Dark Blood(121)

“But you have things to do here,” she protested, although everything in her yearned to get out of that room and away from the smell of blood and death.

“Arno can wait. It will take a little time to prepare the bodies for the funeral pyre. All Lycans present as well as the council members will want to pay their respects. A member from the Sacred Circle will want to say a few prayers over the bodies before they’re burned.” Zev brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “Right at this moment, Branislava, there is nothing more important than taking you out into the night where we can both breathe. We have a little bit of time before the ceremony must take place.”

She was grateful that he included himself. She nodded and he wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her under his shoulder and took her right out of the room, down the hall and out into the fading night. The moment she was outside, she drew in a deep lungful of air to try to counteract her protesting stomach.

“That was so awful . . . that blood worm.”

He nodded, holding her closer. “It was. It always amazes me what the mind of someone evil can conceive.”

“Jules died, you know. He died hard.” She looked at him with stricken eyes. “We couldn’t save him, and they laughed. They enjoyed his pain and terror. He’d served them, admired and respected them. He had no idea what they were like until he realized they kept us prisoners inside the bodies of dragons and behind the wall of ice.”

He ran his fingers through her silky hair. “I know, mon bébé, we’ll find him and destroy him. We won’t let him keep hurting people.”

“Xavier was a monster. He really was, but while he enjoyed other’s pain, it was his experiments he was obsessed with. Don’t get me wrong, he loved hurting others, but not like Xaviero. Xaviero had to torture. It was the only thing that ever made him happy. Xavier despised Carpathians and he was determined to ruin them, to wipe them from the face of the earth. But he was somewhat dispassionate about his tortures as a rule.”

“He sounds despicable.”

She nodded, threading her fingers through his and walking a little faster as if she might outrun the conversation. “He was despicable. But Xaviero was worse. He needed to torture others, especially women and children. He thrived on it. Nothing made him happier. I could tell when it had been too long for him. He was moody and irritable even with his brothers, and Tatijana and I would stay as still and as quiet as possible. Eventually Xavier or Xayvion would tell him to go have fun and we knew what that meant. There is no possible way that he could have been in the Lycan world and not tortured others. He wouldn’t have been able to help himself.”

“I believe you.” Zev ran his hand through his hair. “Bodies turned up in other packs and other countries. I know, I investigated. Most were women, some children. We put it down to vampires stalking the packs. Or rogues. It’s happened before. I even considered a serial killer, a human. We never found enough evidence. Sight, scent, it just wasn’t there, but I did suspect many of the killings were connected.”

“Xaviero thought snatching children out from under their parent’s noses was such a thrilling feat. He got the pleasure of tormenting the child, torturing him or her and then allowing the parents to discover the body. He wanted to see their sorrow. He often spared them so they would have to live with guilt and turn their grief into anger at one another.”

Zev was silent a moment. “Rannalufr counseled those who lost children. The suicide rate definitely rose sharply, but no one ever suspected soft-spoken, kind Rannalufr of pushing grieving parents to kill themselves.”

“He would have enjoyed that power immensely.”

“And Xayvion?” Zev asked, knowing she needed to talk.

He kept her walking, away from the village, doubling back toward the forest where he knew she felt safer. Trees closed around them, branches reaching up to the night sky. A few stars had emerged from the strange, violent storm that had come out of nowhere earlier. The last of the dark clouds dissipated to allow the half-moon to reappear.

Zev knew Fen had called in Daciana and Makoce, the two Lycans he trusted the most, to attend Arno and Arnau’s bodies. The Carpathians would have to go to ground soon. Branislava was worn out, and in truth, he was as well. Traveling outside one’s body took a toll, especially when fighting demons in another realm. Had someone told him he’d be doing such a thing a year earlier he would have laughed at them.

“Xayvion was always quiet. He rarely said much, and Xavier always seemed in charge, but if Xaviero got out of hand, it was Xayvion who stopped him, usually with a look. It was eerie when it happened. Unbelievable almost. And it was rare. Xayvion conducted all the experiments with his brothers, but it was as if he was disconnected completely from everyone. He didn’t see us, or their victims as anything alive. When he laughed, it never seemed real to me. He sounded hollow. Dead. I don’t really know how to explain it, you’d have to see him in action.”