Total pages in book: 182
Estimated words: 165649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 663(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 165649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 828(@200wpm)___ 663(@250wpm)___ 552(@300wpm)
The owls and crows made no sound, but continuously walked back and forth on the twisted limbs, peering toward the lake, their gazes suddenly focused in that direction, alerting Ferro and his brethren. Crows were day birds, but they were out in numbers, spies for their master. Shadows appeared darker, staining the surface, as several hideous creatures flew low just above the lake’s waters.
Do not engage. Let us see where their lair is. They must have an entrance nearby, Ferro cautioned.
Ferro doubted if this location had been chosen by Sergey originally. It was more likely one of his brothers who had scouted the area and realized it was perfect to provide them with the hikers and campers for a steady blood supply. They were far enough away from the Carpathian compound that few hunters would stumble across them.
The four ancient hunters stayed a good distance apart, careful not to make any movement that would alert the watchers or the master vampires hurrying back to their lair. Ferro wanted to know how extensive Sergey’s army really was. How many could he count on to throw at the compound? How many would he be willing to sacrifice in order to get Elisabeta back? Would the hunters be able to wipe out the threat in one major attack, or would they have to hit hard in several smaller ones?
More than anything, Ferro wanted to eliminate the threat to his lifemate, but first he needed to have answers to protect all of those in the compound. It was ingrained in him as a hunter that the protection of his people always came first, and no matter what it meant to him personally, the code of honor instilled in him had to be followed.
Three vampires dropped out of the sky near the shore of the lake and strode purposefully toward the forest. They weren’t trying to impress anyone with their looks. They appeared in their real state of decay, rotting flesh stretched over bone, hair mostly gone or falling out in chunks, teeth pointed and stained. At the tree line they separated to about twelve feet apart and lifted their hands high into the air.
Ferro and the brethren watched closely as they wove a complicated pattern, opening an unseen entrance so very well hidden that not one of the ancients had detected its presence. They noted the positioning of the three advance guards. Ferro vaguely recognized the three vampires. They were much younger than he was, but he had run across each of them on more than one occasion while they were still hunters.
The one to his left was from a good lineage. He remembered the father. A great hunter, legendary even. He’d been killed by three master vampires. He’d taken one of them with him before he’d succumbed. His son went by Van Halen. Luther Van Halen.
Sedrick Overtower was in the middle. Ferro didn’t know much about him or his family, but he seemed to be a decent enough hunter.
The one on the right had been sloppy as a hunter, too loud at times, and Ferro was a little surprised that he had managed to survive and battle his way to become a master vampire. It didn’t seem likely given the fact that he should have been killed early on in his hunting career. He had called himself Edward Varga back then. Even now, when he was opening the gates of the lair inside the forest, Varga was a bit sloppy, his movements less precise than the others’. Ferro found it interesting that he had been chosen as one of Sergey’s advance guards. He couldn’t imagine any of the other Malinov brothers tolerating Varga’s ways.
A veil appeared, like a thick spider’s web, a dank, dingy gray color. It hung like Spanish moss might from the twisted branches of the trees, a macabre shawl dripping in poisonous venom. Little beads of darker gray oozed from the web, ran down the strands to trickle onto the ground where they hissed and steamed as they hit the rotting vegetation. The pools spread out into a thin stream, connecting until they formed a moat, a semicircle—a barrier around the opening the vampires had disclosed.
Once the moat was in place, the strands of the web drew back, hissing and moaning as if alive and reluctant to part, the threads reaching toward the vampires, down toward the ground, and up into the trees toward the sentries there. One tentacle managed to wrap itself around a crow and drag it back into the center of the web. The crow screamed horribly, beak opened wide, eyes rolling wildly as the hungry threads began to consume it alive.
The vampires paused what they were doing to watch, clearly amused by the spectacle, enjoying the bird’s pain. Varga’s thin lips stretched wide and he made a squawking sound, imitating the bird’s distressed cry. The other two vampires laughed. Even as they did, the air around them suddenly grew so dense that they began to cough. Varga coughed up blood and spat maggots onto the ground. Some landed in the moat, where the acid fried them instantly.