Dark Wolf

15

Shots rang out as the next dragon emerged from the collapsing shelter. Riordan De La Cruz burst through the shelter wall with Josef on his back. Bullets whined through the air, the sounds reverberating through the night, but Zacarias and his brothers had constructed a shield around the materializing dragons. The bullets couldn’t penetrate that safeguard. Unfortunately, the buffer was only so large, only keeping the dragons and their passengers safe as they left the collapsing shelter.

Vlad was next to appear, a great golden dragon winging its way clear of the disintegrating refuge with Paul on his back. Lycans poured into the clearing, realizing their long-range weapons did no good. Most were in Lycan form, half wolf, half man, taller and stronger and able to cover great distances in one leap.

The dragons necessarily had to come out low to the ground due to the structure falling in on itself. To gain altitude for such a large creature with the added weight of a passenger on its back, the dragon had to work immensely hard, wings straining to create enough lift for the jump.

Byron followed close behind Vlad, Zev on his back. The sight of the elite hunter with the Carpathians sent the Lycans into a frenzy of madness. Most left Vlad’s dragon alone to rush Byron, leaping at his sides, clawing and tearing, ripping at the wings in an effort to disable the creature so it couldn’t fly. Several below it tore at the soft underbelly, ripping out chunks to bleed the dragon dry.

Razvan and Ivory stormed out of the shelter, two riders in the sky, shooting arrows simultaneously, aiming for arms and legs, wounding as many as possible, every bit as fast as the Lycans.

Byron’s dragon faltered and went down, hitting with its nose first, skidding in the dirt and grass, leaving long, deep furrows behind.

Go, go. The rest of you, go, Zacarias ordered. We’ll get them free.

Fen, I can’t leave them, Dimitri said, putting his hand on the thick, spiked neck of Fen’s dragon in order to leap free.

Neither can I. We’re Hän ku pesäk kaikak. Let’s go guard Byron and Zev. Just don’t take any more hits. It really doesn’t matter if these wolves know what we are at this point. Use your speed, Fen agreed, more because Dimitri was going back than anything else.

There was no stopping his brother when his sense of justice was crossed. Zev had fought battles with him, given him blood, and in spite of recent events, Dimitri regarded him as a friend. Byron was Carpathian. No warrior would leave another down.

Fen spun his dragon around, feeling the fire roaring in his belly, a rage that went deep after what these creatures had done to his brother. He thought he was past it, but seeing them tearing at Byron when the Carpathian hadn’t even tried to defend himself, he found himself furious all over again, but in a cold rage, which didn’t bode well.

He swore when the Lycans surrounded Byron’s downed dragon, hooking their claws into him, preventing shifting. There were so many ripping and tearing at the body of the dragon, the arrows of the defenders seemed to make little difference. As fast as one fell, another took its place.

The Lycans had abandoned attempts at the other dragons and the rest were away safely. The pack concentrated their efforts on mutilating and killing the dragon in their possession. As Zev drew a silver sword in an effort to protect Byron, four large Lycans leapt on the dragon’s back and pulled Zev to the ground.

Cursing, Fen redoubled his speed.

Wound them, Razvan insisted on the common Carpathian telepathic communication path. Clearly he was warning the De La Cruz brothers. It isn’t necessary to kill them.

Drive them back away from Byron and Zev, Zacarias instructed. Rafael, an arrow close to the heart can kill.

Not these bastards, Rafael returned. I didn’t use silver. Although I will the next one.

Fen banked his dragon, coming in hard, fire pouring from his mouth, engulfing the Lycans closest to the dragon on the ground, driving them away from their fallen comrades. Dimitri stood up on the dragon’s back, balancing as Fen swept in low. Just before Fen was forced to pull up to avoid trees, Dimitri leapt from his back, right into the middle of the Lycans who had pulled Zev to the ground.

Dimitri ignored his protesting body, cutting through the crowd with astonishing speed, his silver sword stained and dripping with Lycan blood. He fought his way to Zev, yanking him up with one hand, going back-to-back with him. Zev was covered in blood and wounds, but he didn’t hesitate to stand and fight with Dimitri.

Fen materialized beside them, so they formed a triangle of deadly fighters, moving toward the fallen dragon, cutting down everyone in their path.

