Manolito moved quickly through the barren shadow world, seeking the darker edges where the undead gathered in packs to wail while they waited to know their fate. He had the illusion of wearing his body, striding over the uneven ground, making his way through the tangle of huge roots, just as if he were still back

in the rain forest, but he was too light, almost floating, and when he looked down, his hands and arms were transparent. He could see the rotting vegetation on the ground as he passed through on his way to the mountains of jagged boulders that marked the entrance to the meadow of mists.

A few spirits frowned at him as he strode by them, a couple lifted a hand as if they might recognize him, but for the most part, he was ignored. It was strange to him that as he glided through the forests and hills, he could clearly see that two types of people populated the land, where before he hadn't noticed.

The meadow seemed to separate those who had little or no remorse for the things they did in their former life from the ones who struggled to understand where they had gone wrong. Few had been around to greet him.

As he approached closer to the meadow, heat and steam rose to envelope him. Where before the mists were simply gray and dunk, with no feeling of hope, now the air was even more oppressive and seemed thick with tension, as if uneasiness walked the land. In the distance he heard the sounds of mocking laughter, the whisper of voices calling his name. They waited for him, knew he approached.

Was it really possible for an army of the undead to find a way back to the land of the living? If so, he would have to find a way to stop them. He had to let go of his fears for MaryAnn and give this world his full attention. He couldn't be in two places at one time. He would have to trust that Riordan had arrived to protect MaryAnn from harm. He didn't dare touch MaryAnn's mind and accidentally pull her into the spirit world with him. He had to keep her from danger at all costs-even his life should that be necessary. He shut down all emotion and turned his attention wholly to the problem at hand.

If the vampires were acting to invade the land of the living, they had someone powerful helping them. Razvan or Xavier, the two most powerful mages in existence. Maybe both. No one else could wield that kind of power. And if Xavier and Maxim were allies working together to bring down the Carpathian people, Xavier certainly would have told Maxim if he was trying to find a way to tap into an army of the undead. Everyone knew Xavier called on shadow warriors, men of honor long gone from the world, their spirits imprisoned by the skilled mage to do his bidding. If Xavier could yoke the shadow warriors, he might find a way to harness the legions of undead waiting in the meadow of mists.

The way seemed longer, and more people tentatively greeted him, which surprised him. Before, the first time his spirit had arrived, most turned away with a quick gesture toward the meadow, yet now the inhabitants seemed to accept him. As he moved closer to his destination, he felt an easiness spreading and realized that when he had arrived the first time, his spirit had been dark, close to turning, so close that even within the land of the dead, he had been considered closer to vampire than to hunter. The atmosphere around the meadow hadn't bothered him and he had instinctively sought it out. Now his spirit must appear brighter, more normal. The growing stain across his soul had receded because of MaryAnn. He owed her more even than he had known.

He came to the meadow and halted, staring out over the expanse of sinkholes and shifting soil. It looked like a spongy marsh, and when he put his foot on it in experimentation, he sank to his ankle. His body had no real weight here, so the reaction made no sense. He hesitated, studying the barren land. Only a few scattered weeds and thistles grew in the center of the marsh. Dark reeds lined the edges, bent like old straws. Steam rose from vent holes, and minerals of all colors-dim, not bright-rimmed boiling mud ponds. The sludge quivered and popped, splattering large, dark spots of oozing mud and adding to the rising steam.

The mist lay heavy over the meadow, a gray-green vapor that reeked of sulfur. He stood for a time studying the rising plumes of hot gases and wondering why it had been so easy to cross it on his first visit.

"You look lost, Manolito." A voice greeted him from behind.

Manolito spun around and found himself face-to-face with Vlad Dubrinsky. Emotion welled up sharp and

fast, a piercing shock that threatened to shake his confidence. Joy. Guilt. Shame. Amazement. Pride. Vlad Dubrinsky had been more than a prince to him. When their own father had chosen to follow his lifemate into death, Vlad had stepped in to fill the gulf left by the death of their parents. He'd guided Manolito and his brothers, mentored them, respected their counsel. Yet, in the end, they had repudiated him for trying to save his son when he knew there was no hope.

