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they did you, and I will feed them to your own wolf pack. I might let you live, sister dear, just to see you weep for the loss of your lifemate. You must learn who is strong and who is weak. You are on the wrong side. Join me. Let us cut him up together and I might spare you."

Ivory's heart pounded. Her body jerked in response to the sight of her lifemate's body in pieces. There was a hole in his chest and his arm was in two pieces, slices through his shoulder and chest and one leg, his blood a terrible fountain, pouring over the floor.

Ivory knew that the vampire was the vilest of all creatures. The one before her no longer even resembled her brother, although he tried to keep up the illusion with the hope that it would cause her pain and make her hesitate, throwing off her aim. He had deliberately chosen to tear at a child's flesh and to hack Razvan into pieces, bringing forth some of their worst nightmarish memories to make the battle all the more difficult. She gripped her sword harder and stepped between her lifemate and the undead who had once been a beloved brother.

"Kill me, then. But I am taking you with me."

CHAPTER 9

The vampire jerked the remaining arrows from his body and tossed them contemptuously onto the floor. "So be it," Sergey said and thrust his sword straight toward her stomach.

Ivory parried, jumping to the side. Too late she realized the vampire had deliberately driven her away from Razvan. She lunged back, but Sergey struck again, slicing through Razvan's leg a second time, the cut deep enough to go through bone. Her blade raced toward the vampire's skull, but he dissolved and materialized across the room.

Stop thinking about me and fight him the way you always fight.

In the moment that Razvan spoke, every agonizing stroke of the blade flooded back to her, as the vampires chopped her into pieces much the same way Sergey was doing to Razvan. Methodically. Relentlessly. Mercilessly.

Do not try to save me. Think only of killing him.

I cannot defeat him. He was a great warrior. He taught me to fight. He is a master vampire. Even our strongest hunters rarely can defeat them alone.

Who better than you to fight him? You know his every move before he makes it. You have changed over the centuries. He will be expecting that young woman he taught, not the seasoned warrior you have become. He is preying on your emotions. Do not be tricked by one such as he. You are a great warrior, and you, better than any other, can defeat him.

Around them the house began to shake, the walls undulating and breaking apart so that debris rained down on the vampire. Ivory knew Razvan couldn't move with his agonizing, mortal wounds, but was buying her time to regroup, using what remaining energy he had, not to attempt to burrow into the ground, but rather to use his powers to aid her.

Ivory took a deep breath and let it out. Razvan may have been inexperienced, but he had the heart and soul of a warrior-like she did. Never had she seen another warrior so courageous, so stoic. She took another deep breath and let it out, allowing a mantle of calm to settle over her. Razvan was right. She could not allow her feelings to interfere with her primary job. She was a warrior first, a woman second.

She forced herself to look only at the vampire-to see only the vampire. As long as she could keep Sergey focused on her and away from Razvan, she might be able to keep her lifemate alive and slay the vampire. What weapons could be used against this master? Vanity was the one trait that not only all the undead shared, but her brothers in particular.

She changed her appearance subtly, very slowly, softening her features to take on a younger, more girlish look-as in the old days, long before the centuries had passed, when her brothers had loved and cherished her more than their own egos.

Sergey lifted his sword and touched it to his forehead in a mock salute, allowing her to see Razvan's blood running down the blade to the hilt. The ruby drops coated his hand and, with his gaze locked with hers, he licked at the blood.

Her stomach knotted, but she tilted her head to one side and laughed, a taunting, tinkling sound, like that of