Dark Wolf

11

I think we’re nearly in the clear, Skyler, Dimitri whispered softly into her mind. You’re so amazing. Thank you for giving me your trust.

That light right in the center of the warmth he had surrounded and protected so diligently there in the nether world glowed just a bit brighter. She hadn’t retreated. She’d fought to stay with him. She just had to hang on a little bit longer.

He sensed how weary she was. She had accepted the pain, allowing it to flow through her, not once trying to fight or resist. They were bound together, intertwined tightly, both feeling the pain rising like a wave and crashing over them. He concentrated on breathing for both of them, pushing air through her lungs, through his lungs.

If this lasted much longer he would lose her. Fen has arrived. He is somewhere close. I know, because Tatijana—your sister-kin—heals my body even as I am with you in yours.

The pain was worse than ever, robbing him of breath, of the ability to think for a long moment. He couldn’t compartmentalize it for her. He couldn’t distance either one of them from it. The agony really was as bad or worse than the silver snaking its way through his system, burning him from the inside out. Her body shuddered with the memory of it.

Strangely, instead of dimming, the light in the very center of her warmth stretched out, spreading through the darkness there in the icy cold world, reaching for his light. Comforting him? Only Skyler, on the very edge of death, already in another world, would think to reach out to him. She had come for him when he thought there was no hope. Against all odds, she had stayed for him, when he doubted any other would have done so under the circumstances.

The wave subsided, and he sensed that it was the right time to attempt to reunite body and spirit. Dimitri surrounded Skyler’s warmth and began to move very slowly away from the icy darkness.

Come with me now, csitri. Your spirit cannot be away from your body for too long. I must take you back.

His light moved, but that small warm consciousness that was Skyler didn’t. She stayed hovering in the limbs of the tree of life. The moment his spirit ceased to touch hers, the light in the very center of her warmth dimmed and then flickered on and off as if she couldn’t keep the spark going without him.

His heart jerked. He had nearly lost her. He forced calm. He needed to be confident and sure. Skyler needed to know she could rely on him through anything. Once again he surrounded her with his light, stopping to examine what held her in the nether world.

Just a few more minutes in the dark and cold, Skyler. I’m with you. You aren’t alone, he assured her. She never would be again. If she couldn’t make it out of the darkness with him, back into her own body, he would go with her to light her way to wherever the next life was.

Her spirit seemed caught in the branches and he had to pause to figure out how to get her free. It was only then that he realized Skyler had somehow attached herself to the branches. She was a daughter of the earth and the tree of life had recognized her great need.

Release her to me, Dimitri murmured softly. I give thanks to you for holding her for me, but we need her back in our world.

He didn’t have the skill Skyler did when it came to communicating with all things earth, but he had sincerity. He opened himself up to attack from the greedy creatures waiting below in the darkness, crouched, just waiting for an unsuspecting soul to drift down, unaware of the danger lurking in the dark. He knew what was down there, but still, he wanted the tree of life to understand his great need.

The moment he opened his mind there in the nether world, he heard and felt the blast of greed and hatred coming at him from every direction. He remained where he was, his light surrounding Skyler’s warmth, between the upper branches. Below him, he detected the sounds of the living dead clawing their way up the tree toward him.

He was Hän ku pesäk kaikak, and he would not falter. His spirit was bright, and he had newfound hope that his lifemate would not leave him. Tatijana, a Dragonseeker and sister-kin to Skyler, was above ground, guarding their bodies. He felt her strength and her brightness, that white-hot light of healing.

Skyler, sívamet, my heart and soul, come back to me. The worst is over. Let me help you return to the land of the living. He kept his voice calm, soothing, refusing to hurry her, or frighten her.

He had committed an unpardonable sin in possessing her body, but he felt no remorse. He had gone through the conversion, ensuring, if he could bring her back, that her Carpathian body waited and would heal naturally beneath the earth.

They were bound together, soul to soul. After what he had done, they would be bound mind to mind. She had trusted him, given her permission, but she hadn’t known the consequences. He hadn’t been able to give her up and he’d chosen for both of them. She would be as he was eventually—mixed blood—and their minds would be forever connected.

