The clinic was small, but very neat. It was dark inside, but with her acute vision, Riley had no trouble seeing inside to the dark, wide-planked floor and the cool, mint-green walls. The rooms, even the lobby, smelled of disinfectant. The three of them each spread out to take one room at a time on their own, hoping to detect the taint of Mitro.

If Riordan hadn't managed to do so by now, Riley feared it would only be the call of blood that would lead them to him-and although Dax had taken Arabejila's blood many times over the centuries, his blood had mingled with hers. The tie was there, but very faint. No, Riley knew if anyone was going to feel that feeble trace, it would be her.

After seeing Dax's memories, those terrible images in his head about Katalina and her unborn child as well as Juliette's friend and her unborn child, and feeling unable to comfort him, she was determined to do this for him. She would lead him to Mitro, and he would destroy the vampire once and for all. I'm counting on you, Old One. She whispered it in her mind like a mantra. To keep him safe for me.

She let the two hunters go through the examining rooms and even back to Dr. Silva's office. She headed for the reception desk and the files. Whoever chose the victims for Mitro had to have access to the medical records-and she was banking on whoever filed them. Mitro would want to know which women were jaguar, where they lived and everything else about them. Their records would have each patient's address. And whoever was doing the filing was touching each and every record and leaving that tiny invisible trace behind.

Her mother and grandmother and all the women who had held gifts before her had given those gifts to her for one purpose. This was her moment, her time. She was the one who had to point the hunters in the direction of the prey.

At first, as she casually opened drawers and touched each file, she felt nothing at all-and she should have, right? She took a deep breath and let it out, stilling her mind, reaching not only with the gifts the earth had given her, but also with the enhanced senses her blood exchanges with Dax had given her. Still, nothing.

She stood for a moment looking up and down the stacks of files, the endless shelves of them and the cabinet set near the doctor's office. This had to be the right place. She knew she was right. What was she really looking for? Not the clerk. The shadow. The one directing the clerk. The slice of a shadow would be inside that human puppet, and Arabejila had left her one more priceless gift-her bloodline. Her blood called to Mitro's. If there was a sliver, even a small shadow in the clerk and Mitro had put it there, her blood would know.

The idea of any connection to him was so repugnant she actually stood there for a moment with her stomach twisting into knots. Riley set her shoulders and closed her eyes briefly before she reached out and touched the chart on top of the stack waiting to be put away. Her veins pulsed. Throbbed. There it was, the tiniest of threads, but she could track it now that she had it. It was so faint, barely there, but her blood knew him. He couldn't hide from her.

Elation swept through her. "I've got him, Dax. I can find him now. Or at least the one who can lead you to him."

Dax and Riordan joined her immediately. Dax put his arm around her and swept her close. He leaned down to brush a comforting kiss on her forehead. "I knew you'd find him."

"The touch is feminine to me," Riley corrected. "I have no idea who it is, though, but I think I can follow the trail."

Even with Dax standing close, she felt the throbbing in her veins, a drumbeat that lingered in the touch of the clerk. Riley turned and walked past the doctor's office to the back door. "She goes this way to leave."

"Let's go find her," Riordan said. "I'd like to know where she lives."

"If Riley has correctly identified this clerk as the puppet, you have to know that means Mitro is directing her in every one of her actions," Dax pointed out. "She'll be as dangerous as any one of his ghouls." He stated the caution aloud, wanting Riley to understand they weren't dealing with a person anymore. Whoever she had been was long gone. She belonged to Mitro now.

"Keep in mind always," Riordan added, "that this person is responsible for the deaths of at least six babies and their mothers."

Riley moistened her lips. She knew what they were doing-preparing her should they find the woman and have to destroy her. They didn't want her to feel guilty. She'd seen what Mitro had turned villagers into-she really didn't need the warning-but she appreciated it all the same. She knew both men were looking out for her, and that was a comfort.

Dax and Riordan dropped back to allow her to take the lead. Dax scanned outside the clinic and deeming it safe, waved his hand to open the back door. Riley found the spot where the woman kept her small scooter. It was still early enough that there were people on the street. Dax caught Riley's shoulder to halt her, taking another long look around.

"You catch anything?" he asked Riordan.

Riordan shook his head. "I don't feel any danger. I think she's safe, and we'll both protect her. I'll keep everyone from seeing us. Let her track the undead's puppet."

