Dark Blood
Page 107
The fire let out a roar, as if alive, and maybe it was with the aid of the mages. The flames turned blue in the middle of the conflagration, a storm of defiant color in the midst of the raging blaze. The flames leapt higher and higher, nearly climbing to the fog ceiling, the black smoke spreading like a cancer overhead. The tremendous heat drove everyone away from the site, not because the Carpathians couldn’t control their temperatures, but because the fire melted everything in its range.
The ground shifted, a jarring warning that stopped nearly everyone in their tracks. Even the few remaining hellhounds paused uneasily. Xaviero walked out of the protective circle, unbending, unafraid, a blue light glowing around him. His brother came from the other side, just as impressive, wrapped in that same mystique that set them apart from the rest of the world.
They kept to the shadows, making no sound at all, yet commanding the attention of every combatant. The hellhounds rushed to them, slinking low, like pets who had been beaten but were at the command of their masters. Both mages waved their hands and a candle on either side of the triangle they formed with the fire leapt to life, the flames flickering blue to match the center of the larger blaze.
The ground trembled a second time, a great crack zigzagging through the center of the triangle Xaviero, Xayvion and the fire formed, in the exact center of power between the trees the two had prepared in advance. Soil erupted into a geyser and then collapsed in on itself, forming a sinkhole several feet in diameter.
The candles on either side of the triangle leapt in glee, the flames turning blue to answer the blue crystals both mages scattered on the ground surrounding the sinkhole. A blast of heat rose from below, as if a great volcano lurked just beneath the surface. The fog above their heads reflected an orange-red hue cast from the melted rock deep in the sinkhole.
A hush fell over the battlefield. Both mages stepped out of the shadows, ringed by the hellhounds to guard them as they performed their ritual. Dressed in purple robes, they lifted their arms and opened them wide. In complete synchronization, the two chanted the foulest of dark magic, demanding the gates of hell be opened.
I call to the devil of black rock’s depth,
Let these souls travel the devil’s spine.
Let them be the offering to all that is dark,
So that none may undo this time.
Let these souls serve as fodder,
As hunger feeds.
Let their blood seal the bond,
Let their blood seal this need.
Branislava winced at the demonic, vile incantation, the deal they were making. They ordered and cajoled. They commanded and yet supplicated. The arrogance of the two mages shocked her. What they would bring back from the dead would be far worse than what Xavier had been. She shuddered thinking of the reign of terror he would provide. The mage voices rose in volume as they continued with their bid to free their brother.
Each soul I send,
I exchange for life.
I sign with you now with blood and life,
From this day forward I am bound to serve.
Be ever to be immortal,
For what has been served.
From spirit and blood, flesh and bone,
I sign this pact now with immortality won.
Xaviero gestured toward the fire, crooking his little finger, summoning their offering. The prisoner was wrapped from head to toe in silver chain. A tall, broad-shouldered Sange rau dragged him from behind the fire and shoved him into the triangle so hard he fell facedown in the dirt. The Sange rau moved back quickly, clearly not wanting to get too close to the mage. With no hands to stop him, the prisoner’s face buried itself in the grime. He lay unmoving for a moment, no sound escaping. Very slowly he turned over and in spite of the chains, managed to get into a sitting position.
Zev’s heart stuttered. Went still. Branka. That is my grandfather. That’s Hemming. I would know him anywhere, even though the silver has burned into his skin and he’s been tortured beyond endurance. That’s Hemming.
Don’t move. Don’t speak or draw attention to yourself in any way, Branislava cautioned. You are alpha. Above all matters. He cannot feel your emotion or he can draw more power from it. Your grandfather carries your grandmother’s blood. He is now mixed blood as you are, and he is a strong Dark Blood.
Zev hadn’t really considered that. He’d been told by the Carpathians that he was of the Dark Blood lineage many times, but he never really understood what it meant. He thought of himself as Lycan. If he considered himself Carpathian at all, it was as a brother to Fen and Dimitri. Now, with his grandfather chained and about to be slain so Xavier could have his body and his spirit could go to hell in exchange, he realized that all along, it was this the mages had been looking to do.
They wanted the body and blood of a Dark Blood, and his grandfather had probably walked right into their trap. He had gone looking for those who had murdered his mate. One by one he had hunted them down. Of course Xaviero would have heard the rumors. It would have taken little effort to lure Hemming to him.
They can’t have him, Zev said, absolute determination in his mind and voice.
Of course they can’t. We’re close to tearing down his powerhouse, but it takes time to unravel what he’s wrought. Inch your way to the weakest side, the side of the fire. He won’t be expecting an attack from that side, Branislava advised.
Because it’s impossible. The fire is so hot it’s melting anything within several feet of it. He’s burning blue flames inside of it. My body can’t withstand such a temperature, Branka. I’ve tried regulating it, but he has magic in that fire.
My love—her voice overwhelmed him with tenderness—trust me. Wrap yourself in me. My spirit is woven to yours. My body belongs to you. My soul is the other half of yours. I am fire. Cloak yourself with my dragon scales and in darkness make your way to your grandfather. It can be done.
You should have been a general, mon chaton féroce. He had much to learn about being Carpathian. His woman was brilliant.
Fen. Dimitri, he said. Step slowly in front of me. Slowly, so you don’t draw the attention of either of the demon brothers.
Fen moved first, gliding without seeming to, his body coming in at an angle to allow Zev to slip behind him. Dimitri immediately shifted his weight from one leg to the other, effectively blocking Zev from sight. Instantly Zev shifted, going completely invisible. He moved through the crowd with stealth, careful to keep from alerting a hound or making one of the remaining Sange rau nervous.
