Dark Blood
Page 80
Mikhail appeared in the hallway behind Gregori. “Arno is dead.” It was more a statement than a question. The question was for Gregori, asking what happened.
I thought you were going to keep him away from here, Zev said.
Gregori shook his head and gestured to the runes written in blood covering the walls and ceiling of the room. “He had a visitor. A mage can slip past guards during the day.”
There is no controlling Mikhail. He is responsible for the Lycan council and carries that weight heavily on his shoulders. I can only protect him, not control him, Gregori replied to Zev.
I do not envy you your job, Zev said to Gregori.
Gregori looked into the room and the bloody symbols covering the walls. At this moment, I do not envy yours.
“Who specifically was assigned to protect him?” Mikhail asked.
Branislava’s gaze jumped to the prince with sudden apprehension. She could feel the change in Zev. His face remained expressionless, but deep inside, there was a small ripple of unease. She hadn’t considered who might have been guarding Arno and what happened to him—or that the Lycan would be someone close to Zev.
“One of my best,” Zev answered slowly. “Arnau. And he’s Arno’s son. He’s an elite hunter and a member of my pack. His room is right there.” He indicated the door just to the left of Arno’s sleeping quarters.
Gregori stepped to one side of the door and waved his hand to the prince, as if shooing him aside. Branislava would have laughed at the gesture if the tension wasn’t so high. The prince didn’t move a step. Gregori thrust his hand toward the door and it sprang wide open.
Arnau leapt through the open space, already half man, half wolf, his muzzle dripping with saliva, madness in his red-rimmed eyes. He had one target and he landed squarely on her, driving Branislava to the floor, his claws tearing at her stomach and his teeth clamping down around her left shoulder, up high, toward her neck.
Zev reacted first, hurling through the air at a blurring speed, both boots hitting Arnau squarely in the ribs, driving the Lycan off of Branislava. The Lycan rolled and came back to his feet, his gaze targeting Bronnie. Clearly for him, there was no one else in the narrow hallway. He made no sound, just attacked a second time, propelling himself forward, closing the distance between them fast.
Mikhail stepped in front of Branislava, a silver stake in his fist. The Lycan used his claws to go up and over the prince, raking flesh from his chest and shoulders as he whipped past him. Gregori swore and yanked Mikhail back and away from the mage-maddened Lycan.
Arnau hit Zev squarely in the chest as Zev materialized right where Branislava had been. They stared into each another’s eyes. The stake in his fist penetrated right through the chest wall, through muscle and tissue, straight to the heart. Zev put his arm around Arnau and gently lowered him to the ground. He went with him, crouching low.
Arnau tried to speak. Zev nodded several times. His sorrow was palpable, so intense Branislava felt tears burning behind her eyes.
“I know,” Zev said softly to Arnau. “Good journey my friend.” One hand around Arnau’s, he held the Lycan’s gaze with his own as the life faded from the elite hunter’s eyes.
He stayed beside the body for a long minute, his hand smoothing back the hunter’s hair and then slipping his fingers over the mask of death to close Arnau’s eyes. He stood slowly, as if the weight of his friend was heavy on his shoulders. Taking a breath, he drew his sword and severed the head from the shoulders in one smooth movement.
There was silence in the hall. Gregori was the first to move. “Mikhail, this will be a long job for Bronnie and Zev. Perhaps it is best if we take care of other matters and allow them to get to it. I’ve sent for Fen and Dimitri. They work well with Zev, and if their lifemates are present, both are powerful in their own right. The combination of these six could very well defeat Xaviero’s plans.”
“In other words,” Mikhail said. “You’d like to put me in a bubble and keep me safe.”
Zev cleaned his sword and put it slowly and reverently back in its scabbard. “We all want you safe, Mikhail. Whatever Xaviero has done here cannot touch you, or he will win.” He turned his head, his eyes meeting the prince’s. “I’m not willing to let him win. He’s taken too many good men with his evil. We have to stop him.”
Mikhail nodded. “I agree. Just be careful.”
Branislava moved under Zev’s shoulder, slipping her arm around him as they turned back to the open door and the body of Arnau’s father.
I’m so sorry, Zev. There were no right words. She felt his pain, that intense sorrow he refused to allow others to see. The death of his friend had only increased his determination to destroy Xaviero before he could hurt anyone else.
Zev’s only indication that he heard her was a soft brush of his mind against hers. His face didn’t change expression and his gaze didn’t stray from the room.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
Branislava straightened her shoulders and stepped to the doorway, carefully studying the symbols. “First I have to cleanse the room and drive away the demons he set here. He brought them through the gates of hell. I’ve seen them do it more than once, and whatever comes through can get trapped on this side.”
Zev frowned. “I can’t fight what I can’t see.”
“This won’t be that kind of fight,” she replied. “You can’t physically enter that room without being killed. The demons stand guard as they’ve been commanded to do and wait for their reward, the flesh and blood of a living creature.”
“I’ve heard of shadow warriors, the dead brought back to serve the mage.”
She shook her head. “Shadow warriors were men who fought with honor, and a mage captured their spirit and forced them into service. These are demons, evil beings the mage can’t force into service. He makes an exchange with them. In this case, he’s trading their service for the chance to taste flesh and blood. Yours or mine, specifically.”
Zev ran his hand down his knife as if eager for battle. “Let’s get to this. Tell me what to do.”
“We’re one, our souls tied together, so he believes if he kills one of us, he kills the other,” she explained.
“And he’s right,” Zev confirmed.
“He doesn’t know our spirits are tied together. If either of us gets pulled into the other world, which from what I see here, could be their plan, the demons devour our body and our spirit will enter the other world where his brother waits to collect it in the hopes that he can be resurrected.”
