She had to work hard to get airborne with the injured Lycan in her talons and the wolf on her back. Two more tried to grip her tail, but she thrashed it hard and they fell away. Again, it was Zev who came to her aid. He threw a knife, and just like the stake, the throw was done with deadly accuracy. The wolf on her back grunted hard and fell away, leaving her to rise easily. She circled, watching for her chance as the Lycans fought their way to the porch.
With so many defenders, the few werewolves who had tried to gain entrance into the house abandoned the small confines for the yard. Tatijana tucked Lykaon close to her body and once more dove, spraying a steady stream of flames through the pack, setting most on fire. Just as in the front yard, the burning wolves retreated, rolling to try to put out flames while the hunters emerged and did their best to destroy as many as possible.
Tatijana landed in the front yard, grateful that Daciana and Destiny ran to take the fallen Lycan from her. She was weak, exhausted and bleeding. The moment she shifted, her knees nearly gave out.
Destiny glanced at her over her shoulder while she and Daciana half carried Lykaon toward the house. “You all right? Can you make it?”
Tatijana nodded. The werewolves were on the run, but it wasn’t safe. Nearly every defender had been wounded, many of them seriously. She knew many members of the rogue pack would linger to try to get in as many kills as possible. She forced her shaky legs to work and made it to the porch just as Gregori and Jacques emerged, startling her. Jacques immediately reached his arm out her to steady her.
Both men looked as if they’d been in a war zone. They were covered in wounds and blood, Gregori especially. She couldn’t see how he could still be standing. He had to be in pain, but there was only purpose etched into his face.
Gregori flung open the door to the house. “Where is he?”
The wounded lay, sat or stood waiting for Shea’s attention. Joie, Destiny and Daciana began to help her attend them. Shea looked up the moment they entered. Jacques helped Tatijana to a chair and went immediately to his lifemate.
“Are you all right?” Zev asked.
Tatijana nodded. “I lost a little blood. I’m not nearly as bad as the rest of you.”
“We got our asses handed to us,” Zev said with a sigh. “This pack is very large. Too large. It doesn’t make sense.” He looked around the room. “Where’s Fen?”
Tatijana let out her breath slowly. “They hit us in three different locations. At first we thought just the farm, but then when we discovered the pack had been divided into thirds, we divided our forces. Fen has experience fighting them, so he went on to the third location.”
Zev nodded. “Makes sense.” He looked around at the wounded. “Where’s Gary? He saved my life and I wanted to thank him.”
There was a small pregnant silence. Shea looked at Gregori and shook her head. “I did what I could. He’s holding on to see you.”
Gregori strode into the room Shea indicated. It smelled of death and blood. Gabrielle, Joie’s sister, sat beside Gary, holding his hand. There were tears on her face. Gary was gray, pain edging every line.
His eyes met Gregori’s.
“You look like hell,” Gregori greeted.
Gary tried a smile that didn’t quite come off. “You look the same.” Even his voice was no longer his own, but a mere thread.
Gregori stood over Gary, his silver eyes nearly liquid. “You have accepted our way of life, my brother. You are jaguar, which means you can become one of us.”
Gary shook his head.
Gabrielle gasped. “I don’t understand. Why are you even hesitating? Gregori can save you this way.”
Gregori gently moved her away from the fallen man. He put his hand over Gary’s very gently. “He knows the human perspective will be lost once he becomes Carpathian and so far, that perspective has served us well.” He knelt beside Gary, leaning close. “I will do what I can, and give you my blood, but know this, you are my brother-kin. I do not lose kin easily. If I see this will not work, protest or not, I will convert you. Do you understand?”
Gary managed a nod. He closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness. Gregori sank to the floor beside him and quickly shed his body to begin the work of healing the man who had been more of a brother to him than his blood brothers.