"My prince. I did not expect to find you in such a place."

Vlad stepped forward and gripped his forearms in the timeless greeting of respect between warriors. "It is good to see you, old friend."

"I do not understand how you can be in this place."

Vlad's eyebrow shot up. "You do not? This is where we wait between worlds, Manolito."

"Wait for what? I came here and found only condemnation. Accusations. Invitations to join the undead."

"You are not quite spirit, yet not quite one with your body."

"I was killed, yet my brothers held my spirit to earth. Gregori went down the tree of life to retrieve me, but I woke too soon. My spirit and body had not yet had time to meld together, so I walk in both lands."

Vlad gestured across the meadow. "You do not belong with the vampires. I can see by your spirit you have not succumbed to our darker nature."

"I was close. Too close."

"You do not want to go to their resting ground. They cannot kill you, but they have devised ways to torture and drive the spirit mad. They cannot leave this place without accepting their own guilt, yet they will not. They blame everyone around them. I suspect many would like to get their teeth into you. Come with me to the campfire of warriors. We will once again talk."

"My body is vulnerable in the other world, Vlad, and there are conspiracies I have to uncover in order to keep our people safe. I believe Maxim is raising an army of the dead and hopes to find a portal from this land to the living."

Vlad stopped moving to frown at him, then shook his head. "I should have guessed he would be up to no good. Come. It is a small way and we might be of use to you. In any case, Sarantha will want to see you. Give us news and let us give you aid."

"I still do not understand how you can be here, waiting for judgment. You were never close to turning. You served our people with honor."

"Do you believe, after all this time, that I never made mistakes, Manolito? I made many. I tried to do my best, but like any man, I had my failings. You should know that better than most. I tried to save my eldest son at a cost to many others. Was that a wise decision? Or even a fair one?"

"You could not have known what would happen."

"Of course I knew. I did not want to believe it, but I had the gift of precognition. I knew, yet I set the course because I could not bear to destroy my own son. When I confessed to Sarantha, she begged me not to let him die, and fool that I was, I chose the path of destruction for all our people. I am responsible for many things

that should never have come to pass. In the end, the job that should have been mine was shouldered by my son Mikhail."

Manolito could barely accept what he was hearing. All along he had felt guilt and shame for condemning Vlad's decision. He loved him and respected him, and yet he had felt a traitor for plotting to overthrow him.

"It was not in the best interest of our people." He choked on the words, on the lump growing in his throat. The Malinov brothers had lost their beloved sister, Ivory, and so had the De La Cruz brothers. She had been their light, the reason they all continued their hope and belief in their people. With her death, the darkness had descended on all of them, triggering a chain of events that could still very well lead to the destruction of their entire species.

"No," Vlad agreed, his tone very even. "It was not. I am no deity. No Carpathian male is. We are all capable of great wrongs."

Manolito swallowed the tight ball of condemnation welling in his throat. What could he say to that? He had done things in his life, many things, he regretted. At the time they were done without emotion, but he could remember every single incident, and the worst crime had been against his own lifemate.

He hung his head. "What you say is true. I was close to turning when I heard the voice of my lifemate. She was under the protection of Mikhail and Gregori, along with several other Carpathians. I cared nothing for the laws and I took her blood without her consent or knowledge, binding her to me."

Vlad nodded his head. "It was a challenge to you."

"To get through their ranks and claim what belonged to me? Yes. Am I sorry for it? I do not know the answer to that. I am sorry I did not reveal myself to her and tell her my reasons for taking her life out of her hands without consent, but I do not think doing so was wrong-only the way I did it."

"Our people have lived long beside humans, and our rules are different for reasons, Manolito. We were given the ability to bind our lifemate because without that our people would have died out long ago. Few will ever be able to understand that, but if we do our best to love and respect our women, always putting them first once they are in our care, we have a better chance that other species will come to understand and accept us."

