Lords of the Were (13 page)

But Erik was fearless. Much as Elian had been.

After some initial distrust, Erik had proven himself by saving Dante’s life. He’d provided a safe hiding place when Dante had been caught out too close to dawn. Erik could have killed him easily that day, but he didn’t. He’d proven himself a friend and in subsequent days, Dante enjoyed helping the young firewitch test the bounds of his powers, much as he had helped Elian perfect his fighting skills. For the first time in centuries, Dante felt like he had something of his brother back, if only for a short time.

Erik didn’t like the were. His hatred of them ran deep because the local wolf pack that lived just outside of town was led by a murderous son of a bitch who had killed a young girl Erik was sweet on years before.

It had been that good for nothing were wolf who had roused the lords of the were against him, ending Erik’s young life.

But Erik went down fighting. It was his acts of self-defense against a large contingent of were folk that started the Great Chicago Fire on October 8, 1871.

Given the dry summer and the inadequacies of fire fighting at that time, the fire quickly spread. Dante supposed in hindsight he could have done something to stop it at its inception, but when he arrived at the scene too late—too damned late to save Erik from being torn to pieces by the were—he didn’t care. He wanted them to burn. He wanted them all to burn for killing his friend, his little brother, all over again.

Tormented by grief, Dante let the fire go unchecked. He had no way of knowing it would destroy so much, but in those nights that followed Erik’s death, he was too numb to care. Only years later did he feel the guilt. Guilt first for not being there to save Erik from being hunted by those curs and then there was the guilt he could never quite acknowledge for allowing so much of a city he had called home to burn.

So many people were injured by the fire, both physically and mentally.

He fled Chicago not long after and had never returned.

Now there was another young magic user in his life, but this one in no way reminded him of his little brother. No, Vabian was as vain and self-centered as any mortal, and twice as inane.

He claimed to be a member of the Altor Custodis and Dante was inclined to believe him on that one score. How else could he have the very specialized information about those events so long ago? Only the society of guardians was known to keep records of such occurrences.

Dante supposed there might be a few of his kind still around who might know the circumstances of that fiery night back in 1871, but vampires were usually disinclined to deal with magic users of any sort. Dante thought he would be able to detect the traces of another vampire on the mage, if such were the case. He detected no such taint.

Touching down in Billings, Montana an hour before midnight, Dante arranged for storage of his new custom Lear 60XR jet. It was a honey of an aircraft, built for comfort and speed, and he truly enjoyed taking it out for a spin every now and again. He was a man who appreciated speed.

The vintage Harley that rolled out of the cargo area of his jet a few moments later lent credence to that fact. Dante figured he had about six hours before dawn to meet up with Vabian, scout around his safe house—something he would never trust a human to arrange—and feed before the sun forced him inside. He had a few hours to travel up into the woods on the motorcycle, which he was looking forward to. The empty roads out here invited him to push the bike to its limits and for the first time in years, he felt rumbles of anticipation. It was a clear, star-filled, glorious night with open roads and a powerful machine to help him fly across the ground.

Vabian heard the powerful thrum of the motorcycle as it pulled into the lot across from the small motel where he’d holed up for the duration of this operation. They were just outside the national park in lower Montana. It was cold at night, but bearable. Of course the cold wouldn’t matter to Dante, undead creature that he was.

He didn’t like the vampire, but he was a means to an end. Without Dante’s superior strength and skills, Vabian wouldn’t stand much of a chance against the were, and he had to get through the were to get to the priestess.

He hadn’t told Dante his ultimate goal, but his mission was clear.

The new priestess had to die. Lilias’ legacy could not be allowed to live on in her daughter. Vabian’s masters had given him the task of eliminating the girl who had eluded them for so long. It was the first time he’d been entrusted such a momentous task and he would not fail. He’d been

working toward this, waiting for his opportunity to climb higher in the ranks of the Venifucus. This was his chance to prove himself and he would not—could not—fail.

