Behind her Elke hissed out a breath. “Damn, girl."

"It takes strength to plow a stake through a man,” Cyn murmured, then glanced at the vamp out of the corner of her eye. “Or a woman. The steel gives me an opening.” She almost chuckled at her own inadvertent pun.

"You really think you can keep up with the big boys?"

Cynthia turned around, but didn't look at Elke, focusing instead on buckling on the belt and checking the slide of each of the stakes. “No,” she said. “I know I can't.” She looked up then and met the other woman's stare. “But I can hold my own."

Elke gave her a grudging nod. “Maybe you can."

"Do be careful to distinguish friend from foe.” Duncan's voice came out of the shadows seconds before he emerged himself.

Cyn gave him a mocking smile. “Worried, Duncan?"

"Always, Ms. Leighton,” he said solemnly. “We are about to depart."

She closed the hatch and walked over to him. “How close does Raphael have to get to the guard?"

"Not close at all."

"So we have the big guy work his magic, and we see what happens. Whatever it is, it'll be the sign for the other vamps to move, so—"

"This part I understand, Ms. Leighton. Probably better than you do."

"Hey, no contest here. You guys go ahead and do your thing, I'll do mine."

"And what's that?"

"What I was hired to do. I'm going to find Alexandra."

* * * *

By the time they joined the rest of the group, there was so much anticipation in the air the vamps were all but bouncing up and down with it. When Raphael nodded to Duncan, the whole pack of them took off like a shot, fading into the darkness and leaving only a slight breeze to stir the leaves in their wake. Cyn stood by the cars, her eyes searching the night and finding nothing. She sighed thinking about her own long climb up the hill, when some instinct made her stiffen and turn sharply. Raphael stood behind her, silver flashing from beneath half-closed eyelids. Before she could take two steps away, he was on her, one powerful hand reaching out to grasp her jacket, lifting her against the cool metal of the big SUV as his mouth came down on hers in a hard, fierce kiss.

Cyn couldn't help responding, but she made it anger as well as passion, smashing her mouth against his and biting as much as kissing. When he pulled away, their blood mingled on her lips, and he leaned forward, licking it off with one lazy swipe of his tongue. He pushed himself against her, letting her feel his body's response to her closeness. “Never doubt that I want you, my Cyn,” he said harshly.

She sucked in air, fighting the ache crushing her heart, choking away her breath. “Put me down,” she whispered.

He eased her down slowly, but didn't back away by even an inch. She could still feel the press of his body, the tension in his muscles, the firm shaft of his erection. “You don't want me,” she said breathlessly. “You just want to fuck me."

She put both hands on his chest and pushed, knowing it was useless unless he chose to let her go. He freed her and she walked away without looking back.

Chapter Forty-six

She stood once again on the hillside overlooking the compound, concealed in the shadows beneath the eucalyptus trees. Duncan stood next to her, Raphael slightly ahead. The other vampires had vanished into the night, presumably deploying around the other house, carrying out whatever plan Duncan had devised. At some invisible signal, Raphael shifted his concentration to the lone gate guard below. It was not a human guard this time, not the Judge Judy fan from the afternoon, but a thick-bodied vampire. Cyn couldn't see well enough to be sure, but she thought it might even be Tommy from the other night at the ranch house. She felt kind of sorry about that. Tommy hadn't been a bad guy, really. Or maybe her perception was skewed by the comparison to Albin.

She heard a rattle as the big gate began to move, drawing her attention back to the present. The guard stood motionless until the gate was fully opened, then he walked on through and down the driveway toward the house. Cyn had expected his movement to be robot-like, mechanical, like in the movies when someone was forced to do something against his will. But Raphael's control was such that the guard walked normally, almost carefree, as if he was just taking a stroll. She glanced at Raphael, but could see only that model-perfect profile. His gaze was riveted below.

The guard climbed the few steps to the double front doors and reached for the handles. He pushed them open, throwing both doors wide and making a grand entrance, exactly as Raphael would no doubt have done. Cyn flinched automatically, but nothing happened. The house was completely dark as the guard disappeared inside. She had a moment of doubt, but only a moment ... before the house exploded in a fury of light and sound, shaking the ground beneath her feet and filling the dark sky with brilliant color. Car alarms began going off up and down the street and debris rained down in a wide circle. Lights flashed on all over the neighborhood as people ran out of their houses to find out what the noise was.

Cyn swallowed hard. “Would that have killed him?” she asked Duncan quietly.

"Yes, it would have,” he replied somberly.