"The world has changed a great deal in your absence, Vlad, and with it, our people. I have found it difficult to accept the new ways."

Vlad clapped him on his shoulder, the touch so light Manolito barely felt it. Vlad's body was even less distinctive than his. "We all have flaws, Manolito, and we all have to work to overcome them. There is no shame in that. Come, greet Sarantha and give us all the news of our loved ones."

"I truly have little time. MaryAnn, my lifemate, is guarding my body and I believe she will be attacked. I have to stop Maxim before he figures out a way to leave this place with an army of the undead."

Vlad shook his head. "He cannot find a way out of this world."

"Do not be so certain. Maxim works in league with Xavier."

Vlad turned his head slowly, the smile fading from his face. "Xavier still lives?"

"We believe so. And his grandson, Razvan, works with him to destroy our people. We are almost certain that Maxim's brothers are all involved in a plot to destroy Mikhail, a plot I helped to devise." Manolito refused to

look away from Vlad as he confessed. This was the man he respected above all others, with the exception of his brothers. This was the man he'd once thought of as his father. And this was the man whose downfall he'd helped to plan. He would not lie or shy away from the guilt and shame of his deed.

Vlad remained silent for a long moment. There was no flicker of disappointment or disgust on his face; he simply locked gazes with Manolito and stared him in the eye. "Do you think it comes as a surprise to me that you and your brothers entertained the idea of bringing down the reign of Dubrinsky? You were always intelligent and you saw my crime. You knew what I had done. In trying to save my son, I did betray our people. You had every right to question my judgment. It was not sound."

"We did not have the right to plot your downfall or the destruction of every other species we were allies with."

"To take me down, you would have had to take them down." Vlad nodded his head. "It makes sense, of course." He waved his hand toward a small grove of trees. "Please come for a few minutes. A few of us guard this area to keep newcomers from wandering into the land of the fallen ones."

Manolito matched his steps, although, as much as he wanted to talk to Vlad and even get advice on the elusive werewolf species, he was impatient to confront Maxim and get back to MaryAnn. A sense of urgency was growing inside of him.

He had been expecting Vlad to condemn him. Maybe it would have been easier to face what he'd done if his prince had been angry. "I am sorry," he said quietly. Sincerely. "I had no idea the plan would ever be implemented. I had no idea the Malinovs hated you so much. In the end we talked for hours, and Zacarias and Ruslan agreed that we all would remain loyal to you and serve you with honor. We took a blood oath."

"You and your brothers have served our people faithfully," Vlad said. "Even here we get news as warriors or vampires come." He pushed through a wall of ferns. "Ah, here is Sarantha. My darling, I have brought a guest."

Sarantha turned, her smile lighting her face, and her eyes brightening the dull colors around them. "Manolito. It is wonderful to see you, although I have heard rumors you walk in both worlds. How are my sons and their lifemates? How is my granddaughter? I understand she is quite lovely. You must tell me everything, all the news." She hugged him, her body light and insubstantial against his. "You must have a lifemate or your spirit would not be so bright. Tell me about her."

Vlad laughed. "Give him a chance to speak, my love. He is in a great hurry."

"Forgive me. I am just so excited to see you." She patted a spot by the campfire. "Do you have a few moments of your time to give to me?"

"Of course." He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Mikhail is a wonderful leader. You would be proud of him. His lifemate is a good match for him and is helping to lead our people back into a more cohesive society. Jacques and Shea have had a son, a boy. I was gone before the naming ceremony, so I do not know what they have called him. I heard that Savannah, your granddaughter, is expecting twins."

Sarantha threw herself into Vlad's arms. "I wish we could see them."

"Someday," Vlad said, enfolding her close. "We will be united with our loved ones. We are moving from this life to the next very soon."

She nodded and turned her face up to his to brush a small kiss along his chin. "And your lifemate, Manolito?

Tell us about her."

"She is courageous. And beautiful. And she makes me want to be better with every rising." Manolito frowned, wanting information without giving too much away. "Vlad, tell me what you know of the guardians. The werewolves."

