Carpathian 20 - Dark Slayer

Razvan and Ivory.
    With his last remaining strength, Razvan threw a barrier around Ivory’s back and the top of her head to prevent penetration of the sharp spears. Half a dozen drove through his body, staking him to the floor.
    Sergey swept Ivory’s legs out from under her. She went down hard, slipping in the pools of blood covering the floor.
    Sergey staggered back, his face a twisted mask of hatred.
    Before he could slam his fist deep into her chest, she surged to her feet, leaping in the very motion Sergey had taught her as a young child.
    Ivory smiled at him, deliberately locking her gaze with his as he had when he’d licked at Razvan’s blood. She knew there was a gaping hole in her chest where he’d tried to reach her heart. Blood dripped steadily, yet she taunted him with a smile.
    She took a step and went down on one knee, still holding his gaze, watching his eyes narrow, watching the cruel thoughts move through his mind. Keeping their gazes locked, she drove her hand and wrist deep into the welcoming soil. She knew the soil intimately, knew the healing properties. She had lain companion to the minerals and elements for a hundred years.
    She whispered to the earth in the ancient language, the language she knew better than any other, a language close to the earth.
    Emä Maye, én, laÅ„ad, omasak Teteh. Jälleen jamaak—Mother Earth, your daughter stands before you wounded once again .

    Maye mayed—Earth to earth .
    SÃv sÃved—Heart to heart .
    Me juttaak elidaban és kalmaban—We are bound together in life and death .
    Pusmasz ainam, juttad lihad—Heal this body, bring together this flesh .
    Te magköszunam, sÃvam sÃvadet—I give thanks from my heart to yours .
    She continued, her voice rising and falling with the ebb and flow of the earth’s blood.
    Twist
    this
    root,
    break
    and
    bend ,
    Fit
    the
    wood
    to
    my
    hand .
    Hone
    the
    edges,
    make
    them
    sharp ,
    To pierce deep within that which is aged and dark .
    I
    name
    you
    need,
    fit
    to
    my
    will ,
    Your making is to stop the evil that would kill .
    Sergey came at her as she had known he would, believing her distracted by her wounds, muttering to herself beneath her breath. As he bent toward her, she jerked her hand from beneath the soil, newly healed, all traces of the deep lacerations gone. In her fist was a root, twisted and sharpened to the finest blade, honed down to the finest ice pick, and in one smooth, easy move, she thrust it up and straight into his left eye.

    He slammed his fist into her throat, knocking her back and down as he whirled away from her. As he came down he viciously kicked at Razvan’s head. Razvan was already wielding the heavy sword, swinging it in a brutal cut at the vampire’s calf. Sergey barely moved his leg in time to avoid most of the blade. The edge caught him enough to cut into his tendon. The vampire leapt into the air to escape another blow.
    Coming down in a fighting crouch, her weapon already blazing, Ivory added another letter in the word traitor to his forehead.
    The laser cut the R so deep it dug into the skull itself.
    â€œBefore we are finished here, you will bear the mark of the traitor for our brothers to know that they taught me well. They will be amused that you could not dispatch a woman, your sister-child, so easily,― she taunted.
    Vampires were vain creatures, especially master vampires. Her brothers had always had large egos, believing they would do a better job ruling the Carpathian people than the prince and a better job of protecting the prince than the Daratrazanoff lineage. He knew when word of his defeat, of the damage done to his body, reached his siblings, he would be the laughingstock of the entire vampire world.
    As if knowing it was all true, Razvan laughed, the sound low and taunting, echoing through the surrounding fields and sky.

    Sergey shrieked, furious, blood and spittle erupting from his mouth. “You are already dead, weak one. You think I do not know how you crawled on the ground like a dog, following after Xavier for his scraps? You are less than a worm and deserve to die writhing in agony. You pathetic weakling. She will die a hideous death before she joins you in the afterlife.―
    Ivory put every ounce of contempt she had into her voice. “I will go to my lifemate and live in bliss while you walk through the fires of hell, snarling and spitting and crying