Dark Blood
Page 97
I see glowing eyes. Red. Yellow. And we’re beginning to hear voices—or I am, Dimitri said. Skyler feels things moving, but she hasn’t heard anything yet.
Zev’s heart seemed to skip a beat. His army. The Sange rau. We knew he was building an army. Dimitri can feel them because he’s mixed blood as well. Xaviero has an army of Sange rau and hellhounds waiting to annihilate us.
But if that were the case, why aren’t they here already? Branislava asked. Why send the fog. We’re in the middle of a clearing.
Zev frowned. He’s holding them back. To what purpose? he mused aloud, inviting the others to speculate. Why is he taking the chance that we might discover them before he unleashes them on us?
“Who from the Sacred Circle was scheduled to give a talk?” Branislava asked, whipping around to look toward the funeral pyre.
“Roberto Hans,” Zev answered slowly, avoiding looking too hard at the Lycan considered one of the greatest leaders of the Sacred Circle. “He’s speaking now.”
Zev recognized him as one of the more prominent members of the Sacred Circle. Roberto Hans had been speaking with Rolf just moments earlier. The face and body appeared to be Roberto’s, along with the deep voice, yet to Zev’s trained ear, there was a lack of depth to the sound. Something missing. As if the voice was a recording and not the real thing.
There was no way to prove he was right, but still, he was certain. Zev recalled that Roberto and the Lycan known as Rannalufr had been good friends. Had Xaviero, disguised as Rannalufr, approached Roberto just to talk about the death of their old friend Arno, Roberto would have allowed him in without hesitation.
Branislava watched Zev move away, back toward the Lycans crowded so closely around the funeral pyre. She didn’t like that they were so close to Xaviero—if that was the High Mage—and she was fairly certain it was. She didn’t want to keep staring at him, afraid he would realize they were on to him. She moved to get into a better position to aid Zev when a peculiar odor drifted from the crowd, just the faintest of smells, but she caught it and stiffened, stopping instantly.
Zev. Branislava’s voice quivered, but she couldn’t help it. That thought of both mages so close in such a large crowd was utterly terrifying. I think both of them are here. Xayvion as well as Xaviero. I caught a whiff of incense, a powerful combination of herbs that are used to send a spirit along on his journey. Just a small passing scent, but Xayvion favored spells where he used incense to aid him. Whatever they’re doing, I think they plan to do it right here.
Perhaps someone else used this incense in the hopes of sending Arno and Arnau on a safe journey.
It wasn’t just that, Zev. It was a combination of scents. Xavier was using it in the laboratory when he stabbed Xaviero. Her heart began to pound as she pulled up the memory. There was a thick fog in the lab that night. I couldn’t see Xaviero’s body once it fell to the floor. I saw Xavier grab his feet and pull him out of the lab, but I couldn’t see his actual body because the mist was too thick, lying about a foot above the floor.
Branka, listen to me. You can do this. Figure this out. No matter what happens, you have to stay focused on what you believe is Xaviero’s ultimate goal.
She could see Zev working his way toward the front and Fen on the other side of the crowd doing the same thing. Zev’s calm voice always steadied her. He had a way of looking and speaking with such a composed, sure manner, that everything in her settled. Not this time. This time she was fairly certain she knew what Xaviero and Xayvion were up to.
They are going to trade the spirit of the living for the spirit of the dead. That’s why I smelled the combination of incenses on Xayvion as he moved through the crowd. They have a live body here, one they want to put Xavier’s spirit into. They need deaths, souls and spirits wailing. The more the better. They intend to open the gates of hell.
There was a small silence. She could feel Zev around her. In her mind. As always, he was as steady as a rock. He wasn’t in a panic as she was. Perhaps because he didn’t know how bad it was going to get.
Dimitri, Skyler, Ivory and Razvan burst from the forest, running toward them, drawing her attention. Directly behind them, a mottled snake slithered up a particularly large tree. When it was halfway up the trunk, it reared back and struck the tree, sinking its teeth deep. Color ran up the bark, changing it from the normal darkish gray to a sickly white. The color spread to the branches and then to the leaves.
