“I’d be very interested in seeing those toys,” Fen admitted. He was just a little envious. That sword had come in handy. He needed time to study it, to figure out how best to forge one himself. Silver was natural—of the earth—which meant he could easily produce one, as he did the silver stakes, but one didn’t just fashion a fine weapon from thin air without having knowledge of how it was made. He really did covet that extraordinary sword.
“Come by my room at the inn.”
“You know you’re deep in Carpathian country,” Fen pointed out. “Everyone in that village is friends with the prince. He’s close by and his hunters are probably already aware of you. They’ll be watching closely. And there’s no way you can keep a rogue pack under wraps here.”
Zev nodded. “They won’t be able to detect what I am, although they may become suspicious. They’re very astute.”
“Hello. Did you both forget I’m right here?” Tatijana demanded. “Of course the prince will know you’re here. I have every intention of ratting the both of you out immediately. We don’t take kindly to rogue packs and vampires killing anyone, human, Lycan or Carpathian. Did you think I’d be a good girl and just forget to report this?”
“We could only hope,” Fen said good-naturedly.
“You fought so well,” Zev added. “For a minute there I forgot you were Carpathian and believed you were Lycan.”
“Ha, ha, ha, Zev,” Tatijana sniffed. “As if a Lycan can fight as well as a Carpathian. Who saved your butt today? That was me.”
“Don’t tease her, Zev,” Fen said with a small groan. “She’s sassy enough without making her think she has to defend the entire Carpathian species.”
Zev flashed him a knowing grin. “Come take me on my first dragon ride,” he said to Tatijana. “I’ll let you deal with dead bodies and Carpathians this night, Fen. Come see me and I’ll show you those weapons. I might even have an extra or two.” The smile faded and he lifted his head and sniffed the forest.
Fen did the same. The scent of blood and death and burnt flesh permeated the entire area. The scent of rogues in battle was already present, and if they were creeping close again, they would have made certain their scents would remain hidden. Zev was worried about leaving him there alone.
“How long will it take Bardolf to regenerate?” Zev asked. “I’ve never actually fought the Sange rau. I’ve never come across one before,” he admitted.
“Longer than he’ll like.” Enough time that Fen planned to go looking for his lair. But he’d do that alone. Neither Tatijana nor Zev needed that information.
Silly wolf man. You think to protect me from the vampire thingie, whatever he is. I learn fast. I am not going to leave you to fight this battle alone.
There was soft, sensual affection growing in her voice, enough that the low note turned his heart to mush. He was supposed to be the big bad warrior and she seemed to reduce him to melted goo with just a few words. That didn’t bode well for his future.
Tatijana threw back her head and laughed aloud. “You two are priceless. I’m collecting the silver stakes and giving them to Fen. Do you want to loan him your silver sword as well while he waits all alone like a sacrificial lamb in the forest for the wolves to return?”
That was a good one. No way would Zev want to part with his sword, but she’d made it nearly impossible for him to do anything else. If he insisted on taking it with him, when an injured man was waiting alone and vulnerable, he would look pretty petty.
Zev shook his head. “I want this back, Fen.” He held the sword out to Tatijana.
“I’ll see to it,” Fen promised. “You said your pack would be here to help in another twenty-four hours.”
Tatijana might be the one giving the sword back. Fen had only another day before he entered the time of great danger. Zev would recognize his mixed blood. By the full moon, every Lycan in the vicinity would sense his presence and try to kill him. Once Zev’s pack of elite hunters arrived, Fen would be in real trouble. They would put the rogue pack on the back burner and make him their primary mission.
“It amazes me that the silver would be strong enough to cut through bone.”
Zev’s smile was distinctly wolfish. Clearly he had a few secrets when it came to making his weapons. Fen needed those secrets. He glanced at Tatijana. She nodded.
