choice to know him for what he is," Mirko said. "I still cannot believe they threatened my daughter." His fingers curled tightly into fists. "They threatened my family."
"Well, they're dead now," Natalya said cheerfully. She gestured toward the few people wandering through the downstairs room and lowered her voice, keeping a smile firmly in place. "Slavica, thanks for the warning earlier. If you hadn't mentioned nightly chocolate, I might have opened the door without being prepared."
"I was about to take the hairspray to your room and just as I opened the door to go into the hall, they shoved me back inside. Fortunately they didn't realize the package was for you and I could tell them I was about to go to the kitchen for your chocolate."
"You got my hairspray for me? Thank you! I hope you got as many cans as you could find."
"I bought out the store, just as you instructed."
"You can't wait to play with that stuff, can you?" Jubal laughed.
She grinned at him. "Well, okay, maybe that's true. I want to see if it really works. It isn't like I'm going to go looking for trouble."
"That's exactly what you're going to do," Jubal objected.
"What are you planning to use the hairspray for, Natalya?" Mirko asked.
"She's developing flamethrowers to use on vampires," Jubal said. "Can you believe that?"
Natalya abruptly moved passed Slavica and Angelina to touch Jubal's arm, the smile fading from her face. "I need to make certain there aren't any nasty surprises waiting for us. Why don't you take them to the kitchen and let Slavica tend to Mirko's face?"
"I don't want you to go into their quarters alone. Vikirnoff will kill me. Literally."
She snorted. "He won't do any such thing, Jubal. Take them to the kitchen now."
Jubal's brows rose in sudden comprehension. "Because you think someone's in there."
"Slavica, take Angelina to the kitchen," Mirko ordered, his voice hard. "We are going with Natalya."
Natalya snapped her teeth together, irritated at the men's manly egos. She couldn't very well tell them they were going to be in the way. She preferred to fight by herself. Besides, something was in that residence, not some-one. The birthmark of the dragon burned hot on her body and she knew nosferatu waited inside.
"Please explain to me what you think is in my home," Mirko said.
Natalya exchanged a glance with Jubal and shrugged. "I believe the undead, the vampire is waiting inside for you and your family to return."
He stared at her face for a long moment. "And you were planning to go in alone, unaided to fight this thing?"
"I've fought them before." She patted her weapons and the single can of hairspray she had left in her bag. "I'm prepared."
"And this is what you use the flamethrower for? To kill the vampire?"
Jubal groaned and shook his head. "Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds? Have you seen a vampire? You're not going to kill one with a can of hairspray."
"I plan on bringing them down and then incinerating their hearts with the can of hairspray," she explained.
Jubal shook his head. "No vampire would dare come to the inn with so many hunters here. That's crazy."
Natalya shrugged. She was not about to argue when she was totally sure of herself. Something was in that residence. And she was beginning to think vampire weren't only in the Ostojic home, but perhaps in other parts of the inn as well.
She touched Vikirnoff's mind. The battle for Gabrielle's life raged on, but it wasn't going well. Vikirnoff was literally forcing her heart to beat while Mikhail breathed for her. She could hear the ancient healing chant, the voices swelling as Carpathians joined from a distance. She could hear a woman, most likely Joie, Gabrielle's sister, weeping as she tried to join the others in the chant.
For a moment Natalya was there with Vikirnoff, seeing the overwhelming task, the terrible damage done to Gabrielle, her body torn and drained of blood. Vikirnoff never faltered, never gave up. She could feel his determination, the endless strength and power he poured into Gabrielle's failing body.
Vikirnoff was a man of steel and compassion. There was something in him that drew her in spite of her every determination to hold him at bay, to be angry with him for binding them together, for making her so aware of him as a man and herself as a woman.
The task she'd asked of him was enormous and required every ounce of his will to keep Gabrielle alive, but he