Lychos

by Larsen, Patti

  “Why have we decided to include the Steam Union?” The last we talked, I assumed we were leaving them out of it.

  Piers shrugs. “Even with such powerhouses as Ethpeal and Demetrius,” he bows to them while they grin back, “there are only three of us. We have no idea how many friends Rupe has brought with him.”

  “If any,” I say.

  My father shakes his head. “There are a number of sorcerers at the palace,” he says. “Young and inexperienced from what I can tell, but they follow Rupe’s orders.”

  Syd releases me, turns to face me. “It’s up to you,” she says. “I can back up Piers if you want to keep Eva in the dark.”

  They wait for me to answer while I turn it over in my mind. When I finally nod to Piers, he looks relieved.

  “Very well,” I say. “But she must agree to the same terms as the rest of us.” I gesture at Femke. “If she won’t accept the leadership of the Council, she’s not invited.”

  “Agreed,” Femke says, face stormy. I know she won’t take "no" for an answer.

  Piers’s black power pools at his feet and, within a moment, a gaping tunnel of darkness opens behind him. I hold myself still as Eva and a string of her sorcerers enter the throne room at Wilhelm. She looks angry, frustrated, but not aimed outward, so I can only hope she agrees to our terms.

  “Eva.” Femke steps forward, face cold. “You’re late to the party.”

  “Maybe if I knew there was one,” Piers’s mother answers, equally as chill. “My invitation seems to have been waylaid.” She meets my eyes a moment, drifts her gaze past me as though I’m unimportant, settles on Syd. My jaw jumps in anger. Considering I’d shown her a measure of kindness not so long ago, her attitude rubs me the wrong way.

  “Oh, do get over yourself, Mother.” Piers’s taunt tightens the skin around his mother’s eyes. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”

  “We have confirmation the rogue sorcerer Rupe and some of his companions are right now in residence at the werewolf palace in Ukraine.” Femke holds up one hand as Eva tries to speak. “The Council has agreed to a coalition force to approach the usurper wereking and demand the surrender of the sorcerers and the Californian pack we believe were created and not born.” Eva doesn’t try to interrupt this time, just listens. “My Enforcers, along with a force of Wilhelm and DeWinter vampires,” both rulers nod their agreement, “choose to stand with the true heir to the throne.” Femke’s cloak rustles at her feet as she straightens her shoulders. “We would have the Steam Union join our coalition and stand with us.”

  Eva’s frown eases slightly, though she still smells cautious. “Under your command, I assume?”

  Femke nods. “That is the requirement of the Council,” she says. “We do not wish to tread on the toes of autonomous magic races, but it has long been known by all if we are forced to do so, we will not hesitate.” Considering how many more witches there were than the rest of us combined, I knew Femke had the power to follow through if she had to. Mind you, she and her Enforcers would be no match for the Steam Union, no matter their small numbers, sorcery able to counter any magic. And yet, I wouldn’t put it past Femke to have developed her own sorcerers to counter such a threat.

  Eva shrugs at last, resistance gone, though I can sense a taut anger in her still as she replies. “Very well,” she says. “The Steam Union welcomes the opportunity to work with other races to our mutual benefit.”

  Femke nods, turns in a crisp half circle outward. A tall, handsome witch in a black robe bows to her.

  “Albert,” she says, “it’s time. Assemble our Enforcer legion and escort the werearmy to the gates of the palace.”

  “Yes, Council Leader,” he says, vanishing in a flash of blue fire.

  “I go.” Femke comes to my side, hugs me. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  I let her leave without comment as a small group of vampires flicker into shadow and vanish. Sunny remains behind, Frank leading her forces. Sebastian bows over my hand, kissing the back of it, blue eyes mysterious.

  “All will be well, Your Highness,” he says.

  “With your help, I can’t believe otherwise,” I say.

  He winks and leaves me, Alison taking his place. I’m surprised by her sudden bravery, but she hugs me anyway.

  Eva Southway has her own agenda, Alison’s mental voice reaches me, cold and distant, but clear.