“Let’s go, Zev, before it gets much later. Unlike you, I have to be aware of time,” Tatijana reminded gently. “I’m going to shift and you’ll have to climb up my wing to get onto my back.” She looked around. “I’ll need a little room.”
She didn’t wait. Tatijana was so fast at shifting into the form of a blue dragon, and so completely engulfed, mind and body, immediately, that Fen realized she was far more comfortable in that form than in her own.
By dragon standards, she might have been considered small, but there in the forest and so close to them, she seemed enormous—and beautiful. Her scales were iridescent blue, shimmering in the surrounding mist. Spikes ran along the ridge of her back down her long tail to end in a lethal-looking spear. Her eyes were large and emerald green, faceted like sparkling diamonds.
“Magnificent,” Zev said. “Tatijana, that’s incredible.” He glanced at Fen. “Did you see how fast she was? I would have thought a dragon would take a few minutes.” He attempted to rise, holding on to the tree trunk for support.
Fen could see the extent of Zev’s injuries. He’d been badly wounded in dozens of places. Deep chunks of flesh had been torn from him. His face was etched with pain. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He didn’t make a sound, as stoic as ever, but his skin looked a little gray.
“Hang on,” Fen ordered, using his most compelling voice. Low. Velvet soft. A sneaky compulsion that slipped in on an alpha when the most commanding voice would never work. He stood up himself, blocking out the rush of pain as he got to his feet.
His respect for Zev was growing with every passing minute spent in his company. He’d met many tough Lycans, good men who knew how to fight in a battle, but clearly Zev was a cut above the rest. Lycans couldn’t cut off pain the way Carpathians could. They endured it and fought on. The really great ones, like Zev, stayed in the battle even when others would have passed out.
Fen crossed the distance between them, one hand sliding over the body of the dragon in a long caress. “You’re a lucky man, Zev,” he observed.
“A privilege,” Zev agreed. “I never thought I’d ever get this close to one. They’re long gone now from this world.”
He didn’t protest when Fen slipped an arm around him to aid him. That told Fen more than anything, that Zev was badly injured. Tatijana extended her wing toward Zev. Fen helped him cover the ground to get to the wing.
He can’t walk up your wing, Fen told her, using their telepathic link. He was beginning to worry about Zev’s condition. Just how bad was he?
He’d been so concerned with Dimitri’s horrendous wounds he hadn’t considered that Zev had borne the brunt of the attack right along with Dimitri. He’d known, but Tatijana hadn’t really told him just how bad Zev’s injuries were. She’d been concerned with protecting Fen’s secret as well as getting to him quickly to see to his wounds.
He didn’t have intestines hanging out like Dimitri, Tatijana said. But it was very bad. A lesser man would be unconscious right now.
If I use my abilities as a Carpathian to get up on your back he’ll know immediately that I am more than Lycan.
Tatijana made a little sound in his mind, a very feminine humph of annoyance. All you had to do was ask.
He found himself smiling. Maybe he did try to annoy her just a little bit on purpose. He liked her fiery little temper. He could feel each time that temper flared, bursting across his mind like stars across a sky on a hot summer’s night, warming him. He found comfort in her explosive reactions, small as they were, but still directed at him. Engulfing him. Surrounding him. Sink
ing into his bones. His blood. She was his.
You wish.
She gave a little delicate sniff, but there was growing affection in her teasing tone. He felt surrounded by her warmth. She seemed to pour into his mind, liquid fire, filling every empty, dark place with light, laughter and her incredible natural sensuality.
Why is your dragon blue when you burn so hot?
Have you never seen a blue flame? Tatijana asked. When I was a little girl I would see the flames dancing blue in Xavier’s secret caverns. I could never touch or feel them because they were always far away and I was often encased in ice, but they looked so beautiful.
Which was why she had been so intrigued with flames earlier in the tavern.
The blue dragon looked at Zev with worried eyes. She projected her voice through the great beast. “If you will allow me, Zev, I can float you up to my back. It will be easier on both of us.”