That should have been the worst of the sacrifices, but she would have to live with the knowledge of every single kill he’d ever made. The sorrow and guilt of hunting friends would weigh on an empath like Skyler. She would know his every dark secret, all those endless years after he had discovered he had a lifemate. He had fought the crouching darkness on each rising, but still, she would know how truly difficult it had been. He wouldn’t be able to shield her from those terrible nights. Most lifemates left those memories alone; she wouldn’t have that choice.

The tree vibrated, a subtle movement, and then shook a little harder as if attempting to dislodge her. He felt her warmth push against his light, and then into it. The moment they merged, he began the climb.

That’s my girl. There’s nothing to fear. Except perhaps an entire Lycan army surrounding them, but he refused to think about that. Tatijana’s presence meant Fen was there. Fen would fight with his last breath to save them. He would have brought others with him.

He still felt Skyler’s warmth and the small light that was her very essence flickered valiantly, but she needed blood and she needed to go to ground—if he could get her back into a body her spirit might not recognize after the conversion.

I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are to me. Not just your looks, but what I see inside of you, and that was before I knew how courageous you were. You came for me, Skyler, and even when I was foolish and tried to turn you away, you refused to give up on us.

He wouldn’t give up on her. He was prepared to do anything, fight any battle. No matter if the act was forbidden or not, if he could get her back, he would humble himself, put himself in any kind of jeopardy or fight any battle to save her.

Can you hear me, csitri? You cannot leave me. I have such need of you.

He felt no shame in pleading. She showed no outward signs of growing stronger. Her light was exactly the same, but it was there. She couldn’t have lost her way in the other world as some souls had done, because she had been anchored to the top branches of the tree.

Dimitri didn’t yet know if she had pleaded her cause and asked for aid, or if the tree recognized her as a daughter of the earth and had stepped in to save her. He wanted to believe, even in her dying moment, Skyler had thought to secure herself to those upper branches in the certain knowledge that he would come for her.

They floated together to the very surface. This was his moment. Could he bring her warm spirit and faltering light back into her body? He kept his movements gentle, his voice calm. He didn’t want her to feel fear or experience any more trauma than she already had. If he could stay calm and instill his belief that both of them would be fine, she might take this transition as entirely natural and not try to retreat from him.

She had been more than aware of her body dying, of the pain of conversion, but she hadn’t let go. She had stayed with him, clinging to life when it should have been impossible. He was beginning to realize, with Skyler, all things were possible.

I have always been secretly amused that others continually underestimated you, my love, he confessed, but I have found these last few nights have taught me that even I underestimate you and your strength.

For the first time, he felt the familiar stirring in his mind, that beloved touch that signaled the love of his life had ever so gently merged with him. How she found the strength when there was so little blood left in her body, he didn’t know.

Dimitri.

His body came to life. His heart. His soul. That gentle touch, the brush of her voice across the scars in his mind held so much love he ached inside. She set up cravings with her soft gentle ways. Hunger. She found a well of tenderness in him that had been buried and forgotten for centuries.

You scared me, he admitted. You can never do this again.

She didn’t reply in words, the effort to talk even telepathically was too much in her weakened state, but she stroked a caress over the sorrow and fear he’d been holding inside.

You must reenter your body, Skyler. It will be uncomfortable and there will be pain again, but not like we experienced before. He instilled absolute confidence in his voice, and kept it uppermost in his mind, although deep inside he was afraid she might balk.

There was a flutter against the walls of his mind, as gentle as the gossamer wings of a butterfly. You?

Every step of the way. I will hold you. You’ll never be alone, not in that dark cold world or the one above where we face war and persecution.

She would know what he meant. If she chose to return to the other world, he would follow her. As much as he would love to retaliate against the Lycans for what they’d done to her, nothing was more important to him than Skyler.

She astonished him once again, her light glowing a little brighter, stretching more to finally touch his. He felt her immediately. She was there, her indomitable spirit, as determined as ever.

Again he took his time, uncaring that he was starving and that bringing her back from the land of the dead had taken its toll on him. He’d suffered every moment of the conversion right with her, yet now that she was alive and willing to return to her own body, the terrible exhaustion that had settled in him seemed to disappear.

