Dark Wolf

12

The clash of swords rang throughout the room. Daciana and Makoce kept Rolf between them, while Lykaon and Arnau defended the other council members not—shockingly—from the Carpathians, but from other Lycans who suddenly turned on them.

They’re trying to assassinate the council, Mikhail warned his warriors. Choose your targets carefully.

“Loyal Lycans,” Rolf called out, “those loyal to the council, defend us, not from the Carpathians but from our kind.”

Lucian cut down Lowell, the wolf who had tried to murder Francesca and Gabriel with one slice of his sword. Another Lycan stabbed a silver stake through the assassin’s heart and sliced down with his sword to sever the head.

Gabriel thrust his lifemate to the back of the room, away from the skirmish. Zacarias leapt forward to close ranks, protecting the woman. He was everywhere, his expression never changing, reacting fast, so that it seemed each Lycan who cut down his own kind in an effort to get to a council member had to get through him or one of his brothers. Clearly, he directed his family, and they seemed to move together in a choreographed dance of death.

The Lycan faction that wanted the council dead were caught between their own kind and the Carpathians. Their bid to start a battle between species had failed when both sides kept a cool head and followed their leaders’ orders.

“Lay down your weapons,” Rolf commanded. “Your lives will be spared.”

Not a single one of the Lycans who stood with Lowell and Varg obeyed; even knowing they would be killed, they increased their determination to get to a council member. Daciana took a vicious swipe across her stomach with a silver knife from Varg as he tried to get past her to Rolf. The sharp blade cut her open and the silver had to burn like an inferno, but she didn’t flinch.

As the blade came at her a second time, she slammed her hand down on his wrist, sidestepping, trusting Makoce, her partner, to protect Rolf while she fought Varg. She knew him well, but he always had underestimated her. Lately, she’d noticed two of the elite hunters in their pack treating her just a little differently. Both Gunnolf and Convel had begun ignoring things she’d said, acting as if they hadn’t heard her. They often walked away when she approached them.

Varg had the same attitude as Lowell. She should have brought the matter to Zev’s attention, but she felt silly complaining. What had changed them? The differences had started long ago, but she hadn’t really noticed until they’d become disdainful. They hadn’t wanted her in their elite pack.

Using the Lycan’s own momentum, she cut back with his wrist over his own shoulder, flipping Varg onto his back. He landed on the table of food Francesca had laid out for them and with a roar of rage, leapt up, throwing himself at Daciana. She had expected the move, counting on his new disdain of women fighters. She allowed him to slam her to the floor, his muzzle, as he transformed to half man and half wolf, snapping around her shoulder viciously.

In her fist she clenched a silver stake, aiming it upward. Varg’s own body weight as well as the speed of his jump drove that spiraling stake straight through his heart. Her aim was perfect—as it always had been. She stared into his eyes, watching the life force fade. “That’s right, hotshot. A woman defeated you. Go to hell thinking about that.”

Zacarias pulled the body from her and extended his hand. She took it and leapt right back into the fray, leaving the Carpathian to slice off the head of the wolf.

The battle was over in a short space of time. A dozen Lycans lay dead on the floor. The Carpathian warriors stepped back, eyeing the remaining Lycans a little warily.

“I apologize for the behavior of my people,” Rolf said, giving a formal bow. “We appreciate your help in dealing with the assassins. If you would excuse us, we will return to the inn. Our wounded need to be attended to, and the council members would like to make a few phone calls to see if we can get to the bottom of this treachery.”

Mikhail swept his gaze over the remaining Lycans. If there was a faction of Lycans trying to start a war between the two species, he doubted if the twelve dead lying on the floor were all that remained.

This was a well-thought-out plot, Gregori, to make us look responsible.

I agree.

If the council members are assassinated on Carpathian soil there will be no explaining it to the remaining council members who elected to stay behind.

You and I both know the council is still not safe. Some of those conspiring against them are still alive. It would be ludicrous to believe all have been slain, Gregori pointed out.

“I mean no disrespect, Rolf,” Mikhail continued aloud, “but I would prefer to send some of my men with you to ensure your safety.”

Rolf gave a slight nod, indicating he wasn’t opposed to the idea. He, like Mikhail and Gregori, had to have known that there were probably more assassins lurking among his guards, just waiting for an opportunity to kill him and the others.

