Carpathian 17 - Dark Celebration

something wrong ?
    No, of course not , Nicolae said comfortingly.
    Mikhail immediately regained control, forcing a small smile. The last thing he wanted to do was make Destiny uncomfortable. Fighting vampires to her was as natural as breathing.
    She would have a difficult time understanding why he was considering throttling Gregori.
    I had every intention of telling you, but I came home to a battle. I didn't think in the midst of getting my hand cut off that it would be a good time to say, "Oh, and by the way, Savannah was out slaying vampires."
    I am considering chopping off your head. You will tell me every detail when we are alone. And don't whine about your hand, it is perfectly fine now.
    I take no responsibility for the way you raised your headstrong daughter. I do my best to minimize the damage you and Raven did with your liberal and far too lenient raising.
    Mikhail nearly choked. "That son-in-law is going to get taught a lesson he won't forget tonight. Liberal and lenient? I was firm with my daughter." Mikhail waved to Destiny and left with a satisfied smirk on his face.
    Destiny frowned, trying to follow the conversation. "Did you understand any of that?"

    "I think he was arguing with Gregori over whether or not Savannah was raised properly."
    Nicolae turned as MaryAnn Delaney and Skyler came into the room. Skyler was dressed in her furred parka, and MaryAnn reached for her own coat. MaryAnn was tall and slender with coffee-cream skin and spiraling curls all over her head. Even dressed in her jeans, she looked far too sophisticated for the woods. Small diamonds sparkled on her earlobes and a thin gold chain circled her neck.
    "We're really going to do this?" MaryAnn asked, following the others outside. "Go chop down a tree in the middle of the forest?"
    "Are you going to be a big baby? It's not that cold," Nicolae teased. "Didn't you ever have a Christmas tree back in Seattle?"
    "Of course I have, but I buy my trees in a civilized manner, you heathen," MaryAnn said.
    "At the corner right down from my house. And in fact, they deliver them for me each year because my car is too small to get them home."
    "Are they always like this?" Skyler asked Destiny.
    "They get worse," she answered, drawing the door closed behind them.
    "And you don't mind? I thought lifemates were jealous all the time."
    Destiny frowned as she made her way across the snow-covered ground. "Is Francesca jealous of Gabriel's friendships?"
    "He isn't really all that friendly. Just with Lucian and Jaxon, and he treats Jaxon like his sister. Well, he's good to the housekeeper, but not like Francesca, and he doesn't really like very many men around her." She shrugged. "Earlier, I was with Dimitri and he was being nice to me, but then Josef came along and he changed completely. I was afraid for Josef."
    "Jealousy isn't a good trait," MaryAnn said, pulling her hood over her curls. "It shows insecurity."
    "Ah but sometimes, when other men look at my woman the wrong way," Nicolae said, leering at Destiny, "they deserve to be scared off."
    MaryAnn threw a snowball at him. "You would say that because you haven't joined the modern world."
    "And I don't want to either. I like being king of my castle."
    Destiny snorted and added her snowball to MaryAnn's. "You wish."

    Manolito moved in absolute silence through the trees. The heartbeats were louder now, thunder in his ears. He could hear blood running, coursing through arteries straight to hearts. His mouth watered and his teeth lengthened. His pulse throbbed as it tuned itself to his prey. Lightning seemed to sizzle in his veins. He tried to reach for Rafael and Riordan, a last effort to remember honor and sanity, but he could not make the effort.
    The heartbeats pounded and a single sound broke the rhythm. Laughter. It tinkled in the air, a melodious note that sank into his pores—called to the most basic part of him. Deep within, his demon roared, fighting for release, raking and clawing, demanding he give in.
    That sound came again, carried on the slight wind, drifting past the snowflakes to reach out to him, to beckon—no—summon him. He turned toward that note and moved with more stealth. He caught the scent now. Three women and a man—not just any man—a hunter. A warrior. He should walk away, get out while he could, but his demon thundered orders, shaking him, demanding he find prey.
    A slow hiss escaped. His body was graceful, the body of an ancient hunter who had long battled the vampire