The two servants of the undead flew toward the forest where Elisabeta had entered. She immediately shifted, just out of sight, rising to the branches, a small female owl, while a young woman in a flowing cape seemed to be running into deeper forest, away from the meadow. She was barefoot, and her dark hair tangled on brush, slowing her down so that the servants caught glimpses of her, just enough to keep them following.
Ferro found himself smiling. That was a good point. Sergey couldn’t dispute that. Elisabeta was very clever.
Elisabeta allowed her first real, although tentative, excitement to spill into her mind, that Sergey might really be coming for her. Deliberately the leaves rustled by the entrance and she froze.
Sergey’s servants following the elusive shadow of Elisabeta were being tracked by Carpathian hunters. The moment Ferro gave the word, they would be taken down.
Appearing almost small in her cape, although she was tall, like all Carpathian women, Elisabeta looked all around her before she stepped from the shadow of the forest and set foot into the meadow, allowing Sergey to weave the safeguards behind her to lock her there with him.
He beckoned to her impatiently with one long finger. At the end was a wicked-looking nail. “Come to me now, Elisabeta.” He snapped his fingers. “We have to leave this place.”
Ferro shifted as he approached within a few feet of Sergey. Ferro’s appearance revealed the wicked wounds from his battle with Ambrus. His clothes were torn and showed bloodstains.
“I see she called you. She fears a new life, but she will get used to it in time.”
“What have you done with her?” Sergey demanded.
Elisabeta let out a small moan and presented an image of rocking herself back and forth, of being very small, curling into herself as if terrified. Ferro glided a little closer, covering the smallest of limps, one arm tight against his ribs.
Sergey flung up his hand, weaving replicas of himself and sending them spinning in a wide circle around Ferro. The ground shifted and rolled, sending the Carpathian tumbling to his knees. Above their heads, within the safeguards, thunder roared and the swirling black clouds opened up to dump acid rain on them. Sergey moved in fast to kick at Ferro’s chin, determined to knock him on his back so he could more easily extract the heart. He also wanted as much of the Carpathian male’s body exposed to the painful acid as possible.
Ferro caught his ankle, twisted and took him down with his enormous strength, caught the stake Sandu threw to him and slammed it straight through Sergey’s heart, pinning him to the consecrated spot in the meadow. Smoke rose as the vampire’s skin burned. He screamed horribly. Ferro waved his hand to stop the rain.
The grasses disappeared as if they’d never been to reveal the wide expanse of bare dirt, all of which had been sanctified. Ringing the entire prepared circle were the ancients, waiting, all eyes on the writhing, fighting master vampire as Ferro held him down with the sacrosanct wooden stake. He had to use both hands. Black blood bubbled up around the wood. Benedek held the legs of the vampire as Sergey kicked and drummed his heels into the dirt.