His spirit escorted hers to her battered body. Skyler didn’t hesitate as he expected, she simply united her spirit with her body, settling into her own skin with a small shiver. He stayed with her, afraid to leave her too soon. He’d been in three places, her body, his and the other world for far too long and was beginning to feel the effects of such a division.

I will not leave you, Dimitri, she reassured him.

He thought she whispered the words into his mind, but maybe he only heard what he wished. She was already fading, slipping into unconsciousness. Heart pounding hard, he checked her. Not death. She was ready to accept the healing earth.

He found himself back in his own body. Tatijana and Josef had removed the silver and the agonizing burn throughout his body was gone. He opened his eyes and looked around him, needing to see Skyler, needing to know he wasn’t hallucinating, that she was really there and alive.

She looked so pale, so ravaged by the bullets, blood staining her clothing and even caught in her hair. But she was alive and she was beautiful. The soil beneath them had sunk, taking their bodies nearly a foot and a half down. Black loam, rich with minerals, had packed itself all around them, between their legs and even forming a thin blanket over them.

Again he heard the call of Mother Earth. He took a deep breath and turned his head, knowing Tatijana was close.

“You’re back with us,” she greeted. “You’ve accomplished what no other has done that I’ve heard of. You brought her back.”

“It was a fight. She needs to go to ground.”

“You both do. But first you’ll need to feed.”

He nodded. He knew she was right. Hunger beat at him now, stronger than ever. “Before anything else . . .” He looked around him, his gaze settling on Josef and Paul.

Paul lay on the ground, his expression set in lines of pain, but he made no sound. Josef sat close to him, and both were staring with apprehension at Skyler.

“She’s alive,” Dimitri announced. “Back with us, and I have you two to thank. You saved my life and then hers. I can never repay the great debt I owe you.”

“She’s alive?” Paul asked. “Really alive? She’s not moving. She doesn’t even look as if she’s breathing.”

“You’ve seen Carpathians slipping into rejuvenating sleep,” Dimitri said. “I’ll command her to sleep, ensure she doesn’t wake until she’s healed enough to get out of this place.”

Paul pushed the hair back from his face and quickly averted his head, but not before Dimitri caught the sheen of tears.

“I didn’t think it was possible,” Josef admitted. His voice wobbled, but he refused to look away from Dimitri’s penetrating gaze.

“You were the one who told me she wasn’t dead,” Dimitri reminded with a weary grin. “You said to go after her and I did.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Josef said, a slow, answering grin pushing through the weight of his fear and sorrow. “But I honestly thought it was bull and you’d never be able to bring her back.”

“It was all Skyler,” Dimitri said. “She’s strong. She found a way to stop herself, even in death, from moving too far away from me.”

“Because she has such faith in you,” Josef replied. He rubbed both hands over his face. “I never want to go through that again. Can you put her in a basement wrapped in Bubble Wrap so Paul and I don’t have to worry about her anymore?”

“An excellent idea,” Dimitri said.

Tatijana nudged him gently. “You need to feed and then go to ground. We’ll be safe here for the time being. I checked carefully and there are no weak points that I can find.”

Dimitri forced himself to move, to look around. The transparent structure allowed him to the see the Lycans, who appeared to be watching something other than the Carpathians. “Where’s Fen?”

Tatijana put a restraining hand on his arm. Only then did he realize he had begun to struggle to his feet.

“Fen is backing Zev, trying to find answers. I’m only getting glimpses of what is happening. Sword fights, snipers, two Lycans battling for position of alpha in the pack, that sort of thing. I’d say he was busy,” she replied.

Dimitri subsided, although he didn’t like his brother out there alone with the Lycans. He had known many of them and liked them, but he didn’t trust any of them anymore. “Did someone get word to Gregori that the prince may be in danger?”

“The moment Skyler died . . .” Tatijana broke off. “Everyone felt that terrible moment. She reached out to Francesca. Gregori will ensure the prince is safe.”

Dimitri let out his breath. He couldn’t think anymore. “Thank you for removing the silver from my body.” He turned his head to include Josef. “Both of you.”