Mikhail. Zacarias sent him a call along the common Carpathian path, which allowed Gregori to hear as well. My family must set out now if we’re going to make it to Paul before dawn. As it is, it will be close. Andre, Mataias, Lojos and Tomas have returned.

Clearly, Zacarias was reminding him that there were others to take his family’s place. Mikhail had known they would go. Still, it was troublesome. Zacarias was unpredictable. He wasn’t a man to take prisoners or ask too many questions. If the Lycans provoked him, he would retaliate. There was no way to ask him to stay, not when Paul had been shot. Paul was his nephew, and no De La Cruz would leave a family member, especially a child, behind.

Mikhail had enough men to guard him and their women and children. He had no real excuse to keep the families of those that were in trouble in Russia with him. He knew Lucian and Gabriel Daratrazanoff would go as well. The combination of Zacarias, his brothers and the legendary twins was more than he would ever wish on his worst enemy.

Don’t start a war, he cautioned. The members of the council appear to have come here in good faith. Give us time to work this out.

If a war has been started, Gabriel reminded him grimly, the Lycans fired the first round.

Emotions were high. There was no getting around that. He didn’t know what he would have done had the Lycans attacked either of his children. He put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Bring them home. All of them.” He didn’t care if Rolf and the other council members heard him. He wanted them to hear. They could see for themselves what his people were capable of, just by looking at them—seasoned, ancient warriors—every one of them. Let the council call their packs and warn them. There was no trap these men would be caught in.

He looked around him at the men and women. They were not volatile, or impatient. He couldn’t even say that about Zacarias. They were steady, calm and deadly. Do you understand what I’m saying? The children belong to all of us. Bring them home no matter the cost.

The seven men looked at him, straight into his eyes—each one of them—and then nodded slowly. Mikhail lifted his hand. “Good journey and Godspeed.”

Rolf shook his head with a soft sigh. “We have much to talk about.”

Mikhail nodded. “We will talk, but our children must be brought home.”

“Can you walk?” Fen asked Zev. He took a slow look around him. “Most of the Lycans have gone into the forest, or have retreated toward their camp, but a few remain. I believe those few are tasked with killing you. It seems you’re an important man, Zev Hunter.”

Zev didn’t open his eyes, lying there in the tall grass, resting, waiting for his Lycan genes and the infusion of Carpathian blood to close the wound on his arm. He never took his hand from the hilt of his sword. “Being important has its drawbacks.”

“Being the friend of an important man has its drawbacks,” Fen said. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck raising. They were targets and the Lycans were armed with guns.

Tatijana, shield us. Zev has lost far too much blood. I need to bring him into the shelter.

You cannot. He is Lycan and no Lycan can pass.

It is the only way to save his life. He has Carpathian blood in him. How much I do not know, but he told me he feels the change already beginning.

It’s a terrible risk.

Fen sighed. “You’re really a pain in the ass, Zev, important or not. Here’s where we stand. Tatijana is shielding us from bullets at the moment, but it won’t last for long because dawn is breaking and we’ll need to go to ground. You aren’t safe with your Lycans without someone watching your back, until you’re at full strength again, and even then, you’re in danger.”

“Is this going somewhere?” Zev asked, lifting his lashes enough to peer at Fen. “Because I figured that out all by myself.”

“I can try taking you inside where no one can get to you, but if you don’t have enough Carpathian blood, it won’t work. We’ll have to make a run for it and I’m not certain where to take you. I’ll need to go to ground. Is there anyone you trust at this point? Trust them with your life?”

“They’re in the Carpathian Mountains guarding the council. That’s why they’re there, because I trust them,” Zev said. He tried sitting up, but a wave of weakness sent him back to the ground. “Get out of here, Fen. Go while you can.”

Fen snorted his derision. “Tatijana’s sister isn’t here to see your heroics, so just stop. I’m going to try to bring you inside. You can rest and guard us while we sleep.”

A faint grin softened the rough edges to Zev’s face. “Now I see where this is going. I’m the one injured and you’re going to bed expecting me to guard your sorry ass.”

“That would be about right,” Fen said with an answering grin that faded very quickly. “We have one fully human boy who would have to sit through the day alone. He’s wounded, courageous and he’ll stand, but the responsibility of guarding his father, uncle, my brother and Skyler as well as Tatijana and me, is a huge one for a kid.”