Vlad sank cross-legged to the ground. "Little is known of their society, although legends abound. I think they started most of the myths to keep people frightened and away from them, but then that backfired and they were hunted by humans. They live in human form most of the time. They exist on all continents, or did in ancient times. Few can ever tell them from humans."

"How can they stay secret even from us?"

"They do not have brain function all that different from a human; they simply use more of the brain, as we do. Most of the time, the wolf stays silent within them, so they appear completely human."

"What would happen to a wolf if he became Carpathian?"

"Cross the species?" Vlad glanced at Sarantha. "I do not know. I have never heard of such a thing."

"Can it even be done?" Sarantha asked.

"I have no idea," Manolito said. "But humans have been successfully brought into Carpathian society. As werewolves are psychic, it is theoretically possible."

Vlad let his breath out. "I am glad it is not a decision I have to make. A wolf and a Carpathian. The combination might be lethal."

"Or exciting," Sarantha interjected. "Two species of equal power."

"What would it do to the person? To their body and mind? What would they become?"

Vlad opened his mouth and closed it abruptly. "I see your dilemma." And he did. Much more than Manolito might have wanted him to see. "I cannot help you. As far as I know, it has never been done. Both bloodlines are of equal power. I do not know which would emerge victorious, if either."

"And what do you know of Xavier?"

Vlad sighed and reached for Sarantha's hand. "In truth, it is long since I had to make decisions for my people. I am grateful that I can simply exist without my choices having impact on anyone other than my lifemate. Even speaking of Xavier is difficult. He was a good friend. One I believed in. One I loved as a brother. He betrayed us as no other could have done."

"Why?"

"Greed. Jealously. He wanted to be immortal. I tried to tell him there was no real immortality-after all, we too can be killed-but he came to believe he was superior and should have the kind of longevity we have. Unfortunately, all of our safeguards were founded on mage spells-spells he provided. Over the years we added to them, but the weave of energy is the same, and that made us-and still makes us-vulnerable to him."

"When you were such good friends..."

"He wanted me to give him a Carpathian woman. I tried to explain about lifemates, but he refused to see reason. We had many arguments, and he became convinced that I was deliberately keeping him from being immortal because I feared his power. Eventually we began to separate our two societies, although he maintained the schools for our fledglings to learn. Rhiannon was one of his best students and he decided to keep her for himself. He had her lifemate murdered and he took her. He must have planned it for a long while, because she was Dragonseeker and few could have held her against her will, let alone got her pregnant. Yes. We have heard that he had children by her." His fingers tightened around Sarantha's. "There was nothing I could do to stop him, and now he is trying to destroy our people."

"He was evil then and he is now," Manolito said. "He has banded with the Malinovs and is implementing the plan we devised. Now that we know what he is doing, Zacarias will take word to Mikhail and we will send out emissaries to each of our allies and try to stop him before he goes any further. But first, I have to stop Maxim."

"Oh dear," Sarantha looked at her lifemate. "Maxim is such a troublemaker. He cannot accept his mistakes. He refuses all responsibility, and until he atones in some way, until he learns, he cannot move on.'"

Manolito pushed himself to his feet. "I cannot stay longer. I fear for MaryAnn's safety. It was an honor to see you both."

"I will come with you and see what I can do to help," Vlad volunteered.

Manolito shook his head. "You know you cannot. This is my problem to solve. I am trapped in two worlds and cannot live in both. This is my burden alone, sir, but I thank you for wanting to shoulder it with me." He gripped his prince's forearms in the time-honored manner and then leaned down to kiss Sarantha. "I will give your love to your family."

"Be well, Manolito," Sarantha said.

"Live large," Vlad added.

