Have no worries, my lady, he assured. What he is saying to me is pure drivel. He knows I will hunt them. I am well aware this is a stalling tactic.
He inhaled, using Lycan-heightened senses, the acute hearing and smell, but he didn’t take his eyes from Drummel.
“I offer you a deal.”
“Justice does not make deals, Bardolf. I am the one appointed to bring that justice to you.”
Drummel spit and snarled, the red eyes spinning wildly with hatred and malice before Bardolf made a tremendous effort to recover. Just that alone put Fen further on edge. Vampires were not known for their control. Why would Bardolf make such an effort?
Fen, I am telling you, if Bardolf was Lycan before he became vampire, he could not possibly have placed a shadow of himself inside of a mage of Drummel’s importance. An ancient Carpathian might know. Even a vampire might have run across a mage willing to trade his soul for immortality, but how would a Lycan even know about such things? Tatijana asked.
If Tatijana was right, and she was the daughter of the most powerful mage in history, then Bardolf couldn’t have placed his shadow in Drummel. Fen didn’t wait to find out what Bardolf had to say next. There was no reasoning with madmen, and he saw no reason to wait for the attack he knew was coming any moment. He struck hard and fast, breaking Drummel’s neck.
The mage’s eyes opened wide, Bardolf staring in shock and horror. The body seized, convulsed. Poisonous sweat burst from his pores, out his eyelids and mouth.
Look out. Get back, Tatijana warned. She withdrew from her refuge, streaking to the battlefield to aid him. The sliver of Bardolf will seek another host.
Fen spun around, more worried about what he couldn’t see or hear than that small piece of Bardolf. Keep it off me, he commanded, certain of her now, knowing she would guard his back. And stay hidden. Do not reveal yourself no matter what happens, he added, cautioning her. They were not alone and he knew it.
The dead body jerked. Coughed. Fen didn’t spare it a glance. That was Tatijana’s territory and he could already hear her murmuring an ancient spell directed at the sliver of a shadow, so small but deadly. His was to find the unseen threat. He moved away from the dead body where Bardolf’s shadow sought a new host.
On the ground, small insects swarmed over rotting vegetation and Fen leapt into the air, just as creatures in the form of half man, half wolf, poured out of the trees in all directions. Directly beneath where he’d been standing, the ground erupted into a dark geyser of contaminated soil, spraying high, and with it, another large figure burst into the air after Fen, his long wolflike arms extended, claws tipped with glistening poison.
Fen reversed direction, hurtling toward the newcomer with blurring speed, slamming into him with such force they both tumbled back toward the ground. In his fist, he had a silver stake. This was the vampire/wolf Bardolf had tangled with and supposedly killed. Bardolf had exchanged life for servitude under a master killer.
Fen plunged the silver stake through the chest wall, deep into the heart of the vampire. He barely recognized him, a Carpathian male only a few years younger than him, one he’d played with as a boy. Abel, his parents called him. He’d been a boy with a sunny personality. Always smiling. Fen would never have thought Abel would choose to become vampire. He actually felt a pang of sorrow when he drove that silver stake into his chest and twisted the spiral in deeper.
Black blood poured over his fist, wrist and arm, burning like acid down to his bone. Abel’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away as expected. He was not only vampire, he was also werewolf. The long snout rushed at Fen, the razor-sharp teeth sinking into his neck and shoulder, slicing down to the bone as Abel ripped chunks of flesh away. Blood streamed down Fen’s body, and the vampire lapped at the ancient treat, gulping to get as much as possible.
Fen shoved him away as they both hit the ground hard. The scent of his rich, Carpathian blood set up a frenzied mass hysteria. The werewolves howled and rushed at him. Fen dissolved as they all leapt on him. As he streaked away, one arm emerged, fist holding a silver stake, which he plunged into the nearest werewolf’s heart. He moved quickly to get out of that crush of werewolves, a trail of ruby red blood giving his path away.
