I’ve got something, he said.

Dragomir stopped moving forward. He materialized beside him. The two barely fit in the narrow space.

Andor streamed past them. I’ll check out the rest of this passageway and come back.

Dragomir concentrated on the fissure in the floor. It had been there for centuries. No vampire had constructed it, but they could easily have taken advantage of it. Even though they were in darkness, with a mountain on top of them, a barrier between him and the sun, he still felt the burn as the sun began its first journey.

Let’s get this done. You ready?

In answer, Afanasiv waved his hand to open the crack. It widened a mere half inch. As it did, the entire boulder above and around them creaked and groaned. Dirt ran down the sides of the cavern to land on the floor. Dragomir was already streaming through the crack, Afanasiv behind him. They were used to traveling in complete darkness. They were used to tons of earth overhead. More, hunting vampires was what they were most comfortable doing.

Below them was space, lots of space. The boulder hid a cave beneath with no outside entrance. The cool air hit their bodies, feeling good after the heat of the narrow corridor. Dragomir knew instantly they weren’t alone. Vampires had a stench to them. They were undead, their bodies often decomposing before they could figure out how – or bother – to overcome that little stumbling block.

The stench indicated the lair was used often – or by multiple vampires. The latter would be highly unusual, but then, he didn’t discount the idea simply because in the past it hadn’t been done. Vampires were vain and selfish. They wanted glory. They didn’t want to share their victims. On the other hand, their biggest drive was to stay alive. Vadim had somehow connected with that drive and he’d built himself an unusual army. These vampires used modern technology, and they worked together. They had an acknowledged leader.

We’re not alone, he warned. One, possibly more.

The attack came out of the darkness, a fireball that lit the world around him, exposing the cave to his vision. He instantly mapped it, committing every curve, every rock, the ceiling, floor and surrounding walls to memory even while he dodged the fireball and dropped straight down toward the vampire rising out of the ground.

It was Leon, and he wasn’t alone in the chamber. Leon called out, and three spouts of fresh dirt rose into the air like giant plumes. In the dwindling light of the fireball, Dragomir recognized two of the three. One called himself Ravenous. He must have turned quite recently because he was disheveled and shaky as he came out of the ground. The second one he recognized was named Eugen, and he also must have turned recently. Both had been a few centuries younger, but they’d been impressive hunters.

Leon must be the master vampire, or at least moving in that direction. He gave the information to Afanasiv even as he drove straight at Leon. Leon squawked and hurtled a spinning spear of fire at him, dodging to the left and disappearing behind a large rock.

He wishes he was a master vampire, Afanasiv said. Collecting pawns doesn’t make you good in battle. Leon and his brothers perfected the art of running away.

Dragomir had to agree with the ancient. Truthfully, though, he’d been out of the game for a while. His recent battles were the only experience he’d had since he’d entered the monastery. Yes, they’d kept up their practices, and they’d shared battle strategy and what they knew of various Carpathians and vampires, but he hadn’t had actual practice in a while.

He pursued Leon, expecting an attack, but Leon circled around toward Ravenous and Eugen. Do you know the third one? He had some information on the other two and he imparted it immediately to Afanasiv. He shared the lesser vampires’ weak sides, which weapons they favored, which battles they’d fought in, everything he could remember. Dragomir couldn’t remember his past, growing up as a child, but he remembered battles. Wars. Weapons. He pushed what he had into the ancient’s mind. It took no more than a couple of seconds to arm Afanasiv with everything he knew about the vampires.

The third one is called Kaiser. He was a hanger-on with the Astors. I’m surprised you don’t remember him. He’s a tricky devil. Well versed in warfare. My guess, he’s been with the Astors, running interference for them for centuries. Watch him. He’s probably the most experienced and the deadliest.

The spear had been thrown with such force it embedded into the wall of rock, throwing light through the chamber. Kaiser’s lips were drawn back in a savage grimace as he saw who he faced. If he chose to stay and fight, he would be fighting two ancients with fierce reputations, with little help. If he ran, he would be chancing burning alive as the sun rose. He didn’t have any good options.

Kaiser raised his hand and waved it toward the spear. It dropped to the ground and as it did so, the flame was extinguished, plunging the cavern into darkness again. Dragomir had no trouble seeing in the dark as a rule, but there seemed to be a thick veil covering the space, one difficult to penetrate without light. He waved his hand and light burst throughout the cave. Kaiser was nowhere in sight.

Leon flattened himself against the ceiling near the opening. When he realized Dragomir could see him, he screamed to his three pawns to attack while he crawled along the ceiling to the crack. Dragomir smacked his hands together loudly and the fissure closed with a clap of thunder, sealing itself, preventing Leon’s escape.

Afanasiv dropped down fast, driving his fist into Ravenous’s chest, fingers reaching through bone and sinew, talons scraping away flesh to get at the heart. He tore it from the vampire’s chest and flung it to the floor of the chamber. Ravenous abandoned tearing and biting at the ancient to dive after the falling heart. Afanasiv waited until the vampire’s outstretched fingers nearly connected before sending the fiery spear rolling right through the withered, blackened organ. The flames were white-hot, bright orange red, spilling glaring light across Ravenous’s face. His lips were pulled back in a soundless grimace of sheer strain as he desperately tried to force his long, bony fingers into that fire to retrieve his heart.

Leon crab-walked down the side of the cavern, his features, too, illuminated by the fiery spear incinerating the lesser vampire’s heart. He didn’t appear as fearful as he should have. The cave filled with the sound of a drumbeat, a call, Leon sending for reinforcements. That told Dragomir that there were other pawns in the web of underground caves. That didn’t matter since the other ancients, he was certain, were already dispensing justice to those vampires.

He followed Leon’s every move, matching the steps like a dance partner, he on the ground, Leon coming down the side of the cave. Leon’s eyes flared, went bright with excitement and adrenaline, a red flame flickering in their depths. Dragomir took that as his warning, spinning to meet the attack of Kaiser. The vampire came at him with dozens of replications of himself surrounding Dragomir. The ancient ducked low and went under the wall of Kaisers, somersaulted and came up behind the one he was certain was the real flesh-and-blood vampire. He’d chosen that one simply because, just once, the eyes shifted toward Afanasiv. It was a small thing, but it was telling.

He caught the head between his hands before the vampire could spin around, wrenched with his enormous strength, snapping the neck bones and tossing the body to one side. Leon waved his hand at the replicas, giving them a kind of life. Each of the bodies, and there were a dozen, turned to face Dragomir.

Afanasiv darted toward Leon as soon as Ravenous’s heart was fully incinerated. It took much longer than the mere second with a lightning whip, but the way the cavern was formed, they had little chance of bringing the lightning down to them. He improvised, heating the fiery spear as close to the temperature as possible.

Leon, as if directing a symphony, had both arms in the air and tossed his make-believe army in front of the Carpathian hunter. They rushed him, wicked talons reaching for his chest and face, trying to gouge out his eyes and get to his heart.

Dragomir kept to his task. If he could incinerate the heart, all the replicas would drop. Kaiser’s head flopped to his right and then fell back, a grotesque parody of what once had been a Carpathian male. Kaiser didn’t seem to need his head to maneuver. He reached up to right it, smiling insanely at the ancient as he did so. The moment he straightened his head, he launched himself into the air, flying at Dragomir’s face, scoring with his talons across his eyes to try to blind him.