11
From his vantage point above the Dubrinsky home, Fen studied every detail carefully. There was a feel to the mountain that made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t tell if it was an actual defense in place, a safeguard, or the Sange rau were already well ahead of him. He allowed his senses to flare out, reaching beyond the boundaries he’d always imposed on himself.
Being Sange rau could be dangerous, much more so the more often one used the incredible gifts. Arrogance and superiority were treacherous, insidious traits, threatening the very moral fiber of one’s beliefs. Without Tatijana to keep him grounded, Fen knew the things he had done and would do this day were inherently risky.
Carpathians were born of the earth. Most of their safeguards were woven from natural things and reinforced with spells from the mages when the two species had been close. There were always psychic footprints. No one could move or breathe without expending some energy, and Carpathians were very good at feeling or seeing it.
Lycans were born of the earth as well. Both species epitomized both ends of the spectrum. They were predators, fast and ferocious. They enjoyed the battle and both had a taste for blood. On the other hand, they were loyal and dedicated to their mates and children. Both species put honor and integrity high on their list of attributes. They were willing to sacrifice for the better of their species.
Both species embraced the night. Both read the wind. And both were gifted with tremendous powers. There had always been a balance. As many gifts that both species had, each had weaknesses. The Sange rau didn’t have such a balance and that could be a very bad thing.
Fen continued to scan the mountain behind the Dubrinsky home as well as the surrounding forest and clearing around it. He took his time, patient as always. Often in a battle, the first to move was the first to die. He was facing not one, but two Sange rau. It was often the little things that gave one an advantage. He knew from experience nature spoke to him if he just listened.
His connection to Mother Nature was stronger than ever and each small shift of the wind brought him information he might not have picked up on. Small nuances, but now they told such stories. There were ripples running over the ground leading to Mikhail Dubrinsky’s home. He could see them, as if they were tides ebbing and flowing in the sea.
Around the house itself, up and down the stone walls and even beyond to the mountain where the structure was built into it, thousands of symbols and patterns ran like an endless loop. It looked a bit like the code on a computer, moving fast and changing rapidly. It would be impossible for a vampire or a Carpathian or even a Lycan to read it that fast. But he was none of those things and neither was the enemy he was hunting. The Sange rau could process that fast.
Scattered throughout the ground surrounding the house from every direction, he spotted disturbances in the earth. He wasn’t certain whether he saw those because he had mixed blood and heightened senses, or if his connection to Mother Earth provided the information. Nevertheless, the traps were revealed to him and he had to believe they would be to his enemy as well.
Another small shift in the wind brought another scent he recognized instantly. Dimitri. Are you insane? You cannot come here. You should be in the earth, healing.
Little brothers were the very devil. Dimitri had always gone his own way, even as a child. He was stubborn and made up his own mind about things. It wasn’t that he ever argued. He was quiet about his stubbornness. He simply did what he thought was right.
Did you really think I’d let you come here alone and face these killing machines? Dimitri asked, taking the offensive, which was another
trait Fen remembered from when his brother was a child.
Dimitri materialized out of the sky, right beside him. He looked pale, almost translucent, but as tough and as implacable as ever. When Dimitri made up his mind to do something, it took a miracle to change it.
“You never did have any sense,” Fen answered, but he was secretly proud of Dimitri. His brother was the type of warrior to find a way, no matter how injured, to come to his aid, especially when the battle looked hopeless. “You know we’ll be lucky to come out of this alive.”
“When has it been any other way?” Dimitri asked.
“They’re after the prince,” Fen pointed out. “This place is a death trap for vampires, but it isn’t going to stop either of the Sange rau. If I can see the traps and safeguards, they will be able to as well.”
Dimitri studied the ground below him. “Just how much of your blood is running in my veins?”
Fen frowned. “Why? Can you see the traps, too?”
“Not exactly. I know something’s there. And I feel the mountain’s off. Different. It feels like a living, breathing sentry to me.”