Zacarias easily saw their plan. Help clear the way, Razvan and Ivory. Make it too dangerous to stay between them and the dragon, Rafael; and Nicolas, take out the Lycans holding Byron to that form. Manolito and I will begin to clear another path to get out of here.

“Are you all right?” Dimitri asked Zev when he sensed the other man falter for a moment.

“I’m alive, and that’s all that counts.” Zev’s breath came in ragged gasps. He’d been injured, but Dimitri couldn’t take the time to see how bad the wound or wounds were.

We need to see if we can find the divide between the factions, Fen suggested. I can detect a faint difference in smell at times.

Lycans conceal all odors when hunting, Zev reminded. His sword flashed as he whirled around two aggressive wolves wielding swords. He disarmed one and cut the arm off the other, returning to his position back-to-back with Dimitri.

Nevertheless, I can tell the difference, Fen said. I can feel the energy leaking out of their shields as well.

He drove three particularly large and hairy Lycans back from the fallen dragon. One actually had a chunk of dragon belly between his teeth.

Wait for it, Zev, Dimitri said, allowing his senses, growing so acute and sharp, to flare out, trying to find the differences Fen had detected. He’s going to start in any moment with how much more evolved he is than us.

Two Lycans fell at his feet, both sprouting arrows. He nearly slipped in the blood surrounding Byron’s dragon. The warriors in the sky were making the job easier, wounding every Lycan that dared to tear at the dragon.

With the addition of three deadly silver swords, the Lycans fell back, trying to drag their wounded with them.

I’ve got a shield up for you in case they try using guns again, Zacarias said. This time the bullet will bounce off and return to the sender. He sounded as low-key as ever. Nothing seemed to ruffle Zacarias.

We’ve got a few just below us, pulling out their rifles. Rafael’s voice held a hint of satisfaction.

Dimitri, Zev and Fen reached the dragon, moving around it in a circle, making certain no Lycan remained.

You’ve got to shift, Byron, Dimitri insisted. You can’t pass out on us. We can’t lug this form into the sky. It’s dead weight. Shift and we’ll get you out of here.

They didn’t have much time. The Lycans would rally and make another attack. A volley of shots rang out, bullets peppering the shield, head shots every one.

Military training for sure, Fen observed.

Screams and howls rose as the bullets found the shooters. Zacarias hadn’t taken great care to ensure those firing didn’t suffer permanent damage. He didn’t much care, not with Byron nearly torn to pieces and three of his other men in harm’s way.

Byron stirred inside the great dragon’s body, groaning a little as his torn body refused to answer his demands. Give me a minute.

Zacarias was determined to buy him whatever time he needed. Rafael, you and Nicolas take out the shooters, every last one of them. No kills if possible, he tacked on. The Lycan can regenerate limbs, so don’t worry about being nice. And if you happen to get an inkling of the ones who shot Skyler, Paul and Josef, well, whatever happens to them, we won’t shed any tears.

Unleashing his two brothers on the shooters would most likely not have met with Mikhail’s approval, but Zacarias knew them, knew their skill. They would make it so dangerous for any Lycan who dared raise a gun toward the Carpathians that few would try.

Nicolas in particular was adept at reading thoughts of various species. If he managed to find the original shooters, those men were definitely part of the group determined to assassinate the council members and start a war. He hadn’t included those who shot Dimitri, mostly because he was a Carpathian warrior and considered fair game, but no one was going to shoot Paul and get away with it.

Zacarias was well aware he’d chosen the two most skilled and dangerous of his brothers to drive those with guns back. They knew to stay high, away from the Lycans. All of them shared the information Fen and Dimitri had provided the Carpathians with about the wolf packs and how they fought. He gave one more order to his brothers.

The moment you know for certain who the shooters are, I want to know.

It will be done, Rafael agreed. He was lifemate to Colby, Paul’s sister, and she’d looked at him with tear-filled eyes, pleading with him to find Paul and bring him home. No one made his lifemate cry, or attempted to kill his young brother-in-law, without retaliation.

They had come to find and kill the shooters. They would do their best to follow Mikhail’s orders and not start a war. They would avoid killing innocents if they could, wounding those they were unsure of whose side they were on, but once the guns had come out, those shooters had marked themselves.