He realized the packs had done a tremendous job in bringing down the mage’s army. There were very few of the Sange rau left alive. The mages had given the illusion that there were many more, but he counted no more than a dozen left, including the one who had shoved his grandfather into the dirt.
The ground shifted, a jarring warning that stopped nearly everyone in their tracks. Even the few remaining hellhounds paused uneasily. Xaviero walked out of the protective circle, unbending, unafraid, a blue light glowing around him. His brother came from the other side, just as impressive, wrapped in that same mystique that set them apart from the rest of the world.
They kept to the shadows, making no sound at all, yet commanding the attention of every combatant. The hellhounds rushed to them, slinking low, like pets who had been beaten but were at the command of their masters. Both mages waved their hands and a candle on either side of the triangle they formed with the fire leapt to life, the flames flickering blue to match the center of the larger blaze.
The ground trembled a second time, a great crack zigzagging through the center of the triangle Xaviero, Xayvion and the fire formed, in the exact center of power between the trees the two had prepared in advance. Soil erupted into a geyser and then collapsed in on itself, forming a sinkhole several feet in diameter.
The candles on either side of the triangle leapt in glee, the flames turning blue to answer the blue crystals both mages scattered on the ground surrounding the sinkhole. A blast of heat rose from below, as if a great volcano lurked just beneath the surface. The fog above their heads reflected an orange-red hue cast from the melted rock deep in the sinkhole.
A hush fell over the battlefield. Both mages stepped out of the shadows, ringed by the hellhounds to guard them as they performed their ritual. Dressed in purple robes, they lifted their arms and opened them wide. In complete synchronization, the two chanted the foulest of dark magic, demanding the gates of hell be opened.
I call to the devil of black rock’s depth,
Let these souls travel the devil’s spine.
Let them be the offering to all that is dark,
So that none may undo this time.
Let these souls serve as fodder,
As hunger feeds.
Let their blood seal the bond,
Let their blood seal this need.
Branislava winced at the demonic, vile incantation, the deal they were making. They ordered and cajoled. They commanded and yet supplicated. The arrogance of the two mages shocked her. What they would bring back from the dead would be far worse than what Xavier had been. She shuddered thinking of the reign of terror he would provide. The mage voices rose in volume as they continued with their bid to free their brother.
Each soul I send,
I exchange for life.
I sign with you now with blood and life,
From this day forward I am bound to serve.
Be ever to be immortal,
For what has been served.
From spirit and blood, flesh and bone,
I sign this pact now with immortality won.
Xaviero gestured toward the fire, crooking his little finger, summoning their offering. The prisoner was wrapped from head to toe in silver chain. A tall, broad-shouldered Sange rau dragged him from behind the fire and shoved him into the triangle so hard he fell facedown in the dirt. The Sange rau moved back quickly, clearly not wanting to get too close to the mage. With no hands to stop him, the prisoner’s face buried itself in the grime. He lay unmoving for a moment, no sound escaping. Very slowly he turned over and in spite of the chains, managed to get into a sitting position.
Zev’s heart stuttered. Went still. Branka. That is my grandfather. That’s Hemming. I would know him anywhere, even though the silver has burned into his skin and he’s been tortured beyond endurance. That’s Hemming.
Don’t move. Don’t speak or draw attention to yourself in any way, Branislava cautioned. You are alpha. Above all matters. He cannot feel your emotion or he can draw more power from it. Your grandfather carries your grandmother’s blood. He is now mixed blood as you are, and he is a strong Dark Blood.
Zev hadn’t really considered that. He’d been told by the Carpathians that he was of the Dark Blood lineage many times, but he never really understood what it meant. He thought of himself as Lycan. If he considered himself Carpathian at all, it was as a brother to Fen and Dimitri. Now, with his grandfather chained and about to be slain so Xavier could have his body and his spirit could go to hell in exchange, he realized that all along, it was this the mages had been looking to do.
They wanted the body and blood of a Dark Blood, and his grandfather had probably walked right into their trap. He had gone looking for those who had murdered his mate. One by one he had hunted them down. Of course Xaviero would have heard the rumors. It would have taken little effort to lure Hemming to him.
They can’t have him, Zev said, absolute determination in his mind and voice.
Of course they can’t. We’re close to tearing down his powerhouse, but it takes time to unravel what he’s wrought. Inch your way to the weakest side, the side of the fire. He won’t be expecting an attack from that side, Branislava advised.
Because it’s impossible. The fire is so hot it’s melting anything within several feet of it. He’s burning blue flames inside of it. My body can’t withstand such a temperature, Branka. I’ve tried regulating it, but he has magic in that fire.
My love—her voice overwhelmed him with tenderness—trust me. Wrap yourself in me. My spirit is woven to yours. My body belongs to you. My soul is the other half of yours. I am fire. Cloak yourself with my dragon scales and in darkness make your way to your grandfather. It can be done.
You should have been a general, mon chaton féroce. He had much to learn about being Carpathian. His woman was brilliant.
Fen. Dimitri, he said. Step slowly in front of me. Slowly, so you don’t draw the attention of either of the demon brothers.
Fen moved first, gliding without seeming to, his body coming in at an angle to allow Zev to slip behind him. Dimitri immediately shifted his weight from one leg to the other, effectively blocking Zev from sight. Instantly Zev shifted, going completely invisible. He moved through the crowd with stealth, careful to keep from alerting a hound or making one of the remaining Sange rau nervous.
He realized the packs had done a tremendous job in bringing down the mage’s army. There were very few of the Sange rau left alive. The mages had given the illusion that there were many more, but he counted no more than a dozen left, including the one who had shoved his grandfather into the dirt.
