Dark Wolf

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Dark Wolf Page 8

by Christine Feehan


  Paul shook his head. "I was your wingman at the last little party we went to together, and I'm pretty sure you struck out once you began talking." He winked at Skyler. "They all thought he was pretty cute until he opened his mouth and began spouting some kind of number theory."

  "Oh, Josef," Skyler said, covering her smile with one hand. "You didn't really, did you?"

  Josef took the empty mug from her hand, glaring at Paul. "The girl was beautiful, you know, not all skinny and blond and cloned like most of them. I mean she had a real figure and her hair was dark and shiny and when she smiled, my heart sort of exploded and took my brain with it. When I short-circuit, I fall back on the numbers in my head."

  "He sees in numbers," Paul said. "Can you believe that?"

  Josef thrust another mug into her hand. She recognized the aroma of vegetable soup. Her stomach knotted even more. She closed her eyes, wanting to get it over with. Whether the food stayed down or not was another matter. She knew, before she slept, Josef would give her more of his healing blood. She couldn't be converted without a true blood exchange, but that didn't mean she wouldn't feel the effects.

  When she opened her eyes, she was grateful that not only the soup was gone, but the mug as well. Paul handed her the water bottle again while she concentrated on keeping the food in her stomach.

  "Josef is amazing," she said, meaning it. "So are you, Paul. I couldn't be any luckier. Thank you both for coming with me."

  "Don't go getting all girly on us," Josef reprimanded. "The next thing you know, we'll be sitting around the fire sobbing and some Lycan will catch us and figure it would be best to put us out of our misery."

  "Fine, open a patch of earth for me--take it down to where the soil is rich with minerals."

  Josef looked around the forest floor. "Anywhere should be good. This is ancient land and has been regenerating for thousands of years."

  He peeled back the vegetation and topsoil to expose the richness hidden beneath. Paul lifted Skyler again and gently deposited her in the two-foot-deep opening. Skyler handed him back the water bottle and turned her attention completely to the soil.

  She lay back, uncaring that the dirt would get into her hair. Josef could take care of that easily. All that mattered was her connection to Mother Earth.

  Great Mother Earth, who gave us all birth,

  Hear my call.

  Help me, great one, show me the path that I must walk,

  I place myself in your arms, hear the beat of my heart,

  Hear my call.

  Sounds came first. The deep booming beat of a drum. Steady. Coming from the earth's very core and spreading throughout the land to give life to the plants and trees, all the flora and fauna. The trickle of water came next, so soft at first, but when she listened, the sound was powerful, the flow of earth's blood reaching out like arteries and veins to nourish.

  Great one, I am of your making,

  I ask for your healing balm,

  I have need of you and your gifts,

  My body is worn and tired.

  She had never felt so stretched thin, afraid if she asked Paul and Josef they would tell her they could see where she was frayed, or holes torn in her very skin. Without Josef's blood, she knew she would never have the strength to help free Dimitri from such a terrible weapon.

  Help me, Mother, bring forth your healing energies to give me strength.

  My need is great. Hear me. See me. Be of me. Wrap me in the warmth of your arms.

  Rich soil poured around her body, over it, a thin layer, but almost up to her neck. She should have felt claustrophobic, but instead, she felt warm and safe. As if from a great distance, she heard a gasp from Paul, but her mind was connected to the steady drumming beat of the earth's heart. Her own heart matched that strong rhythm. She felt the new growth, long twisting vines, pushing out of the soil beneath and beside her to wind around her body, a cover of forest green.

  Skyler felt as if she was in the very cradle of life, held by loving arms. Small hairs from the roots reaching toward her brushed along her legs and arms. Little shoots of greenery reached for her, to snuggle in close to her body, beginning to weave together into a thin, fine blanket over her body.

  I need you, great one, my soul mate burns,

  He is hung on hooks, their tips delivering silver poison into his body,

  Threads of silver burn their way toward his heart.

  His life runs out through my fingers like fine grains of sand.

  Hear me, great one, bring forth your healing energies,

  Give me your strength, heed my call, heal me, Mother.