Raphael said nothing, only stared down at the inferno.

"That will attract a lot of attention really fast,” she said.

"It will,” Duncan agreed. “But we can use that."

She turned to leave and heard Raphael say, “Duncan."

The vampire lieutenant stopped her with a touch on her arm. “Elke will meet you below. Do not go in without her."

She glared at him, but he anticipated her protest.

"We do not doubt your skill, Ms. Leighton. But these are vampires we face. Even Alexandra, as delicate she may appear, is Vampire and this will have been difficult for her. If they were kind, she may be nothing more than exhausted. But if not, it could be much worse. Take Elke with you and be careful."

Cynthia grinned in the orange glow of the fire. She had no intention of hanging onto Elke's coattails, but she did appreciate the thought. “Thanks, Duncan. See you when it's over."

She gave Raphael's stone figure a final glance, then shrugged and headed off into the darkness. She had a job to do.

Chapter Forty-seven

Raphael heard Cyn leave, but his focus was on the movement all around him as he ordered his vampires into battle. Duncan joined him and the two of them slipped away beneath the trees, moving faster than thought. No leaves rustled in their passing, no small animals scurried in the underbrush. The two vampires were shadows in the night, forgotten before they were gone.

They emerged before the heavy metal gate of Pushkin's true compound, Raphael striding boldly from beneath the thick trees to stand gazing up at the old house. He closed his eyes, feeling the heart of every vampire that beat within, reaching out with his tremendous strength to touch each and every one of them with dread, with the certain knowledge of impending death. Howls sounded in the night as weaker souls among them cowered in fear, their terror of Raphael far exceeding the flimsy power at Pushkin's command. Raphael's own vampires roared in response, rattling the stones of the very walls before him with their rage. He raised his arms, feeling the power build within him, feeding on the life force of his foes, weakening them even as he grew stronger and prepared to attack.

"Pushkin!" It was thought more than word, a challenge sent into the mind of every vampire present. He felt Pushkin respond, a combination of terror and denial, knowledge that his plan had failed and vengeance stood at his very gates.

Raphael exerted his will and those gates were torn asunder. His vampires poured into the compound, and guttural shouts filled the night, battle roars punctuated by the death cries of creatures who'd thought themselves immortal. There were no neutral parties here tonight; Raphael could afford to spare no one who had joined in challenging him. He plunged into the fray, heedless of any danger, his power surrounding him, brushing aside attacks without conscious will, his mind focused solely on the one who had dared oppose him, who had broken his oath of fealty and would now pay with his eternal damnation. He laughed in exultation as he came upon the house, the rush of his full power better than any human drug, the joy of its unfettered release expanding his heart with every beat, gorging his lungs with every breath. He could feel Pushkin huddled inside, too fearful to join his forces in battle, weakening them by his own cowardice.

Raphael flowed through the door, following the stink of the other vampire's fear as he pounded up stairs and strode unerringly down halls, brushing aside the flimsy illusions that were all Pushkin offered in defense. The final door fell before him, revealing his enemy crouched fearfully within his stronghold, a young woman dead at his feet, her blood still running from the coward's chin, a last ditch attempt to buy strength enough to survive. Raphael regarded him with disdain.

"You thought to buy your freedom with such a meager life, Pushkin?"

The Russian vampire snarled like a trapped animal, pushing himself deeper into the corner, all semblance of human appearance gone, leaving only the beast within.

"You have forsaken your long life, old friend, but you may buy an ounce of mercy from me yet. Where is she?"

Pushkin's eyes widened and he began to laugh, his mouth gaping open like a fool. He stopped suddenly, madness in his eyes. “She is dead by now, my lord,” he said in a sly voice. His eyes cleared for a moment and he looked down at his bloody clothes, frowning without comprehension. When he looked up, he stared at Raphael as if wondering why he was there, before the madness took him once again. “Albin has killed her by now, her and your new lover. She escaped me the other night, but no longer. So sad, Raphael. Nothing left for you."

Raphael knew it wasn't true and still he howled with rage, his power throwing Pushkin down and crushing him to the floor as the traitorous vampire squealed in pain and terror. His limbs strained outward until his joints snapped with audible cracks of bone, and blood gushed from his body. Raphael drove a huge fist into Pushkin's chest and crushed his beating heart, holding the rebel's terrified gaze as, with a small exertion of his will, the heart burst into impossible flame. Pushkin screamed in agony as his body followed, incinerating from within, the fire spreading until nothing was left of the famed Pushkin but a pile of greasy ash.