"Are you up for this?" Dax asked. "You don't have to."

"I do," she corrected. "We're going to stop him and this is the first step."

Dax took to the air, holding Riley in front of him, Riordan flanking them, ensuring they were shielded from the evening crowd.

"To the right. Stay to the right." Riley couldn't be caught up in the beauty of the night, or flying. Holding on to that weak link between her blood and that almost nonexistent trace of Mitro was difficult and took every ounce of concentration and discipline she'd developed over the years.

The scooter had turned off the street to follow a narrow alley, through a parking garage and then down through another series of alleys, two so narrow they were more like footpaths between buildings. The buildings seemed old and worn, paint peeling, windows broken. Garbage cluttered the ground and the elderly, mentally ill and addicts shuffled along the alleys or lay under cardboard tents. Prostitutes trolled the corners of every block, some sporting black eyes and most looking hopeless. This part of the city was scarred and ugly, a hidden underbelly beneath the dazzling lights.

There was a short stop at a small store. And then the faint trail was back, the clerk making her way through a maze of back alleys until she came to what looked like an abandoned factory. The high chain-link fence was damaged in multiple areas and the scooter slipped through one of the many tears. The fence was held back with large barrels, just enough for a person or a small vehicle such as a scooter to slip through.

Dax scanned the building. "There are several men and women here."

"Underground," Riordan added. "This seems to be their residence."

"They're making their way out here to the parking lot," Dax added. "Riley, we'll keep them from seeing you. Can you pick her out of a crowd?"

"We'll see. I think so. In any case, we have to follow them just in case she leads us to someone else. She might be one link in a long chain," Riley said.

"Maybe," Dax said, "but given Mitro's personality, if this woman can function in the world working as a clerk, she's probably one of those closest to him. He wants worshippers. He needs a few priests and priestesses. He'll want them to go out and collect others. If he deems them worthy, he'll keep them as followers, otherwise, he'll sacrifice them, and each time he does, he'll make certain his flock is watching him."

"If you believe this woman gathering the names of pregnant jaguar women is a high-ranking member of his inner circle," Riordan said, "then I'm with Riley. Let's get as far on this trail as we can tonight."

They watched the group emerge. Three men and two girls came out of the warehouse. All five were dressed in black. One of the men the others referred to as Davi wore leather pants and a vest. His hair was grungy and long. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos depicting very graphic violent scenes, mainly involving naked women. He shoved his dark glasses on his nose and wrapped his arm around one of the women. He seemed to be in charge, the others agreeing with everything he said as they pushed their way through the chain-link fence and started down the uneven road.

Riley studied the two women. Both were about the same height. Both were covered in piercings and wore the same short black skirts, net stockings, corsets and high heels. The woman with the bright, dyed red hair had her breasts nearly exposed by the grungy male groping her as they walked along the dirty road. Davi called her Ana. Riley dismissed her almost immediately. She was too submissive, too easily controlled and enthralled by her male partner. Riley couldn't see Mitro willingly sharing loyalties. She turned her attention to the other woman.

Riley's pulse jumped when she concentrated on the one the others in the group called Pietra. She walked a little apart from the others, her eyes overbright as if she was on some drug. Her fingers continually twitched against her thigh as she walked, those long, painted black nails tapping out a rhythm only she heard. She carried herself slightly aloof from her companions. She walked a little faster than the others as if she was eager to reach her destination.

Riley closed herself off from everything, trusting Dax to keep her safe. She listened to that tiny throbbing drumbeat in her veins. It was deep, a nagging thump nearly drowned out by the sound of her own racing pulse.

Pietra. The one they call Pietra, she identified.

Pietra suddenly began muttering, her body jerking around her, those bright eyes going dark, almost demonic. Her face pulled into a mask of rage. She looked around her, a careful, thorough sweep of rooftops, the air above her and the buildings surrounding her.

Riley held her breath. Dax tightened his grip on her, drawing her close to him. Mitro is strong in her. He's looking through her eyes. Don't speak, not even to me.

She wasn't about to make a sound. She could see the difference in Pietra. Her beautiful face had been the mask covering evil. The woman looking around her, lips pulled back in a snarl of hatred-that was the true character behind that sweet, almost childish face. Riley realized that Mitro had chosen this woman to be in his inner circle because she was easily corrupted. She already had the seeds of cruelty and depravity in her.