  I have no doubt, I send back. But thank you for the warning.

  Alison curtsies a little before leaving with Sebastian.

  Ethpeal and Demetrius join us as Piers leaves with his mother. Her glare at Syd’s grandmother and her husband aren’t lost on me. When the Southways and their people are gone, I grip Ethpeal’s hand in my own.

  “She resents you,” I say.

  The former Enforcer and coven leader snorts. “There’s a shocker,” she says, sounding so much like her granddaughter we all laugh.

  “Have no fear,” Demetrius says, loving eyes on his wife. “I’m far more clever than Eva will ever be. Nothing will happen to harm my girl.”

  Ethpeal pats his cheek, but she’s blushing. “Silly man,” she says. “I can take care of myself.”

  I know better than to worry about them, I suppose. But they are family, so I can’t help it.

  “We have a plan to rescue your grandfather,” Ethpeal says. She exchanges a look with her husband who nods to her. “It’s risky, but we’re pretty sure we can break through Rupe’s defenses long enough to reach Oleksander.”

  I hesitate, heart aching. “And Sage?”

  Demetrius’s bright blue eyes are sad as he shakes his head. “It’s one or the other, I’m afraid.”

  I squeeze Syd’s hand. “Then we go in and save them both by force.”

  Syd lets out a big gust of air, beaming a smile. “Shall we join the army?”

  I grin back at her. “Nice to be on the other side for once, isn’t it?”

  She laughs. “Tell me about it.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Four

  I know these gates well, have stood on both sides of them in my lifetime, as a slave and a princess. The long, winding road beyond leads through the heavy forest and to the palace where my grandfather and my love await rescue.

  Syd stands apart, arms crossed over her chest, the cool night air carrying the promise of winter to come. I stay out of the way of Femke, Eva Southway glued to her hip, where the European Leader talks quietly with a large werewolf through the metal bars.

  She’ll receive no invitation from Caine, forced to assault the palace if she wants to take control of the situation. A heavy shield keeps us out, no matter our plans to enter. I’m hardly surprised Rupe has protected the grounds, though the power he’s expending to protect such a large area has to be draining on his energy.

  No matter. Let the army sit here and talk all they want. I’m more than willing to leave Femke and Eva here dealing with politics while I find my own way through Rupe’s defenses.

  Syd’s hand hooks my arm as I turn to leave. The large group of vampires, werewolves now loyal to me, and Enforcers wait with growing impatience on the outside of the gate. I avoid eye contact with Piers who stands with his mother’s people, Ethpeal and Demetrius also returned to those ranks.

  “Tell me you’re not thinking of doing what I think you’re thinking,” she says.

  My lips quiver in amusement, pent-up tension working its way through my body as a thrill of excitement. There was a moment, in Wilding Springs, I thought this would all be over quickly, one way or another. I was so wrong. But this time I’m certain. Either Cicero Caine dies today or I do. Either way, it will be over.

  “I need the distraction,” I say. “All of you, out here, beating your chests and threatening Caine will distract him and Rupe. While I sneak in the back and free Oleksander and Sage.”

  “At least take some backup.” She’s going to volunteer—even insist—but I shake my head, pulling away.

  “I won’t risk others,” I say. “I can hand
le myself. Please, just make sure you’re noisy.”

  Syd grins suddenly, fierce, her own wolf showing, if she had one. “My demon seems to think she knows the perfect deflection,” Syd says before pausing, smile failing. “Be careful.”

  I’m amazed she’s letting me go alone. But when I hug her magic with mine, I feel her pride in me, her understanding I need to do this, to see this through without help, if I’m ever going to take my place as ruler of the werenation.

  We’ve both grown up, it appears.

  I skirt the edge of the fence, knowing exactly where I’m going. It doesn’t cover the entire territory, just about a half mile either way into the trees. The Czar and his Black Souls never felt threatened by other magic races and only erected the barrier to keep out curious normals. And my grandfather continued the tradition.