Byron offered his wrist. “You’ll need to be at full strength when Skyler wakes. We may have to fight our way out of here.”

Dimitri took the offer, his hunger overcoming his need to see to everyone’s safety. He couldn’t do much in his weakened condition. He was careful not to take too much from Byron, no matter how tempting it was. He wanted the other males at full strength to make certain they could fight should the Lycans find a way in.

Vlad offered next. With the second feeding, Dimitri’s body settled, the edge off just enough that he could gather Skyler into his arms, holding what appeared to be her lifeless body close. Tatijana blurred the background around them, making it impossible for prying eyes to see what he did next.

Waving his hand he opened the ground, taking Skyler deep, floating down into the very arms of Mother Earth. At once, even before he gave the command for Skyler to fall into the rejuvenating sleep of the Carpathians, the soil poured over them of its own accord, cradling them both in warm, loving arms.

Fen, Dimitri and Skyler are safe in the ground. Dawn will be breaking soon. We all have to follow them soon. Can you make it back to us? Tatijana asked. She kept the little catch out of her voice, the one that acknowledged she knew he probably wouldn’t be with her throughout the day, but somewhere alone and in danger.

Zev’s in trouble, Tatijana. The outer ring of Lycans have circled the inner ring. Those inside support Zev. The outer ring—and there are more of them—support Gunnolf. I think there’s going to be a bloodbath here. I can’t leave Zev to fight alone.

Don’t get killed, Tatijana ordered.

Fen sent Tatijana reassurance, but he couldn’t move from his position and he wanted Zev to answer him, to realize just how much trouble he was in. With an army of renegade Lycans surrounding the pack loyal to Zev, the situation looked grim for the elite hunter.

The sniper put his eye to the scope once more and Fen struck from behind, grasping his head and wrenching it around, breaking the neck. He plunged a silver stake through the heart, severed the head and left him there in the tree.

I can start picking them off, one by one, Zev, but there are a good number of them and we won’t last forever.

The ferocious fight between Gunnolf and Zev continued. Gunnolf several times glanced up in the direction of the tree where the dead sniper was positioned, clearly expecting a shot to ring out. The large oaf of a Lycan maneuvering his way behind Zev had finally gotten himself in place. All Gunnolf had to do was drive Zev back and the other Lycan could kill him from behind.

Fen flinched when the two combatants hit the ground so hard it shook. They rolled, snarling and punching, tearing at each other. He cloaked his presence and used the doubled speed of both Carpathian and Lycan to cross the meadow and once again insert himself in the crowd.

Tatijana, this is going to go bad for Zev very fast. Those loyal to him are surrounded by Gunnolf’s army.

What you need, wolf man, is a dragon in the sky.

True, but they have guns.

And we have shields.

The crowd pushed closer to the combatants, ringing the two males as they fought for supremacy. The great bulk of a Lycan surged forward with feigned eagerness. Up close, using his mixed-blood senses, Fen read cold and calculating in the closed-in energy field surrounding the assassin. This was a man used to committing assassinations. Killing Zev wasn’t personal to him, but his job, a duty to perform, nothing else. He took pride in his work, and he wouldn’t stop until Zev was dead.

Zev drove Gunnolf to the ground over and over, each time the other male tried to leap to his feet. The punches increased in strength each time Gunnolf refused to submit. Realizing he was in trouble, Gunnolf rolled away from Zev, attempting to conceal a small blade in his fist as he managed to get his feet under him in a crouch.

Those closest to him saw and reacted with a roar of rage. In a challenge fight, two males fought bare-handed. Gunnolf clearly wasn’t following the rules. Zev feigned a kick at the knife hand and went in low, driving for Gunnolf’s head. He locked his arm around the Lycan’s neck and spun, bringing the head up over his shoulder behind him. Gunnolf hung there for a moment, but the crack was loud and his body stiffened and then went limp.

The crowd went silent as Zev dropped the lifeless body onto the ground. He palmed a silver stake and drove it down hard, directly through the heart of the fallen Lycan.

