to the powers who had aided her centuries earlier in her need, rocking back and forth, heedless of her own wounds, caring only that Razvan, her lifemate, was spared.
Mikhail Dubrinsky, prince of the Carpathian people, heard the call of wolves long before they reached his house deep in the forest. Gregori. He summoned his second-in-command and best friend. I have urgent need of you. Hunters, heed my call. I have urgent need of you. He sent the command out on the common Carpathian telepathic pathway, summoning all who were close.
Safeguarding his home, Mikhail took to the air to intercept the wolf pack. They were still miles away, but the distress in their calls was profound. He sped through the thick canopy of trees, sending his senses out before him, trying to discern the danger following the wolf pack.
There was blood on the wind, and a foul stench that could only be attributed to the undead. Rotting flesh and poison. Humans.
Wait for me, Gregori demanded. I am but a few minutes behind you. It could be a trap.
I feel children. Blood. Terror. The wolves are calling. Which meant he wasn't waiting.
As Mikhail flew, another owl came up on his right, a second on his left. He identified both. Natalya, sister to Razvan, and her lifemate, Vikirnoff. Neither asked questions as they raced across the night sky with him toward the calling wolf pack. Overhead the storm clouds thickened, rolling and churning-boiling with anger. Flecks of white-hot energy lit up the edges of the cloud formations. Ice rained down, sharp spears meant to slow the fleeing pack.
Vampire, Mikhail identified. He pursues the wolf pack and whatever they guard. He was already moving with blurring speed, and he pushed himself, forging ahead of the other two ancient warriors.
Mikhail. Gregori hissed a warning. We do not know what we face.
I believe it is clear enough. Mikhail ignored the rumblings of his bodyguard and slipped lower in the trees as the ice began to penetrate even the thick canopy.
A wolf howled, a child cried out. A woman screamed. Mikhail could hear them clearly now.
"Go, take the children. Leave us. You will travel faster," a man's voice rang out. "We'll try to slow him down."
The pack gave voice again, whether in protest or agreement, Mikhail couldn't guess. The wind rose to a howling shriek, blasting through the trees with hurricane force, uprooting several trees. As the large trunks struck other trees, they fell in a domino effect, pointing like an arrow in the direction the wolf pack had gone.
The force of the biting cold wind flung the three Carpathians back through the sky and into the path of the falling ice. Mikhail felt a sharp point pierce his arm and he dissolved instantly, although the wind pushed him farther from the pack. The storm increased in strength, dumping huge amounts of snow from the sky until the ice was so thick and dangerous they could not continue forward in the air.
Drop down, we will have to run to meet them from the ground.
Gregori growled at him, this time much closer. Vikirnoff said nothing at all as his prince hit the ground running, but he moved into a better position to protect the man. Natalya paced just behind him, watching their back-trail.
This wolf pack is unusual, Vikirnoff ventured. They are using the ancient path of telepathic communication to call for aid. And they call us, not other wolves.
These have to be the wolves that travel with Ivory Malinov, Mikhail explained.
He had, of course, given the news to Natalya that her twin brother was alive and had escaped at long last from Xavier. He, along with Gregori, had informed her of everything that had happened, and of Gregori's firm belief that Razvan's crimes had been committed when Xavier either possessed his body or his mind. The news of both Ivory and Razvan's appearance, and that they were lifemates, had spread through the entire Carpathian community.
He knew they were all suspicious of Razvan, particularly Vikirnoff, who had shielded Natalya so many times from her brother in the past. She had suffered emotionally, finally accepting the loss of her brother, and now both were distressed. He could only give his opinion that Razvan had been wronged these years, and was not the criminal and traitor the Carpathian world believed him to be-but he knew they would all have to make up their own minds about the man.
I do not sense a Carpathian traveling with them, man or woman. Vikirnoff kept