  I know these woods as well as I know myself. I’m just out of range of the coalition forces when I begin to shed my clothing, jogging into the dark, feeling my way along the fence and Rupe’s shields. Hopefully, Syd and her demon won’t do too much damage, but right now, I’ll take all the distraction I can get.

  Caine will know I’m coming for him by other means than a frontal assault. The question is, will he guess I’ll come alone? I’m about to find out.

  My wereshape feels awkward, but I resist falling into full wolf form just yet. My legs are longer this way, my body stronger and I still have complete access to my magic, if not as powerfully. This will do to cover the mile-long run to the palace grounds. If I can get past the shields. This might be a short trip leading me right back to Syd and the others.

  The moment I reach the edge of the fence, the protections Rupe’s created vanish with the physical barrier. I laugh my werewolf amusement into the darkness. He might want the job, but Rupe is no Liander Belaisle. I should be grateful he’s not nearly as foresighted as his old master. When I slip across the border into were territory, I realize the truth of Rupe’s little game. He’s set up a front, a false wall to fake out the army. Then again, maybe this is a trap set just for me, but he’s a fool to let me get closer to him, so I willingly take the bait and begin to run.

  They ghost from the darkness around me, their scent welcome, as is their presence. I’ve missed my little wolf pack, find myself slowing to greet them. The white wolf bows her head to me, pawing at the dirt with her claws, tail swinging behind her. The huge alpha stands at her side, their pack gathered in the gloom behind them.

  It’s the first time I realize they feel odd to me. Now my full magic is open and available, I realize this pack isn’t what they seem. In fact, the white wolf and her alpha aren’t real wolves at all, though it takes me a stunned moment to accept it.

  “Weres,” I growl between my wolf jaws, my wereshape allowing me to speak out loud. “You were werewolves once.”

  The white yips a bark at me, takes a step forward. No wonder they trail me every time I’m here. The part of them that was human recognized me. Does that mean they, too, retained their humanity like Sage?

  Or had it been freed when Syd released them—at the same time she released the rest of the werenation—from the magic of the Black Souls? I stare down into the white wolf’s eyes and shudder all over, my fur rippling with understanding. Maybe there was a time they were wolves, lost to the shape they took. But they are now trapped, the people they were, inside the bodies they embraced. Like Sage was.

  No, they are much further distant, unable to connect with me mentally. I feel their humanity, though the longer I focus, the closer to the surface their personalities rise and a sick, horrible feeling bubbles in my stomach as I understand who they are.

  The alpha barks once, growls as his pack retreats and I no longer have time to focus on the pair of wolves before me. I turn, snarling at the scent I’ve finally detected, downwind hiding their approach, as six wolves slink from the trees toward me. Not wereshapes, but full wolf forms, and I know them, regardless the bodies they wear.

  “Roman.” I snap my teeth at the giant timber wolf as he lets out a low howl, head down, fur on end. “And Viveca.” She’s smaller than her brother, but no less dangerous, yellow eyes full of hatred. Piers let her go once before. I won’t allow her or her brother to escape this time.

  The rest of this pack are Caine’s, I can feel the hint of taint in them, the sorcery that made them even now detectable. Which gives me hope. They have access to their full wolf forms, but their magic must still be restricted thanks to the flaw in their makeup.

  I have no such restraints.

  My little pack is gone, though the white wolf and the alpha remain with me. As I knew they would. I don’t allow another moment to pass, sinking fully into my wolf shape and leaping at Viveca.

  Roman tries to block me, but the alpha is on him, the white wolf at his side, and he’s forced to fight them off. More wolf bodies flicker among the trees and I realize my little pack hasn't left me after all.

  Viveca lunges for my throat, but I’m faster than her, my shoulder hitting hers with my full weight, my magic slamming against her at the same moment. She staggers back away from me, snarling and snapping, only to lunge again. I see my advantage immediately. She’s lost in her rage, gone berserk in her need to harm me. All I need to do is maintain my calm and she is mine.