Manolito strode back through the trees, looking back once for a glimpse of the leader of his people. Sarantha and Vlad had their arms around each other, their bodies giving off a faint glow of light that seemed to grow stronger, more blinding in the midst of the gray, dank world. The sight of them, so in love, so bound to each other, made him long for the same thing with MaryAnn. He sighed and resolutely turned back to face the path to the meadow. A slight wind blew through the leaves in the small grove of trees but failed to reach him, even when he lifted his face to try to feel the breeze.

How could he uncover Maxim's plan? The vampire would never trust him, never believe he had come over to his side. What was left? Vlad had said that the undead had devised ways to torture and drive one mad. How did you drive a spirit mad? Or for that matter, torture one? He frowned as he mulled it over. A war of the wits then. There could be no other answer. For good or evil, he had to risk everything for his people-and for MaryAnn. If he was wrong...

He shrugged and proceeded to the belching, steaming meadow where the veil of mist hung low and the bubbling pools of mud spit out dark, ugly stains. Maxim and his army of undead waited on the other side. He could see shadows moving in the dull gray of the mist, eyes glowing red and voices rising on the steam.

He streaked across the space, avoiding the plumes of steam and sudden hissing geysers as they spouted into the air, throwing more of the dark mud in all directions. He burst through the veil of mist, straight into the center of the vampire circle.

Maxim hissed his surprise and stopped dead, arms still raised in the air. The chanting faltered, and the others forming the circle around Maxim stepped back, covering their faces.

Maxim forced a smile, showing the pegs of his stained teeth. "I see you have returned to us, old friend. Join us in our little ceremony."

"I certainly did not mean to interrupt you, Maxim. By all means, you and your friends continue with what you were doing."

"You do not mind, then?" Maxim asked, with a faint, deadly smirk.

"No, of course not." Manolito folded his arms across his chest.

Maxim raised his arms and began chanting once again. The vampires circling him moved their feet in a hypnotic pattern and began to lift their voices in a mesmerizing incantation.

Manolito deliberately walked around Maxim, studying him from every angle, watching the flow of his hands, committing each movement to memory.

Maxim sighed and dropped his arms. "What is it?"

"Carry on, Maxim. I am just contemplating where I have seen this particular spell used. I believe it is one of Xavier's earlier works, when he first was attempting to bind the shadow warriors to him. We studied him, remember? He was a brilliant man."

"He is a brilliant man."

"Not so much anymore," Manolito said in disagreement. The other undead had once again stopped their chanting and were watching. "He has grown senile. He lives off the blood of our people, but he was never meant for longevity and his mind is going." He stepped closer to Maxim and lowered his voice so only the master vampire could hear. "He no longer can produce new spells. He has to have others, lesser mages, do it for him."

"You lie!" Maxim hissed. "I know you lie."

"You know I do not," Manolito replied calmly, once more circling Maxim. "You have always been of superior intelligence. I do not flatter you when I remind you of that. You could reason things out. Xavier lacks the ability to think of anything new. He relies heavily on the things he knew before, and I doubt he remembers much of that." He stopped again on the vampire's other side and whispered in that ear. "Why do you think he seeks the book?" Xavier had compiled his spells into one book, now guarded by the prince of the Carpathians.

Maxim growled and swung his head back and forth, his eyes glowing with red-hot flames. "He is a powerful man."

Manolito nodded and once more began walking in a circle, moving his feet in a dance pattern as he went, watching the master of the undead try to follow the intricate, hypnotic steps. "Very powerful. In spite of the fact that he no longer makes up his own spells, he is still a powerful mage. But he cannot do what he promises you and your brothers. He cannot open the portal to allow your army of the undead to come forth. That's why he has given you the ancient spell of the shadow warriors."

Maxim continued to turn in a circle with him, following his every movement with suspicion. When Manolito

stopped and leaned in close, he automatically did the same.

"He knows Vikirnoff's lifemate can send the warriors back to their own realm. He was using her spells, and now he no longer has control of her. He's left with nothing, but dares not let Ruslan and your brothers know the truth. Of what use would he be then to them?" Before Maxim could answer, Manolito once more took off circling.