He pushed the pain to another dimension as he worked furiously to stop the blood flow. Tatijana was immediately beside him, a mere translucent image. Her hands became flesh and moved over his open lacerations. The sound of her soft healing chant filled his mind. For a moment the ice cold of his injuries burned hot. She’d stopped the blood by cauterizing the area.
You cannot be here. It’s too dangerous. If he spots you, he’ll go after you in order to get to me.
I can scatter the werewolves, and hunt them from the sky.
There was no time to argue with her. Watch for tricks and stay high. Lycans can leap enormous distances.
The tree limbs shook. Trunks split with a terrible boom, a heralding of great danger. Tatijana streaked for the sky, shifting into her blue dragon, answering the echoing blast with a roaring challenge of her own.
Abel followed the trail of red blood, and was on Fen just as Tatijana took to the air. The undead leapt after her, but Fen blocked his path with his body, so that the vampire slammed into him and they both landed on their feet in the middle of the werewolf pack.
“Take him, my hungry wolves,” Abel commanded, his voice filled with compulsion. “Do not let him escape. He is my gift to you with his hot, rich blood, fresh and flowing in his veins.”
Howling, the wolves surrounded Fen. He moved in a circle, keeping his gaze on the Sange rau, but his senses waiting for the attack from the werewolves. The rumbling growls grew louder, indicating the pack was working itself up to attack mode. Abel smirked, his black-stained, serrated teeth were stuck deep into his receding gums as he pulled the silver stake from his heart and tossed it to the ground at Fen’s feet.
“I have come to join this party,” a voice announced.
A Carpathian hunter strode out of the trees into the midst of the frenzied werewolves, drawing them away from Fen. Silver eyes slashed as he moved fast through their ranks, breaking necks and backs and then tossing the bodies aside.
I’m sorry. That’s Gregori Daratrazanoff, second to the prince and prime protector of the Carpathian people. He must have followed me here. I can’t flame the werewolves from the sky without burning Gregori alive.
As fast as Gregori was, the werewolves were faster, seeking new blood, hot and alive. They swarmed him, sheer numbers taking him down until he was buried beneath the frenzied bodies.
Cursing under his breath, Fen had no choice but to share his knowledge of all things rogue and the vampire/wolf combination with the hunter through the common Carpathian telepathic link. He knew he was putting himself at risk—the Carpathian could glean a tremendous amount of information about him as well in seconds. He had used the common pathway so rarely, he couldn’t be certain he had conveyed the speed and strength of the rogues, or the immense power of the Sange rau. As he passed on the information, Fen leapt into the fray, hurtling bodies off the prince’s guardian.
As Gregori struggled to stand, Abel struck hard and fast, rushing Fen, hitting him from behind and knocking him off his feet. Fen called on his Lycan blood, twisting in midair as he went down, shifting with lightning speed so that it was Lycan claws grasping Abel’s neck and yanking him down with him. His claws dug deep into the vampire’s neck, anchoring himself, his own muzzle growing to accommodate the expanse of teeth.
They rolled on the ground, Fen taking them away from the writhing mass of werewolves, his teeth tearing at Abel’s throat.
Gregori, get out of there! he warned as he tore into the Sange rau with the strong bite of the Lycan. Black blood poured over him, his muzzle, and down his neck and chest, burning like acid. The scent of burnt flesh permeated the air.
Abel screamed in horror and fear as Fen relentles
sly held him, uncaring that the undead ripped at his flesh and tore at his chest to get to his heart. He had to hold out until the undead became so terrified that he called to his pack. It was the only way to save Gregori from the vicious, voracious pack.
Fen drove one fist deep into Abel’s chest, claws searching for the withered, blackened heart, even as he continued to bite chunks of rotted flesh from the vampire/wolf.
“Kill this one. Leave the other. All of you, kill this one,” Abel screamed.
His voice was high-pitched and hurt the sensitive ears of the werewolves. They set up a terrible din, howling and screaming, as they reluctantly obeyed their leader. Out of the corner of his eye, Fen could see Gregori on the ground, still fighting off a particularly large werewolf who didn’t want to give up the rich blood of the Carpathian.
