Drake Sisters 07 - Hidden Currents

there, fresh, the scent wafting temptingly and drifting back toward the wolf. Wary, he circled, using his nose to detect potential danger. Scenting nothing but the meat, with his saliva running and his bel y empty, he approached again, coming in downwind, angling toward the large piece of lifesaving food. He came in three times and backed away, but no hint of danger presented itself.
    He nosed in a fourth time and something slipped over his neck.
    The alpha leapt back and the wire tightened. The more he struggled, the more the wire cut into him, strangling the air from his lungs and sawing through flesh. The pack circled, pacing, his female rushing to aid him. She began to struggle as another wire snared her neck, nearly knocking her off her feet.
    For a moment there was a hush, broken only by the gasping breath of the two trapped wolves. A twig snapped. The pack whirled and dissolved in a rush of fleeing shadows, back into the thicker cover of the trees. The bushes parted and a woman stepped into the open. She was dressed in black winter boots and black pants that rode low on her hips. She wore a vest of black that left her midriff bare and had two sets of steel buckles running down the middle. The six buckles were shiny, almost ornamental, with tiny crosses running up and around, embedded in the squared silver pieces.
    A wealth of blue-black hair spil ed beyond her waist, pul ed back in a single thick braid. The long, hooded coat she wore, made of what appeared to be a single silver-tipped wolf pelt, fel al the way to her ankles. She carried a crossbow in one hand, a sword at one hip and a knife at the other. Arrows were in a quiver slung over her shoulder, and al down the inside of the long wolf skin were smal loops containing various sharp-bladed weapons. A low-slung holster adorned with rows of very smal , flat, razor-sharp arrowheads housed a pistol on her hip.
    She paused for a moment, surveying the scene. “Be stil ,†she hissed, both annoyance and authority in her soft voice.
    Both wolves instantly ceased struggling at her command, waiting, bodies trembling, sides heaving and heads held low to try to ease the terrible pressure closing around their throats. The woman moved with fluid grace, flowing over the surface rather than sinking into the ice-crusted snow. She studied the snares, a multitude of them, disgust in her dark eyes.
    â€œThey’ve done this before,†she scolded. “I showed them to you, but you were too greedy, looking for an easy meal. I should let you die here in agony.†Even as she rebuked the wolves, she withdrew a pair of wire cutters from inside the wolf pelt and snipped the wires, freeing them. She pushed her fingers into the fur, over the cuts deep in their throats, and clamped her palm over the slashes, chanting softly. White light burst under her hand, glowing around and through the wolves’ fur.
    â€œThat should make you feel better,†she said, affection creeping into her tone as she scratched the ears of both wolves.
    The alpha growled a warning and his mate bared her teeth, both facing away from the woman. She smiled. “I smel him. It is impossible not to smel the foul stench of vampire.â€
    She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at the tal , powerful male emerging from the twisted, gnarled trunk of a large evergreen fir. The trunk gaped open, split nearly in two, blackened and peeled back, the needles on the outstretched limbs withering as the tree expel ed the venomous creature from its depths. Icicles rained down like smal spears as the branches shivered and shook, trembling from contact with such a foul creature.
    The woman rose graceful y, turning to face her enemy, signaling for the wolves to melt back into the forest. “I see you have resorted to setting traps to get sustenance these days, Cristofor. Are you so slow and foul that you can no longer lure a human to use as food?â€
    â€œSlayer!†The vampire’s voice seemed rusty, as if his vocal cords were rarely used. “I knew if I brought your pack to me, you would come.â€
    Her eyebrow shot up. “A pretty invitation then, Cristofor. I remember you from the old days when you were a young man, stil handsome to look at. I left you alone for old time’s sake, but I see you crave the sweet release of death. Wel , old friend, so be it.â€
    â€œThey say you cannot be kil ed,†Cristofor said. “The legend that haunts al