Dark Lycan (6 page)

“From the Lycan’s point of view, I can see why they would condemn such a powerful being. It took years to bring Vitrona to justice. During the long centuries he nearly single-handedly destroyed the Lycan world. He killed pack after pack in brutal and vicious ways.”

“He was vampire,” she pointed out. “It’s unreasonable to think every single Carpathian-Lycan cross would do the same, any more than it would be reasonable to think every mage is evil because Xavier was.”

“Surely there must be some suspicion when Carpathian meets mage,” Fen replied. “You know there would be. The Lycans are fully integrated into the human world. They take jobs in the field of law enforcement and they keep small packs within the cities, all with jobs of humankind. They are ruled by a shadowy government of their own and those who rule use human resources. Nearly all the elite hunters are considered wildlife experts or specialists and they travel the world secretly hunting rogue werewolves.”

“How many are like you?”

Fen hesitated. He didn’t know exactly what that answer was, and he feared the truth. “As far as I know for certain, there is only me, and now Manolito De La Cruz and his lifemate.” He had a small suspicion that his brother might have already crossed into his world as well, but he didn’t know for certain.

“So few,” Tatijana mused. “That does present a problem. If there were more, perhaps the Lycans would think twice before they decided to try to kill all of you, but with only three, they could strike and no one would know.”

“You are kin to this Lara?”

Tatijana nodded. “She is the daughter of my brother’s son, Razvan. My brother, Soren, was killed by Xavier and Xavier held Razvan and Lara prisoner as well.”

“Get word to the De La Cruz family through Lara to be very careful and do not let anyone know of their cross-species.”

“Did you think that I would leave you to face this alone?” Tatijana asked. “What kind of a lifemate would I be if I abandoned you?”

He felt an unexpected urge to laugh. “The kind of lifemate who does not want to be claimed.”

“That was before I knew you were in trouble.” She tossed her long braid over her shoulder, her eyes glittering like emeralds. “I am Dragonseeker. We do not run.”

“I’m beginning to understand how true that is,” Fen conceded. “Still, the Lycans have existed for centuries, adapting and evolving with each new generation, and they are well integrated into human society. They use their human counterparts to aid them in investigations and tracking down those they deem criminals.”

“Like you.”

“Vakasin did not tell his slayers about me and they have not discovered my identity. Elite hunters tracking a rogue pack came across me when I was hunting the rogue pack as well, but they have no knowledge of my identity. Perhaps Zev suspects what I am, but he doesn’t know. There is only a short window of opportunity for hunters to find me. They can identify me only one week out of every month. It’s only during the weeklong cycle of the full moon that my energy feels different to the Lycans and they know immediately what I am.”

Tatijana frowned, her delicate eyebrows drawing together. “Why are you here? In the Carpathian Mountains? You didn’t come back to inform the prince of your duality. And you didn’t come back to swear your allegiance to him. You’re a hunter. You hunt the vampire. Ancient hunters don’t change their ways.”

Fen sighed. Tatijana looked a fragile flower but she had a spine of steel, and she was highly intelligent. She might not know about fire, but she hadn’t wasted her time during her centuries-long incarceration. She had studied each of her father’s victims carefully. She had learned to read them and draw on their abilities and experiences. She had looked for hunters and those who knew how to fight in order to further her chances of escaping. He could almost feel her brain putting the pieces of a puzzle together with lightning speed.

“You suspect there is another—the one you call
Sange rau
,” she said, shrewdly. “You followed him here, didn’t you? By doing so you put yourself directly in the path of that hunter, the one from the tavern you said was dangerous.”

He took her hand and turned her back toward the village. They had to get out of the woods—at least she had to. The blanket of mist had begun to churn and roil—fast-spinning eddies within the heavy fog. He held still for a moment, listening, his every sense tuned to the threads of information whirling in the mist.

“It is a suspicion, no more, but yes, I suspect Zev is here hunting the same rogue pack I was trailing when I ran across a strange, but familiar pattern. I believe Zev is Lycan and very lethal—especially to one such as me.”