Oh, he pretended to be a member of the weaker society, the Altor Custodis, but they only watched and recorded, never intervening when they knew all too well the monsters whose secrets they guarded. Vabian had started with them and still kept in touch with his contacts there, but as a magic user, he was privy to secrets lesser mortals would never know. He was now part of the Venifucus, the magic users blessed with the power and wisdom to reign over all other beings.

They worked in secret for now, but their day was coming. The day when all other beings would bow down before the Venifucus Priori and swear allegiance to them alone. On that day, Vabian vowed, he would be one of that exalted number. He would be A Priori, elevated over mortals and other magic users to the highest ranks of the Venifucus. Only the Mater Priori would be greater than he, and she, it was said, was an ancient being of enormous power. He looked forward to her return to this mortal realm. He knew he could distinguish himself with the Mater Priori.

There were few women who could resist Patrick Vabian, after all, and as her consort, he would have power the likes of which had been unknown in this realm for centuries.

The only thing standing in the way of such glory was the Lady and Her priestesses. And of course, their protectors. It was a goal of all Venifucus to kill priestesses wherever they were found and destroy those who would harbor and protect them.

The Venifucus had managed to kill off Lilias—the most powerful priestess in millennia because of her twin were mates—but their whelp had escaped. Still, much strength had been granted to the Venifucus cause by such a glorious triumph. It was rumored the Paeter Priori himself had been the one to kill Lilias and her mates. Vabian knew such

grand service to the Venifucus gained the old man his position of power over all other Priori, leading the council and steering the society’s course while they plotted for the return of the Mater.

Vabian wanted that glory for himself. If he could destroy Lilias’

daughter and her newfound mates, it would go a long way toward securing his position. And Vabian would do whatever he needed to in order to achieve his goal—even team with a perverted bloodletter. Once Dante had served his purpose, Vabian would vanquish the vampire as well. He looked forward to the day with relish, even as he opened the door of his cheap hotel suite to invite the ancient one inside.

“Glad you made it.”

“I bet.” Dante’s sarcasm rolled through the small suite as he unzipped his leather jacket. Vabian decided to let the comment pass.

Dante’s time was coming soon enough.

“Everything’s set.”

Vabian closed the door and nodded toward a map he had laid out on the room’s only table. Dante sauntered over and studied it as Vabian deliberately went to the small refrigerator and pulled out a container of orange juice he’d bought earlier. He knew simple OJ was like acid to the undead but Dante didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction as Vabian downed half the container with noisy swallows.

“They’re in the national park?” Dante looked back at the map.

“On the edge. They have a collection of houses up there. The one we’re interested in is highlighted in pink, right there.” Vabian leaned over to point one pink highlighter-stained finger at the map he’d been working on for the past hour. “As you can see, there’s only one viable approach.”

“Maybe for you.”

Dante’s narrowed eyes held secrets Vabian didn’t like. All his information said Dante was a simple vampire with no advanced skills except those he’d had when he turned. He’d been a warrior, a knight, in

the twelfth century and was known as a fearless fighter. That’s all Vabian needed him for—to keep the were wolves occupied in battle while he went after the woman.

“I’d planned to go up through here,” Vabian pointed to a route he’d also highlighted in pink, “then cut through the woods a bit to this point so they won’t see us coming.”

Dante nodded. “Yes. You should take that route.” He traced to a point on the map, very near the target house. “I will meet you here. We go together from there.”

“But—”

Dante let the map drop back to the table. “I’ll meet you there. That’s all you need to know.” He stepped forward and without conscious thought, Vabian retreated. The vampire smiled in his sinister way. “Now for my payment.”

“You just fed from me three days ago. Every five days was our agreement!”

“I’m altering the agreement.” Dante stalked him in the small room.

“Pray I don’t alter it any further.”

Early the next evening, just after sunset, Dante made his way over the trees in the form of a large black hawk. Few, if any, knew he had mastered his powers to the point he could transform into just about any animal he wished, and he wanted to keep the knowledge secret. Those busybody Altor Custodis—the Guardians, as some of them called themselves—didn’t need to know the full extent of his abilities.