  Already she could feel strength flowing back into her. The small cracks she felt fragmenting her mind slowly closed and the continuous pounding in her head faded away. Her legs and arms felt stronger than ever. The chaos in her mind stilled, and she found herself calm and determined.

  Tell me, great one,

  Those of the Lycan breed were born of this place,

  What was their making?

  How can they be subdued?

  Show me their path,

  Reveal to me their weaknesses,

  Show me the way to diminish them.

  Give me the power to release their hold.

  She had to feel the Lycans when they came near. They were pack hunters and gave off little or no energy. They were somehow able to contain it, so that even the Carpathians couldn't feel their presence before an attack. She would need to know where every single wolf was, why they were there and what their plan of action would be.

  Mother Earth had seen it all played out on her surface. Centuries had gone by and the Lycan species had taken on the mantle of civilization, but like the Carpathians, they were predators first. They were wolves. They hunted in packs, rather than as single hunters like the Carpathians. Packs generally had an alpha pair and they used the tried and true attacks that had worked for centuries.

  They had evolved, strong, fast, very lethal, and they were smart. They had integrated into human society, looking civilized, but deep under their skin, they were always Lycan. They still hunted the same way they had been successful so long ago.

  Skyler absorbed the information stamped into the very ground by the Lycans who had used this forest for so many years. She took her time, grateful to be a daughter of the earth, grateful the offering was so detailed. It was important to learn about Lycans as pack hunters in order to figure out the best way to elude--or defeat them.

  When she was certain she knew how the inner workings of the pack were managed, she gave thanks and then asked for help with Dimitri. His weakness beat at her. His hunger. He was starved, and no Carpathian could go days or weeks without going to ground.

  Great Mother, my beloved is of your making,

  He is your own son, a son of Mother Earth.

  You have judged him, you know him. You know his worth.

  Spare him, Mother,

  Bring forth your healing power,

  Aid me in his healing,

  Use me, bring forth your power through me.

  Skyler hadn't realized how truly shaken she was after connecting so often with Dimitri and seeing, no matter what she'd done to help him, that his suffering continued. There was little she could do about the silver chains binding him so tightly from neck to ankle, not from so great a distance. She had barely allowed herself to acknowledge those evil chains.

  She knew it was the thin loops wrapped so tightly around his body, a mummy suit of silver, that kept Dimitri contained. He couldn't reach out to his kind for aid. He couldn't free himself, or fight his enemies. She had to find the best way to remove the silver and make certain she could heal the burns in his body at least enough to allow him to travel fast.

  She really didn't want to start a war. It would be so much better if they could rescue Dimitri without being detected.

  If their plan worked, she would take the information Mother Earth provided on the Lycans, their strengths, weaknesses and habits, their nature and the very character
istics unique to them, and she would use those things against them.

  Their last fail-safe depended on her. If they were wounded, or Dimitri was too weak, they needed that last safety zone. She would need to call on every ounce of her mage blood, of her connection to Mother Earth, of her Dragonseeker lineage, to provide a protection spell strong enough to allow anything human or Carpathian to enter, but hold all Lycans out. If she succeeded, they would have a place to run to, a place to defend if the Lycans attacked them. If not, they would all certainly die.

  5

  Pain was endless, slowing time so that each individual second crawled by. Dimitri could barely breathe, his breath coming in ragged, shuddering gasps, signaling he was nearly at the end of his endurance. His body shivered continuously of its own accord. Try as he might, he couldn't stop that automatic reflex, much like a wounded animal alone and cornered. His mind was in chaos, the sound of his stuttering heart thundering in his ears.

  Hunger beat at him with every slow second that passed. He was aware of every living creature with blood running in its veins that came near him. He could hear that throbbing beat deep in their veins like a drum summoning him. Even the twisting, agonizing pain couldn't stop the need rising like a tsunami that couldn't be denied.

  His teeth were lengthened and sharp. It took every ounce of discipline he possessed to keep from fighting the silver chains encircling his body. Even with the hooks in him he could have called prey, but the chains prevented him.

