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Dark Wolf(37)

By:Christine Feehan


He was directly over the transparent force field. No matter how hard the  Lycans hacked and chopped at the shield, not a single scratch appeared  that he could see. How could it be so strong to withstand such an  assault, especially when Skyler lay nearly dead-or dead?

He dropped lower, forcing himself to be patient, to allow the wind to  take him naturally. He caught Skyler's scent. Dragonseeker blood. Mage  blood. She had used her own blood to build this safe place for the  others. Her very essence was woven into the spell. He even smelled the  scent of potent, rich soil. Daughter of the earth.                       
       
           



       

If he could catch her scent, so could the Lycans. They would know Skyler  had been the one powerful enough to create such a fortress they could  not enter. She had been the one to rescue Dimitri and find a way for  them all to flee, avoiding the Lycans until they were nearly to safety.  They wouldn't understand the kind of power she had-and that would make  her suspect in their eyes. The Sange rau was hated and feared. Skyler  very well could have just put herself in the same category with that  condemned abomination.

Fen allowed himself to drift to the roof to peer down at Dimitri and  Skyler. His heart nearly stuttered to a halt. He barely recognized his  brother. Dimitri had always been extraordinarily handsome, tall,  broad-shouldered and muscular. Blackened swirls of linked chain were now  burned into the flesh of his forehead and over his entire body. He  looked emaciated, his skin gray between the burned circles covering his  body. His clothes, always elegant, were shredded, in tatters. Bright red  splotches soaked into what was left of his shirt and trousers, and into  the ground beneath him.

Josef valiantly fought to stem the blood, but clearly his focus was on  pushing silver liquid from Dimitri's body through the pores. Everywhere  the silver had touched Dimitri's skin were burn marks and blisters.

Fen found himself cursing again. He was furious that the Lycans had  tortured Dimitri. Torture was so uncivilized, and yet the wolves were  supposed to be far more civilized than Carpathians. They had integrated  into human society and, in spite of their longevity and predatory  instincts, had become quite adept at hiding their identities' from other  species.

You lived among the Lycans for this last century and even at times  before that, Tatijana said. Does this seem like normal behavior to you?

Fen had too many years as a vampire hunter, too many years existing in  the endless, emotionless void not to be able to call upon  self-discipline when he needed it. Tatijana's comment struck a chord  with him. He had never seen Lycans armed in the way these were, or so  many. They did look more of a military force than an organized pack.

He pulled his gaze away from his brother's burned body and began to  assess the Lycans surrounding the haven Skyler had constructed. At first  glance, every wolf seemed to be trying to tear down the walls, but  after a few moments of study, he realized there were three factions. The  first-and they appeared to be the strongest and most numerous-were the  aggressive, determined Lycans actively using weapons and instruments to  get at the four wounded inside.

He recognized Gunnolf and Convel in the front, driving the others to  greater effort. He sent a silent snarl their way. Dimitri had virtually  risked his life to save theirs and they had repaid him with betrayal and  torture. They would not live out the night if Fen had anything to say  about it.

We need to get inside in order to help them, Tatijana reminded. I will  shift to my dragon. Vlad and Byron will follow suit. We can drive them  back from this fortress that Skyler has created and get inside. Our  blood very well may be what turns the tide.

Fen couldn't argue with her. Dimitri definitely was in starvation mode.  He had no idea if Skyler was dead or hanging on by a thread, but his  mixed blood and Tatijana's ancient blood would definitely help.

Give me another minute here. I have to figure out what's going on.

Something wasn't right. The second faction appeared to be arguing with  the first, trying to stop them, separating themselves from the frenzied  activities of the first group. There was a conflict, a definite division  between the Lycans. He spotted Zev in the second group, clearly  furious, throwing Lycans to the ground as he waded toward Gunnolf and  Convel.

The third group of Lycans seemed uncertain. They were the smallest in  number, and they didn't want to join either side, confused about what  they should be doing. Where was the decisive leadership always present  in a pack? In all the centuries Fen had been around the Lycans, the  alpha always called the shots and settled all differences-there was a  clear hierarchy. Yet this enormous pack seemed fragmented, a huge schism  dividing them.