I thought you were going to keep him away from here, Zev said.
Gregori shook his head and gestured to the runes written in blood covering the walls and ceiling of the room. “He had a visitor. A mage can slip past guards during the day.”
There is no controlling Mikhail. He is responsible for the Lycan council and carries that weight heavily on his shoulders. I can only protect him, not control him, Gregori replied to Zev.
I do not envy you your job, Zev said to Gregori.
Gregori looked into the room and the bloody symbols covering the walls. At this moment, I do not envy yours.
“Who specifically was assigned to protect him?” Mikhail asked.
Branislava’s gaze jumped to the prince with sudden apprehension. She could feel the change in Zev. His face remained expressionless, but deep inside, there was a small ripple of unease. She hadn’t considered who might have been guarding Arno and what happened to him—or that the Lycan would be someone close to Zev.
“One of my best,” Zev answered slowly. “Arnau. And he’s Arno’s son. He’s an elite hunter and a member of my pack. His room is right there.” He indicated the door just to the left of Arno’s sleeping quarters.
Gregori stepped to one side of the door and waved his hand to the prince, as if shooing him aside. Branislava would have laughed at the gesture if the tension wasn’t so high. The prince didn’t move a step. Gregori thrust his hand toward the door and it sprang wide open.
Arnau leapt through the open space, already half man, half wolf, his muzzle dripping with saliva, madness in his red-rimmed eyes. He had one target and he landed squarely on her, driving Branislava to the floor, his claws tearing at her stomach and his teeth clamping down around her left shoulder, up high, toward her neck.
Zev reacted first, hurling through the air at a blurring speed, both boots hitting Arnau squarely in the ribs, driving the Lycan off of Branislava. The Lycan rolled and came back to his feet, his gaze targeting Bronnie. Clearly for him, there was no one else in the narrow hallway. He made no sound, just attacked a second time, propelling himself forward, closing the distance between them fast.
Mikhail stepped in front of Branislava, a silver stake in his fist. The Lycan used his claws to go up and over the prince, raking flesh from his chest and shoulders as he whipped past him. Gregori swore and yanked Mikhail back and away from the mage-maddened Lycan.
Arnau hit Zev squarely in the chest as Zev materialized right where Branislava had been. They stared into each another’s eyes. The stake in his fist penetrated right through the chest wall, through muscle and tissue, straight to the heart. Zev put his arm around Arnau and gently lowered him to the ground. He went with him, crouching low.
Arnau tried to speak. Zev nodded several times. His sorrow was palpable, so intense Branislava felt tears burning behind her eyes.
“I know,” Zev said softly to Arnau. “Good journey my friend.” One hand around Arnau’s, he held the Lycan’s gaze with his own as the life faded from the elite hunter’s eyes.
He stayed beside the body for a long minute, his hand smoothing back the hunter’s hair and then slipping his fingers over the mask of death to close Arnau’s eyes. He stood slowly, as if the weight of his friend was heavy on his shoulders. Taking a breath, he drew his sword and severed the head from the shoulders in one smooth movement.
There was silence in the hall. Gregori was the first to move. “Mikhail, this will be a long job for Bronnie and Zev. Perhaps it is best if we take care of other matters and allow them to get to it. I’ve sent for Fen and Dimitri. They work well with Zev, and if their lifemates are present, both are powerful in their own right. The combination of these six could very well defeat Xaviero’s plans.”
“In other words,” Mikhail said. “You’d like to put me in a bubble and keep me safe.”
Zev cleaned his sword and put it slowly and reverently back in its scabbard. “We all want you safe, Mikhail. Whatever Xaviero has done here cannot touch you, or he will win.” He turned his head, his eyes meeting the prince’s. “I’m not willing to let him win. He’s taken too many good men with his evil. We have to stop him.”
Mikhail nodded. “I agree. Just be careful.”
Branislava moved under Zev’s shoulder, slipping her arm around him as they turned back to the open door and the body of Arnau’s father.
I’m so sorry, Zev. There were no right words. She felt his pain, that intense sorrow he refused to allow others to see. The death of his friend had only increased his determination to destroy Xaviero before he could hurt anyone else.
Zev’s only indication that he heard her was a soft brush of his mind against hers. His face didn’t change expression and his gaze didn’t stray from the room.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
Branislava straightened her shoulders and stepped to the doorway, carefully studying the symbols. “First I have to cleanse the room and drive away the demons he set here. He brought them through the gates of hell. I’ve seen them do it more than once, and whatever comes through can get trapped on this side.”
Zev frowned. “I can’t fight what I can’t see.”
“This won’t be that kind of fight,” she replied. “You can’t physically enter that room without being killed. The demons stand guard as they’ve been commanded to do and wait for their reward, the flesh and blood of a living creature.”
“I’ve heard of shadow warriors, the dead brought back to serve the mage.”
She shook her head. “Shadow warriors were men who fought with honor, and a mage captured their spirit and forced them into service. These are demons, evil beings the mage can’t force into service. He makes an exchange with them. In this case, he’s trading their service for the chance to taste flesh and blood. Yours or mine, specifically.”
Zev ran his hand down his knife as if eager for battle. “Let’s get to this. Tell me what to do.”
“We’re one, our souls tied together, so he believes if he kills one of us, he kills the other,” she explained.
“And he’s right,” Zev confirmed.
“He doesn’t know our spirits are tied together. If either of us gets pulled into the other world, which from what I see here, could be their plan, the demons devour our body and our spirit will enter the other world where his brother waits to collect it in the hopes that he can be resurrected.”