The vampire gripped his own head in agitation and screamed, the sound rubbing across nerves like sandpaper. "It does not matter, Manolito. Xavier did not figure out what to do; Ruslan did, and he is always right. Always. Zacarias was a fool to follow Vlad instead of Ruslan. We had a code, a blood oath, and you broke it."

"Our blood oath was to one another and to the prince, Maxim. The De La Cruz family was always loyal to the Malinovs."

"We gave you the opportunity to join us. We talked all night of it. You insisted on following the prince and his murdering son." Maxim spat out the last words, his face contorted with hatred and rage. He stepped up toe-to-toe, staring Manolito in the eyes, so that the red flames burning in his sunken eye sockets were plainly visible. "Betrayer," he accused. "You deserve to die."

Manolito didn't flinch away from the foul stench of Maxim's breath or the savage hatred on his face. "I did die. How else would I be here?"

"You went back, and that means it is possible. Xavier will find a way to return me to the others or he will die a long, painful death. He knows not to betray us. Our memories are long, and you will suffer for your betrayal."

"Will I?"

Maxim's fury erupted so strong there was no containing it. He threw back his head and howled, reaching to seize Manolito's shoulders with his claws, the talons piercing deep and tearing through the flesh so that blood ran and the other vampires erupted into a frenzy, racing forward in an attempt to lick at the dark red streams.

For one moment, pain burst through him, bright and hot, twisting his gut and beating at his brain, but Manolito quelled his body's reaction and stayed perfectly still as the vampires swarmed around him. He shoved down his revulsion and smiled at Maxim, his gaze calm. "Do you think to trick me so easily? It is an illusion. Nothing more. You cannot kill what is already dead. I have no body in this place. These fools want to believe, but even they can only taste the dirt on the ground as they root around."

Contempt on his face, he touched one with his foot as the undead clawed at the barren ground. The noise was hideous as they all tried in vain to get to fresh blood. Growls and hisses, animals gone mad. "This is what you have been reduced to, Maxim? You were once a great man, and now you wallow like swine in a pen."

Screaming with rage, Maxim struck him repeatedly in the face, shredding flesh with his long yellow nails. It was difficult to stand still under the attack, to keep his mind from believing what was happening was real. Flesh appeared to fly in all directions. Blood splattered everywhere.

Manolito kept his arms loosely at his sides and forced the smile to remain, even when the other vampires went mad, trying to shove bits of his flesh into their mouths, going so far as to sink teeth into his shoulders and chest. It was one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his life, standing there while the undead gathered around him in a feeding frenzy, tearing the flesh from his bones and trying to eat him alive.

He kept his mind fixed on MaryAnn. He thought of her smile, her hair, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. Ah, the sound of her laughter was warm and bright in his mind, drowning out the sound of the vampires tearing at him. He fixed his mind on every detail of her body and the way she wore her so-fashionable clothes. Her red heels and her soft boots. Even here, in this land that made no sense, she came to his rescue, keeping her courageous image between him and madness.

"Enough!" Maxim shouted and waved the vampires away from Manolito. The undead obeyed reluctantly, some crawling along the ground trying to scoop up flesh and blood and getting only handfuls of the alkaline dirt. Some caught Maxim's legs and fawned, begging for more, their faces smeared with mud. He kicked them away from him impatiently and glared at Manolito. "Get the sneer off your face."

"I am not sneering, Maxim. I feel only pity for the creature who used to be my friend and was once a great man. Now you are content to serve these worthless ones. You have become worm fodder by your own hand. And you have lost the one thing that mattered-your keen intelligence. How could a man with a brain as sharp as yours ever believe a word Xavier said? It makes no sense that you or Ruslan-or any of your brothers for that matter-would waste your time on him."

Manolito was careful to keep the flattery to a minimum as he brought the vampire's focus back to the mage. Maxim was cunning, and he would notice if Manolito went overboard. He kept his tone very cool and slightly filled with contempt, which he knew would grate on Maxim.

The master vampire sucked in his breath, the air whistling between the jagged pegs of his teeth. Manolito could see him struggling for control, for dignity. He stepped away, placing his hands behind his back and schooling his face into even lines.