Mitro appeals to her. She finds him sexy and dangerous. When he kills others in front of her it turns her on. She bathes in the blood of his victims just as she believes the countess Elizabeth Bathory did. Dax pushed the information into her mind. She has killed before. Her mother. A sister. A woman she thought was making a move on a man she liked. She was ripe for Mitro.

What in the world was she doing working in Dr. Silva's clinic around all those pregnant women? Riordan demanded.

I'm afraid your doctor isn't able to read minds in the way we can, Dax pointed out. She doesn't have that advantage. I imagine this woman is quite cunning and can appear innocent and sweet. That would also appeal to Mitro. He loves deception. The thought that he could send a killer into a place where life is brought into the world would be especially gratifying to him.

Riley wanted to weep for those lost women, victims of such atrocities, mothers to be, looking forward to the birth of their children, only to meet a woman like Pietra. Beautiful on the outside but cold and rotten on the inside. The women had trusted her, just as the doctor had.

She waited until the small group had gotten a distance in front of them and Pietra had resumed moving steadily toward her destination, no longer suspicious.

They have to be stopped, Dax. Whatever it takes, we have to stop them. She understood the drive Dax had to destroy evil now.

Dax had devoted his life to the purpose of ridding the world of creatures such as Mitro. His life had seemed filled with honor, but terribly bleak and depressing, a stark, ugly world of vile criminals. She felt the need to be right beside him, no matter how terrifying it was. People such as Pietra had to be stopped. And malicious, evil creatures such as Mitro had to be destroyed.

She felt she understood and loved Dax all the more for the insight. How could she not? He might look at his life as one of duty, but she knew just how much looking at those dead people, their lives taken from them in such brutal ways, had affected him. He lived with the memories every day.

She felt the brush of his mouth over the top of her head. I have you to take the memories away, Riley. Don't feel bad for me. I don't. My life just ... is. It was my choice.

She was well aware he had made his choices, just as she was making hers. Whatever it took, being with Dax was worth it. On some level, from the moment she'd laid eyes on the warrior, so badly wounded, she'd known he was meant to be with her.

She poured warmth and love into his mind. They might be surrounded by evil, but they could sustain one another through it.

She began to hear the muffled sounds of music and voices as they approached another set of abandoned warehouses. They followed Pietra and the others through a splintered door hanging on broken hinges. Inside the room were old mattresses, trash, needles and cigarette butts. They went through the large room without hesitation to a narrow opening that led to a staircase.

The music grew louder as did the voices as they descended. Davi pulled open a heavy door, and music blasted out. Riley clapped her hands over her ears.

Turn down the volume, Dax instructed.

It took a couple of minutes to figure out how to consciously control her ability to hear. There were hundreds of conversations going on. She could actually hear individual ones at the same time. Between that and the melancholy music, she felt a little insane. Everyone was dressed in the same dark clothing, with multiple piercings over their faces. Many wore dark glasses even in the dark of the warehouse.

Riordan nudged Dax and lifted his chin toward a man moving among the dancing crowd. Clearly he was selling drugs. Riley looked over the room and noted several dealers in the throng.

Pietra and her friends didn't deign to speak to anyone on that level, but swept across the room to the other side. The crowd parted for them immediately, never hindering their progress, which told Riley a lot about Pietra's status in the underground club. A door on the far side of the room led to another staircase leading down. As far as Riley could tell, the place was a firetrap. There were too few exits and too many people, most of them bored, drunk and high, a bad combination.

Riley felt as though she was descending into hell as they followed Pietra down the stairs to the next level. They came to a doorway with two men guarding it closely. Pietra didn't say a word, but lifted her chin, and one of the guards hastily opened the door. Dax went through fast with Riley. Riordan had to slip beneath the door when the guard shut it just as fast.

Riley nearly gagged. There was a revolting, foul feel to the air. Every breath she took felt as if she was drawing something oily and vile into her lungs. Her heart jumped in alarm. The stench of evil permeated this level. The music jangled her nerves. There were no melancholy strains, but pounding, beating chaotic notes with the crowd mindlessly freak dancing in the space much smaller than the one above them.

The smell of sweat and drugs mixed with soil and blood. The walls of the "club" were dirt, as was the floor. They weren't in a dance club. They were in Mitro's lair, surrounded by his human puppets. Great twisted vines rippled across the walls with obscene life. Riley noticed that everyone stayed well away from them.