The crowd roared approval. Zev slowly straightened. As he did, the assassin made his move. He shuffled forward with others around him, gawking, seemingly trying to get a look at the dead body of Gunnolf. The moment he was close to Zev, his entire demeanor changed. There was nothing awkward about him. He was fast and smooth, keeping his knife low and covered with his fist, driving the poisoned blade straight at Zev’s kidney.

Fen caught him from behind, twisted him around, his grip like steel, thumb digging into the pressure point of the wrist, exposing the knife and the assassin’s intent. Zev spun around to face the killer. He caught the dagger as it fell from paralyzed fingers. Fen let the assassin go, and Zev stepped forward into the man’s attack, plunging the silver blade into the heart.

A hot breath of fire swept over the crowd. Everyone looked up. There were three dragons in the sky, all circling around for a run at them. The lead dragon was blue, the neck elongated, stretched toward that outer circle of Lycans. Fire rained down, a steady stream that burned the fur on the Lycans’ heads and shoulders.

Tatijana had learned from previous clashes just how high a wolf could jump. Her blue dragon was in the lead, staying high enough to keep out of harm’s way, yet low enough to singe fur. The dragons circled the outer ring of Lycans, flames shooting down in long, steady streams. The Lycans broke formation, abandoning whatever plans they had to kill Zev’s force.

The Lycans scattered, a few dropping to their knees to take aim at the impressive sight of dragons in the sky. They fired off several rounds, but the bullets seemed to bounce off the tough scales of the dragons. When the creatures flew over for another fiery pass, the rest of the Lycans took to the forest, sheltering beneath the canopy of the taller trees.

“I see you’re still hanging around that woman,” Zev observed. He hadn’t moved a muscle when the dragons flew over, spraying the Lycan ranks with fire. “I can understand why you want to hang with her, but seriously, what does she see in you?”

Fen grinned at him. “I’m smart enough to always play the hero, unlike you, who seems to get into trouble every time you open your eyes.”

“You like to play with fire, don’t you?” Zev asked with a wry grin. He had warned Fen more than once that a relationship with a Carpathian woman was trouble—forbidden even. The council had decreed centuries earlier that all Lycans should avoid Carpathians so there was no chance of creating the dreaded Sange rau.

“Ha ha. You’re very funny,” Fen retorted. As far as Zev knew, Fen was Lycan. He might understand Fen’s attraction to Tatijana, but he couldn’t condone a union.

Zev nudged Gunnolf’s body with the toe of his boot. “The really sad thing is, I liked him. I’ve known him for years.” He looked up at Fen. “What the hell is going on?”

Fen nodded toward Gunnolf. “I’ll ask him.”

Zev shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. I respect you as a fighter, Fen. I’ve told you that before. I can’t understand why you’re not running an elite pack, but questioning a dead Lycan, even for someone as strong as you, is not a good idea.”

Fen shrugged. “One of us has to do it, and I’m more expendable than you are.” And he had a lifemate, waiting to pull him back from the edge. It wouldn’t be his first time extracting information from a dead Lycan. Zev was right, it had been dangerous, but Tatijana was powerful and she would never fail to pull him back. He had complete faith in her.

Zev shook his head and made a movement toward his lifeless opponent. Fen was there before him, grasping the head between his two hands. The Lycan became aware of him almost instantly and mentally fought him, desperate to protect his secret. Black hatred poured over and into Fen. Rage took hold, a violent, churning cauldron of such fury that Fen’s body shook with it. The emotions of the dead wolf, still active in his brain, found a new home in Fen.

As if a great distance away, Fen heard Zev cursing, knew he’d drawn his sword and was close, very close. His hatred spread to the elite hunter like an infection. Why should he have to put up with the scout’s orders? Why, each time Zev returned to the pack, did Gunnolf have to relinquish authority?

Zev was a traitor. He mingled with the Carpathians. He danced with one of them, clearly smitten. He’d allowed the woman to enter his mind, take his blood. Every member of the pack knew he was pining for her. He had even committed the biggest sin of all—he’d argued that there was a difference between Dimitri—their prisoner—and any other Sange rau.

Worse, Zev had sided with Dimitri and had even given him blood. The Sange rau should have died within three days. Everyone who had ever been sentenced to the Moarta de argint had succumbed to the pain and writhed and moved until the silver had managed to pierce their heart. Not once had there been a survivor beyond the third day, yet Dimitri had lasted over two weeks. Zev had to have been helping him.

