Dark Carousel - Christine Feehan Page 0,154

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

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