Above him, the blue dragon soared across the sky, circling around above the canopy to suddenly drop down with a steady stream of fire that engulfed several of the werewolves. She took great care to stay clear of Gregori. The tall werewolf ripping and tearing at him leapt without warning, without so much as turning his head, claws catching the underside of the blue dragon’s belly where he hung by his curved long nails alone.
The blue dragon retaliated with a curling of her long, spiked tail. It swept beneath her to hit the werewolf with a tremendous slap, the spikes driving in deep even as her great wings drove hard to lift her high above the canopy. The force of the blow knocked the rogue’s claws loose. For a moment he teetered, desperately raking at her belly for a better grip. The tail slapped him a second time, and with a sharp cry, he fell back to earth.
Blood dripped steadily from the wounded dragon, but she dove after the werewolf as he hurtled toward the ground, righting himself in order to better land on his feet. The werewolf looked up just as the wedge-shaped head shot toward him, bellowing fire as she trumpeted her pain and rage. Flames engulfed the wolf as he fell to the ground, landing hard. He leapt to his feet, legs clearly broken, but still, he ran screaming through the remaining pack, fanning the fire as he did so that the orange-red flames roared and grew larger.
The moment the werewolf had leapt to claw at the blue dragon, Gregori staggered to his feet, bleeding in dozens of places. He thrust his hand toward the rest of the rogue pack, setting a barrier between Fen and the werewolves, preventing them from rushing the hunter as he fought the powerful vampire/wolf cross. Some of the rogues turned back toward Gregori while others tore at the shield in an effort to go to the aid of their master.
The dead body of the drunken human jerked and moved, inching across the ground toward Gregori, the shadowy sliver of Bardolf working to find a live host to help his master.
Behind you! Tatijana warned.
The blue dragon circled back, large globs of blood falling from the sky as she banked and came in low. Gregori swung his head around, seeing the abomination of dead flesh digging fingernails into the earth to pull the body toward him.
I’ll burn it, but you have to get out of there, Tatijana warned.
Gregori made a valiant effort to get out of the line of fire, stumbling toward the pack trying to tear down the barrier between them and Fen. Fen and the Sange rau rolled across the shivering ground, neither letting go of their hold on the other. As Tatijana made her approach, the ground shifted and rocked, throwing Gregori down.
The earth shuddered, trembled and then beneath the surface, one side drove the other upward. Great cracks appeared. Trees split in half.
From her vantage point in the sky, Tatijana could see the huge zigzagging crack, a great yawning abyss opening and rocketing toward Fen and the vampire/wolf as their fierce battle continued.
Fen! Tatijana screamed his name in her mind, half warning, half sobbing.
She flamed the dead body jerking and clawing its way toward Gregori and continued diving straight down. Tucking her wings and dropping like a stone, she hurtled toward that widening crack just as it engulfed Fen and the Sange rau. Gregori leapt after them, just as the werewolves broke through the shield to get to their master. They tumbled into the narrow crack in their rush to get to the rogue leader.
Fen dropped through the crack, shoulders scraping on either side of the walls of dirt, roots and rock. He hung grimly onto Abel, claws digging deeper into the chest, determined to get to the heart even as he tore chunks from the vampire’s neck and throat. Neither could dissolve into vapor as their claws prevented the other from getting away.
Tatijana blasted past Gregori, wings still tucked tight against her body, as she dove after Fen. As she approached the two combatants, she stretched her neck as far as it would go, her giant, wedged-shaped head shoving itself up against the side of Abel’s head. She let loose a blast of fire, taking great care even as they were tumbling, to make certain she concentrated the exhale of flames only over the vampire’s skull.
Fen couldn’t help but admire her skill. She was still diving, moving fast, and he felt the blast of heat, but not one hint of flame touched him. Abel screamed, the sound horrible. The smell was worse. The earth began to close below them with ominous groans and creaks. The very planet seemed to shudder.
Let him go, Tatijana ordered. Right now, you have to let him go or we’ll all be killed. All three of us.
He was so close. His fingers were around that withered heart. He couldn’t quite yank it free. Abel’s too powerful to leave alive. I just have to get a better grip . . .