It was his own private triumph that he could float on the air currents as a bird, or even as mist, given an urgent enough reason to tax his strength to such an extent. It wasn’t easy to form mist, keep it together and yet separate enough to appear normal. Unless there was some

serious threat, Dante preferred to take the more corporeal forms of animals.

Perching high in a large tree, Dante scoped out the target home with his keen hawk’s vision. He could sense were all around, but saw none.

He wondered idly if they realized he was about. Certainly there would have been more activity around the house had the alarm been raised. So far, he was probably undetected, which suited his plans well.

He had an hour or so before he would meet that bumbling human, Vabian. Dante intended to use the time well. He would reconnoiter the home and surroundings, confirming Vabian’s information for himself before launching the planned attack.

So far, everything looked just as Vabian had said. Falling out of the tree and transforming into a fluffy grey squirrel on the way to the ground, Dante sniffed the trails around the house, walking right up to the foundation and climbing up the trellis.

Two men and a female inhabited the building. He could scent two were wolves, very similar yet just slightly individual. These must be the twins Vabian said were the lords of the were for this generation. Dante looked forward to the challenge of fighting them. It’d been too long since he tested his skills against a worthy opponent. Hopefully these two would give him a run for his money.

The female was harder to place. Her scent tasted of were, but also of something else. Not wolf, though that made little sense if she were one of the males’ mates. Her scent was more complex. Were cat perhaps, but then again, perhaps not. There was something strange about her scent that bothered Dante on some basic level.

But his explorations would have to wait. It was almost time to meet up with Vabian, and though Dante didn’t care much for the human mage, he was looking forward to the battle ahead. Scurrying away

through the undergrowth, Dante waited until he was farther away before shifting shape yet again.

Moments later, he arrived in his human form at the prearranged meeting place. Vabian was already there, pacing.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Dante looked down at the weaker man with disdain.

“The house is unprotected. Only three are within.”

“Three? Two men and a woman?”

Dante nodded slowly. Vabian had a fanatical light in his eyes that was mildly disturbing, but then he was one of those self-proclaimed Guardians. Who knew what drove such people?

“Let’s go.”

Vabian took off through the woods, making more noise than a herd of elephants, but Dante only shrugged and followed. There was little hope a human—even a mage—could approach a house full of were without them knowing. Of course a vampire of Dante’s age and skill could probably do it, but it wouldn’t be easy.

But Dante didn’t mind the noise or the warning it would give his prey. He was here for a fight and though he was many things, he wasn’t a dishonorable man. When he fought, he fought fair. Or at least, as fair as a centuries-old vampire of superior skill could against youngsters like the were wolves he would face tonight.

“Someone’s coming.” Rafe’s head perked up as he stood near the kitchen window, open to let in the early evening breeze. He sniffed the air currents, his hearing picking up sounds only a skilled were wolf could hear.

“Not one of ours.” Tim nodded, his lips thinning to a tight line as he stood beside his twin.

“Lost hiker?”

Tim shook his head. “Nah, they’re trying to sneak up on us. Hikers don’t sneak and only humans sneak around so loudly.” Rafe and Tim stalked through the house, pausing at the foot of the stairs. Allie was just coming down but stopped short when they blocked her path, their faces grim.

“What is it?”

“We’re not sure yet.” Rafe touched her shoulder, wishing he could comfort her, but the tension rode thick in the air. “Could be nothing, but we need you to stay inside. Lock all the doors and windows and if something goes wrong, call Betina on your cell phone. Tell her to mobilize the pack. Then run for Otto’s. Take the wooded path. He’ll know what to do.”

She clutched at his arm. “Are we in danger?” Tim stepped to her other side. “We don’t know yet, but we have to be prepared for anything.”

Rafe stroked her hair, taking just a moment to kiss her brow.