Dark Lycan (14 page)

The earth shuddered, trembled and then beneath the surface, one side drove the other upward. Great cracks appeared. Trees split in half.

From her vantage point in the sky, Tatijana could see the huge zigzagging crack, a great yawning abyss opening and rocketing toward Fen and the vampire/wolf as their fierce battle continued.

Fen!
Tatijana screamed his name in her mind, half warning, half sobbing.

She flamed the dead body jerking and clawing its way toward Gregori and continued diving straight down. Tucking her wings and dropping like a stone, she hurtled toward that widening crack just as it engulfed Fen and the
Sange rau
. Gregori leapt after them, just as the werewolves broke through the shield to get to their master. They tumbled into the narrow crack in their rush to get to the rogue leader.

Fen dropped through the crack, shoulders scraping on either side of the walls of dirt, roots and rock. He hung grimly onto Abel, claws digging deeper into the chest, determined to get to the heart even as he tore chunks from the vampire’s neck and throat. Neither could dissolve into vapor as their claws prevented the other from getting away.

Tatijana blasted past Gregori, wings still tucked tight against her body, as she dove after Fen. As she approached the two combatants, she stretched her neck as far as it would go, her giant, wedged-shaped head shoving itself up against the side of Abel’s head. She let loose a blast of fire, taking great care even as they were tumbling, to make certain she concentrated the exhale of flames only over the vampire’s skull.

Fen couldn’t help but admire her skill. She was still diving, moving fast, and he felt the blast of heat, but not one hint of flame touched him. Abel screamed, the sound horrible. The smell was worse. The earth began to close below them with ominous groans and creaks. The very planet seemed to shudder.

Let him go,
Tatijana ordered.
Right now, you have to let him go or we’ll all be killed. All three of us.

He was so close. His fingers were around that withered heart. He couldn’t quite yank it free.
Abel’s too powerful to leave alive. I just have to get a better grip . . .

Tatijana used her triangular head to knock the vampire/wolf out of Fen’s hands. Abel dropped away, the wind fanning the flames totally engulfing his head. Tatijana used her long neck to wind around Fen, catching him before he could drop away. He caught the spines and pulled himself around until he could slide onto her back. Her wings braked their fall.

Fen looked up to see Gregori dropping fast, his bloody body ravaged and torn. He held out his hand.
Gregori!

His hand caught Gregori’s wrist, Gregori’s fingers wrapped tightly around his. Fen dragged him onto the dragon’s back. He heard Gregori grunt in pain, but the hunter gripped him hard as the blue dragon made her valiant effort to outrun the closing of the earth. The walls scraped her wings, tearing chunks of skin from her. She cried out, but she continued the ascent.

Every werewolf she passed, most clinging to the dirt walls of the deep fissure, tried to claw and scrape at her, sometimes driving teeth into her in a desperate attempt to either impede her progress or hitch a ride. They were all trying to climb fast up those dirt walls before the crack closed all the way. Below them, both sides of the abyss accelerated the speed with which they were slamming closed.

Tatijana burst into the air above the gaping hole in the ground and nearly toppled from the sky. She landed awkwardly, her sides heaving just as the two sides of the crevasse jolted together with a terrible grinding sound. The blue dragon staggered forward in an effort to keep her passengers safe, leaving behind a thick trail of blood. She shuddered, stumbled and went down, the wedge-shaped head slamming hard and plowing through the soil as her body continued driving forward.

Tatijana!
A woman’s cry filled Fen’s mind using his lifemate’s path to him. Torn. Frightened. Shocked.
Is she dead? I’m coming to her.

He knew at once that voice was Branislava, Tatijana’s sister.
Do not. I can heal her and protect her. Gregori is here as well, but not both of you. Trust me to do this.

Fen leapt from the dragon’s back, landing on his feet, the long distance jolting him hard. He glanced down at his body and was shocked to see the blood and chunks of gaping flesh where Abel had clawed, bit and raked him.

Branislava was in his mind for a moment drawing as much information about him as possible before she abruptly acquiesced.
If you let anything happen to her I will hunt you for all your days until I destroy you.

I accept that.

He broke the connection between them as he rushed around the dragon’s body to the head and caught it in his arms, bringing it up so the huge eyes stared into his.

