Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

creating a moving suit of armor.

    “I should have known you would use your family’s expertise,” Dominic said, studying the spinning knives.

    He’d never come across anything like it before in all his fights with undead. There seemed to be no noticeable pattern that he could detect, the spinning blades moving around Demyan at varying rates of speed, so that it would be impossible to slam his fist through the armor without getting his arm cut off.

    “You should have known better than to challenge me,” Demyan corrected.

    Dominic filed the hint of the vampire’s ego away for future use. The blades whirled and swayed, flashing silver in the dark night. Dominic caught the gleam of a long blade, just a quick flash, his only warning. He just managed to form his own sword to meet the swing of Demyan’s blade. Sparks rained around them as metal came together with such force the forest shook. The sound reverberated through the trees. Birds shrieked. A mass exodus followed as the clashing swords slammed into one another over and over.

    Demyan’s sword came down in a straight slice right over Dominic’s head. He barely managed to get his blade up to parry the strike away from him, arms up, head level to prevent the sword from falling on the top of his head. The moment his arms went up, the smaller whirling blades burst toward him, as if fired from a gun, a hundred knives thrown simultaneously. Dominic swept his sword across his body, knocking most of them away, but one lodged in his thigh and another in his chest.

    The blades were fashioned with Carpathian skill, forged by a master, and they sliced clean through flesh and muscle, burying deep. Dominic had no choice but to dissolve into vapor in order to rid himself of the metal. The blades dropped to earth, but Demyan was too experienced to allow that brief respite to stop him.
    He followed the droplets of blood, the scent in his nostrils, and like a bloodhound, he drove through the cloud of vapor, slashing with his sword.

    Dominic materialized, countering, pushing pain to the back of his mind while he met each of Demyan’s moves, his brain working to find the pattern of the swirling knives as well. He needed to anticipate each of Demyan’s moves and get ahead of him.

    As Dominic sprang to attack Demyan, Solange turned and shot Robert the worm in one smooth motion.
    The arrow flew true, slamming through the chest to pierce the heart, exploding into the same white-hot heat that incinerated everything on contact. Exhaustion was something even her willpower couldn’t overcome.
    Her legs went out from under her and she found herself sitting on the undulating ground. Around her the ground groaned. Wide cracks began to weave across the forest floor, hairline fractures that slowly widened until debris began to fall into them.

    “Get off the ground,” Zacarias yelled as he rushed toward Drago. “Get to safety.”

    She sent a smoldering glare. Did she look stupid? She had already scrambled to her feet and leapt for the lower branches of a young tree. As a shelter, it didn’t offer much, bending under her weight, but it got her away from the splintering ground.

    She heard the clash of metal against metal and turned her head to see sparks raining down. Her heart jumped to her throat. She nearly stood up on the flimsy tree branch, fear for her Carpathian crashing through her unexpectedly. She’d had no idea how much she had invested in a man she’d made up. She watched him flowing like water over the uneven ground, avoiding tree roots as he danced around the master vampire. The spinning blades were mesmerizing, and she was forced to turn her attention back to Zacarias. There was no way that she could see to help her Carpathian, but if Zacarias could defeat Drago, he would be able to help defeat the powerful vampire.

    Zacarias and Drago came together, two fierce fighters, going up off the ground, hovering in midair for just a moment. Zacarias slammed his fist into the chest wall and instantly thousands of bats dropped from the sky to cover his body, teeth sawing flesh, driving him away from the lesser vampire. He stumbled under the weight, falling to earth where the bats carried him to the ground.

    Solange let go a third arrow as Drago rushed into the feeding frenzy of the bats, obviously intending to kill Zacarias while the night creatures had him trapped. The arrow sank into Drago’s shoulder, bursting into flame as it hit the flesh. The vampire’s