Zev patted his sword. “No problem then. I can take on the entire Lycan world for you, with a kid no less, just so you can get your beauty sleep.”

“My lifemate is Tatijana and you see what she looks like. I can’t risk looking like I’m Dracula.”

Zev laughed softly. “I don’t know what that woman sees in you.”

“Quite frankly, neither do I.” Fen huffed out his breath. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Zev answered.

Once again he struggled to sit up. This time he made it. His face, weathered and tanned over the years, had gone pale. He looked as if he might be sick, but he forced himself to stay sitting upright, swaying a little.

“Give me a second and then we’ll try standing.”

“Once we’re up, we’ve got to make it to the fortress,” Fen cautioned. “Tatijana can only shield us from so many positions. If they put snipers in the trees . . .”

Zev nodded. “I feel them. They’re surrounding us.” He looked at Fen. “That’s how I knew I was becoming something different. I felt the others sometimes when I shouldn’t have. Lycans don’t give off energy.”

“They do, but they contain it,” Fen corrected. “As your body becomes a Guardian, your senses grow even more acute.”

If Zev was at the point where his awareness had grown to such an extent, it might be enough to allow him into Skyler’s shelter. Weeks earlier they’d been in several battles together. Tatijana had given Zev blood. Other Carpathians had. It was possible those last infusions had pushed Zev into the actual transformation. No one really knew when it happened.

Going from Carpathian to Lycan was easier to know because the wolf was a dead giveaway. One slowly became aware of his presence. A Lycan already had the wolf in him. There was no way to realize what was happening until it was far too late. If Zev suspected he had become a mixed blood, he more than likely was.

Something smacked into the shield Tatijana had provided, a bullet splintering the transparent armor so that it spiderwebbed outward into a starburst pattern.

“I think we just ran out of time,” Fen said. He leapt to his feet and reached down for Zev.

Zev was game, Fen had to hand it to him. He struggled up as Fen pulled him into a standing position.

“I’m good,” Zev assured. “The dizziness is beginning to pass.”

That was probably bull, but Fen wasn’t about to argue. A second bullet joined the first, and then a volley rang out. He got his arm around Zev and they sprinted for the shelter. Fen heard the bullets hitting the shield from every direction. There had to be at least five shooters—all marksmen if the bullet patterns were anything to go by. Each would have been a hit in the head. Whoever was running Gunnolf’s army had recruited some sharpshooters.

Once they reached the shelter wall, that rippling transparency that held out Lycans and bullets alike, Fen stepped back to allow Zev to go through first.

“What do I do?”

“You just walk through. If you make it, you’re in, if not, I don’t know what happens to you.”

“You haven’t been inside?”

“No, but Dimitri is in there and he’s like us.”

Zev took a deep breath, let it out and took a step. The wrench to his bones was horrendous, a twisting, yanking sensation ripping at him that drove the air from his lungs and seemed to pull apart muscle and tissue. His heart accelerated, beating so hard his chest hurt.

He would have pulled back but he knew Fen would stay with him, continuing to risk his life. They wouldn’t stand a chance outside the fortress, either one of them. Not alone. He plowed forward while his cells screamed and his body felt torn into pieces.

Suddenly he was free of the sensation, falling to the ground, able to breathe again, his heart slowing to a more normal pace. He rolled over, coughing, pulling air into his burning lungs. He kept his gaze fixed on Fen. Fen had been mixed blood for centuries. He was truly half Lycan and half Carpathian. There was no doubt in his mind that Fen experienced that same wrenching, tearing apart of his body when Fen fell to the ground beside him, breathing just as hard.

“Just who is this girl who managed to construct this thing?” Zev asked.

Fen would have laughed if he could get enough air to do so. His body still felt as if it had been jerked in a thousand different directions. How did one describe Skyler? “She looks like an innocent angel. That’s how my brother describes her. Her name is Skyler.”

Zev brought his hand to his forehead. “I met her. In the forest. She was lost, she said. She had a sprained ankle and couldn’t find her way back to her camp.”

Fen did laugh then. He couldn’t help himself. “She totally suckered you.”

“She’s human.”

“She’s Skyler, Dimitri’s lifemate. The Lycans took him, and she took him back.”