"You are mistaken about Xavier, Manolito. He will bring my army through the portal and no one will be able to defeat us. You cannot fight the dead." He laughed without mirth as if he were very amusing.

Around them the other vampires began to pull themselves together, following Maxim's example, opening their mouths wide to let out sounds that were a terrible parody of laughter. The din was grating, a wild screeching that echoed through Manolito's head and set his teeth clenching. He forced a flash of his teeth, keeping his gaze fixed on Maxim's, trying to read whatever was behind that evil mask.

"Do you really believe that, Maxim? Do you think Xavier has the power to bring you back? He created the shadow-warrior spell when he was at his peak. Now he is an old worm, feeding on the blood of young children and claiming lesser mages' magic. Do you really believe he can bring you out of here?"

"You. You are going to bring us out," Maxim snapped, the truth spilling explosively. Spittle sprayed from his mouth and the flames in his eyes leapt even higher. "So smug like always, little man. That is what you really are. Your brothers knew the truth. You are a little man who whines to become someone of importance. You think to fight us, but you cannot. You never could. You dared to enter my world, and you had the opportunity once again to join us. Twice I have given you the chance."

"You wanted me to slay my lifemate."

"You would have joined our ranks and served me. With your brains, we could have gone far, but you never could see the bigger picture. You wanted to fawn on that fool Dubrinsky. And you never understood, not even Zacarias understood: Vlad Dubrinsky betrayed you for his son. He betrayed all of us for his son."

Manolito stiffened, his mind racing. The answer was right in front of him if he could just fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Maxim wanted to tell him, wanted to show his superiority; Manolito just had to have patience and lead him in that direction. "Do you think your childish taunts are going to impress me the way they do your ridiculous dogs?" Deliberately his gesture took in the vampires desperate for Maxim's attention.

"I am a hunter. I have been a hunter for a thousand years. You have become amusing, the greatness in you long gone. You turned yourself into a puppet for the likes of Xavier."

Maxim looked as if he might explode. His eyes spun in the deep sockets, glowing red orange and yellow. He spewed venom from between his teeth, the acid landing on Manolito's skin, where it sizzled and smoked.

Manolito remained stoic beneath the attack, never blinking, never changing expression, simply watching Maxim with that same small smile of contempt that continued to get under the vampire's skin.

"You know nothing. Nothing. You also thought your intellect superior to everyone's. You and your precious brothers. Zacarias ordering us to follow that murdering, sniveling prince. Dubrinsky could have a female killed, but not his own son, and the De La Cruz brothers follow like puppies."

Manolito rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug. "Like you are doing with Xavier. Believing in his lies. He does not want to be fodder for the undead. He will tell you whatever you want to hear."

"I saw the portal," Maxim snapped. "And she will return. You are the conduit. She will come for you when she hears you screaming."

Manolito felt his heart jump, but he kept his expression the same, careful to keep his gaze filled with contempt and not blink at the revelation. He had expected it, but hearing it brought fear for MaryAnn. He pushed emotion down somewhere deep and faced the master vampire. "It will be interesting to see you do that."

"At this very moment my puppets do my bidding, attacking her while your body lies vulnerable. We will burn it and there will be no hope for your return. She will hear you screaming and she will merge with you fully as she did before. Once she is here, we can use her living spirit to return."

Manolito tasted fear now, but he forced his heart to beat with an easy rhythm. "And just how do you intend to make me scream, Maxim? So far you have failed utterly."

Maxim smirked. "There is only one capable of following every path of communication." He waved his arms, satisfaction glowing in his eyes. "Meet Draven Dubrinsky, Mikhail's older brother."

Manolito turned, and Vlad's son stood behind him, glowing with the power of his family's legacy, his eyes bright with hatred, his handsome face twisted with malice.

"She will come for you," he agreed. He stood tall, his arms out from his side, and Manolito felt the power of his mind-merge the moment it hit him.