Branislava gasped and turned to look behind her. Another tree directly across from the first one, on the other side of the clearing, was lit up in the same ghostly way. She knew without looking that there would be one tree directly across from the ceremonial pyre and two more lit above it, forming an inverted pentagram.
Several Lycans began to turn their heads away from the funeral pyre, uneasy, feeling the evil dread spreading throughout the clearing. The elite hunters moved in closer to better protect the council members. They’ve started, Zev. You have to get to their sacrificial victim. He’ll be somewhere close to the pyre. They’ll want his body, so they’ll have to drive his spirit out at the precise moment the gates open so they can make the exchange. They’ll slay as many as possible to accomplish their goal.
Fog leaked through the trees into the opening surrounding the clearing, a thick yellowish-gray vapor. Tentacles swirled up the trees, climbing toward the sky. The ground fogbank was high, a good six feet or more, like a great wall moving toward them, although still slow. Branislava couldn’t help herself. She looked toward the speaker standing on the raised podium. His eyes met hers. She would recognize that malevolent, evil stare anywhere. Xaviero. He threw back his hood, extending his arms wide as if in supplication, just as Zev fired a shot at him.
The bullet flew true, speeding directly at Xaviero’s forehead, right between his eyes. Xaviero smiled, a malicious, vile, spiteful promise of pure glee.
In her shared mind with Zev, Branislava screamed in alarm. Zev, duck, hit the ground. She tore her gaze from Xaviero’s and frantically chanted a protection spell.
That made of lead,
Fired to kill,
I remove your force,
Now shall you be stilled.
The bullet hit some kind of barrier, stopping just between Xaviero’s eyes, hovering there for a moment and then reversing, to streak through the air straight at the shooter. Zev hit the ground and rolled, the bullet obeying Branislava’s order at the last moment, falling harmlessly to earth.
Xaviero saluted her with a small bow, his smile widening until he looked almost grotesque, an unholy monster from another realm. She realized he’d spent time in the very place Xavier was trapped. The three brothers had prepared for the inevitable moment when one of them was killed.
Zev’s heart seemed to skip a beat. His army. The Sange rau. We knew he was building an army. Dimitri can feel them because he’s mixed blood as well. Xaviero has an army of Sange rau and hellhounds waiting to annihilate us.
But if that were the case, why aren’t they here already? Branislava asked. Why send the fog. We’re in the middle of a clearing.
Zev frowned. He’s holding them back. To what purpose? he mused aloud, inviting the others to speculate. Why is he taking the chance that we might discover them before he unleashes them on us?
“Who from the Sacred Circle was scheduled to give a talk?” Branislava asked, whipping around to look toward the funeral pyre.
“Roberto Hans,” Zev answered slowly, avoiding looking too hard at the Lycan considered one of the greatest leaders of the Sacred Circle. “He’s speaking now.”
Zev recognized him as one of the more prominent members of the Sacred Circle. Roberto Hans had been speaking with Rolf just moments earlier. The face and body appeared to be Roberto’s, along with the deep voice, yet to Zev’s trained ear, there was a lack of depth to the sound. Something missing. As if the voice was a recording and not the real thing.
There was no way to prove he was right, but still, he was certain. Zev recalled that Roberto and the Lycan known as Rannalufr had been good friends. Had Xaviero, disguised as Rannalufr, approached Roberto just to talk about the death of their old friend Arno, Roberto would have allowed him in without hesitation.
Branislava watched Zev move away, back toward the Lycans crowded so closely around the funeral pyre. She didn’t like that they were so close to Xaviero—if that was the High Mage—and she was fairly certain it was. She didn’t want to keep staring at him, afraid he would realize they were on to him. She moved to get into a better position to aid Zev when a peculiar odor drifted from the crowd, just the faintest of smells, but she caught it and stiffened, stopping instantly.
