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torture—and they were torturing him. Skyler set her mind on one thing only—staying with Dimitri, following that faint trail back to him.
    The path was broken, fading away, very faint, but she could follow it, those psychic footprints she was so familiar with. Pain ripped through her until every nerve ending was inflamed and burning. She had to turn her head to vomit, the pain excruciating.
    She tugged at her hands, silently telling Josef she was under control and to let go. The moment he did, she pushed her fingers into the soil. That act alone gave her more strength. More determined than ever, Skyler reached again for the fading trail leading back to Dimitri.
    She saw the way in colors as she always did, long silver streaks like a comet, only this time those streaks were edged bloodred. Dimitri had once told her he knew of no one else who could see a psychic trail in the same way she did. Bitter cold slipped into her mind. Her body continually shook. She drew on Josef, all that wonderful strong psychic energy he possessed and so freely and generously gave to her.
    Csitri. Little one. You cannot be here .
    She nearly sobbed. Tears collected in her throat until the lump threatened to choke her. His beloved voice was ravaged and raw.
    There is no other place for me. There is only you. Be still and let me examine you. She found it more of an effort to speak to him; the pain, so close to him, was overwhelming.
    I don’t want this for you.
    She knew that already. He would protect her from any hurt if he could. The biggest threat to her would be to lose him—and that was not going to happen. She took a deep breath, her fists curled tightly in the soil as an anchor, and she sent her spirit into his ravaged body.
    Dimitri was being attacked from so many directions it was difficult to find a starting point. Long thin streaks of silver inched through his body like deadly worms, tracer bullets, she thought at first. Had he been shot numerous times with silver bullets? She followed the path of one of those lines back to the source.
    Her heart stuttered in her chest. For the first time she faltered. Hooks. He had hooks of silver in his body, great terrible claws shooting out their deadly poison into his system. The silver inched its way through his veins and muscle, spread along his bones, threading its way to every organ, always seeking his heart. The slow spread of silver throughout his body was deadly to the Lycan in his blood.
    She chose the line closest to his heart. The silver seemed to be liquid, tiny beads of it stretching through his body. Very small, the threads appearing as veins. She experimented with bringing her spirit close to the end of it. The silver trail flinched back. She didn’t dare melt it because it could run through his body even faster. There were so many hooks. The problem seemed impossible.
    She pushed aside anxiety and near panic as the emotions rose so sharp and ugly. She was thinking as a Carpathian, but what of that other side of her? Razvan was her father, and he had mage blood. His father was the most powerful mage ever known. Surely she had mage blood as well. That was the very reason her grandfather had rejected her and sold her to another man. He believed she didn’t have the Carpathian blood he needed to be immortal. It was possible she could use that other side, often ignored because she didn’t want to remember it was part of her heritage.
Tiny silver threads, so deadly and bright,
I call upon the earth to steal your might,
As you were created, I shall undo.
I call on your makers and take on your hue.
    Skyler moved forward, closer to the silver threads, concentrating on the end as she stretched her spirit, extending her white light to touch the fine end.
That which was created shall now become mine,
Chlorine, sulfur, antimony and arsenic I bind.
Chlorine that holds the color of green and gold,
I take on your energy and now so do I hold.
    She called on the things of the earth. She was a