As Byron managed to shift back into human form, another wave of Lycans erupted out of the ground where they’d dug, hidden, to get to their prey. Two caught at Byron’s bloody body, dragging him back away from the three defenders while the other eight rushed the mixed bloods.

Dimitri leapt over the wall of Lycans, landing squarely over the top of Byron’s body, straddling him, his sword cutting through one of the wolves trying to pull Byron away. At the same time, Dimitri leaned down, thrusting a silver dagger into Byron’s fist, and yanked him up ruthlessly.

“Stay on your feet. No matter what, stay upright,” he cautioned Byron, engaging in swordplay with the second, now frantic Lycan.

Byron was bleeding from a dozen or more wounds, some bone deep. He kept one hand over his belly, where the wolves had sought to eviscerate him as they were known to do.

Dimitri sliced through the Lycan’s sword arm. The wolf screamed as his forearm, wrist and hand dropped to the ground. Dimitri dismissed him, swinging around to face the onslaught as five of his companions turned back to aid him. They swarmed Dimitri in an attempt to overpower and kill him.

Stay behind me, Byron, and keep an eye on the one-armed wolf. Keep in tight and move when I do.

Byron didn’t answer. He’d lost far too much blood and was growing weak fast, but he refused to allow himself to slide into unconsciousness. He gripped the dagger and tried to tune himself to Dimitri’s rhythm of fighting.

He was fast. Far faster than Byron had ever conceived of, even when he’d been warned about the mixed blood and their abilities. There was no possible way to keep up. More than anything he wanted to watch the deadly ballet between fighters. He couldn’t feel any energy rising from any of the fighters, least of all Dimitri. He found himself anticipating the moves of the enemy, being guided by them rather than his defender as he tried to stay back-to-back with Dimitri. Dimitri’s fast moves were entirely unpredictable.

Without warning, two more Lycans erupted almost at his feet. Byron thrust the dagger into the chest of the nearest one, sidestepping the knife coming at him from the Lycan’s left hand. The second wolf had a sword and he swung it low, still half in the ground. Dimitri somehow sensed the two as they burst out of the ground, but still Byron heard Dimitri grunt and knew he’d taken a hit.

Dimitri swore softly under his breath as the tip of a sword caught him across the back of his calf. Fire burned through his skin and body as the silver penetrated. You think I’d be used to it by now, he said to his brother.

Get the hell out of there. Zacarias has created an opening for us. Razvan and Ivory will do a flyby and pick you and Byron up.

Screw that, Fen. Dimitri was not about to leave the other two on the ground, not with so many Lycans determined to kill them all.

Binding your lifemate hasn’t improved your temper much, Fen noted. I wasn’t planning on hanging around. I’m not wounded in twenty-seven places, burned all to hell and back and playing the hero for my woman. I can grab Zev and go the moment you and Byron are safe.

Dimitri parried two swords at once, riding them in a circle to the ground and then cutting deep into both Lycans’ chests.

Not to mention those De La Cruz brothers are wreaking as much havoc as they dare. I don’t think technically they’ve actually killed anyone, but they’re ruthless as hell and definitely riding a thin edge. They plan to shield us as we take off. I can shift in the air. Zev’s pretty adept at flight now.

That made more sense. Just this one time, Dimitri considered that it might be fun to be one of the De La Cruz brothers. They were a law unto themselves—or rather, their eldest brother. Every Carpathian alive knew one didn’t cross Zacarias and come out of it unscathed.

I’m a little busy right now, Dimitri pointed out. You two get out of here and we’ll be behind you as soon as we can fight our way free.

We’re heading your way now.

As Fen and Zev began to move steadily toward Byron and Dimitri, there was a shift in their minds, a clear telepathic message of triumph.

We’ve found them, Nicolas said. Seven shooters. All of them are feeling rather smug that they shot Skyler, Paul and Josef. They’re even whispering about how the girl is the one to kill, that if they managed to kill her, the Carpathians would definitely go to war.

They think Skyler is Sange rau because she was able to construct the shelter, Rafael added. A hit has been put out on her and their top assassins have been sent to track and kill her, Dimitri, Fen and Zev.