Zev. Branislava’s voice quivered, but she couldn’t help it. That thought of both mages so close in such a large crowd was utterly terrifying. I think both of them are here. Xayvion as well as Xaviero. I caught a whiff of incense, a powerful combination of herbs that are used to send a spirit along on his journey. Just a small passing scent, but Xayvion favored spells where he used incense to aid him. Whatever they’re doing, I think they plan to do it right here.
Perhaps someone else used this incense in the hopes of sending Arno and Arnau on a safe journey.
It wasn’t just that, Zev. It was a combination of scents. Xavier was using it in the laboratory when he stabbed Xaviero. Her heart began to pound as she pulled up the memory. There was a thick fog in the lab that night. I couldn’t see Xaviero’s body once it fell to the floor. I saw Xavier grab his feet and pull him out of the lab, but I couldn’t see his actual body because the mist was too thick, lying about a foot above the floor.
Branka, listen to me. You can do this. Figure this out. No matter what happens, you have to stay focused on what you believe is Xaviero’s ultimate goal.
She could see Zev working his way toward the front and Fen on the other side of the crowd doing the same thing. Zev’s calm voice always steadied her. He had a way of looking and speaking with such a composed, sure manner, that everything in her settled. Not this time. This time she was fairly certain she knew what Xaviero and Xayvion were up to.
They are going to trade the spirit of the living for the spirit of the dead. That’s why I smelled the combination of incenses on Xayvion as he moved through the crowd. They have a live body here, one they want to put Xavier’s spirit into. They need deaths, souls and spirits wailing. The more the better. They intend to open the gates of hell.
There was a small silence. She could feel Zev around her. In her mind. As always, he was as steady as a rock. He wasn’t in a panic as she was. Perhaps because he didn’t know how bad it was going to get.
Dimitri, Skyler, Ivory and Razvan burst from the forest, running toward them, drawing her attention. Directly behind them, a mottled snake slithered up a particularly large tree. When it was halfway up the trunk, it reared back and struck the tree, sinking its teeth deep. Color ran up the bark, changing it from the normal darkish gray to a sickly white. The color spread to the branches and then to the leaves.
Branislava gasped and turned to look behind her. Another tree directly across from the first one, on the other side of the clearing, was lit up in the same ghostly way. She knew without looking that there would be one tree directly across from the ceremonial pyre and two more lit above it, forming an inverted pentagram.
Several Lycans began to turn their heads away from the funeral pyre, uneasy, feeling the evil dread spreading throughout the clearing. The elite hunters moved in closer to better protect the council members. They’ve started, Zev. You have to get to their sacrificial victim. He’ll be somewhere close to the pyre. They’ll want his body, so they’ll have to drive his spirit out at the precise moment the gates open so they can make the exchange. They’ll slay as many as possible to accomplish their goal.
Fog leaked through the trees into the opening surrounding the clearing, a thick yellowish-gray vapor. Tentacles swirled up the trees, climbing toward the sky. The ground fogbank was high, a good six feet or more, like a great wall moving toward them, although still slow. Branislava couldn’t help herself. She looked toward the speaker standing on the raised podium. His eyes met hers. She would recognize that malevolent, evil stare anywhere. Xaviero. He threw back his hood, extending his arms wide as if in supplication, just as Zev fired a shot at him.
The bullet flew true, speeding directly at Xaviero’s forehead, right between his eyes. Xaviero smiled, a malicious, vile, spiteful promise of pure glee.
In her shared mind with Zev, Branislava screamed in alarm. Zev, duck, hit the ground. She tore her gaze from Xaviero’s and frantically chanted a protection spell.
That made of lead,
Fired to kill,
I remove your force,
Now shall you be stilled.
The bullet hit some kind of barrier, stopping just between Xaviero’s eyes, hovering there for a moment and then reversing, to streak through the air straight at the shooter. Zev hit the ground and rolled, the bullet obeying Branislava’s order at the last moment, falling harmlessly to earth.
Xaviero saluted her with a small bow, his smile widening until he looked almost grotesque, an unholy monster from another realm. She realized he’d spent time in the very place Xavier was trapped. The three brothers had prepared for the inevitable moment when one of them was killed.