“Thank you, of course I don’t mind if it’s easier for you. You’re already doing me a huge favor.” He looked up that long wing. The climb would be quite difficult with his wounds.
He was weak from loss of blood. I gave him blood, but was careful it wasn’t so much that he would know. He was in and out of consciousness for a few minutes until I got enough blood in him.
I could kiss you for making it easy on his pride, Fen told her.
There are much better reasons for kissing, Fenris Dalka. Perhaps you might consider one or two in my absence.
Tatijana floated Zev up to her back and waited until he was seated comfortably.
And wolf man . . .
Her voice had turned dark. Sensual. The blue dragon turned that wedge-shaped head, lowered her neck until her multifaceted emerald eyes were on the same level as his. His breath felt trapped in his lungs. His heart stuttered. Every muscle in his body tensed.
You haven’t seen just how hot I can burn yet.
Fen nearly choked. He watched the dragon maneuver its long body through the trees until the mist swallowed them up. He let himself sway, one hand on a tree for support, just for a moment until the world stopped spinning. He kept pain at bay, even though that also cost in strength, uncertain whether or not Tatijana would touch his mind.
He still had the dead body to take care of, and he needed to find a warm body to provide enough blood to sustain and heal him. He would provide sustenance for Dimitri. It would take his brother a longer time to heal due to the extent of his injuries.
Fen had always, always stayed as a Lycan, thinking and acting as one, which helped him to keep the darkness at bay until this last century or so when his mixed blood began to add to the pull of darkness. Now he needed to go back to being Carpathian, at least until this night was over. He was going hunting, wounds or no. That was what Carpathian hunters did.
He took to the air, a long trail of mist streaking through the denser fog.
What do you think you’re doing? Tatijana’s voice was deceptively mild.
He wasn’t buying it. My lady, I have duties to perform this night. As do you. Make certain your prince is aware of what is happening in his homeland.
Tatijana’s amusement burst through him like sparkling fireworks. Our prince, Fenris. You can change your name to anything you want, your blood may be different, but you were born Carpathian and you will always be Carpathian. You may have left your homeland when another prince was ruler, but you have returned and you owe your allegiance to Mikhail, just as we all do.
She had a point. He had been alone so long he had forgotten there was an entire society attempting to rebuild itself. He had long ago resigned himself to being completely on his own. He’d never even heard of Mikhail or his second-in-command, Gregori, until Dimitri had filled him in on the news of the past few centuries there in the Carpathian Mountains.
It is so, my lady.
Wait for me. I’ll only be a few more minutes.
She was tenacious—and worried about him. While it warmed his heart and made him feel alive and exhilarated, it was also a very bad combination.
Tatijana, what I do is dangerous. I can’t do this and worry that you will be harmed.
Again she surprised him. There was no petulant woman, upset with him for brushing her aside when she’d aided him in battle and was still aiding him. She stroked a gentle caress through his mind. You do not know your lifemate. I absorb everyone’s knowledge when I come into contact with them. Enemy and friend. It is a habit I acquired from my childhood when I had no other life than an intellectual one.
I hunt rogue and the Sange rau this night. Bardolf will not expect it and he will be weak, trying to repair himself.
And that is why your lifemate will be an asset to you on the hunt, she replied complacently. I am Dragonseeker. No vampire could hide from me, which essentially, that’s what he is. He can sink into the wolf and I would still know he was there. I made a mistake tonight. I felt his presence and dove to protect you. I would have flamed him but you were too close. You were his target, Fen.
He had heard, down through the long centuries, that Dragonseekers could ferret out vampires when no others could. They were the only lineage in the history of the Carpathian people who had never had a single family member turn. Tatijana was Dragonseeker. More, she had been honed in the fires of hell, more precisely, in the glacier ice of the mage world. He couldn’t discount what she said.