  He smelled the Lycans approaching long before he heard them coming. In his weakened state, he thought the tremendous gifts of a mixed blood--the Lycan's dreaded Sange rau--would lessen, not strengthen, but his every sense stretched and grew until he was aware even of the insects crawling on the ground and up the tree trunks.

  Sometimes he thought he could actually see and hear the plants growing around him. A few minutes earlier, the grasses surrounding him had been a few feet away from where he hung, but now they covered the ground beneath him like a thick mat. Bunches of flowers seemed to be springing up, fully formed with stalks and petals within minutes. He fastened his gaze to the ground, surprised to see ferns pushing through the earth in a dozen spots surrounding him.

  "You don't look so tough hanging there," Gunnolf sneered as he came up on Dimitri.

  Dimitri didn't deign to respond, what was the point? Gunnolf wanted to elicit some response out of him, and he wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. It wouldn't lessen his pain, and he couldn't get to him to take his blood, so really, retreating into his own mind was a far better option.

  "Your friends haven't exactly come running to save you," Gunnolf continued, idly kicking at Dimitri's leg. He laughed when Dimitri's body swayed and the hooks dug in deeper, ripping at his flesh. "They must have realized what a dirty, disgusting monster you are and left us to kill you. They weren't all that good in a fight anyway."

  Dimitri remained silent, his eyes on the ground. He could see dirt pushing up in places around the ferns and the mystery of it fascinated him. Some of the grass in spots directly beneath him had grown high enough that the blades brushed his legs. The grass wound around his ankle and slid beneath the tattered hem of his trousers. Slowly he could feel it traveling up along his skin until it found that exact spot where the Lycan hunter had kicked him. Tiny droplets of something cool and wet fell from the leaf to find the bruise. At once that pain was gone.

  "I will say, you've lasted longer than anyone else ever sentenced to death by silver." This time there was a hint of apprehension in Gunnolf's voice. "No one has lasted past three days. They say it's impossible to hold still and the silver reaches your heart faster. If you want to end the misery, just dance around a little bit more."

  He caught Dimitri's shoulders and shook his body hard, laughing again as the fresh blood poured from each of the wounds where the hooks held him prisoner.

  "Gunnolf! What are you doing?" Zev snapped sharply.

  Gunnolf sobered instantly. He leaned close to Dimitri's ear. "Die already, you monster, so I can get out of here." He released him and stepped away from the dangling body.

  Zev shoved him away from Dimitri. "You have no right to put your hands on him. The man is suffering. Isn't that enough for you? If you weren't one of my pack, I would think you've gone rogue and enjoy the suffering of others."

  "He's Sange rau, a monster beyond compare." Gunnolf spit on the ground to show his contempt. "He would kill every man, woman and child we have and never look back."

  "He is not vampire as the others were," Zev argued.

  His tone had gone thoughtful. Dimitri's gaze jumped up, and he found Zev was now looking at the ground. His rugged features were expressionless, but his piercing eyes saw far too much. Dimitri's heart gave a jolt in his chest as Zev glided forward, a fluid, easy move that was nearly impossible for Gunnolf to follow, but so very easy for Dimitri.

  There, on the ground beneath his swaying body, mostly buried in the thick mat of grass and the ferns and flowers, were a few telling beads of silver glittering, drawing the eye. The sole of Zev's boot slipped over the silver, mashing it further into the ground. When he moved his boot, stepping forward, grass sprang up as if he'd never taken a step. The silver beads were completely hidden from view.

  Zev raised his gaze to Dimitri's. "You had better get out of here, Gunnolf. You've challenged me one too many times and my patience has grown thin. The next time, you had better come prepared to defeat me in battle."

  Gunnolf snarled, baring his teeth, but he turned abruptly and strode away. Zev sighed, shaking his head. "That one and I will tangle in the near future, and it will be a fight to the death."

  "He will not fight fair," Dimitri predicted. "In fact, I doubt he will come at you face-to-face. He will try to kill you when your back is turned and there is no one to see his treachery."