“This week of the month wouldn’t be during the full moon would it?” she asked.

He found himself grinning in spite of the seriousness of the situation. His lifemate had a little bite to her tone. She had just a bit of an attitude. He nodded his head. “Why, yes, my lady, it would.”

She shook her head. “If the big bad wolf is coming for you, do you really think it’s a good idea to be walking through the woods with me?”

Fen did laugh. Her coat was red and had a fleece-lined hood. “Where in the world did you hear the story of Little Red Riding Hood?”

“We had reading materials. Scrolls. Skins. Thin parchment. And then books. In the beginning, he thought we would become like him, only subordinate to him. He didn’t realize that our mother had also left us a legacy before he murdered her. She made certain we were fully Carpathian but she concealed what she had done from him. We had the ability to communicate telepathically and to draw memories from Xavier’s victims. When he realized we were not going to aid him in his efforts to wipe out the Carpathian species, he kept us drained and weak so we had no chance of escape.”

“He made a mistake educating you.”

“Yes he did, and we learned far more than he realized. His spells, the ability to counter them, shifting, the strengths and weaknesses of each species. We acquired a great deal of knowledge and waited for the moment we might be strong enough to strike at him—or defend ourselves. In the end, we were able to get Razvan’s child free. Lara was so young, and we had hoped to go with her to protect her, but Xavier used Razvan to stab Bronnie and I couldn’t leave her there, although she begged me to go without her. We were imprisoned for many years again until Lara came back for us.”

The wind shifted again, sending the mist spinning around them. They both stopped abruptly and looked at one another.

Blood
, Fen identified.
Human.
Death. The rogue pack was there in the forest.
He’s just ahead, but I fear he’s dead.
He used telepathic communication and the moment he was in her mind, he felt flooded with warmth—complete. All those empty places were filled with her. The terrible blackness receded and light poured in.

He’s the third man from the tavern, the one who left when I called out to them.
She was intelligent enough to follow his lead. There was sorrow in her voice, guilt even.
This is the man who tried to talk sense into his friends.

The pack smelled like wolves, animals, tearing at their prey for fun, not food, and then rushing on their way to wreak more violence just because they could. Real wolves would be blamed and human hunters would destroy entire innocent packs because the rogue werewolves took joy in killing.

He squeezed her hand hard.
You are not responsible for this.

I drove them out into the open and he left the safety of the others.

Fen’s gut twisted.
Take to the sky. Get out of here. I need to go back and find the other two. The pack will sniff them out and kill them just for the fun of it.

I will go with you.

The resolution in her voice had him swinging around rather than trying to dissuade her. He could feel the absolute determination in her mind. Perhaps if he wasn’t basking in her company, enjoying everything about her, he would have been far more firm—not—he was certain—that it would do him any good.

They broke into a run, using blurring speed to retrace their path back to the two drunken men. It took only minutes. The two sat beside a tree passing a flask back and forth, one occasionally bursting into song.

Tatijana instinctively broke away from his side, moving to his left and allowing him to approach the two men alone. Fen was grateful to her. Already, he knew the pack was hunting. The rogues had both heard and smelled the men. They knew both men were physically impaired, drunk from the alcohol they’d consumed, and would be easy prey. Tatijana and he could take to the skies if necessary, but the two men were extremely vulnerable.

He muted his appearance, blending with the mist until he was directly in front of them, sending a swirl of mist ahead of him so that he could emerge naturally out of the fog. Both looked up at him.

“Fen, what are you doing out so late? You want a drink?” One held out the flask.

“You’re Enre,” Fen greeted. “Do you live far?” He projected his voice directly at the two men, although there was really no hope that the pack wouldn’t know Tatijana was in the forest. He had known, from the moment the werewolf pack leader had given his hunting cry and the others had answered that the rogue pack was close by and hunting. To them, he would smell human.

“Gellert here, too,” the other said drunkenly, opening his eyes and removing the flask from Enre’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Let’s get you two home,” Fen encouraged. “It’s too cold to stay out all night. Your families will worry.”