Dimitri’s gut tightened. Razvan, pick up Byron and get him somewhere you can close his wounds and give him blood.

What the hell are you planning to do? Fen demanded. Dimitri, have you lost your mind? You can’t see yourself, but your skin is gray and drawn. You have to get out of here now before you collapse. You aren’t fully healed and we haven’t managed to replace the blood you lost.

Dimitri was not a man who argued. Razvan swooped low, coming out of the sky fast, a streak of vapor, to materialize at the last moment and gather Byron up in his arms, taking him high before the Lycans even knew he was there.

Dimitri instantly shifted into tiny molecules impossible for a Lycan to latch on to. He shot through the trees, back into deeper forest, seeking the men Nicolas had found. They had started the fight between the species, just as they’d been ordered to do, but they weren’t taking chances on getting hacked apart by the skilled warriors.

They’d done their job, stirring up the camp, poisoning minds against Zev, or at least raising doubts about him. They proclaimed the council was behind them and that Zev had done something to cut off all cell phone contact, leaving them isolated. They sent their pawns into the battlefield, right beside those who were still on the fence, or even loyal to the council.

Sitting up in the trees and watching the battle from a safe distance with night vision goggles, they acted as commentators at a sports event, even laughing when some of the council’s loyal followers suffered amputations. The limbs would grow back, but still, the severe injuries would definitely make up the minds of those who hadn’t fully believed them.

“This couldn’t get any better,” one of the Lycans stated. He had blond hair and considered himself quite handsome. He had believed in the sacred code, all of it, including the place of women in their society. Too long things had been influenced by human interaction. The old ways, the traditions and codes had long been forgotten. “We definitely managed to stir things up, even without Gunnolf.”

Another nodded, peering through the branches to watch the chaos below. “They’ll join us now. Half of them have been shot with arrows or hacked in two, just like Gunnolf predicted.”

“Don’t pat yourselves on the back yet,” said a third. “Zev is charismatic. Everyone listens to him, including the council. He’s got to die before he starts talking again.”

“I haven’t heard if we succeeded at the meeting, the talks for an alliance,” another commented. “Keeping everyone from using their phones means we don’t have the ability either. We can only hope they did their part and wiped out the council. The moment that news hits, everyone will take up arms against the Carpathians.”

“Do you believe Zev is truly Sange rau? Or that the Carpathian prisoner was? If he was so powerful, why couldn’t he free himself?”

“What difference does it make?” the blond snarled. “The woman is the one who freed him and set up that fortress we couldn’t penetrate. If anyone’s Sange rau, it’s her. She used some kind of blood spell, I could smell her everywhere.”

“Her name,” Dimitri said, coming up behind him, “is Skyler.” He plunged the silver stake straight through the blond Lycan’s back so hard the tip came out through the wolf’s chest. In one motion, Dimitri’s sharp sword sliced through branch and neck so that the head tumbled to the ground below.

He whirled like a dancer, never actually placing his feet on the branches, but rather performed the brutal ballet there in the air, keeping the close quarters so that the Lycans were hampered by the branches and leaves. Even as they tried to scramble out of the trees, he cut down a second one, using his sword to sever the head from the neck.

“You could have waited,” Rafael complained, driving a silver stake through the heart of the headless Lycan wedged in the tree. He whirled around in midair, using a silver knife to scoop out the heart of a third, dropping it in the crotch of the tree right in front of a shocked Lycan. He stabbed the knife through the center of the heart to nail it to the trunk and glided back to allow Dimitri’s sword to send the head tumbling to the ground beside the other two.

One Lycan managed to extract himself from the branches. He leapt toward the ground, realizing, too late, that a third Carpathian stood waiting. The man was so still he could have been a part of the very landscape. When he moved, he flowed like water, striking so fast the Lycan was dead before he actually hit the ground, a silver stake in his heart and his head completely severed.

The three remaining conspirators pretended to surrender, fingers on the triggers of their weapons. “We haven’t done anything to you,” one pleaded, moving his head to the left to peer around the branch, trying to get a look at Dimitri. “We give up. You can have our weapons.” Three swords and two knives were thrown to the ground below.

As the first of the trio bargained, the other two slipped their guns ever so quietly forward in an effort to find a target. One thought he saw a Carpathian for just a moment, and he nudged his companion and pointed to the brush below.