Again the crowd parted to allow Pietra through. Davi, Ana and the others followed her, winding their way to the front of the room.

He isn't here yet, but can you feel the anticipation in this room? They're all waiting for him, Dax said.

The drug consumption here is appalling, Riordan said, looking around at the frantic, moving bodies.

There are bloodstains on the floor, the walls and up there on that dais. Dax indicated the platform at the front of the room where Pietra had draped herself casually over a chair, her elegant legs crossed, her foot tapping a rhythm to the pounding beat.

Riley studied her face. Her eyes were nearly glazed, her mouth twisted into a grotesque parody of a smile. The whites of her eyes were nearly gone. A sick black spread like a disease, nearly covering all of her eyes. Riley shuddered. A small sliver of the most evil creature on earth dwelled inside of Pietra, binding itself to the woman's own revolting, malevolent nature.

I need to feel the soil, Dax. She could feel the pain, hear it just underneath the beat of the music.

That's not going to happen. If you put your hands into the soil and his resting place is anywhere beneath us, and he's there, he'll know exactly where you are.

Riley shook her head. She couldn't explain, but she already knew Mitro wasn't in the ground. He was out hunting. The soil was calling to her. Begging her. The mutations he'd created were in pain. Their eagerness for blood was not natural. The human sacrifices fed to them burned like acid, but they had no choice.

The vines stirred restlessly, the wooden liana clacking against one another, leaves lifting as if they might reach for her. Each time the plant moved, it released a gaseous stench of evil into the room, threatening to choke her.

Dax, I can turn the very soil against him. I hear it crying out against an abomination. Nature has an order, and he goes against everything nature stands for. This might be our edge.

And he might kill you, Riley. I don't want to take that chance.

There is no living without you. You're here fighting him. I have to fight him in my own way. I look at that horrible woman sitting up there all smug, knowing she marked six women to be murdered, their babies sacrificed before they were even born, and it sickens me. She's marked Jasmine now, too.

Riley was passionate about her argument. She was angry and determined this was going to end. She might not be a warrior, but she was a child of the earth. She could heal the soil and plants before Mitro returned if Dax would just give her the chance. If Mitro tried to escape Dax and Riordan through the earth, he would be in for a huge shock. She just needed the chance to stop him, and he'd provided the perfect situation without realizing it.

Dax leaned down and put his mouth against her ear, but spoke directly into her mind. You're certain you want to do this?

More certain than anything in my life other than I love you with all my heart, she assured him. Let me do this, Dax.

First and foremost, she wanted this nightmare to end for him, but the simple truth was Mitro couldn't be allowed to continue with his revolting depravity. Arabejila and every one of her ancestors who had come after her had poured their strength, their gifts into her, making her a vessel for them.

She looked around the room. It was more of a basement, only much deeper beneath the earth. Mitro could bring the high walls down on his followers in seconds should he choose. He could open the earth and dump them into the very pit of hell should he want-and she was certain he probably had constructed this room with that idea in mind. His worshippers would all perish here, in this living tomb while he rose again and again somewhere else once he was bored, or the hunters got too close.

He thinks he's safe for now, Dax conceded. He has no idea we're even in the city.

And he obviously doesn't have a clue who I am, Riordan added.

Let's do it then. Riley will need to be at the opposite end of the room, shielded from Pietra. If Mitro uses her eyes to check the room before he arrives, we can't have him spotting her, Dax cautioned.

We have to look like everyone else so we don't draw attention, Riordan suggested. Everyone is dressed the same way. Black seems to be the color of the day. Change her features as well as your own. Appear younger. Blur your features. If she happens to spot us, and she might, at a glance, she might not really notice us.

The soil and the plants surrounding them moaned continually. The vines wept poisonous gas. The wooden stalks rattled continuously. They were ravenous, their hunger insatiable. Each plant waited like a bloated spider for prey to come to it. A fight broke out at the far end of the room, up near Pietra. She stood on the dais and watched with glowing eyes as a much larger man shoved a thin, drunken male back toward the wall.

The crowd gave a collective, eager gasp. Instantly, the entire atmosphere of the room changed. All conversation ceased, but the group began to chant, a low sound at first, but quickly swelling to a frenzied volume as one vine snaked out and shackled the boy's wrist, dragging him into the plant. Instantly vines came alive, wrapping around the struggling body.

