Dark Blood (Dark #26)(10)
Author: Christine Feehan

Fen and Dimitri made a move as if to go but Branislava held up her hand. “I need to know why you insisted on waking him early. It’s important to any decisions we make here.”

“Zev is the one person the Lycan council still trusts. We have no idea who is friend or enemy. He knows Lycan politics and he’s aware of personalities and every intrigue these people may try. The alliance is no longer as important as figuring out who our enemy truly is. Zev is the person who can do that.”

“The council members are friends,” Zev said. “I’ve spent my life protecting them and enforcing their laws. I can’t just switch sides.” He ran his hand through his hair. It was thick and long, untamed and hanging around his face, instead of being pulled back as he normally wore it.

“You would still be protecting them. You know assassins are trying to kill them. They’re at risk just as the prince is. Hopefully you’ll figure this out and keep them all alive,” Fen pointed out.

Dimitri nodded his head. “You are truly our brother. Our blood runs in your veins. We all three are tied together in a blood bond. We would never have risked your healing unless the situation was dire.”

Branislava’s hand crept toward his, slowing smoothing the pads of her fingers over his knuckles where his fists were still bunched in the quilt.

Zev felt more of the tension drain away. At least he knew why he was all over the place. Finding how to control it might be difficult, but now that he knew the reason his wolf was bordering on being out of control, he was certain he had the discipline to overcome his knee-jerk reaction to other males near Branislava.

“I’ll be honest with you both, I’m not certain I’m up for the challenge yet. I can barely stand, let alone protect the council members.” He detested the admission, but he had to be straight with them. He could end up being a liability if they counted on him. “I could get you all killed if I can’t hold my own in a fight. You can’t be worried about whether or not I can protect myself.”

Fen nodded. “We’re aware of that. Mikhail said you’d say that. He wants you to consider allowing him, with Gregori, to heal you.”

Branislava gasped. She whipped her head around to look at Fen. “That isn’t done. You know that. Even I know that.”

“Of course it’s done,” Fen said. “The prince is the most powerful man we have.”

“Which is why it isn’t done. Let us try again. Skyler is a powerful healer. We’re Dragonseekers, Gregori on his own can aid us.”

“You’ve all tried, Gregori included,” Fen argued. “He’s Lycan, they regenerate very fast. He’s mixed blood and they regenerate even faster. He isn’t healing, and you know it.”

“The wound was too severe,” Branislava admitted, her voice pleading.

Zev turned his hand over and took hers, placing her palm over his heart. “Don’t be upset. I’ll heal. I always do.”

She shook her head and looked down at her lap.

Fen sighed again. “Actually, Zev, you’re supposed to be dead. No one could have healed that wound. By weaving your spirits together, she cheated death, so to speak. She knew you wouldn’t go into the other world and force her to go with you.”

Zev shrugged. “I don’t give a damn how it was done. As far as I’m concerned she was more than courageous, betting on me when all of you believed I would die—that I was supposed to die. I’m here. I’m alive.”

He caught Branislava’s chin in his hand and tipped her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “We’ll do this together. We’ll find out who is behind all this and then, I promise, we’ll sort things out between us.”

“You might have to do the sorting out between you before you find out who’s behind this mess,” Dimitri muttered under his breath.

Zev shot him a quelling glance. “Don’t listen to him. What’s between us is just that—between us and no one else. Understand?”

Branislava nodded, giving him another small smile that sent his heart into overdrive.

“Tell me about this healing process with the prince and why he so rarely does it.” Zev tore his gaze from Branislava and looked directly at Fen, refusing to allow him to sidestep the question.

“One or the other can heal like anyone else. Gregori is known to be one of our greatest,” Dimitri said, when his brother remained silent. “The combination of Mikhail and Gregori is more like a nuclear bomb going off. If they aren’t precise, if they miss one small calculation, take the heat too high or . . .”

“I get it,” Zev said. He sighed and tapped out a rhythm with Branislava’s palm over his heart while he considered his various options.

It isn’t done because it’s considered too dangerous.

The hole in his gut hurt, a constant throbbing reminder of the huge wooden stake blown into him by a bomb as it tore apart a table. He really preferred not to remember how that enormous splinter nearly as big as his fist ripped through his body.

How much longer before I heal naturally in the earth?

There was a small silence. He turned his head to look at her, bringing the tips of her fingers to his mouth. He used the edge of his teeth to scrape along the pads of her fingers, waiting for her reply.

Wolves are very oral, aren’t they?

It was the last thing he expected her to say. Laughter welled out of nowhere. He didn’t laugh as a rule, and it hurt like hell to do it, but he couldn’t help himself.

Yes, I suppose we are.

Amusement set her green eyes sparkling like emeralds. I like that you have a sense of humor.

“I’ve found, being around Fen and Dimitri, that I need a really good sense of humor,” he replied aloud, raising his eyebrows at the two men claiming kinship with him.

“You’re a riot a minute,” Fen said. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned one hip against the wall. “You tell me what you want to do in this situation. If you want to take the time to heal naturally in the earth you will heal—eventually. You’re Carpathian and you’re strong. It could take months, even a year, but you will heal.”

Months? A year? Branislava had been in the ground with him. She knew whether or not that wound was healing fast or slow.

In my opinion you’re healing very rapidly for such a mortal wound, but Fen’s right, it could take several months, probably longer. You shouldn’t have survived.

Zev sighed. “Did Mikhail ask you to waken me? Or was it your idea?”