“Shift, Tatijana. Shift right now. If you never ever obey me again in this lifetime, you do it this once. Shift for me
now
.” He poured everything he was into that command. His fear for her. His anger that he had allowed her to get hurt. His growing love. His respect. His need that she stay alive and stay with him.

Gregori jumped from her back, landing heavily, barely managing to stay on his feet. He staggered around the large body of the dragon to the head as well.

The great eyes of the dragon blinked and then closed, but Fen felt her body shudder with the effort to obey. He slipped into her mind. Consciousness was fading fast.
Come to me, sívamet—my love
.
Give yourself to me. I will hold you safe.

There was one moment of uncertainty, as if she might not trust him enough to place herself so fully into his hands. He waited for her to make up her mind, although there was no time and his heart pounded so hard in his chest it sounded like thunder to him. She capitulated suddenly and he felt her let go, giving her spirit essence into his care.

Immediately the great blue dragon was gone and Tatijana’s body was in his arms. He didn’t wait. He tore open his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. He sank to the ground, holding her to him. Gregori went to his knees beside them. He immediately shed his wounded body and became pure light. He entered Tatijana’s body and began to work feverishly to stem the flow of blood. He didn’t stop, not even when two more hunters dove from the sky to aid them.

Jacques Dubrinsky, brother to the prince, and Falcon Amiras, an ancient hunter, looked around the battlefield. Some werewolves were beginning to stir. Some bodies were already regenerating.

“Tell us what to do to kill them,” Jacques said. “Nothing like coming late to the party.”

“Silver spikes. Drive them completely through their hearts and then remove the head of the rogue. Burn the bodies with the spikes in them,” Fen said.

He was tired. Exhausted. He kept his focus on Tatijana, holding her close while he fed her life-giving blood. He was grateful to Gregori, so torn up, but selflessly healing Tatijana, putting her before his own injuries.

Falcon came to stand beside Fen. “You and Gregori need a little healing of your own,” he pointed out, offering his own wrist. “I offer freely,” he added in the tradition of the Carpathian people.

Fen hesitated. It had been long since he’d trusted anyone but Dimitri.

“You need it,” Falcon told him. “For her. Do you remember me? You were a few years older. You helped to hone my fighting skills.”

Fen inclined his head. He had to shift Tatijana in his arms, propping her against his chest while he continued to give her as much blood as he could. It was slow going, as he basically had to swallow for her. He bent his head to Falcon’s proffered wrist. The ancient blood hit him with a rush of strength, in spite of his horrendous wounds.

He could feel the difference in Tatijana, the way Gregori meticulously repaired the damage done to her belly and sides. Her arms were torn with bite marks and multiple lacerations. Gregori’s body was ravaged and torn as well, but he took his time, ensuring he missed nothing.

The moment he was back in his own body, swaying with weariness, Jacques was there, one arm going around the healer and the other offering him blood. “This looks like one heck of a battle,” he said. “In all my years, I’ve never run into a rogue pack.”

Fen politely sealed the small wounds in Falcon’s wrist. “This is a big pack. Two vampires/wolves called the
Sange rau
by the Lycans who run with them.”

All three Carpathians exchanged long looks and then turned their full attention on Fen. He shifted Tatijana in his arms. “The vampires are crosses, both Lycan and vampire. I knew Bardolf, an alpha Lycan. That was many years ago. A vampire cross had torn through packs, completely destroying entire packs, and I joined the hunt for him. Evidence looked as though Bardolf had killed him. Instead, they must have joined forces. I tracked them here.”

“Who is guarding the prince with both of you here?” Gregori demanded of Falcon and Jacques. “He sent you after me, didn’t he?”

Fen hid a smile at the sheer frustration in Gregori’s voice.

“At least he didn’t come himself, this time,” Jacques pointed out. “That’s a first for him. Must be his son mellowing him out.” He grinned down at Gregori. “You’re a little worse for wear. I can’t let you go home this way. Savannah would have my head. Let me see what I can do to heal you while Falcon works on . . .” Deliberately he waited.