Byron approached them with a hint of caution. He smiled, but his eyes were flat and cold. “Tatijana told me you were bringing him inside, that he was injured very badly. Does he need blood?”

“Yes,” Fen said. “And I want Tatijana to take a look at his wound.”

“I’m right here,” Zev reminded. “I’m Zev. Zev Hunter. It seems my own people want me dead so Fen invited me inside.”

“I’m Byron Justicano,” Byron introduced himself. “Josef is my nephew. He and Paul helped Skyler rescue Dimitri.”

“Brave kids,” Zev said. He nodded toward Paul, who lifted a hand and gave him a faint grin. “Good actors, too. They fooled me.” He huffed out his breath in disgust. “I carried that girl all the way back to her camp. She never gave herself away, not even for a second. I was suspicious, of course, because of the timing, but not of her, just that the camp was there when we’d made certain no one would be in the area.”

Fen and Byron exchanged a small smile. It seemed it wasn’t only the Carpathians who had underestimated Skyler, Josef and Paul.

“I’m sorry she’s dead,” Zev said. “She flung herself in front of Dimitri just as a dozen Lycans fired. Most of the Lycans obeyed when I told them to stand down, but Gunnolf’s faction was determined to kill Dimitri. She just got in the way.”

“She’s not dead,” Byron said.

Zev frowned and looked around him. The shelter had transparent walls and ceiling, he could see the occupants easily. Tatijana and another man seemed to be working on a younger man’s wounds. He had spiked blue/black hair and was very pale. Paul lay on the ground close to him, looking back at him. But there were no others in the fortress besides Byron and Fen.

“Dimitri put her in the ground to heal,” Fen explained.

“I thought she was human,” Zev said, puzzled. “You are confusing me, and I’m already a little disoriented.”

“She will rise fully Carpathian,” Fen clarified. “Dimitri was able to save her.”

“After seeing her wounds, I don’t see how it was possible,” Zev said. “Even from a distance, she looked dead or dying.”

“Her father is Gabriel Daratrazanoff,” Fen said. “Her adopted father.”

Zev’s breath caught in his throat. If it was possible for him to go any paler, he managed it. “The legend? Gabriel and Lucian? The twins? Every Lycan young or old has heard of them. I don’t suppose there’s any hope that they aren’t heading this way, because where one is, so is the other.”

“None at all,” Fen said. “Gabriel and Lucian are hoping to make it before dawn.”

Zev closed his eyes. “This is getting worse by the minute.”

“I haven’t told you the worst,” Fen cautioned.

Zev groaned softly. “Just get it over with, Fen. What else?”

“Have you heard of a Carpathian by the name of Zacarias?”

Zev’s eyes flew open. He even sat up again. “Are you kidding me? No Lycan goes near South America if they can help it. It’s been done, but rarely. No one wants any part of him or his brothers. Of course we’ve heard of him. He’s the boogeyman we scare our children with.”

Fen indicated Paul with his thumb. “That’s his nephew.”

“Fen.” Zev brushed his hand over his face. “How are we going to prevent a war? You know not every Lycan here at this camp is guilty. You know that. All of them, me included, were duped into thinking the council had sentenced Dimitri to death by silver. In a way it made sense, they could deny they had killed him because he would move continually until the silver reached his heart. Technically, they could claim he killed himself.”

“That’s bull,” Fen snapped, his eyes beginning to glow. He even felt his teeth lengthen just a little.

Zev frowned at him. “Don’t go vampire on me. I’m just explaining how it appeared from a Lycan point of view. I tried calling the council members but none of the phones worked. Looking back, Gunnolf and his followers must have been jamming the cell phones.”

“You would have let him die,” Fen accused. “My brother.”

Zev nodded. “I thought about killing him myself, to stop his suffering,” he admitted. “I have a sworn duty to uphold the rulings of the council whether I agree or not.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Truthfully, I considered, for the first time in my very long existence, going against them. Not only was the ruling unjust, but it seemed suicidal. Council members were negotiating with Mikhail for an alliance—and they wanted it. They were in favor of it. Or most of them.”

“Most?” Fen echoed.

“Majority rules on the council, and all Lycans abide by the laws. The alpha enforces the laws within individual packs, but no pack would ever go against a council ruling.”