  "I am truly sorry," Zev said. "I sent word to the council to try to get this sentence retracted, but there has been no word. I cannot go against my people, but I would help in whatever way I can."

  "You have been kind to bring me water," Dimitri said.

  "No one has ever been able to remove silver from their system," Zev said, looking down at the ground beneath Dimitri.

  Using the toe of his boot, Zev pushed aside the grass and ferns. No trace of silver remained. Frowning, he dug into the soil. "It's gone."

  Dimitri said nothing. He could feel the grass blades winding their way around his ankle and slipping over his calf to the point of entry where the hooks were embedded in his muscle. Those tiny beads of salve dropped onto his raw wounds. The grass seemed to massage the soothing gel into lesions and then began moving up toward the gashes on his thighs.

  Skyler. His woman. His lifemate. Who would have ever thought she could have so much power packed into that little frame of hers? She had a core of pure steel. He had no doubt in his mind that she had made some pact with Mother Earth and this form of healing was her doing. Healing and hiding evidence.

  Zev came closer. "I cannot free you, but I can aid you. There is no law that says I cannot provide nutrients for you. Allow me to give you blood."

  Dimitri's heart jumped and then began to pound. He had never considered that a Lycan would make such an offer. The temptation was overwhelming. He could feel saliva forming in his mouth. His teeth were sharp and terrible.

  "I am weak. Far too weak to trust myself. I am uncertain if I could stop." He forced the truth out, respecting the man, not wanting to take any chances. He would have drained Gunnolf dry, but Zev had integrity and the sentence of the council had clearly come as a shock to him.

  "You are wrapped in chains," Zev pointed out. "I can control your intake."

  Dimitri lifted his head to look around him. The forest was thick with trees and brush, but he felt and heard the life force of other Lycans close by. He could feel eyes on them. "The more you aid me, the more suspect you become in the eyes of the others. The one you call Gunnolf is poisoning the minds of the others against you. By aiding me,
you help his cause."

  "What is his cause?" Zev asked. "Why is it so important for you to die before the summit reaches its conclusion? It makes no sense. Key members of our council are meeting right now with your prince and his people to settle the issue of the Sange rau--the Bad Blood, and the Han ku pesak kaikak, or Paznicii de toate--Guardian of all. Doesn't it make sense to see that outcome before sentencing you to death?"

  Dimitri tried a smile, exposing his lengthened canines. "I'm the one sentenced to death, so obviously it makes perfect sense to me."

  "I see you've retained your sense of humor."

  "I try." The soothing grass had reached his thighs now, moving up both legs to find those terrible, burning wounds in an effort to ease the pain.

  Hunger reached a new high. He could count each individual beat of Zev's steady, strong pulse. A strange roaring in his head consumed his mind with the urgency to feed. He saw red, the color banding in his vision.

  "Maybe you should step back, put a safe distance between us," Dimitri cautioned. His voice had become more of a growl than an actual vocalization.

  Unafraid, Zev stepped closer, his own teeth tearing a hole in his wrist. He was careful to avoid the silver chains encompassing Dimitri's body as he lifted his wrist, dripping with life-giving blood, to Dimitri's mouth.

  Blood surged to every starved cell, every withered organ, moved over the many burned paths the silver had taken, to revitalize and rejuvenate. Dimitri tried to be polite, tried to hold on to awareness. Zev risked his life by giving him blood. His pack could turn on him at any moment. Dimitri was certain Gunnolf had his own agenda. He wanted more power and Zev was standing in his way. This act of kindness could very well be Zev's downfall.

  Yet Dimitri couldn't make himself stop. All he had to do was sweep his tongue across that wound in Zev's wrist to close the gash, but hunger was so raw, so terrible, such a monster gaining control of him, that he couldn't quite manage on his own.

  You must stop me. He pushed the words out from his mind onto a path, any path, hoping Zev would pick it up. They'd used telepathic communication on a hunt of a rogue pack before, although the path had not been between them. Telepathic communication grew easier once it was established, but there was usually a blood path between a Carpathian and the one he reached out to. His heart sank. He'd never given Zev blood.

 

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