Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

branches flying through the air like missiles. The knife bit a third time. Lightning sizzled once, twice, three times, slammed into the earth as thunder cracked, shaking the land with the unholy sound. The knife found her a fourth time. The heavens opened up and rain poured down hard and fast, as if floodgates had burst.
    Jacob was covered in blood. He pushed away from her, turning his head as the sky grew darker. He could hear the others screaming in fear. "Damn you." He sliced down a fifth time in fury and defiance.
    An unseen hand caught his wrist before the blade could find her, fingers curling hard in an unbreakable grip. The knife turned inward toward Jacob's throat, and for one long, eternal moment, he stared in horror at the bloodied blade as it inched toward his flesh. It struck suddenly, burying itself to the hilt.
    Wolves boiled out of the forest, circled the meadow, glowing eyes fixed on the three people dodging branches that were hurtling through the air. Margaret screamed and ran. Harry took off blindly and Hans lost his footing and dropped to his knees as the earth heaved and shook again.
    "Raven." Mikhail materialized beside her, fear for her clawing at his guts. He ripped the jeans away so he could see the extent of her injuries.
    The earth rolled again, split the meadow open. Mikhail clamped his hands over the pumping holes in an attempt to stem the terrible flow of blood. Jacques shimmered into view, then Eric, Byron. Tienn arrived, and Vlad.

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    Gregori blasted out of the sky toward the three human assassins surrounded by the wolf pack. There on the meadow, with the world coming to an end, he took the shape of a huge, black wolf, a wolf with the hungry, mad eyes of retribution.
    "My God." Jacques was on his knees beside Mikhail, gathering handfuls of rich soil. "Go, Byron, for the herbs. Hurry!"
    Within minutes they had packed Raven's wounds with their poultices. Mikhail ignored them, cradling Raven in his arms, his large body bent protectively to shield her from the onslaught of the pounding rain.
    Mikhail's entire being was concentrated, focused on only one thing. You will not leave me, he commanded. I will not release you. Lightning sizzled, whipped across the sky, slammed into the earth.
    On its heels thunder boomed, shook the mountains.
    "Jacques! Eleanor is going to give birth." Vlad was desperate.
    "Get her into the house. Call Celeste and Dierdre." Jacques toed Jacob's body contemptuously as he added his large frame as a shelter over Raven.
    "She is not dead," Mikhail hissed, seeing the compassion in his brother's eyes.
    "She is dying, Mikhail." Jacques's chest hurt with the knowledge.
    Mikhail dragged her to him, bent his head until his cheek lay against hers. I know you can hear me; you must drink, Raven. Drink deeply.
    He felt the faint stirring in his mind. Warmth, regret. So much pain. Let me go.
    No! Never! Do not talk. Just drink. For me, if you love me, for me, for my life, drink what I offer.
    Before Jacques could guess his intent and try to stop him, Mikhail jabbed deeply into his own jugular.
    Dark blood spurted. Mikhail forced her to him, used every power he possessed to force compliance.
    Her will obeyed; her body was almost too weak to follow. She swallowed what poured into her but could not draw deeply on her own.
    Bolt after bolt of lightning slammed to earth. A tree exploded, rained fiery sparks. The earth heaved again, rolled, came apart at the seams. Gregori loomed over them, the darkest of the Carpathians, his pale eyes ice cold and holding the stark promise of death.
    "The wolves did their job," Eric reported grimly. "The lightning and earthquakes will do the rest."
    Jacques ignored him, gripping Mikhail's shoulder. "Enough, Mikhail. You grow too weak. She has lost too much blood. She has internal injuries."
    Black rage filled Mikhail. He threw back his head and roared his denial, the sound exploding through the forest and mountains like the booming of the thunder. Trees burst into flames around them, exploding like sticks of dynamite.
    "Mikhail." Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. "Stop her now."
    "She has my blood; it will heal her. If we can keep blood in her, get her into the soil and perform the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    healing ritual, then she will live."
    "Enough, damn it!" Jacques voice held very real fear.
    Gregori touched