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Dark Wolf(38)

By:Christine Feehan

       
           



       

Convel drove at him hard and fast with his sword, moving easily over the  uneven ground, clearly an accomplished swordsman. To be an elite hunter  he would have to be. He had confidence. He had experience, and he  expected to cut Fen down quickly.

Gunnolf grinned at Zev, once again licking at the drops of blood  catching in the fur along the back of his hand and arm. "Your time is  over."

"You don't have the brains to come up with this plot on your own," Zev  said. He ignored the wide slice on his arm, although blood was pouring  from the wound. "Who gave the order for Dimitri to be sentenced to the  Moarta de argint?"

"Dimitri," Gunnolf snarled. He spat on the ground in disgust, circling  Zev, looking for an opening for the attack. "You mean the Sange rau? Why  do you champion him? I have noticed you have become very friendly with  Carpathians. Is it possible you are mixed blood and you seek to save  your own kind?"

Another collective gasp went up, and the Lycans closest to the two  combatants moved back, putting distance between them and a possible  Sange rau.

Zev shrugged his shoulders, his gaze fixed on his opponent. "You have  betrayed our council, Gunnolf. You put them all in jeopardy. You've  disobeyed nearly every law we have. Even now, you do not fight fair,  challenging me for leadership, yet not following the rules of the pack.  Calling me a hated and feared name seems a desperate tactic. If that's  all you have left, put down your weapons and allow me to take you into  custody."

"There is no fairness when fighting a Sange rau," Gunnolf countered. "We kill them-exterminate them where we find them."

He rushed Zev again, feinting to his right and then striking left, the  dagger still gripped in his hand. Zev was ready this time, avoiding the  razor-sharp blade and catching Gunnolf's wrist in his unbreakable grip,  bending it back and away from Gunnolf so that the wolf fell to the  ground. Zev retained possession of the wrist, extracting the dagger and  tossing it away.

Gunnolf rolled, howling as an audible snap signaled that his wrist was  broken. He kicked out at Zev, driving him back just enough to leap back  to his feet. The two bodies came together with a loud crash.

Fen parried Convel's sword, over and over, but never once gave ground,  guarding Zev's back from the Lycan determined to cut his pack leader  from behind. The swordplay was fast and ferocious. Convel tried to drive  Fen from his position, but Fen fought him back, increasing the strength  of each cut minutely, ratcheting up the speed so skillfully that at  first Convel didn't notice the difference.

Convel obviously recognized that Fen was every bit as skilled as he was  with a sword. His expression changed from pure confidence to anger and  then desperation. He was now on the defensive, frantically meeting each  cut of Fen's sword. His movements were just that little bit too slow.  His footwork began to suffer as time after time the heavy metal jarred  his arms and sent shockwaves through his entire body.

He tried to retreat, but the blows kept coming relentlessly, so hard, so fast, he couldn't begin to keep up with Fen.

"Throw your sword down," Fen advised. "And face the council."

Convel couldn't if he wanted to. His grip was so tight, adrenaline and  fear gluing his fingers to the hilt. Fen feinted toward him and triumph  burst through the Lycan. At last, Fen had made a terrible mistake. He  thrust hard straight at his opponent's body, putting everything he had  into that attack, determined to kill him.

Fen wasn't there, he'd glided to the other side, and Convel never saw  the sword coming at him. He heard it, that betraying whisper as the  sword, seemingly alive, cut through the air straight at him. He felt the  energy, so aggressive and deadly, rushing toward him. The blade was so  sharp he actually didn't feel the cut as it sliced through flesh and  bone. He was dead before he hit the ground, his sword slipping through  lifeless fingers.

Dimitri, this is one of your enemies gone, Fen whispered into his brother's mind.

He took the opportunity to glance into the haven Skyler had created there in the meadow. Tatijana was inside.

Do they live? he asked his lifemate.

Tatijana smoothed back Dimitri's hair from his forehead. She had never  seen a body so torn and battered, not even in the ice caves of her  father's torture chamber. The burns were deep and vicious. Healing the  wounds, if even possible, would take time.

