Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 118860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
I intend to get information from the master vampire. It’s imperative to understand why he chose to use our likenesses when they confronted us.
Truthfully, the eagerness for battle was on him, just as it was on Kinta. Not just eagerness, it was a need—an actual need. Just feeling that emotion, having a need versus his duty, was nearly euphoric. He felt emotion when he fought his enemies. It mattered little what he felt, just that he could. That he did.
His brothers were like him. They slipped in and out of one another’s minds without thinking about it; they’d been doing it for centuries. That ensured they shared all information. He liked that they all had different points of view. That meant more knowledge and more ways to think about everything from battles to conservation.
Tomas appeared to be walking on the ground, but in fact, he was gliding above it, an easy trick he’d used a thousand times over the centuries. Nearly every vampire had fallen for it, even master vampires, who had been around nearly as many years as he had. Each footstep appeared to sink into the thick vegetation on the forest floor. There was the rustle of leaves and even a slight echo through the ground, a deliberate attempt to lure any creature, or the master vampire himself, into attacking.
He appeared confused as he looked around him, as if he thought the vampire was close but had no real direction for him. Sometimes the same battle played out hundreds of times. Having lived so long, Tomas had seen it all.
Just as he knew would happen, the ground around him erupted into many small geysers as thorny vines burst through the forest floor, all reaching for him like six aggressive snakes. Each attempted to wrap around his arms and legs to prevent movement. Simultaneously, the vampire erupted from the ground directly in front of Tomas, his fist punching forward toward Tomas’ chest.
Tomas dissolved into thousands of molecules, streaking behind the undead so he appeared to vanish. The master vampire turned in a circle, muttering spells, his hands in the air as he did so. Tomas recognized the ancient spell compelling the vampire’s enemies to show themselves. The vampire wasn’t especially strong at compulsion toward a hunter, but Tomas felt a slight tug.
He materialized in front of the creature, with only a small distance between them. He nodded his head. “Gustov, I am rarely surprised by anything, but I hadn’t heard you had chosen the way of the undead. You were always strong.” He allowed a tinge of admiration to creep into his voice, admiration and questioning shock.
He had perfected the art of speaking to the undead over the centuries, knowing the right tones to use, the right things to say to flatter and put them at ease. Going into battle with one of them felt as if it were a part he’d stepped into and knew the role so well he never had to think about what to say or do any longer. That was dangerous, and he recognized it as such. There was no room for complacency even when hunting and slaying a newly turned vampire.
The master vampire regarded him without moving, his red-rimmed eyes flickering with malice and hatred. He appeared quite handsome, his clothes tailored to his fit physique and his dark hair slicked back. Unlike those impersonating the ancients, his hair looked real. Tomas was aware that if a woman saw him, she might very well find him attractive.
“Tomas?” A flicker of apprehension showed on his smooth features and was gone quickly. “I heard you and your brothers were far from here.”
“You obviously heard wrong.” That simple statement revealed the vampires were keeping track of him and his brothers. Because the vampires attempted to use the other ancients’ faces and hair, did that mean they were watching them as well? Worse, sharing information with one another? It was imperative he find out.
“Your informant was clearly wrong, old friend.” He spoke as if they were friends; in the old days, growing up, Gustov had followed him everywhere. He was a few years younger, but those years didn’t count once both hit fifty. Over the years, Gustov had been a formidable vampire hunter. He had lived far beyond the expectation of a hunter. He had lived with honor.
Fleetingly, Tomas wondered what had happened inside the Carpathian’s mind, his heart, which switch flipped to allow him to give up his code and become the very thing he’d hunted for centuries. He had to let that go for the moment. Gustov had always been extremely intelligent and skilled in a fight. It mattered little how much experience he had in battles with vampires if he wasn’t paying attention. Master vampires were always up to something.
“Do you have an enemy who wishes you gone?” Tomas sounded solicitous, worried for his old friend.