“I guess I should be glad you didn’t kill him,” Fen said.

“I would have asked him first. He lasted too long, so I figured he had a powerful reason for staying alive, one that transcended that kind of pain. He worked at remaining still, which meant he didn’t want to die. I found traces of silver on the ground below him and realized he had to be pushing the silver out through his pores. He was completely wrapped in silver chain from head to toe, so that made no sense.”

“Skyler,” Fen said. “That girl—woman,” he corrected.

“Who would have thought that innocent-looking child could possibly wreak such havoc and completely disrupt a takeover by some fanatical group within the Lycans?” Zev said.

“You do realize,” Fen pointed out, “Gunnolf and Convel had to be working with someone else for a long time to put a takeover in place and when we stumbled across the same rogue pack heading for the Carpathian Mountains, we actually walked right into their opening move.”

Zev nodded. He smiled up at Tatijana as she came to his side. “It’s good to see you,” he greeted her. “Thanks for saving us out there.”

She smiled back at him and sank down into the grass, taking his arm to inspect the damage. “It’s getting to be a habit. We can’t have anyone killing you, Zev. My sister wouldn’t be too pleased. She’s hoping to get another dance with you sometime.”

“She probably doesn’t remember my name,” Zev said. “But it’s kind of you to say so.”

Tatijana laughed. “Silly man. Your name is probably the only one she does remember. She’s not very social.”

Fen gave a small derisive snort. “The lengths you go to, getting yourself hurt just for a little female sympathy. You know, Tatijana, he really is far faster than he lets on and he could have prevented the knife from slicing him open. He was just hoping your sister would show up and kiss it all better.”

Zev sent him a warning glare. “I’m still armed to the teeth, you bastard.”

Tatijana shook her head, amusement in her eyes. “You two are awful.” The smile suddenly faded from her eyes leaving her, serious-looking—and a little worried. “Zev, this cut is all the way to the bone. There is some kind of poison at work here I can barely detect. I can check it out if you allow me to, but I’ll have to do so the Carpathian way.”

Zev shrugged. “Apparently, I’m nearly half Carpathian already. I may as well learn how to do the healing the way you do. And it isn’t like you haven’t done it before.”

Tatijana didn’t wait, but shed her body, her spirit becoming white energy, moving into Zev to try to find the poisonous compound spreading through his system. A scratch along the bone from elbow to wrist showed where the slice had been. The tip of the blade had cut into the bone and she could see tiny, minute blisters, like little droplets all along the scratch. The globules clung to the bone, but spread along the scratch and beyond. The deadly beads crept their way up his arm, following the bone.

She had to eradicate every single tiny trace of that poison. More, throughout the tissue and muscles of his arm, she could see evidence of a blood thinner and anticoagulant. Gunnolf had been prepared to challenge Zev to a fight for pack leader and he’d come ready to murder him. As long as the thinner and anticoagulant saturated his arm, there would never be healing. They could give him blood over and over and it wouldn’t matter.

She moved back into her own body, her eyes meeting her lifemate’s, her expression grave. “Gunnolf planned to murder you, Zev. There are at least three compounds left behind in your system to kill you. Your Lycan blood is trying to regenerate tissue and muscle and your Carpathian blood is trying to remove the intruders, but you won’t be able to do so on your own.”

Fen reached out and took her hand, threading his fingers through hers. “We knew it was bad,” he told her gently. “Nothing has stopped the bleeding. Can you get it out of him? I have some skills as well. Between the two of us, we should be able to clean him up.”

“Vlad can give him blood,” Byron said. “Once you stop the bleeding.”

“I can, too,” Paul volunteered.

“If he gives me blood, would I be considered part of Zacarias’s family?” Zev asked. “That might be safer.”

“I think Gabriel is going to be one who comes in like the avenger,” Byron said. “I’m getting a few rumblings. Razvan, Skyler’s birth father, is on his way with Ivory, his lifemate. They just reached out to me. None of them are happy about any of this. Razvan informed me that there was an assassination attempt on the members of the council.”

Zev swore under his breath. “This is far worse than I thought. This isn’t just happening here then. I was afraid of that. There are council members in a safe location as well. It’s a precaution taken when there is danger to any of them. That way there is stability should any one of them die. There is always a continuity, older members with any necessary new members. Were any of them killed or injured? I sent my best people with them.”

