Combing his fingers against his scalp, he circled the room like a caged beast, looking for something. There on the rough-shod rug covering the ground, a single spot of crimson. Kneeling, he dabbed his finger to it and sniffed deep.
It was Gavril. He’d shed enough blood with the man over the years to know his scent. So he hadn’t been killed on watch, then dragged off and shoved in a ravine so that the king’s men could bypass him into camp. Of course not. The king.
“Fucking hell!” he roared.
He spun back outside and crossed paths with Sienna and her party with Katya. He didn’t stop when Katya called out, flashing back to his tent. By the time he’d tossed off his cloak and thrown open the chest of weapons, arming himself with razor-sharp, double-edged blades in every sheath and scabbard he could carry, filling the dozens of slits along his crisscrossing harness with finger blades, Dmitri was at his side in a rush of violent wind.
“How did it happen?”
Shouts echoed across the encampment as word spread.
He didn’t recognize his own voice, the malevolent timbre growling out of his throat like a cornered animal. “Dominik, the fucking butcher king, bit Gavril and injected his elixir into his body, then commanded he abduct Mina.”
It was the perfect plan. They’d scent a stranger among the encampment, but no one would stop Gavril, one of his Elite, from going into the queen’s tent.
He’d seen what the king’s power of persuasion could do even after the elixir had worn off. He and Friedrich had interrogated one of his bitten minions back at Winter Hill. The rogue vampire fell unconscious and died after disobeying a command of the king’s by giving them information. Gavril had been freshly bitten. He hadn’t stood a chance.
“What are you going to do?”
Mikhail cut a glare at him. “What do you think I’m going to fucking do? Get her back.”
He unbuckled his belt and slipped on two more scabbards in addition to the one already there. He’d have serrated daggers to rip sinew and bone on both hips and one at his back.
“You’re not going alone.” Dmitri stood in his path before he could make it back to the weapons chest. “You’ll be killed.”
Nikolai entered with Sienna, Dane, and Riker behind. Then Katya.
“Do you think my life matters more than hers, Brother?”
Ice poured from every word. He’d lost his ability to reason like the captain he was. Only one driving force moved his feet and pumped blood to his heart at this moment. Mina.
“I’m just saying we need a plan. If you’d stop long enough to think, we could form one.”
“We’re going with you,” said Nikolai.
Friedrich entered with Grant.
“Is it true?” asked Friedrich.
Seeing Friedrich was the only thing that made him pause. His wife had been under the power of that cruel bastard. Brenna had felt the cold icy fingers of his dominance in her veins, pulling her strings like a puppet. She’d felt his violent will when he slit her throat with his own claw right before Friedrich’s eyes, powerless to stop him.
“Yes.” He glanced away, unable to see the horror in his eyes any longer. What Brenna had experienced might very well be Mina’s fate, under the thrall of that evil bastard.
A gaping hole opened up inside of him. A chasm filling with the darkest kind of dread. The king wouldn’t kill her. He knew that. They needed her alive to fulfill Queen Morgrid’s plan to perform the black magic rite to blight the world in darkness. However, fulfilling that plan would also require the king to impregnate Mina so Morgrid could sacrifice the newborn pure-blood Varis at the hour of its birth. The thought made his vision blur, spots in his peripheral vision.
King Dominik may not kill her, but he was the one man in this world who could do so much worse. Mikhail had heard the horrors of his brutality.
Black thoughts flooded his frame, thinking of Mina in the control of such a monster. He shook it off, unwilling to allow his mind to spin out of control. Guilt of his own negligence threatened to make him insane. While he should’ve sensed that this storm was wrong in a supernatural way, he’d been too distracted by his emotions and need for Mina. The very reason he’d called for the Bloodguard vow to forsake love or marriage had been why he’d failed her. Why she was now in the ruthless hands of the butcher king.
Focus. Stay sharp. Cool thoughts. Deft hands.
He lifted the double-bladed sword, custom-crafted and forged by a friend in Korinth. The hilt at the center, made of black oak from Silvane Forest, was smoothed and honed to perfectly fit his fist. The black-iron blades—razor-sharp on one side, serrated on the other, curving in opposite directions—extended three feet from point to point. The edges of both blades sparkled with gold. Gripping hard, he bent his wrist, cutting the wind on one side then the other. Perfectly balanced. The supreme weapon for decapitating one’s victims. And he had only one victim in mind at the moment.
“Mikhail!”
His eyes snapped up, everyone staring at him. He’d been in his own trance.
“Did you hear me?” Dmitri stood close, fear and frustration on his face.
“Aye, Dmitri.” Though he hadn’t heard a word. “Fetch Gregoravich quickly. And alert my Elite.”
Dmitri disappeared out the tent flap, a gust of glacial wind blowing in. Mikhail’s Elite were his most highly skilled assassins. He slid a sheath onto one blade of the sword and a second on the other blade, then buckled it to the harness crossing his chest. Lifting his cloak, he hooked it at the neck and swept the room with an assessing gaze.
“Nikolai, your party is welcome to follow, but I’m not slowing down for anything.” He glanced at Sienna. “Or anyone.”
Nikolai nodded. “We’ll keep up.”
Dane stepped forward, the mountainous hart wolf in human form sparking the dimly lit tent with his amber-gold eyes. “I’ll carry Sienna.” He shivered as if the need to shift was on him now. “We’ll be close behind.”
Nikolai nodded agreement. Mikhail had heard Sienna complain often enough of the nausea she experienced traveling at vampire speed in Nikolai’s arms. Riding on Dane’s back while he’s a hart wolf would be infinitely faster than on horseback, but not at the dizzying pace of vampire speed.
Dmitri reentered with Gregoravich behind him, standing next to Dane, almost as tall with the same beefy build.
“Gregory, I’ll need you in lead for tracking.”
He was a memory reader, born with the vampire gift where he could recapture memories of people by touching places they’d been.
“Yes, Captain,” answered Gregory, scowling.
There was no time to discuss Gavril and his forced betrayal or where he was now, but the tension rolling off Gregoravich, who was a close friend, told him enough. The man wanted answers as much as he did.
“Dmitri, I need you to report to Prince Marius and Arabelle what has happened. Assemble the army and get them moving toward Izeling. You’re the fastest, so don’t argue with me.”
Dmitri closed his mouth, since he apparently was about to do just that.