"Eat! Eat! Eat!" the crowd shouted over and over.

The hapless victim screamed as more and more vines surrounded him, much like giant snakes, wrapping him up and squeezing.

"Eat! Eat! Eat!" The sound swelled in volume.

They sounded as if they were summoning some creature from the very depths of hell. Taproots sprang from the ground, great cables of liana, twisted and gnarled, writhing like snakes across the ground toward the terrified boy.

The sense of anticipation heightened. The crowd watched with glazed eyes and shocking smiles, urging the taproots to gorge on the blood of the victim. The taproots found him in seconds, rearing back and stabbing deep in multiple places. The boy screamed. The crowd roared. Blood ran into the roots so that they swelled and turned deep red black.

Horrified, Riley turned her face into Dax's chest.

I'm taking you out of here. Riordan and I can return and ...

No! I see what he's doing. Don't you? He really does believe I'm Arabejila. Riley understood Mitro now. Arabejila was all good. She couldn't conceive of this kind of twisted evil. He knew that. He counts on that. Determination stiffened her spine. Mitro had made one huge error.

I don't see how knowing that is going to help. Mitro can't possibly know we're here.

No, not yet, but he created this for Arabejila. To shock her. To hurt her. He believes she couldn't face such an abomination of nature. He wanted to use the very thing that is such a part of her to hurt her. This is his slap in the face to her, and at the same time, he believes she would be unable to function in the face of such an atrocity.

She probably couldn't. Not right away. But she'd recover.

Riley's head went up. She turned to face the twisted vines. His mistake is, Dax, I'm not Arabejila. I'm not all good. Arabejila and the others gave me a gift and a power he has no concept of. I can take back this ground. Consecrate it. He won't be able to penetrate below this room or use the walls. He'll have only the ceiling, and you and Riordan can keep him from that.

Dax studied her upturned face, the orange and red flames burning bright. His skin was hot against hers as if the volcano in him was very close to the surface. He slowly nodded his head.

Riley had never been more relieved-or more scared. She knew this was her purpose, her moment. The women in her family had prepared her for this and she felt ready, but confronted with such evil, she had to admit, the prospect was daunting if not downright terrifying.

Dax set her on the floor of the club. The crowd was already going back to their mindless dancing or drinking and doing drugs. No one paid attention to three more people dressed the same. Riordan and Dax didn't use a shield, which might attract the attention of the shadow of Mitro in Pietra, rather they simply blurred their images a bit, and looked much younger to blend in.

If Mitro returns, Riley, he'll know you're here. Hurry and do whatever you're going to do right now if you've made up your mind.

Riley sank to the floor and, refusing to let her nerves get the better of her, plunged her hands into the soil. There was an edge to Dax now. He'd gone from lover to warrior and she had no doubt that at the first sign of Mitro returning, if she wasn't ready, he'd take her out of there without consulting her. He was lethal, capable of exploding into violence instantly.

The soil cried out to her for aid, thick with the oily sludge of the abomination of the undead. Riley summoned every healing skill given to her by the women who had gone before. They were there, whispering to her, guiding her through the cleansing ceremony. The ground was leeched of every mineral and nutrient. The only way for the plants to survive was the twisted feeding of the mutated taproots Mitro had provided. Even the insects had fled.

Riley closed her eyes and blocked out the chaotic music and the strange buzz as the crowd danced, marionettes performing for the puppet master pulling their strings, living and dying at his whim. She went deep, searching, calling, drawing ... Past the terrible stench of the undead's resting place. The ground was soaked in blood and rotting corpses. Human bones were scattered throughout layers of soil.

For a moment her stomach lurched and she nearly pulled her hands from the soil. This job was impossible. The ground had been turned into a bed of evil. The heartbeat of the earth had been silenced, as if Mitro had managed to reach into the very core and destroy that as well.

I'm right here with you, Dax whispered into her mind. You can do this. Think of it as a cemetery and these people need to be properly laid to rest.

I am with you, the Old One added. Their souls cry out for aid.

My beloved child, Annabel murmured softly. They are caught between. Only you can bring them peace.

The voices of the women who had gone before her added their assurances.