Tatijana used her triangular head to knock the vampire/wolf out of Fen’s hands. Abel dropped away, the wind fanning the flames totally engulfing his head. Tatijana used her long neck to wind around Fen, catching him before he could drop away. He caught the spines and pulled himself around until he could slide onto her back. Her wings braked their fall.
Fen looked up to see Gregori dropping fast, his bloody body ravaged and torn. He held out his hand. Gregori!
His hand caught Gregori’s wrist, Gregori’s fingers wrapped tightly around his. Fen dragged him onto the dragon’s back. He heard Gregori grunt in pain, but the hunter gripped him hard as the blue dragon made her valiant effort to outrun the closing of the earth. The walls scraped her wings, tearing chunks of skin from her. She cried out, but she continued the ascent.
Every werewolf she passed, most clinging to the dirt walls of the deep fissure, tried to claw and scrape at her, sometimes driving teeth into her in a desperate attempt to either impede her progress or hitch a ride. They were all trying to climb fast up those dirt walls before the crack closed all the way. Below them, both sides of the abyss accelerated the speed with which they were slamming closed.
Tatijana burst into the air above the gaping hole in the ground and nearly toppled from the sky. She landed awkwardly, her sides heaving just as the two sides of the crevasse jolted together with a terrible grinding sound. The blue dragon staggered forward in an effort to keep her passengers safe, leaving behind a thick trail of blood. She shuddered, stumbled and went down, the wedge-shaped head slamming hard and plowing through the soil as her body continued driving forward.
Tatijana! A woman’s cry filled Fen’s mind using his lifemate’s path to him. Torn. Frightened. Shocked. Is she dead? I’m coming to her.
He knew at once that voice was Branislava, Tatijana’s sister. Do not. I can heal her and protect her. Gregori is here as well, but not both of you. Trust me to do this.
Fen leapt from the dragon’s back, landing on his feet, the long distance jolting him hard. He glanced down at his body and was shocked to see the blood and chunks of gaping flesh where Abel had clawed, bit and raked him.
Branislava was in his mind for a moment drawing as much information about him as possible before she abruptly acquiesced. If you let anything happen to her I will hunt you for all your days until I destroy you.
I accept that.
He broke the connection between them as he rushed around the dragon’s body to the head and caught it in
his arms, bringing it up so the huge eyes stared into his.
“Shift, Tatijana. Shift right now. If you never ever obey me again in this lifetime, you do it this once. Shift for me now.” He poured everything he was into that command. His fear for her. His anger that he had allowed her to get hurt. His growing love. His respect. His need that she stay alive and stay with him.
Gregori jumped from her back, landing heavily, barely managing to stay on his feet. He staggered around the large body of the dragon to the head as well.
The great eyes of the dragon blinked and then closed, but Fen felt her body shudder with the effort to obey. He slipped into her mind. Consciousness was fading fast. Come to me, sívamet—my love. Give yourself to me. I will hold you safe.
There was one moment of uncertainty, as if she might not trust him enough to place herself so fully into his hands. He waited for her to make up her mind, although there was no time and his heart pounded so hard in his chest it sounded like thunder to him. She capitulated suddenly and he felt her let go, giving her spirit essence into his care.
Immediately the great blue dragon was gone and Tatijana’s body was in his arms. He didn’t wait. He tore open his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. He sank to the ground, holding her to him. Gregori went to his knees beside them. He immediately shed his wounded body and became pure light. He entered Tatijana’s body and began to work feverishly to stem the flow of blood. He didn’t stop, not even when two more hunters dove from the sky to aid them.
Jacques Dubrinsky, brother to the prince, and Falcon Amiras, an ancient hunter, looked around the battlefield. Some werewolves were beginning to stir. Some bodies were already regenerating.
“Tell us what to do to kill them,” Jacques said. “Nothing like coming late to the party.”
“Silver spikes. Drive them completely through their hearts and then remove the head of the rogue. Burn the bodies with the spikes in them,” Fen said.
Dark Lycan (Carpathian) Page 10