Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

scent permeating every razor-sharp rock and molten
     pool. He had done so too late for this one escape hatch. He hadn’t considered that
     Arabejila and Dax had exchanged blood so often throughout their hunt for Mitro over
     the centuries, and when he’d first started the thinning process, Dax could use that
     blood bond to hunt him. Dax had marked the spot in his memory.
    Arabejila’s blood continually called to Mitro’s, and as the earth claimed Dax more
     and more as her child, his blood had begun to do the same. He had only to listen.
     Now, with the soul of the dragon dwelling in him as well, he had an added advantage
     he hadn’t before—his senses of sight and smell were far above what they had been.
     The heat of the volcano fed him rather than drained him. The Old One and Dax had become
     better at sharing the same body and all senses. Right now, he knew exactly where Mitro was. He could feel the vampire struggling against the bonds the woman
     placed on him.
    Mitro had positioned himself right at that narrowed barrier, right where Dax was certain
     he would. Dax sent a small thanks to the woman and to Arabejila. At long last he would
     destroy the vampire and his duty to his people would be done. He would be free to
     go to the next life. He moved quickly, rising steadily, winding his way through the
     maze of miles of chambers. Magma pools bubbled ominously. Steam and heat swirled together
     to create a dense fog. He used the dragon’s eyes to see his way through the storm,
     racing the volcano to reach Mitro while he was still trapped.
    The volcano took a deep breath, the whirlwind stilling, a terrible calm heralding
     a violent storm. Dax felt the exact moment when the woman turned her attention from
     holding Mitro to suppressing the catastrophic explosion. He couldn’t blame her, she
     had people to save—just as he did. He pushed his speed, rushing through the last two
     chambers leading to that point of weakness where he knew Mitro would be.
    He heard Mitro’s gleeful snicker as the bonds broke loose and he streaked for the
     thin spot in the barrier. Dax hit him from the side, slamming into the body of the
     undead, driving him down and away from his goal.
    Mitro shrieked in frustration and anger, trying to twist away, to get distance between
     them. Dax was too strong, too fast and he stayed close, chest to chest, driving his
     fist deep, penetrating through muscle, bone and tissue to drive for the heart.
    Dax stared into Mitro’s all-black eyes, the eyes of insanity, a monster without a
     soul. He’d been born defective and he’d purposefully destroyed every good thing in
     his life. Dax felt the edge of that withered, blackened heart. Diamond-hard nails
     ripped deep, tearing through the vampire’s chest in an effort to surround the one
     organ that would ensure Mitro’s demise.
    Mitro screamed and thrashed, his talons raking at Dax’s face, gouging long furrows
     from eye to jaw. He slammed his own fist deep into Dax’s chest, trying to reach the
     hunter’s heart before the Carpathian could extract his.
    Hot melting rock erupted through the chamber, rocketing high, smashing into the barrier
     erected by Arabejila. The heat was so intense the barrier clearly was melting and
     along with it, their skin. Mitro’s face drooped as if it had grown too thin, sliding
     from his skull and bones. Dax knew his own skin, acclimatized to the volcano, could
     not long withstand the enormous heat from the very core of the earth. It didn’t matter.
    Nothing mattered but destroying Mitro. The vampire could tear out Dax’s heart and
     throw it into the bubbling orange and red pool of hot rock steadily climbing toward
     them, and it would be well worth it as long as Mitro was gone from the world. Dax’s
     fingers dug deeper, reaching for the vampire’s heart, as Mitro tore a wider hole in
     Dax’s chest. For a moment it felt as if the vampire was ripping through his body with
     a dull knife, but Dax cut off all pain and focused on the job at hand.
    Dax closed his fingers around the blackened heart and began to extract it. The vampire
     shrieked, maddened, enraged, ripping at Dax’s face and eyes with one hand while he
     continued to tunnel his hand into Dax’s chest in an effort to kill him before it was
     too late.
    Dax pulled the heart free of the body and, looking straight into Mitro’s eyes, let
     the useless organ drop into the fiery pit below. He felt no animosity toward the