Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

the trees.
    "You have been wounded. Let me give you aid." The shadow raised his head, taking on a more substantial form as he sniffed the air. "The scent of blood is so intoxicating."
    Even the sharp eyes of the owl didn't spot the woman until she moved. She seemed to emerge from the very trees, her body difficult to make out with the bands of light spilling from the moon. Clouds spun overhead shifting the light continually, casting stripes across her. Vikirnoff held his breath as she went from complete stillness to a fluid motion, taking several steps away from the trees toward her shadowy opponent. This then was his lifemate.
    Natalya Shonski, the woman he had crossed an ocean to find.
    She seemed to glow, golden streaks of colors flashing off her hair, black, orange, even platinum. Her eyes, her all important eyes, were no longer blue, but opalescent, a swirling mixture of vibrant colors as turbulent and wild as the raw power emanating from her.
    Energy crackled around her and the vaporous fog rising from the forest floor churned with renewed vigor, as if by her presence, new life was feeding the grayish mist.
    She was dazzling. Vikirnoff stared at her, unable to look away even though the vivid colors hurt his eyes. He had never seen such raw power springing to life. She looked fragile in stillness, yet when she moved, muscles slid suggestively beneath her golden skin. It was how she moved, so fluid, like water over rock, her small form erect, unbending in the face of her enemy. She was exotic and beautiful to him and wholly regal. In spite of the red stain spreading across her side, her gaze remained fixed on the vampire, an unwavering, focused stare, uncannily like that of a wild predator.
    Behold. There she stands. Lifemate to Vikirnoff . The awe and splendor of her astonished him. His lungs burned and his throat felt raw. His body flooded with heat and every muscle seized with desire. He couldn't separate lust from rage, or joy from the need to kill those threatening her. He felt almost dizzy with the combination and intensity of his unfamiliar feelings.
    Vikirnoff knew he could no longer afford the chaotic emotions. It was that simple. He was a hunter and he had a battle in front of him. He was useless in the state he was in. More than useless—he was dangerous not only to himself but to his lifemate. He called on his years of service, years of experience in battle, and centered himself, reached deep to find the eye in the center of the storm, to find the man he had always been—a man short on speech, but long on action when there was need. A man ruled by logic and duty and honor.
    He waited until the emotional storm subsided and he was once more balanced and in control before he allowed his gaze to dwell on his lifemate.
    Natalya's starkly focused stare shifted, a quick, restless movement sliding around her surroundings in a sweep. She inhaled and her gaze touched briefly on Vikirnoff's owl form before sliding past to observe the gathering shapes slinking through the trees in a loose ring around her.
    Arturo inclined his head towards her. "You are bleeding. I do not wish you harm, rather I need you to perform a small task for me and then I will allow you to go free." He swept his arms out from his side in a gesture encompassing the entire forest. "You cannot hope to get away. You are surrounded by those I command and they will cause great damage to you should you try to leave. Come. Be reasonable and come to me." He opened his arms wide to draw her in. His voice was mesmerizing, beautiful, almost singsong. He looked a young, handsome man, nearly as beguiling as Natalya.
    Vikirnoff recognized the strong hidden compulsion in the vampire's voice. He studied the face. It was an illusion, of course, as most masks a vampire chose to wear were, but it was a face Vikirnoff recognized. Arturo had once been a hunter of the very thing he had become.
    Vikirnoff could only hope Arturo had recently turned and did not have centuries of wielding evil behind him.
    "How many times must we do this, Arturo?" There was a deliberate contemptuous challenge in Natalya's voice. "I've staked you a couple of times already. Do you really want to dance with me again?"
    The vampire growled, his smooth smile disappearing. "You are incapable of staking one of my strength. You are the one bleeding."
    "Tell yourself that," she said. "But I think that's blood running down your arm." She remained utterly motionless and once again the light