“Fortunately, cool heads prevailed,” Byron informed him. “Razvan wasn’t there when the assassins struck. Apparently, they tried to kill Gabriel and Francesca as they turned away. Zacarias stopped them, and both Mikhail and a senior member of the council persuaded the others to stand down after a brief but apparently ferocious battle. Twelve Lycans were killed, but they appeared to be for the other side, whatever that is.”

Zev swore again. “I need to get there. If a single council member is murdered in the Carpathian Mountains, whoever is behind this has won.” He half sat up as if he might go right then.

Fen held up a restraining hand. “Did you forget the poison? The anticoagulant? Were you planning on taking a body along with you to supply you with blood?”

Zev looked pained, rolling his eyes, shaking his head. “When did he get to be such a comedian, Tatijana?”

Tatijana pinned Fen with a glare, although amusement lurked in her eyes. “I have no idea, but you really are in trouble here. Sober up, wolf men, both of you, we have to get this arm taken care of.” She looked over her shoulder. “Vlad, I’m going to need you. He’s still losing too much blood.”

“Did she just call us wolf men?” Zev asked, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Were lucky it wasn’t wolf boys,” Fen pointed out. “She throws that in upon occasion.”

“Zev, lay back and just relax,” Tatijana advised. “Fen and I are both going to work on you together.” Her eyes met Fen’s. “You go after the poison, and I’ll work on the anticoagulant.”

Fen nodded, knowing she was particularly worried about the wound. There was no keeping anything from Zev. He knew, probably because he’d been wounded a thousand times in battles. He was a wolf with a body that regenerated quickly. If his arm refused to stop bleeding and he felt weaker even after the infusion of blood, he would know.

Fen shed his body, becoming white, healing energy, his spirit traveling quickly into Zev. The blood of both Lycan and Carpathian was present, although the Lycan was still stronger. Probably, had they not given Zev so much blood over the last few battles, he would have gone several years without realizing he was slowly transforming.

He moved through the body, inspecting the bones for any trace of poison. Tatijana had provided a clear image in his mind, but already the tiny blisters were spreading from the arm to the shoulder and along the collarbone. He went to work extracting the poison, slowly driving it out of the body. Some of the venomous dots were so minute, it was difficult to spot them.

He felt Tatijana’s presence, but only the heat of her energy, as she began her own work on separating the anticoagulant from the tissue and muscle surrounding the wound. Someone had worked on the formula to coat Gunnolf’s knives and daggers, probably his sword. Fen should have thought to collect the weapons so they could find out exactly how it was done.

If the faction of Lycans who wanted war were using poisonous weapons, then the Carpathians and any allies had to quickly find a way to counteract the formula used. He pushed more of the beads from Zev’s bone, driving the venom from Zev’s body. There was no trace of silver in the poison that he could find, so he was positive a Lycan had worked out the compound. An enemy would have added that component as well, but a Lycan, even a treacherous one, would not want to get anywhere near silver.

He studied the line of drops. He’d seen something similar recently. Had a mage helped with the chemistry required? The idea of a mage and Lycan alliance was, frankly, quite terrifying. Once the crimes of Xavier, the high mage, were known throughout their world, most of the other mages had scattered, not wanting to be associated with him, but that didn’t mean they weren’t around. Xavier had exploited them and murdered them for his own experiments just as he had every other species. No one had been sacred to him—not even his own flesh and blood.

Fen had no idea of time passing as he meticulously removed every tiny drop of poison from Zev’s body and then went back to work at healing from the inside out. Tatijana had already done her part and was working to repair the enormous slice as well. They finished together, and nearly fell into their own bodies.

“He needs blood,” Tatijana told Vlad. “I’ll give him more just before we go to ground.”

“I want to make certain all of you understand that when you rise hungry tomorrow, and you will, especially after donating all this blood,” Fen said, “that most likely anyone you come across will be Lycan. Ingesting their blood will eventually change you. Mikhail talked to all of you about the problems.”

“He didn’t talk to me,” Zev said, and lifted his head to feed from Vlad’s extended wrist.

“We don’t have enough answers to all the questions we asked,” Fen said honestly. “Like how a woman is affected, or a child, should we choose to have one. How a Carpathian can convert another. More, we continue to mutate the longer we live with such a mixture.”