Strength poured into her. It wasn't an impossible task to heal the earth. She was born for that purpose. She couldn't allow those Mitro had killed in such a barbaric way to never find rest because of the oily, slimy, disgusting ooze he'd created there in the soil.

Riley had to destroy the malevolent taproots, mutated and rotting with evil. She reached downward, toward the very core of the earth. I call on the power of the molten light, lend me your might for that which needs to be done, I draw forth your energy to wield and destroy that which is evil and is used as a ploy.

Riley stretched her hand downward toward the oldest taproot, channeling the molten light she had drawn from the heart of the earth, using it as she would a laser to cut into the root. Mother Earth I call to you. I seek a gift deep from within your womb. Gift me a stone that I may use it to destroy that which is evil while also releasing these souls, sending them back into a place of peaceful rest.

Riley sank her free hand deep within the rotting, soil bringing forth a jade-green stone that the earth had harvested for her to use in her fight. Chrysoprase, green in color, cool and smooth, a strong stone used to make conscious what is unconscious while lending Riley its vibrational qualities to tranquilize the evil that was fighting her to live. Riley infused the energy of the light deep into the chrysoprase, channeling it into each taproot. I combine thee light and jade-green stone destroy these roots that hold to bone, release these spirits so they may rest, give them peace and clear that which is left.

Riley's hands began to weave a pattern using the remaining healthy roots one knot at a time. A pattern began to emerge. The pattern had to be tight, unable to be penetrated or broken. Hands that hold divine light twist these vines hold them tight. Riley worked the vines into an intricate series of woven knots and then sank them deep down into the soil. Mother Earth hold this tight. I weave these vines to sustain your might. I gift you back what you have born to hold your shape, to sustain your form. Mother who bore us, mother of might, I weave this gift to sustain your life.

The roots responded to her commands, shooting out hundreds, no thousands of long, thin, very strong secondary roots. From those secondary roots a third and fourth system burst forth. The individual strands began to twist into braids, over and over, spreading through the ground until the mat was a foot thick, two feet thick and building fast, growing in depth, always growing. Fed by the rich loam, driven by Riley's command, the roots kept spreading, weaving themselves together, an impenetrable jungle of fibrous growth just below the surface and going down hundreds of feet.

Exhausted, Riley swayed. She was dizzy, disoriented and she still had to do the same thing to the walls of the room. She felt Dax's arms, so strong, offering her shelter. His skin was so hot, burning against her cheek. She turned her head and nuzzled the heat and fire and defined muscles that were so synonymous with him. His fingers massaging her scalp and neck eased some of the tension.

Take what I offer, sivamet. His voice was pure temptation.

She had been unable to eat anything. The most she'd done was drink water. There was that small part of her that was still human enough to hesitate, but she was so far into his world, it didn't take more than his hand bunching in her hair, turning her mouth to his chest, to those beading drops he'd supplied with one stroke of his fingernail across his muscle.

Every cell in her body reached for sustenance. Craved Dax. Needed him. Burned for him. Dax poured into her, all heat and fire. Power and strength. He filled her. Sustained her.

Riley used her own tongue to try to seal that thin line, unwilling for Mitro to catch the scent of powerful Carpathian blood. Thank you. That helps.

He helped. The way he held her. The way he believed in her enough to let her try to heal the earth when everything male in him insisted he protect her no matter the cost. She was in his mind, she knew how difficult it was for him to allow her to be in such danger.

Riley plunged her hands into the soil once more. She could feel the heart beating in the soil again where before there was a deathly silence, like a withered organ a vampire might have. Now, the soil teemed with life. Insects burrowed deep. The roots were quiet now, settled, hundreds of feet deep, woven so tightly together nothing could possibly slip through a crack, not even mist.

She turned her attention to the vines surrounding the wall. This would be much trickier. The first weave had to be subtle, so subtle that it would not draw the attention of Pietra, but would still set in motion the building of thick impenetrable walls around the room the moment Mitro stepped in.

Dax dropped his head on her shoulder. Her heart jumped. Deep in her veins, that terrible throb beat harder. The temperature in the room dropped so that every breath released was a steady stream of white. The leaves on the vines recoiled. Rats climbed along the few supporting beams overhead.

In the midst of so many hearts pounding came the sound of another, stronger, the rhythm different. The beat boomed loud and then softened, only to swell in volume again. The drumming beat pounded at Dax, beat at Riley. Their hearts jumped, almost in recognition. The throb deep in Riley's veins pulsed rapidly.