Behind them, Dimitri leaned down to whisper into their ears. “I can smell lies. And the three of you stink.”

One whirled, firing as he did so, the gun exploding next to Dimitri’s chest, but Dimitri’s dagger had already gone deep, the blade finding a home in the liar’s heart. The hand holding the gun stiffened and then went limp, the body sliding toward the ground, only to be caught in the lower branches where it lay sprawled out in a macabre manner.

Nicolas took the head, allowing it to drop to the ground with the others. With great contempt, he shoved the body out of the tree with the toe of his boot, so that it, too, landed in the mess that had been live Lycans only minutes earlier.

The two remaining wolves opened fire, shooting off round after round in all directions, desperate to kill their attackers. Unfortunately for them, the Carpathians had disappeared, and in the chaos of terror, the two Lycans left alive couldn’t read the energy coming at them from all directions.

One clawed his way down the tree, shredding the bark, nearly sobbing. He landed in the middle of a puddle of blood and when he looked down, the eyes of his friends were staring accusingly at him.

“Don’t leave me, Don,” the other shouted. “We have to stick together. Wait for me.”

The Lycan named Don didn’t even look up at his companion, he ran for his life, the gun still clutched in his hand with his finger on the trigger, but he didn’t even remember it was there. He had taken no more than five steps when he hit something sharp. Painful. He stopped abruptly, stood there swaying. The gun dropped from nerveless fingers.

Don looked down at his chest. A silver spiraling stake protruded. Shocked, he stared down, cupping his hands underneath it as if he could catch the blood pouring from around the wound. Twice he shook his head and then managed to look up. A tall man stood in front of him, one with terrible burns around his head and neck.

“You really shouldn’t have shot her,” Dimitri said dispassionately. “You were dead the minute the bullets left your gun. If I hadn’t found you now, I would have hunted you down with the very last breath in my body.” He lifted the silver sword and swung it, the movement graceful and deadly. Don’s head rolled toward the others.

The Lycan left in the tree threw his gun down and tried to stand on trembling legs, raising both hands in the air. “You can’t kill me. I’m a prisoner of war. You can’t kill me.”

“There is no war between our species,” Nicolas said, his disembodied voice coming eerily out of the night.

“Unfortunately for you,” Rafael added, projecting his voice from both above and below, “my brother doesn’t believe in taking prisoners.”

The Lycan leapt from the tree, clearing the branches, his arms flung out from his body as if he had wings. In midair, a silver sword appeared. There was no way to change his trajectory. He hit the tip of the sword with his chest, his momentum impaling him on the blade, right through his heart.

“Your brother doesn’t believe in a lot of unnecessary talking either,” Zacarias said, materializing behind the sword. He gave his brothers a dark scowl. “You do like your games.” He withdrew the blade, severed the head with one stroke and wiped the blade on the body almost before it hit the ground.

Nicolas and Rafael exchanged a small secret smirk.

You’ve managed to draw a lot of attention, Fen said to his brother. Get out of there.

Zacarias looked up at the sky and immediately the clouds obeyed, churning black and blowing straight up. Lightning forked throughout a towering cloud. He directed the sizzling bolt into the middle of the pile of dead Lycans.

The flames leapt high, burning the bodies. Rafael left behind a message for the other Lycans. Traitors of the council, murderers of children. Brought to justice.

I’m not leaving you behind and Zev is losing the battle here with his numerous wounds. Get moving.

I’m on my way, Dimitri said placidly.

Fen might be his older brother, but Dimitri was an ancient warrior and had hunted vampires for centuries, mostly on his own. No matter how much he loved his brother, he went his own way and made up his own mind. These Lycans had been killers and they had dared to accost his lifemate. He wasn’t about to let them live. Sooner or later he would have caught up with them. He was grateful they had been ferreted out by Zacarias and his brothers. Who knew what more harm they would have done if they hadn’t been destroyed?

He knew Fen was worried about him, but he refused to acknowledge that Fen had been right all along and his body wasn’t yet up to bringing justice to anyone. He took to the air, heading back toward his brother. Razvan had made a clean getaway with Byron, yet Fen and Zev had refused to leave until Dimitri was safely away. Dimitri was fairly certain Zev was every bit as stubborn as his brother and neither was budging until they knew he was safe.