Fen pressed his fingers to his eyes. “I didn’t trust anyone else to heal you properly. I should have had Tatijana give you her blood. Mine is . . . tainted. Over the centuries, we’ve shared blood so many times . . .”
“Your blood is just fine,” Dimitri said. He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I’ve always known I would end up like you. Lycan and Carpathian. It’s meant to be. I run with the wolves. I understand them. I always have.”
“The Lycans will condemn you to death. You know I have to go to ground each full moon to avoid detection. And what of your lifemate?” Fen turned to look his brother in the eye. “That woman is the most powerful psychic I’ve ever encountered. She crossed a continent to heal you. I don’t know very many powerful ancients who can do that.”
Dimitri smiled for the first time. “She’s amazing.”
“Yet you haven’t claimed her.”
“Her father wants me to wait until she’s at least twenty-five.”
Fen raised an eyebrow and then turned back to studying the Dubrinsky stronghold for signs Abel and Bardolf had already unraveled the safeguards. He couldn’t imagine his brother living by anyone else’s rules. “And you’re abiding by that?”
“Skyler and I have an understanding. When she’s ready, she’ll let me know. If she isn’t twenty-five, well, hopefully her father and uncles will let me live.” There was only the slightest trace of humor in Dimitri’s voice. “She was adopted by Francesca and Gabriel Daratrazanoff.”
Fen swung around to stare at his brother in shock. “The legends? As in Gabriel and Lucian Daratrazanoff? They’re alive? And Gabriel is her father?”
“That would be the one.”
“Any chance he’s not all that fond of her?” Fen asked.
“He adores her.”
“Of course he does.” In spite of the perilous situation they were in, Fen found himself grinning. “You shouldn’t worry about this little fight we’re about to enter, because your woman’s daddy is going to tear you limb from limb.”
“Don’t sound so pleased.” Dimitri nudged him. “You’re my brother. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Maybe your only chance is to become fully Sange rau,” Fen said, half meaning it. He nodded toward the eastern side of the mountain behind the Dubrinsky’s house. “Do you see that? A shadow slipping along the cracks. He’s moving fast, too, but staying in the crevices and cracks. That’s Bardolf. So where’s Abel?”
“Someone’s just emerging out of the forest. It looks like Gregori’s here to defend Mikhail,” Dimitri announced. “Over there, he’s stopped and is looking around. The man has always been careful when it comes to Mikhail’s protection. I’m not surprised he’s here.”
Fen didn’t answer. He turned his attention to Gregori and the minefield in front of him. Gregori was a striking figure in anyone’s war. Tall, with broad shoulders and a thick muscular chest, with his long black hair drawn back and his strange silver eyes, he looked a frightening figure with his immaculate clothes and his confident air.
Where was Abel? Would the Sange rau allow Mikhail’s guardian to remain unharmed? Mikhail and Gregori had a powerful bond. Together they could destroy nearly any enemy, even a mixed blood if they were allowed the time to initiate their complete sovereignty together. Abel would know that and he would move heaven and earth to stop Gregori.
Gregori walked toward the house. Except he didn’t walk, he floated, avoiding the traps on the ground. He veered away from the structure and advanced toward the mountain the back of the house was built into. That had to be where Mikhail was. A mountain could provide all kinds of securities and ways to escape. Gregori went straight to the entrance and began the complicated unraveling of the safeguards so he could enter.
Fen found himself frowning as he shifted his gaze to the shadowy figure of Bardolf a few hundred feet above Gregori. He should have been leaping on the guardian, but instead, he was still keeping to the cracks and crevices as he made his way down.
Something’s not right, Dimitri, he whispered into his brother’s mind.
Alarm thundered in his very blood. He could hear it roaring in his ears. His heart beat even harder. He knew something was wrong.
Other than the shadow you’ve already spotted, everything is as it should be. There was a question in Dimitri’s tone. If Fen said something was off, he believed him, he just couldn’t see it.
It’s Gregori.
