Dark Blood (Dark #26)(65)
Author: Christine Feehan

Fen mirrored his opponent’s action, coming up behind him, using his legs as a springboard to leap after the Sange rau. Before those claws could reach Dimitri, Fen slammed his fist hard into the hilt of Dimitri’s knife with his enormous strength, driving it deep through the assassin’s back to pierce the heart.

The Sange rau shrieked and thrashed, lunging forward toward Dimitri, slamming both claws into his chest, digging through flesh to try to get at the heart. The long muzzle gaped open and clamped teeth around Dimitri’s shoulder and arm.

Dimitri, as he had when he made the first leap away from the Sange rau, had drawn his sword. He swung low, cutting through both legs even as he threw himself back and away from the pain-maddened creature. As he did so, he tossed the sword to his brother. Fen swung the silver sword in a glittering arc, severing the head of the Sange rau from the neck.

“How bad are you hurt?” Fen asked grimly as he threw his brother the patch he carried and then sank a silver stake through the assassin’s heart.

“What does it look like?” Dimitri demanded a little sarcastically.

Fen glanced over his shoulder at the woman striding toward them. Wolves surrounded her. “She looks royally pissed, Dimitri, and I can’t say that I blame her. You set yourself up for this piece of garbage to use as a pincushion to give me a shot at killing him.”

“We had to take him down fast and that seemed the quickest solution. You were a little slower than I’d hoped.”

“I’m resisting the urge to kick your ass,” Fen said, “but only because your woman has a thirst for revenge.”

“Get out of here, go help Zev,” Dimitri ordered his brother. “I’ll be fine.”

“If you don’t bleed to death,” Fen snapped, and stepped up to Dimitri, his teeth tearing at his own wrist. “Just hurry.”

Dimitri had no real choice but to accept what his brother offered. Not offered. More like forced. There was no way to ever stop Fen from taking the role of the eldest brother, no matter how savvy or experienced Dimitri was in battle.

Skyler rushed up to her lifemate, her eyes dark with concern. The wolves pushed close to him as she inspected the damage. “Ivory and Razvan are working with Daciana and the others to hunt down the remaining rogues. There’re only a couple of them left alive. Once we knew how to kill them, they weren’t nearly as tough as we thought they’d be.”

Dimitri closed the wound on his brother’s wrist. “They weren’t hunting in pack formation as they should have been,” he explained to her. “The orders must have been to rush the cave. They were pawns to be sacrificed.”

Skyler ran her fingers through his hair, pushing the damp strands from his forehead. “Don’t sound so sad, Dimitri. These were rogues, Lycans who deliberately turned to killing for the pleasure of it.”

She crouched down beside him, peeling back the patch Gary had given to all of them, her palms resting over the wound in his chest. He felt the heat of her touch burning through his body, but it was soothing, rather than painful. She mixed rich soil and healing saliva and pressed it into the stab wound before moving to the wound on his thigh.

“You’re a mess, you know that?” she asked.

“Yes. You didn’t tell me how the wolves did.” He meant how she did. Practicing combat was entirely different than actually having to kill another living creature.

Skyler pressed her lips together and shook her head. He didn’t ask again, but ran his hand up her leg to her thigh, keeping the contact while she worked on him.

“Is he going to live?” Fen asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Fen nodded and left them, moving fast, rushing for the entrance to the cave. Behind him, he could smell fire, as the bodies of the rogues were gathered and burned. Just down from the entrance lay a dead Sange rau, his head macabrely lying against the wall, eyes wide and staring. Fen ignored him, leapt over the body and rushed toward the cavern where the Lycan council members had been secreted.

He entered quickly and ran into Zev, just stopping his forward momentum before they collided hard. As it was, he bumped him enough to drive him forward a couple of steps. Lyall sat on the floor of the cavern, his fingers locked behind the nape of his neck. He looked furious.

Randall glared at Lyall, his eyes red, his body more wolf than man. He looked frightening, a great bear of a wolf ready to slash and kill. Rolf looked saddened, shaking his head, one hand pressed to his eyes. Arno was the only council member not seated. He paced back and forth as if all the restless energy he had would erupt any moment into violence.

Mikhail was a good distance from any of the Lycans. Tomas, Lojos, Mataias and Andre formed a barrier between Mikhail and the others in the room. Clearly Andre had been in a skirmish. As always, his eyes were flat and cold. No one moved. No one spoke.

Fen nudged Zev. Did I interrupt something? I came a little late to the party.

Lyall tried to kill Mikhail and the other council members. He rigged an explosive device, but your man Andre there caught him. Then Lyall apparently tried to turn a gun on the prince.

Shocking that he’s still alive. Gregori will have a few things to say to Andre about that, Fen said, meaning it. He believes if anyone tries to harm the prince, death is the only answer and I have to agree with him.

Apparently Mikhail and the council members asked Andre not to kill him. He wants answers. Zev looked down at the floor. This was the part he detested the most about his job. A clean kill was one thing, extracting information was something altogether different.

If he wasn’t Lycan, Fen said regretfully, we could just go in and get the information, but Lycans have a natural barrier against mind probes—unless you cut off their head. We could talk to Gregori and maybe he could persuade the prince.

Zev could tell he was half serious, and he was touched that Fen would try to think of ways to keep him from having to interrogate Lyall. Thanks, but it’s my job. The council will expect me to question him and get results.

Branislava slipped her hand in the crook of Zev’s arm. Why don’t you let me do it? I can ask him questions and I’m fairly certain he’ll answer.

Zev frowned down at her. Her green eyes had gone multifaceted, much like a dragon’s, but then changed color. Her hair banded with a deeper, almost wine red running through the lighter red gold. Her smile took his breath away.

My father was the High Mage and he frequently interrogated people without ever laying a finger on them. It mattered little which species, not when he used a truth spell. It isn’t that difficult and no one has to hurt anyone. Branislava leaned into him. I can really be quite useful.