The Sange rau was weak, dying. They had a chance to destroy the monster. It was the woman with him who had somehow, through a dark practice, managed to protect the abomination. Revulsion spread like cancer. A disgust and loathing like no other. They had the scent of her blood, it permeated the meadow and the very air itself. She had to die. Her very existence was an outrage to humanity. What if the Sange rau began breeding? They had to be stopped. It was a sacred mission.

Kill. Kill. Kill him. Kill her. They both have to die. Kill Zev. He should die with the monsters, the abomination. Kill them all. The chant was loud in his mind, echoing through his veins with a need and hunger that shook him.

Fen let the savage emotion wash through him, but he refused to stay there and wallow in it as Gunnolf wanted. The Lycan would trap him there or Fen would be forced to leave to prevent the intensity of the hatred and rage from consuming him.

The feelings of superiority helped. The emotion flooded his mind and Fen caught at the opinion and nurtured it. He was more than Gunnolf. More than Zev. He was Guardian, and this Lycan who wished to trap him for all time in the black mire of prejudice and hatred would not do so. Fen was too strong to be ensnared by the Lycan. Too intelligent.

He was ruthless, refusing to back down but searching through the memories to find a thread that would lead him back to Gunnolf’s master. The Lycan reeked of fanaticism. His emotions were fiery, intense—and he believed in his cause with a single-minded purpose.

War. They had to wipe out the Carpathians to stop the spread of the mixed bloods. All Lycans who refused to join them, who frowned on the sacred code, would be wiped from the face of the earth as well. They were enemies of the great council—the great ones who had kept them alive and thriving for centuries. Those past moral compasses were slowly being forgotten or deliberately pushed aside by the new council who only wanted their own glory.

The zeal of devotion permeated every move and memory that Gunnolf had. It was difficult to find a single thread to get back to the one master who fed his extreme fervor. Fen couldn’t stay much longer. The intolerance and radicalism was slowly eating at him, threatening to consume him in spite of his strength. He’d never encountered such vehemence.

It wasn’t necessarily that Gunnolf was a bad man. He believed passionately that he was right. There was no other way, no other room for any other’s beliefs. He would not only die for his cause, but would kill for it. Those who opposed him were the enemy and not fit to walk the same earth.

The vehemence and ardor of the fanatic turned everything to red and black. Emotions took hold, fighting to poison him, to spread that infection to every cell in his body.

Lifemate. The light to his darkness. All darkness. Nothing this ugly could ever touch something so bright. One word. One breath. That was all it took. He had complete faith in her to call him back from the brink of madness.

She was there instantly, pouring into his mind, lighting every dark place, pushing out the stench of fanaticism and hatred, replacing those intense, damaging emotions with her unconditional love.

He released Gunnolf’s head, turning away, fighting down the terrible need to retch after being so consumed by the fervor of the Lycan’s need to kill every living creature who did not believe as he did.

Zev swung the silver sword, slicing through the Lycan’s neck, severing the head. There was a long moment of silence. “Was it worth it?” Zev asked quietly when Fen sank into the green grass.

At once Fen felt Mother Earth reaching for him, comforting him. He felt oily and dirty, shaking his head repeatedly to try to get Gunnolf’s emotions out of his head. He swept his hand over his face and it came away bloody. Tiny beads of blood had pushed through his pores. Not a good thing. Lycans didn’t sweat blood.

“You tell me,” Fen managed to say. “This is all about the Sange rau. Gunnolf felt you were becoming too close to the Carpathian people and he had to act to save all Lycans from the damage that would do. The ultimate goal is to start a war between the two species. If they do that, then all Lycans would side with his faction—those who believe in the old ways—the strict code of morality—he used the term sacred code.”

Zev sighed, wiped the blade clean and slipped the sword back into the scabbard before sinking rather abruptly into the deeper grass surrounding Fen. The laceration on his arm still bled, the wound all the way to the bone. “I’m going to pretend that I don’t notice that the ground responds to you just as it does with Dimitri.”