He is fighting to save her. Take care of business out there, and I'll see to the wounded.

She didn't tell him what she suspected-that Dimitri had possessed  Skyler's body and was undergoing the conversion with her. The idea was  distasteful and wrong. No one should ever possess another's body. For  her especially, and for Skyler herself, it was such a crime, an  abomination.

Tatijana's father, Xavier, had made a practice of possessing his son's  body, seducing women and getting them pregnant. He wanted Carpathian  blood for immortality. Skyler had been born of such an unholy unity.  Possession was taboo in any species. Her stomach churned, but she forced  herself to get past her aversion and examine Skyler's body.

She'd been shot multiple times. Someone had packed rich loam in the  wounds in anticipation of her conversion. She sent herself outside her  own body to become pure healing spirit. Entering Skyler's body confirmed  her worst fears, Skyler was not alone; if anything, there was more  Dimitri than Skyler.

The idea was so repugnant to her that Tatijana found herself back in her own body, thrown there by a force outside herself.

"What is it?" Byron asked. "Is she dead?"

Tatijana took a deep breath. She felt oily, dirty even. Wrong. "I don't know. How's Josef doing?"

Josef lifted a hand and waved at her, still feeding from his uncle's wrist.

Vlad smoothed a hand over Josef's blue-tipped spiky hair. "He'll be fine once he's in the ground," he assured.

Josef closed the pinpricks on Byron's wrist and looked from one man to  the other. Twice he opened his mouth and closed it, blinking rapidly.  "You came," was all he managed to get out, choking a little and turning  his face away.

"Of course we came," Vlad said. "You're my son, Josef. Our world. Our pride and joy. How could you ever think we wouldn't come?"

Tears burned in Josef's eyes and he quickly averted his eyes. "I'm different. I give you a lot of trouble."

Byron laughed. "You're supposed to give us trouble. You keep us from being old men."

"Eleanor and I have always been proud of your ability to do things most  of us can't do," Vlad said. "I had to handcuff her to the bedpost to  keep her from coming," he added.

Josef laughed, but even that familiar sound was a little watery and  choked. "That's just wrong, Vlad. I'm going to tell her you said that."

Byron slung his arm around the boy's shoulders. "You kept them all alive, Josef."

Josef shook his head, looking down at Skyler's body. Another ripple of  pain across her face signaled a convulsion coming. "I don't know if I  did. She's . . . gone."

Vlad shook his head. "Dimitri's fighting for her. He's a powerful ancient."

Tatijana pressed her lips together tightly. Her eyes met Josef's across  the two bodies. He knew. He knew exactly what Dimitri was doing. Her  brother-kin must not have had any other choice. It was a desperate move,  and one few would try.

She took another deep breath as Skyler's body convulsed, pushing the  last of the toxins from her system. Dimitri lay lifeless beside her, but  his fingers were tightly threaded through Skyler's. They both looked so  battered and far gone from the world. Tears welled up. She pressed a  hand to her mouth, pushing back a sob of despair. How could either  survive?

She sat quietly beside the two bodies, undecided how best to help. She  couldn't attempt to heal Skyler as long as her body continued to go  through the conversion. Dimitri's spirit was gone from his body, but he  was definitely alive, and more than anyone else, his body had taken a  terrible beating.                       
       
           



       

With each convulsion that shook Skyler's body, the earth beneath her  trembled slightly and the two bodies sank a little deeper into the soil.  She judged the movements were no more than a quarter of an inch each  time, but the numbers were beginning to add up. Soil trickled from the  edges of the sinking hole, pushing against the two bodies, working its  way up their hips and legs in an effort to blanket them.

Tatijana wasn't altogether surprised that Mother Earth was aware of  Skyler's plight and had reached out in the only way she could to try to  aid her daughter and son. She couldn't help herself, so she brushed her  hand soothingly over Skyler's hair, pushing the strands from her  forehead.