock if he had any chance at all to end it fast. The idea sickened him, but he meticulously went over each move in his head. Solange had merged her mind with his. He knew she saw the attack in his mind, but she continued to try, taking another step toward the