Carpathian 06 - Dark Fire

only if it is absolutely necessary to protect yourself. Let me handle these idiots," he cautioned warily. Tempest with a gun in her hand was a scary proposition.
    "Where are the others?"
    "They have gone ahead to our next stop, taking Cullen Tucker with them. He had nothing to do with this Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    that I can detect," Darius said calmly.
    He sent himself seeking out into the night while she hastily prepared the bus for a quick getaway. He found one man approaching from the north, a long rifle in his capable hands. A sniper in camouflage.
    Darius directed the male leopard to hunt. The female cat was sent after the man closest to the sniper, a few feet to his left. They were in thick brush, easy targets for the cats, and Darius knew their deaths would be swift and silent. He was torn between staying in his present form and protecting Tempest and going out into the forest, where he could do more good.
    "Go," she said softly, feeding shells into the guns she had laid out. "I know you won't be far if I need you."
    Darius leaned down to kiss her soft mouth. There were shadows in her eyes, and she was trembling slightly, but she looked him in the eye, and he could feel the resolve in her mind. "Do not allow anything to happen to you, Tempest. For the sake of all mortals, see to your safety first." He glanced at the arsenal she was preparing. "And do not shoot me when I return."
    "I'll resist the temptation." Her hand stroked his neck. "See to it you come back to me." The ache in her heart was real and strong. Fear. She tasted it in her mouth.
    He disappeared. One moment he was real and solid, standing in front of her, the next he was gone.
    Tempest had no idea if he had dissolved into vapor or moved so quickly that she hadn't seen him.
    Outside in the darkness, the wind began to build, emitting a low, eerie moan. It spoke of death. Tempest shivered, wondering how she knew but knowing it anyway. The wind was death. Darius was the wind.
    She saw herself in the mirror. Pale, her hair wild, her eyes wide with fear. She looked absurd, a small woman in blue jeans and T-shirt loading a big gun, but there was grim determination to the set of her mouth. Her feet were bare, and she remedied that quickly, certain she would have to leave the illusion of safety the trailer provided. She sat on the step, a gun in her lap, two others behind her within easy reach, and she waited.
    Darius streaked through the sky, noting the position of each attacker. There were seventeen men, all armed. The campsite was surrounded, heavy trucks positioned across each trail leading to the main highway to prevent the bus from leaving. Forest was dragging the body of the eighteenth man through heavy brush. The male leopard was moving silently, his powerful body sleek and deadly, undetected by the hunters creeping forward within a few feet of him.
    Darius dropped behind a large man armed with everything from hand grenades to a machete. He simply snapped the man's neck as if it were a matchstick. There was no time for a sound to escape, only the rush of wind that carried Darius to the next assailant in line. This one was crouched low, peeking into the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of the silver bus. The wind caught him in a death grip, like a huge hand at his throat, and slowly strangled the life out of him while his body dangled helplessly a foot from the ground, then fell unceremoniously to the forest floor.
    "Murphy?" A voice hissed off to Darius's right. "I can't see anything. Where's Craig? He was supposed to stay close."
    Darius loomed up, larger than life, his features harsh and relentless, his black eyes burning coals of fury.
    Long white canines revealed themselves as he smiled. "Both of them lost." His words were soft and mesmerizing. The man froze in horror, unable to do so much as lift his gun as the apparition moved toward him with blinding speed. The hunter felt the impact in the vicinity of his chest and stared down in Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    horror at the gaping hole there. He wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. He died standing up, facing Darius, his face a twisted mask of shock.
    As merciless as the wind itself, Darius moved on to the next attacker. This one was young, with pitted cheeks, scrubby mustache, and paint smeared on his face. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline pumping through his body. His finger