A hush of anticipation swept through the room. Tension mounted. The crowd swayed back and forth, a mass hysteria, worshipping, eyes opaque. Pietra climbed up on the dais, her face glowing. She looked out over the crowd, arms wide, presenting her offering to her master.

Dax and Riordan closed ranks in front of Riley, making certain there was a group of worshippers in front of them. The music changed, the notes a heralding of evil. Lights flashed on and off, a strobe adding to the hypnotic effect Mitro had on his followers. Mist moved through the crowd, a dense stream of foul air, weaving through the swaying group.

Gasps. Faint cries. The scent of blood rose in the air. Red droplets splattered into the crowd. As the mist trailed through, a hand with long, sharp talons emerged from the vapor and sliced into flesh. Breasts. Chests. Necks. Throats. Most were shallow cuts, but a few unlucky ones had deep cuts. One had arterial spray but didn't seem to notice as he leapt up and down and spun with the others in a frenzy of worship.

Each time the hand materialized from that cold gray cloud, Mitro's congregation went wild. The mist continued its slow procession through the crowd until it was at the dais. The vapor stacked dramatically in the shape of a man, but when it wavered, and went transparent, there were rats piled upon one another forming that man. As they dropped away, unable to hold position, Mitro emerged.

Hands outstretched, wearing a black, hooded robe lined in crimson, he opened his arms to the worshippers. Their yells shook the building. Hands caught at the man with the torn throat, shoving him forward, many dipping their hands in the blood and painting themselves with it. The boy stumbled to the platform, gazing up at Mitro in awe and terror. He made no attempt to cover his torn flesh.

Mitro pointed to the floor of the dais. The boy crawled up onto it. He scuttled across the floor on all fours, groveling, reaching Mitro and wrapping his arms around the vampire's leg. Horrible gurgling sounds came from his torn throat as he begged and exposed the wound to the undead.

The crowd went wild. "Eat! Eat! Eat!" The chant swelled in volume.

Mitro reached down and caught his victim by his hair, dragging him to his feet. The boy had blood running down his neck, into his shirt and dripping on the floor now. Mitro jerked his head back hard, exposing the deep wound.

A cheer went up and the chant grew louder. "Eat! Eat! Eat!"

Mitro opened his mouth wide, exposing his fangs, those blackened, sharp points, pausing for dramatic effect, waiting for his followers to roar again before he sank his teeth deep into the wound.

Mitro would be consumed with the blood thrall, gulping and tearing messily, showing off, feeding on the terror of his victim as the boy became aware he would not be vampire, but was truly fodder for a predator.

Now, Dax ordered.

All three acted simultaneously. Dax rose to the ceiling, positioning himself above Mitro, his scales sliding up and over his body for protection while the red-gold scale dust rained down on the vampire. The dust settled over the vampire like a sticky silken net, holding him in, acting like a glue, so there would be no chance of shapeshifting.

Riley plunged her hands into the soil and gave her command to the vines. The vines instantly complied, weaving tight braids back and forth, up and down, floor to ceiling, closing off every entrance and every inch of dirt that could possibly be used to slip through.

Riordan slammed a bolt over the heads of the crowd, forcing them all to the floor, where they lay dazed, unable to move. He had to trust Dax to kill the undead while he controlled the puppets.

Pietra fell half on, half off the dais, upside down, arms outstretched toward Mitro. The vampire flung the dying boy from him. The body hit the wall of vines and fell to the floor. Mitro drew back his thin lips to snarl a challenge. Fresh blood smeared his chin and dripped from his fangs. His head slowly swiveled from side to side, a cold reptilian motion that made Riley shudder.

Mitro opened his arms. "Welcome, Danutdaxton. Meet my chosen ones. They are always hungry. Rise! Rise, my army, it is your time. Feast on these intruders. Their blood will bring you into my world. You will be powerful and immortal. Eat! Feast! Rise now!"

He's given them his blood. He truly has created an army, Dax warned.

A collective growl rose as the followers of the undead struggled to rise at his command. With Mitro's blood burning and scarring, prodding so many on, Riordan dropped back to protect Riley. Several of the strongest managed to get to their feet and stumble toward him, eyes burning with the need to kill.