Rafael and Nicolas fell in behind him. Zacarias led the way. On some level Dimitri realized they were protecting him, flying in a formation that kept his battered body in the center of a triangle.

I’m waiting on you, Fen, he told his brother. If you’re having trouble and need a little help I’ll circle back and save you as usual. Just say the word. I was just giving you a little time to work it out, but seriously, I can’t have you holding everyone up.

Dimitri had to keep the amusement out of his voice, and out of his mind as well. Laughing at Fen was a dangerous proposition.

Very funny. You’re turning into a regular comedian. Have one of the De La Cruz brothers carry your sorry butt.

Dimitri knew he wasn’t going to get away with laughing at his brother, but still, it felt good to be heading home, with Fen close by. He was free, the pain was slowly subsiding and Skyler was his for all eternity.

Moving through the night sky with the wind in his face and the stars glittering overhead had always been relaxing and peaceful. He didn’t look at the battleground beneath him, strewn with wounded Lycans. He’d had enough of blood and death and pain—enough to last another lifetime. He was weary. Exhausted. Done with fighting for a while.

Where are you?

She reached for him immediately with her soothing touch as if she knew his weariness and exhaustion. She’d done so in the past. He remembered once when he’d spent months tracking a master vampire and witnessing the aftermath of the death and destruction the undead left in his wake, he’d been so sickened by the depravity he couldn’t find solace or peace, even in the ground.

She had come to him then as she did now. Skyler. His miracle. She poured into his mind gently, with that slow, almost delicate touch he had grown so familiar with. She filled him, those dark places of death, the cracks that seemed impossible to mend, so many torn places inside of him caused by the numerous kills he’d made and the things he’d seen. Somehow, when she was there, when they merged like this, she managed to wipe it all out. Everything he’d seen and done was gone, replaced by warmth and love.

Safe. I’m following close, he assured her.

Dimitri, something’s wrong. I feel it.

It’s just the distance between us. I’m a little weak. He made the admission to her that he would never make to his brother. She was there with him, in his mind, she would know anyway. It was practically impossible to hide anything from one’s lifemate, and his lifemate was especially sensitive.

It’s not the distance. Something else. Something creeping up on you. It’s close. Dangerous.

He’d put himself on autopilot, basically allowing Zacarias and his brothers to direct his flight, shielding them from any eyes that might see them while he kept his strength for the long way home. He took a quick look around. Fen, in the form of a dragon with Zev on his back, flew just to his left.

The De La Cruz brothers, like him, had chosen the form of birds, moving powerfully through the night sky. They were all on alert, but no one seemed unduly on edge.

He believed her. He had found, over the years, it paid to believe Skyler. He was a Guardian, a mixed blood, and he had special gifts. It was more than time to begin using the special abilities being the Hän ku pesäk kaikak gave him. The danger was in the feeling of superiority that crept in. He was stronger. Faster. His brain could solve problems at a tremendous rate of speed. One had to temper gifts with the inevitable price one paid for them.

His eyesight was especially keen. He took a long, slow look around, at the ground below him, to his right, his left, behind him and up ahead. His hearing was acute. He listened for any sound that might be out of place, a single note that might warn him of danger. His sense of smell was extremely sensitive, the combined wolf and Carpathian coming together to give him tremendous advantages if he just used them.

There was something. The faintest of ripples washed over him, an uneasiness that set in and held on, yet he couldn’t identify the threat.

Fen. Reach out. There’s something here. Something coming after us. Or we’re heading toward it. Skyler feels it as well.

He knew his brother would take him seriously. They had battled together on and off for centuries. As much as Fen liked to pull rank as a big brother, he respected Dimitri’s abilities and would never ignore a warning.

I feel it. But what? So subtle. What could be that subtle that none of us were aware of it? Fen asked.

The answer was clear to Dimitri—to both of them. Sange rau. Whoever has orchestrated this war is using the Sange rau to assassinate those he wants out of his way.

There were Bardolf and Abel. Fen named the two Sange rau they had defeated weeks earlier. The two had been sent to kill Mikhail Dubrinsky. How could he control a mixed blood, a vampire at that. He has to be pretty powerful to do something like that.