Dimitri narrowed his eyes and focused on the Carpathian. He looks fine to me.
Exactly. And he shouldn’t look fine. He was attacked at the farm. Viciously. Totally targeted by the pack. He’s torn up. No one, not even Gregori could recoup this fast.
So I’m looking at?
That has to be Abel. Fen caught his brother’s forearms in a tight grip. Bardolf is fast. You won’t be able to kill him, but do as much damage as fast as you can. Use everything you have in your arsenal and stay out of his reach. He’s not only vampire, but he’s werewolf. Stay alive, brother.
Dimitri gripped Fen hard. I expect to see you in one piece when this is over.
Fen couldn’t let himself think about his brother and how terribly injured he’d been. Dimitri was a grown man, an ancient warrior who had been in countless battles. He was courageous and he definitely was skilled. Fen had passed every bit of knowledge he had on the Sange rau to his brother in the hopes that would aid him should he ever have to fight one. Dimitri already had heightened senses, proving Fen had given him a good amount of mixed blood. Now it was up to fate.
Like we practiced. Exactly like we practiced. You know how to do this.
Dimitri nodded. Like we practiced.
Fen had to trust he’d prepared his brother for this day. He stepped off the cliff and shifted, his Carpathian/Lycan blood masking all energy as he streaked through the sky to drop down behind Abel just as the safeguards came down. Abel stepped cautiously into the entrance to the mountain. As he did, a Carpathian male came down the wide tunnel leading deeper under the mountain to greet the prince’s guardian.
“Gregori, I thought you were at the house healing Gary. We expected you’d stay with him.”
Gregori didn’t reply, but kept quickly striding toward the Carpathian.
Fen struck hard, driving his hand, silver stake firmly in his fist, through Abel’s back, seeking the heart. The Carpathian male raced down the corridor to come to Gregori’s aid.
Abel, using the enormous speed and strength of the Sange rau, leapt forward, dislodging Fen’s fist. He spun around and attacked, dropping the façade of Gregori, aggressively slamming his fist into Fen’s chest. As he did, his muzzle grew and he clamped his teeth over Fen’s shoulder, the bite pressure enormous, tearing through muscle down to the bone.
Vikirnoff Von Shriede
r was shocked by few things, but the monster attacking was no ordinary vampire. He’d gotten through intricate safeguards as if the locks weren’t even in place. He’d looked and smelled just like Gregori. Carpathians had such an acute sense of smell they could place one another by blood alone, and Vikirnoff would have sworn he had been talking to Gregori.
He’d never seen anything move as fast as the two men fighting in the corridor. He felt like he was watching a fight scene on television in fast-forward. Hands and feet, shifting, and moving, the two combatants slammed into the rock walls and hit the high ceiling with neither giving an inch. He couldn’t help. There was no way to get off a weapon, they were moving too fast.
Mikhail, are you seeing this? Vikirnoff had never been afraid in a fight, not even when facing a master vampire. He always figured he had even odds. He was a skilled fighter and had been battling for centuries, but he’d never in his life seen opponents like these.
I believe you are looking at the true Sange rau Fen told us of. Mikhail studied the two combatants. He was correct in saying we have never faced an enemy such as this one. Mikhail’s voice had little inflection in it. He was merely stating a truth.
Vikirnoff drew his bow and pulled out a silver arrow. All of them were armed against an attack by the rogue pack. He doubted he could get the arrow off where it could do any good, but just in case the monster got through Fen, he was determined to stand between it and the prince.
Mikhail, he had a perfect image of Gregori in every way. He even smelled like Gregori’s blood. And he blew through the safeguards as if they weren’t even there.
Clearly our safeguards are for the vampire and not this new enemy. Again, the prince’s tone was matter-of-fact. He had to have known that the Sange rau had come for him, but he seemed more interested in studying the way the creature fought. They are almost too fast for even our eyes to keep up with.
Dark Lycan (Carpathian) Page 21