“Dimitri is my brother,” Fen volunteered. He was through lying to Zev. They had a problem—a huge one. Either they were going to stop a war, or start one right there. “I was born Carpathian. I am Hän ku pesäk kaikak—Guardian of all.”

“I’d like to say that comes as a huge surprise, but it doesn’t. Tatijana is tied to you in some way?”

“She’s my lifemate.”

Zev’s fingers played over the hilt of his sword. “I see. I’d cut off your head for you, but I’m too damned weak. You’ll just have to wait for another day. How did you get this way, and when?”

“Over the centuries, it is easy to suffer severe wounds and need blood. Those I hunted with often gave me what I needed—and I did the same with them.”

“That’s why you were able to kill the Sange rau. You’re more like they are.”

Fen nodded. “Dimitri helped me. He saved both Gunnolf and Convel, but in doing so, they realized he was of mixed blood and they took him. Whoever is behind the movement to go back to this sacred code is the one trying to start a war between the two species. I couldn’t stay in his mind long enough to get a name without risking infection.”

Zev ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and began to wrap it around his arm. “I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he noted. “You may as well give me some. If I’m going to be strong enough in the future to hunt you down, I’ll need to live through this.”

“You risk becoming a mixed blood,” Fen pointed out. “That’s how Dimitri became a Guardian. There were times we hunted rogue packs and vampires together down through the ages. When wounded, we helped each other by giving blood.”

“I fear it’s a little too late to warn me,” Zev said. He pushed a hand through his hair. “I became aware some time ago that there was something different gaining strength in me. I believe I have inadvertently become—or am becoming—the very thing I hunted for centuries.”

Fen drew up his knees. The wound in Zev’s arm had bled far too much. “I think Gunnolf used an anticoagulant on the blade of his dagger.”

Zev nodded his agreement. “Lycans rejuvenate fast. At the very least, blood flow should have ceased. I’m bleeding out here.” He gave an involuntary shiver, his body already growing cold. “Are you going to help or just sit there?”

“I’m calculating the odds that you might use one of the hundreds of weapons you’ve got on you, that you didn’t use on Gunnolf, but should have.” Fen’s voice was thoughtful.

“I’m too damn tired to disarm myself so make up your mind,” Zev said and lay back in the grass.

“Just know that hell is coming this way,” Fen warned. “Your Lycans shot a young girl related to just about every powerful family that there is. Paul’s family is every vampire’s nightmare, and the boy was shot as well. Josef’s family has already arrived, and when Dimitri rises again, he’ll owe that boy. He’ll hunt down every single Lycan who fired a weapon at those they perceive as children.”

“I think you’ve more than conveyed the grave danger we’re all in,” Zev said dryly. He closed his eyes.

Fen sighed. “You know I’m mixed blood. I could call a Carpathian in to give you their blood. It might slow the process.”

“Just give me your damned blood before I pass out.”

“What a wuss,” Fen said, matching the drollness in Zev’s tone. He moved fast, though.

Zev was a man too valuable to be allowed to die. If he wasn’t worried about the mixed blood then Fen knew the elite hunter was really in trouble. It would make sense, even if Zev knew he was close to the transformation, he would do everything he could to slow it down until the council ruled on the subject of the Sange rau—bad blood, versus the Hän ku pesäk kaikak—Guardian of all.

Fen tore at his wrist and pressed it to Zev’s mouth. The danger in feeding a Lycan blood was they might become too fond of it. Lycans had forsaken the need for fresh blood and meat, embracing a civilized world, but it was impossible to tame a creature with a predatory nature. The savagery was there, lurking just beneath the surface, always threatening to overcome the hard-won shell of civilization.

Zev didn’t seem to have any problems taking blood in the Carpathian manner. Fen knew that Tatijana had given Zev blood as well when he was gravely injured. More than once the Carpathians had donated their blood to keep this Lycan alive, but it wouldn’t have been enough to cause the transformation. It was a slow process, happening over a long time of exposure, which meant more than once through the centuries, Zev had hunted with a Carpathian.

“You just want mixed blood because you took one look at a certain woman and all brain matter went dead,” Fen accused.

Zev didn’t open his eyes or stop feeding. She did make an impression.