If he was Carpathian before he was Sange rau and we warn the others, he would hear, Dimitri pointed out.

Neither Fen nor Dimitri had ever exchanged blood with Zacarias or his brothers. They would have to use the common path—which would allow a Carpathian-born mixed blood to hear.

Skyler, can Paul reach out to his uncles? If so, have him convey the news that we are being pursued by an assassin. We’re certain the assassin is Sange rau.

There was a brief silence, presumably while she conferred with Paul. He has exchanged blood with Nicolas.

Tell them to keep moving as if nothing has changed, but one will have to take Zev from Fen. I’m going to start dropping back just a little at a time, giving the impression I’m hurt and the flight is beginning to tell on me, Dimitri said.

You are hurt. Dimitri, you can’t fight this monster, not in your condition, Skyler objected.

He laughed softly in his mind, reaching for her to surround her with love. Csitri, I’ve got no intention of fighting him. I’ll leave that to Fen. He needs to feel needed and I’d never take that away from him.

For a moment he thought Skyler wouldn’t catch on, but she did. He’s listening, isn’t he? You’re provoking your brother again.

Of course I am.

Fen gave a little derisive snort. He just can’t handle that I’m better in a fight.

Says you. As I recall, the last time, it was me saving your sorry butt, Dimitri pointed out.

You have to take this threat seriously, Skyler insisted, somewhere between laughter and exasperation.

No worries, sívamet. We’ve got this, Dimitri said with confidence.

He was confident. He’d survived the Lycans’ worst torture and he had his lifemate. It didn’t matter that his body was torn and exhausted, his mind was stronger than ever. His senses were rapidly developing.

You and I both know, the Sange rau will be difficult to kill, Fen cautioned on their private path of communication. I know you’re trying to keep Skyler from worrying, but don’t get overconfident.

In all the centuries we’ve been traveling, different continents even, how many times have either of us ever run across the Sange rau? Dimitri asked his brother.

I’ve seen four, counting Abel and Bardolf.

I’ve only come across Abel and Bardolf, and they were specifically sent to kill Mikhail, Dimitri said, waiting to let the implication sink in.

Dimitri knew the precise moment Paul conveyed the warning to Nicolas and Nicolas sent it to Zacarias. There was no change in them, but he felt the difference. He hoped their pursuer didn’t as well. He faltered just a little, looked as if he tried to recover and slipped back, away from his protectors. Nicolas and Rafael in bird form flew past him, hesitated a moment and then continued on as if he’d told them to keep going.

Fen got the meaning fast. Someone is creating them, using mixed blood to enhance them and using them as assassins. They aren’t necessarily vampire.

And they’re probably newly made. Abel and Bardolf were most likely their most experienced and oldest. They would never send an amateur after the prince in our territory. Whoever is behind this is creating his own army of mixed bloods.

Dimitri allowed the body of his bird to dip a little, seeking a lower altitude, his wings beating double the time the others did, but not actually getting anywhere. The wind shifted just a little, blowing into him, making him falter more. He tried to redouble his efforts—the others seemed to be moving away from him faster—but he was too worn-out.

The large bird of prey—a bald eagle—seemed to come out of nowhere, dropping fast, talons extended, its beak a strange color. Dimitri shifted from an owl’s body to that of the larger eagle, so fast it was impossible to detect the change until the other was nearly on top of him. Dimitri had just enough time to realize the talons and beak were silver weapons, designed to shred, stab and kill fast. He met the bird’s talons with his own, locking them together so that they tumbled from the sky, end over end. Neither could shift, and the ground seemed to be rising fast to meet them.

The assassin tore at Dimitri’s body, stabbing repeatedly in the chest, seeking the heart. He never heard or saw the attack from behind, Fen streaking through the sky, going for the kill. The Sange rau didn’t even feel the stake going through his body to penetrate his heart. When Fen removed the head and the bird landed dead on the ground, Dimitri called down the lightning to burn it.

He sank into the soft soil, sitting abruptly, pushing both hands through his hair. There was blood on his chest, seeping from a dozen slashes and stabs.

“You know, Fen, I think I’ll take that ride now,” he said when Fen strode up to him.