“You people should come with a warning label,” Byron told Zev.

Zev flipped him off. Behind them, Paul snickered and Josef began to laugh. Flipping others off was not an accepted practice among the Carpathian ancients, or even those considered old, like Byron.

Byron stifled a grin and turned around with a sober, very serious expression. “Josef, I believe Tatijana told you to go to ground.”

Tatijana stirred, and Josef quickly waved his hand to open the ground before she could reprimand him. He floated down and the rich soil quickly filled in over him, covering him completely.

Byron shook his head. “That boy is certainly courageous, but I have to tell you, Vlad, he’s a handful.”

“We never know what he’s going to do or get into.” Vlad sent Paul a quick frown over his shoulder. “We were happy when he was hanging out with Paul and Skyler because we thought—wrongly—that they were a good influence on him.”

Paul sent him a smug smirk. “We pulled it off, though. All of us.”

“I wouldn’t look so happy,” Vlad advised. “Your uncles are on their way. They’ll be here before dawn.”

The smile faded quickly from Paul’s face. “Uncles? As in all of them? Rafael? Zacarias, too?”

Vlad nodded his head. “All of them,” he confirmed.

Paul groaned, covered his face with his hands and lay back. “I wish I could go to ground. Maybe for twenty years or more. I don’t think my sister is going to get me out of this one.”

Zev politely thanked Vlad, trying hard not to laugh at the boy’s dismay. The kid had fooled him and that wasn’t an easy thing to do. “So it’s you and me, kid,” he said. “We’ll be facing them together. The Lycan, who they blame for all of this, and you, because you outsmarted us all—even them.”

“You might not want to mention that part,” Paul said. “It isn’t like they have the best sense of humor. I’m not certain I’ve ever actually seen Zacarias laugh. We might want to take our chances in the forest.”

“You’re surrounded by snipers,” Fen pointed out. “That wouldn’t be the best idea.”

“Better a quick bullet than Zacarias tearing my head off and using it for some kind of macabre weapon, which he’s quite capable of,” Paul said.

“In the old days they used to cut off heads and put them up on spears to warn everyone what would happen to them if they angered the great lords,” Fen said with a sly glance at Zev. He nudged him with his foot. “Your head would look mighty pretty perched up on top of a spear, staring into the woods as a warning to the Lycans who shot young Paul there.”

“Fen!” Tatijana sounded shocked. “You’re getting more bloodthirsty by the minute. Go to ground and behave yourself.”

“He doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” Zev said, a little piously. “But if Paul’s uncle does cut off my head, Fen, it will be up to you to keep him from starting a war. You’ll have to talk sense into him.”

Fen scowled at him. “I doubt anyone can do that, even me, and when my brother rises, it will take all of you to talk sense into me.”

He couldn’t quite suppress the rage that rose every now and then when he thought of his brother being tortured in the Lycan camp. He would never have found Dimitri in time to save him. If Skyler and Dimitri didn’t have such an incredible, intense bond between them, his brother would have died an unspeakable death of sheer agony.

Zev’s faint smile faded. “I am sorry, Fen.”

Fen shrugged. He knew that Zev’s years of service to the council had conditioned him to follow orders and carry out commands. He was the council’s defense. Their eyes and ears. They trusted him implicitly, and he had earned that trust the hard way. He couldn’t blame Zev. The elite hunter had even confessed to him that he’d considered going against the orders of the council, or even ending Dimitri’s suffering himself by killing him.

“We’re not at war yet,” Fen reminded softly. “I find it difficult to understand how Dimitri could have been treated that way during wartime, let alone when we’re at peace.”

“I found it equally as hard to understand,” Zev admitted. “I found myself realizing I couldn’t uphold the council’s rulings if I didn’t believe they were just and fair.” That realization had shaken the very foundation of his existence, his every belief.

Fen took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry. None of this is your fault.”

“Maybe. And maybe it is. I should have known something was very wrong when I couldn’t reach the council for answers.” Zev shook his head. He was tired. Exhausted actually. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep. “You don’t have to stay up and keep me company. Paul and I will take turns keeping watch. You need sleep every bit as much as I do.”

Fen looked over at Paul.

Paul nodded, looking far too old for his age. “No problem, we’ve got this,” he agreed.