“My woman kicked me out,” Gellert said, his words slurred. “She said I drink too much.” He was indignant. “I don’t drink too much. She accused me of sleeping with the barmaid, Faye.”

“You did sleep with Faye,” Enre said.

Gellert took a long pull from the flask. “There was no sleeping,” he said slyly.

“He’s staying with me,” Enre admitted. “I’ve got no family.”

He didn’t sound quite as drunk as he had been earlier. He struggled to his feet and reached down for Gellert. Gellert groaned and let both Fen and Enre help him up.

“You shouldn’t have let your friend talk you into attacking the lady,” Fen said to Enre.

Enre shrugged. “It was all just talk. I wouldn’t have attacked her. I would have just given him a good clout upside the head and dragged him home if he’d really gone through with it.”

“The redhead wants me,” Gellert slurred. “She comes back night after night, and dances for me.”

“The redhead is my woman,” Fen said. “It isn’t a good idea to say those kinds of things in front of me.”

Gellert peered up at him with red, runny eyes. He burped loudly, the smell wafting toward Fen like a green cloud. “Sorry man. Didn’t know. Come on, Enre, let’s get on home.”

A sound broke the night. Chilling. Close. Too close. The howl of the werewolf on the hunt. Enre, the more sober of the two, shivered and looked around warily. That joyful, frightening note floated on the wind, full and round-bodied, different from that of a normal wolf, far more unnerving.

“We have to go now,” Fen urged, gripping Gellert on one side while Enre took his other arm. “Tatijana, leave us now while you can. Defending against a pack, even for one such as you, is not easy.”

She lifted her chin, but her eyes stared out into the night. Like Fen, her senses had reached out far beyond the immediate area in an effort to locate the pack individuals—something he knew would be impossible. “I will not leave you to this fight alone. They won’t be of any help.” She indicated the two men with a jerk of her chin, still not looking at them.

“Do either of you have a weapon?” Fen hissed. He glanced toward Tatijana. They weren’t going to make it out of there without a fight. Depending on the pack size, they could be in real trouble.

Above them, a large owl landed in the branches of the neighboring tree. He folded his wings for a moment, surveying the small group below him. A burst of mist rose around the tree and out of it, a man emerged. He strode toward Fen, tall, his shoulders broad, and his eyes every bit as piercing, intelligent and ice-cold blue as Fen’s. Hair as black as midnight flowed down his back, and he moved with a smooth, fluid step.

Fen stepped forward and they clasped forearms in the centuries-old greeting of warriors.

“
Kolasz arwa-arvoval
—may you die with honor,” the tall warrior greeted. “I would not want to miss such a battle with you,
ekäm
—my brother.”

“
Kolasz arwa-arvoval
—may you die with honor, Dimitri,
ekäm
—my brother,” Fen said. “You are most welcome to this battle.”

3

“W
e fight together then,” Fen agreed. He held out his hand to Tatijana. “This is my lifemate, who remains unclaimed and quite happy about it. Tatijana, my brother, Dimitri.”

Dimitri’s gaze, glacier-cold, swept over her. “You are Dragonseeker.”

Tatijana’s answering nod was regal. Fen hid his grin in spite of the graveness of the situation. She looked like a royal princess.

“Have you ever battled the werewolf?” he asked Tatijana, already certain of the answer. She’d given him enough of her history to know she had no practical experience.

Tatijana made a face at him. “Of course not. I’ve been locked in ice my entire life, but I can help. Just tell me what to do.”

“They mask energy easily. You will not feel the attack before it is on you. They move as fast as Carpathians and they cannot be killed without a special silver stake or bullet. Heads are removed and bodies burned.”

Tatijana nodded solemnly, taking him seriously.

“Dimitri, remember our war games. Fight as if you are fighting the
Sange rau.
”

“That makes it difficult without special silver stakes,” Dimitri pointed out a little drolly.

“I always carry a few weapons,” Fen admitted. “One has to, when rogues are in the vicinity.” He reached into the pockets of his jacket and pulled out several very small stakes. They were made of pure silver, shaped like a unicorn horn, a gleaming spiral worth a fortune.