He had begun to return to the others, ready to call in the dragons to  burn the hell out of the Lycans, when he heard a roar that sent chills  up his spine and stopped every Lycan in their tracks. Below him, Zev  rushed at Gunnolf in his Lycan form, accepting the challenge for  leadership.

Lycans fought for supremacy bare-handed. They didn't kill one another as  a rule. It happened in the heat of battle, but very rarely. Gunnolf  swung around to meet Zev, lunging forward, but not before Fen saw the  signal he gave to Convel.

The Lycans formed a circle around the two combatants, abandoning their efforts to enter the haven harboring the four escapees.

Convel inched his way around behind Zev, his hand on his sword. Fen made  his decision. He'd been angry with Zev, certain the Lycan had betrayed  them all, yet Zev clearly was trying to stop the assault on those  already wounded.

Fen made the decision to trust him. They had fought together in battles  before and Fen wasn't about to let him get cut down from behind. As far  as they all knew, Fenris was Lycan.

If you get the chance, if the distraction is enough, the three of you  slip inside and help the others. I'm going to remain on the outside and  do what I can to figure out what is happening. I still believe there is  someone at work, someone behind this trying to start a war between Lycan  and Carpathian.

Whoever it was, if such a person existed, was very close to their goal.  Fen came striding out of the forest, moving fast, a graceful flow of  muscle and sinew, dressed in trousers with a belt holding an array of  weapons, his boots with loops inside holding silver stakes as well as  two knives, and his long coat concealing even more weapons. His long  hair was pulled back severely from his face, flowing down his back,  caught at the nape with a cord wrapped around the length to keep it from  getting caught on anything as he fought.

He came up behind Convel just as the Lycan drew his sword and made his  slash at Zev's unprotected back. Fen's sword seemed to come out of  nowhere, parrying the blow and following it around in a semicircle,  sparks showering down in the night. A collective gasp went through the  Lycan ranks at such treachery. Even those Gunnolf led seemed to be  shocked.

Zev threw Gunnolf off of him, following up his advantage, leaping onto  the Lycan and driving him to the ground with such enormous strength the  ground shook. Zev spared one quick glance behind him to see Fen and  Convel battling with swords.

Tatijana, Vlad and Byron took advantage of the moment when all the  Lycans were occupied watching the four combatants. Energy was flashing  through the clearing almost as bright as the two swords clashing. The  ring of metal against metal was loud in the stillness.

Gunnolf rolled free and leapt to his feet, gasping for air. He tore his  shirt away, showing a mouthful of teeth as he circled Zev. Twice he  wiped the blood from his muzzle and licked it from his claw-tipped  hands.

"You disobeyed the council," Zev accused, loud enough for all Lycans to  hear. "You went directly against their orders. You lied to us all, and  you put the lives of the council members in jeopardy along with those of  everyone here."

Gunnolf charged, rushing Zev. At the last moment, his clawed hands  returned to those of a man's, enabling him to pull a silver dagger from  his belt and slice viciously across Zev's arm. Blood sprayed over the  treacherous Lycan. Zev let out a string of curse words, leaping back  away from the man who had followed him for so many years-a man who had  been his friend. No Lycan ever drew silver on another-not unless they  were rogue. Another collective gasp went up in the Lycan circle.

Fen had his hands full keeping Convel from working his way around him in  order to take a slice at Zev. He was faster and stronger than the  Lycan, but he couldn't accidently give himself away as a mixed blood. He  had to toe a fine line, fighting just well enough to appear nearly  evenly matched.

"Clearly you're supposed to kill your alpha," Fen said, in a mild, but  carrying voice. He wanted the other Lycans to be aware of the true  nature of both challengers. "You and Gunnolf obviously planned to kill  Zev during your raid on wounded people. Was that the true goal? Getting  rid of the man who had the true ear of the council?"