Fen had come across the rogue pack’s trail of destruction and he’d begun to suspect that a monster, the combination of wolf and vampire, traveled with them or at least near them, but he hadn’t known until Bardolf had come to kill him. If Tatijana said she had known immediately Bardolf was vampire and not werewolf, he believed her. It was difficult to tell an untruth to one’s lifemate when you often shared the same mind.
Her laughter was soft and warm. So now you are thinking I just may come in handy on this hunt of yours after all, aren’t you?
The difficulty as he saw it, would be letting her go. She was already deeply entrenched in his mind. He had been so alone for so long in a shadow world of violence and darkness, and with just one evening in her company she had brought laughter, emotion and companionship into his life. He hadn’t even realized he’d missed such things. He could barely remember having them. He was under a death sentence and it was only a matter of time—this century or the next—but it would happen. He would be hunted down and killed.
He couldn’t give Tatijana the most basic thing between lifemates—the blood of life. His blood was no longer pure Carpathian. He would never have given Dimitri his blood had there been an alternative, and in any case, Dimitri and he had shared so much blood over the centuries his brother was already well on his way to becoming a mixed blood.
That is not your choice, Fen, Tatijana reminded. I am no young child as Dimitri’s lifemate is. I am centuries old and no one will ever make my decisions for me again. If my choice is you, then I will share all things a lifemate does, including exchanging blood. I am a woman. A warrior in my own right. I am an asset to you on the hunt and I refuse to be relegated to the role of a child with you making decisions for me.
There was no defiance, only implacability. Tatijana was not a woman to be pushed around and he found he admired her all the more for that. She was a fitting partner for him, which made it all the more difficult to protect her from his life—and herself.
She gave an inelegant snort of pure disdain. If I choose to be claimed by you, then I will share your blood with open eyes. This is not your decision alone, Fen. It is a mutual decision. My lifemate is my partner, not my keeper.
Again there was truth in what she said. He was both Carpathian and Lycan. If he claimed her and shared his life with her, there could be no half measures. I understand, Tatijana, he replied. What else could he say when she had a point he couldn’t refute.
She was his miracle and he wanted to wrap her up in a safety net and always make certain she
was protected.
Have you considered that I might think you’re a miracle? That I want to make certain that you’re safe at all times? Why should that be only your prerogative?
Below him was the body of the man who had been killed by the rogue werewolves. His body was torn almost beyond recognition. If it was found in its present state, all real wolves in the vicinity would be threatened. There would be an outcry for justice and hunters would be overrunning the forest and mountains to wipe out the dangerous packs. In the meantime, the rogue werewolves would move on to new territories or begin killing the villagers.
They don’t know they are in Carpathian territory, do they?
I doubt it. Not even Bardolf would know. If he’s the one who stirred the pack in this direction, he certainly didn’t. He was Lycan, not Carpathian, and he would have no knowledge of this culture or the fact that the prince is in residence here.
Fen dropped down to the forest floor. The body was exactly where he and Tatijana had stumbled across it earlier, but something about it caught his attention. He circled warily. He needed to conserve his strength in the event he managed to track Bardolf to his lair. Even in his present condition, the vampire would be lethal. After meeting Fen, recognizing what Fen was, Bardolf would move on as soon as he could. Now would be the optimum time to destroy him.
What is it?
That tinge of worry in her voice warmed him, showing him more than ever that he was no longer alone. She might not want to be claimed, but she was his.
Concentrate on what you’re doing or you’re going to get yourself killed, wolf man. We’ll never find out about this lifemate business if you keep trying to play the hero.
Trying? He gave her a male smirk. The branches above his head tapped together in the wind. There was no wind. The air had gone still, yet that tapping persisted—a consistent, steady, very rhythmic beat. I was the hero tonight, my lady. You clearly weren’t paying attention, which makes it necessary to repeat myself. He let her hear the clacking of the branches.
Dark Lycan (Carpathian) Page 8