“Fen. Fenris Dalka,” Fen stated. He pinned Falcon with a steely gaze. “It’s imperative I remain Lycan to those in this area. The elite hunters are on their way. A man by the name of Zev is staying at the inn. He’s the scout sent out ahead of the hunters. To do that, he has to be the elite of the elite. Believe me, I saw him in action, and he’s even better than I could describe. They’re hunting their own killers just as we hunt ours.”

“Why would you want them to think you’re Lycan rather than Carpathian?” Gregori asked. He ignored the fact that Jacques hadn’t waited to get his permission to heal his wounds.

Fen shrugged. “Lycans do not tolerate a mix between Lycan and Carpathian. They believe once they turn vampire, they are far too destructive and too difficult to kill. I have no idea how Carpathians weigh in on the issue.”

Gregori frowned at him. “I have never really seen or heard of a Lycan/Carpathian cross until MaryAnn and Manolito De La Cruz sent us word that she was Lycan and their blood mixed rather than one taking over the other. Is there some reason why we should have a problem with a Lycan/Carpathian cross? We’ve always been friends with the Lycan and vice versa. Carpathians and vampires are not the same, they know that.”

“Master vampires are extraordinarily difficult to kill,” Fen said. Already the influx of Falcon’s blood and the healing the Carpathian had done had given him more strength, but he was utterly exhausted. He needed to go to ground. And he needed to get Tatijana to ground. “A vampire/wolf cross is a hundred times that difficult. The destruction and damage, the savagery of their kills is also a hundred times more. They are rare to come across, so few hunters know how to kill them.”

“But you do,” Gregori stated.

Fen sighed. “Knowing isn’t always enough, as you well know, hunter.”

“Gregori,” Jacques interrupted gently. “All three of you need to go to ground. Perhaps this discussion would better take place in my brother’s home at a later time.”

Gregori nodded his head. “Forgive me, Fenris, you do need to take Tatijana, who is clearly your lifemate, and go to ground.”

“I thank you for coming to our aid. I didn’t know about Abel at the time I tracked them here. And I only suspected Bardolf’s involvement with the rogue pack when I crossed their path and began tracking them. Also”—he frowned—“the pack is much larger than we first thought.”

Gregori stood up slowly, his body still reluctant to work properly after the terrible savagery of the rogue pack attack. “Please come to Mikhail’s home on your first rising to give us more information. We’d be grateful.”

Fen sighed. By rights, if he met the prince, he should swear fidelity, but he had to think like a Lycan. Be a Lycan. And the cycle of the full moon was starting. If he crossed paths with Zev, or his elite hunters, they would kill him and ask questions later. Life had gotten far more complicated.

The Carpathians were silent, waiting his decision. In the end, he simply nodded and took to the air, Tatijana in his arms. He made certain no one was following him before he circled around to the spot where he’d left his brother. He opened the earth above Dimitri—better to guard him—and settled in with Tatijana. Above him the soil poured in, covering them both. Leaves and debris swirled above their resting place and fell softly, naturally, covering the area as if it had never been disturbed.

6

F
en woke three risings beneath the earth, still sore, feeling bruised and battered, but he left Tatijana and Dimitri to find sustenance for them. He’d reassured Branislava each rising that Tatijana was mending well and would come to her as soon as she was properly healed.

He was well aware on his third night that he was now in the most perilous time where any Lycan would know immediately he wasn’t wholly one of them. He took care to conceal himself. As a rule, during this time, he stayed in the ground, avoiding any possible confrontation, but he didn’t have that luxury—and he knew the elite team would have joined Zev by this time.

He was a little surprised that, although it had been centuries for him, the Carpathian Mountains still felt like a home to him. He had traveled throughout the world, rather than remaining in one place, so he’d never truly found another environment to call home. The soil was extraordinary, and he’d forgotten what that mineral rich loam could feel like. Still . . .

He was worried about Dimitri. Dimitri’s belly wasn’t healing as well as he would have liked. He concealed himself in the fog, moving through the forest until he came upon the outskirts where a small farm had been carved out of the marsh. The farm backed up to a swampy area, but was neat and tidy. Stacks of hay were piled in the field farthest from the water. Horses tossed heads nervously and stomped hooves as he passed, the Lycan scent spooking them.