Riley fought down panic, plunging her hands into the soil in order to communicate with the vines. She might not be a warrior, capable of helping Riordan with the rabid followers of a vile vampire, but she could at least enlist the plants to help where they could. The vines snaked out along the floor, reaching for the ankles and legs of those struggling to reach Riordan.

In the ensuing chaos, Mitro tried to shift, just as Dax had known he would. The sticky scale dust clung to his cells, refusing to allow him to change to another form. In a fit of rage, he kicked Pietra off the dais and then rocketed into the walls and hit the woven vines so thick they were impossible to penetrate.

He whirled around just as Dax dropped on him from above, his heavy body driving him to the ground. Mitro stabbed at the hunter's eyes, even as he rolled, burrowing into the ground to get away. That escape was closed to him as well, the roots too thick to allow passage. Rolling over and over into the crowd, he slashed and tore at Dax, trying desperately to get through the scales to the flesh and blood.

He opened his mouth and expelled a noxious gas cloud along with death beetles, directly into Dax's face. Dax countered with a blast of fire, incinerating the bugs and lighting the gas cloud. The explosion rocked the ground and building above. The walls expanded and contracted trying to contain the blast. Mitro shrieked in rage and pain as a wall of fire raced over him, blanketing both Dax and the vampire as well as the human puppets closest to them.

Pietra, her clothes on fire, scuttled across the floor like a crab, shrieking, raising a ceremonial knife high and stabbing down repeatedly at Dax's exposed back as he straddled Mitro. Flames rose around all three. Pietra's arm rose and fell one last time and then she crumpled to the floor, rolling, spreading the flames everywhere. The dark sliver of Mitro burst from her body, seeking another host. It shot across the distance back to Mitro, sealing itself to him, adding to his strength.

Dax shut out the sounds of Riordan's battle, his fear for Riley and the smell of burning flesh. He barely felt the flames. He was a fire dragon. He barely felt Mitro tearing at him. He was a Carpathian hunter with one purpose. To destroy evil. He listened to the strange rhythm of the offbeat heart. Mitro had created the heart for the water dragon. The fire dragon's remains had been smashed open.

Call to your heart. Dax was certain he was correct.

The Old One's heart had been left behind in the volcano. Even as he instructed the dragon, he realized, he and the dragon had slowly merged. He used his own heart, just as with the water dragon, strengthening the beat, drawing the other to him.

Mitro shrieked his fury and clawed and spit acid, trying to stop Dax's diamond-hard nails from slicing through his chest. This time, Dax followed the sound, low and to the left. Mitro grew frantic. He sliced at Dax's throat, and tried gulping the ancient blood. Dax concentrated on burrowing deeper into the rotten carcass. Around him Riordan battled the undead's army, keeping them off of the hunter. Around him the flames leapt higher, but Dax was of a single-minded purpose.

His fist closed around the hard gem. He dragged it from the body, opened his hand flat and thrust it into the flames to bathe it in fire. Mitro sprang toward the heart, his hand outstretched. Dax opened his own chest and thrust the brilliant gem inside. The moment his body swallowed the dragon's heart, he closed the wound and watched Mitro.

The vampire's mouth stretched wide in protest. No sound emerged. Insects poured out, maggots fell around him, the flames instantly incinerating them. Mitro shook his head, unable to believe he'd been defeated. He turned his head toward Riley, hatred in his eyes. He lifted his hand, bent on revenge. The fire engulfed him entirely. Without the fire dragon's heart, with no heart of his own, his body rotted, going up in flames.

Dax stepped back away from the noxious-smelling remains. Riordan caught up Riley and they took to the air, rising toward the ceiling as the flames spread throughout the room. Riley coughed and choked, reaching for Dax. He was covered in blood, but she didn't care, wrapping her arms around him, grateful he was alive. He looked tired, the lines in his face etched deep. Beneath them, Mitro's worshippers had succumbed to smoke and flame without their master's blood to sustain them.

Dax and Riordan exited through the ceiling, leaving nothing but ashes behind. "Mitro had been searching for centuries in volcanos," Dax told Riordan and Riley. "Somewhere he must have acquired the knowledge that when dragons die, their hearts remain behind and become petrified. They turn to gemstones. The heart kept him alive until I restored it to its rightful owner."

"I want to go home," Riley said. "Take me home, Dax."