  I would love to toy with her, take my time teaching her before I tear her heart out, but I have little time and more important foes to fight. A quick snap with my jaws and her back left hamstring tears, sending her scrambling out of reach with a sharp cry of pain. I crowd her, teeth carving a chunk from her neck before I take out the rest of her back end with a blow to her lower spine. She crumples into the leaves, howling her pain. I shift up and out into wereshape, raising one claw over her as she, too, loses her wolf form and begins to change.

  I can have no pity. My claw descends, slicing across her throat, blood gushing from her severed artery and vein, a gasp of lost wind echoing from the top of her open windpipe. She’s human again, falling backward from me, eyes huge and full of shock, mouth gaping open while her torn throat geysers a double fountain of blood up and over her body. She collapses to the sound of Roman screaming her name.

  A glance up, all the time I have, before her brother leaps for me. But he’s forgotten the two he fights, his wolf form gone to wereshape, no match for their tag-team. The white wolf hits him hard in the torso mid-flight, sending him sideways to crash into a tree. The alpha is ready and waiting, his teeth closing around Roman’s face. The crunch of crushing bone rings loud in the sudden silence, the former beta jerking like a broken puppet as the alpha pulps his now human face into unrecognizable meat.

  The alpha steps back, panting, jaws dripping blood, as the white wolf lunges in and does to Roman’s throat with her teeth what I did to Viveca’s with my claws. His blood runs sluggish, his heart already slowed, and it’s only a moment before it stops forever.

  I spin to check in on my little pack, only to find them standing with us, panting, tails swinging, Caine’s weres long gone. I lift my muzzle and howl into the night, the pack joining me, even as a dozen or so werewolves burst through the trees and come to a halt.

  I know my father’s wereshape. He shifts to human while a surge of hate for him pounds a stake into my chest. “Tell me,” I snarl, pointing with my claws at the two wolves who stare up at him, “these aren’t who I think they are?” Who I know they are. How did I miss it? Did I simply not want to know the beloved pair weren’t dead, but instead lived on in the bodies of wolves? I choke on a sob, fury holding it back.

  Raoul won’t look at me, or at them. “Your mother and brother are dead to the pack,” he says. “So say the law of the werewolves.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I leap at my father, but the white wolf puts herself between me and him and I’m forced to retreat. She turns her back on him, facing me, one paw rising to swipe the air. I reach for her, my power engulfing her, feel her own magic dormant inside her.

  “Why haven’t
you woken?” I crouch before her, touching her fur with my hands, wanting to cry but unable to let myself go. I must solve this mystery and understand. “You’re free. Why can’t you access your magic?”

  “They are gone,” Raoul says, but I glare at him, a sharp and angry jab of power joining my furious expression and he falls silent.

  “Your father is right.” Maksym is lucky I don’t send him flying. But he is my friend and I am more willing to listen. Sorrow makes his voice quaver. “Olena gave her life—everything she is—to protect you.”

  I spin on him, temper flaring. Friend or not, I’ll kill him if he’s deceived me. “You knew?”

  He nods sadly, gestures around at the other werewolves watching. “We all did,” he said. “It was Oleksander’s decision to keep her loss from you. To tell you she was killed instead of this tragedy.” His sad gaze falls on the white wolf.

  I shake my head, focusing on my mother. Her ears are perked and she’s watching me carefully. “Perhaps there was a time she was lost to us,” I say. “But they are free, don’t you understand?” I think of Sage. But he was never under the control of sorcery when he became a full wolf. He only lost his humanity after Rupe put controls on him. I can’t bring myself to believe Sage is gone forever, but can be restored if he is freed. Could it be my mother and brother have simply been in these shapes too long to save them, too?

  “Your mother had an idea,” Raoul says, voice low and dull and I listen only because I’m trying to think. “That if she could embrace her full wolf form, she could free herself from the Czar’s control.”

  “You had it partially right, Matinka,” I whisper to her. She barks a soft sound in agreement. “But you needed help, first.” I turn to Maks, ignoring my father. “And Danilo?”

  “The Czar forced him into this shape,” my friend says. “Promised him he would not kill you if your brother agreed to become a mindless animal.”