Dark Lycan

Tatijana approached the house built into the side of the mountain cautiously. She was under surveillance. She could feel eyes on her, and when she scanned, allowing her senses to flair out, she knew she wasn't alone outside the home of the prince. She had no idea of protocol and how one approached him, or even if he was accessible. She'd met him briefly, but both she and Branislava had been so weak and injured they barely knew what was happening to them.

She stopped a few hundred meters before she reached the large verandah. She had plenty of room to defend herself if need be. Spreading her arms out away from her body to show she had come in peace, she waited while Mikhail Dubrinsky's second-in-command, and protector, looked her over.

"Tatijana of the Dragonseeker clan," Gregori Daratrazanoff strode out of what appeared to be thin air. He looked impressive with his wide shoulders and glittering silver eyes. "To what do we owe this honor? We had no idea you had risen."

There was no censure in his tone, but she knew he wasn't pleased she was unescorted. He was a great believer in their women being protected at all times. She'd gleaned that much about him before she'd gone to ground to heal. He was an excellent man to protect the prince, but he was not her keeper.

"I've stumbled across something I think is important for you to know, if you don't already. I actually hoped to see you rather than disturbing the prince, so I'm grateful you were close. There is a rogue pack of werewolves hunting in this area and they answer to an alpha by the name of Bardolf. He is a mixture of both wolf and vampire blood and very difficult to kill. Lycans refer to such a mix as the Sange rau."

"Bad blood," Gregori translated.

Tatijana nodded. She was aware of time passing. Fen was on his own and wounded. She didn't like leaving him so long. "Not only does his heart have to be removed from his body, but the silver stake must be inserted completely through the heart and then both body and heart burned. He can regenerate very quickly. It's possible, but I don't know, that he's traveling with lesser vampires as well as the rogue pack."

She turned to go, but then turned back. "An elite Lycan hunter by the name of Zev is staying at the inn. He fought them this night and was badly injured. I did my best to see to his wounds. I was forced to give him blood, although I didn't allow him to know. MaryAnn and Manolito De La Cruz could be in danger."

She hesitated. She had no idea what the Carpathians thought of mixing the blood of a Lycan and Carpathian. For all she knew they could consider it just as taboo as the Lycans. She had been told by Lara, her niece-kin, during one of the times Lara had given her blood while she was still healing, but that didn't mean it was common knowledge that MaryAnn and Manolito were both Lycan and Carpathian.

"Why would they be in danger?" Gregori prompted.

She shrugged. "I only know that they are. I trust that you will warn them." Tatijana turned around and began to walk away, holding her breath, afraid he would stop her. She nearly ran into him, trying to listen for him behind her. She had to stop abruptly, almost bouncing off his chest. He had moved unbelievably fast-and silently-and had blocked her way.

"Where did you get this information?" His voice remained pleasant, matter-of-fact even, but she could tell he was used to intimidating those he questioned and that he expected an answer. Those piercing, intelligent eyes moved over her, dwelling on the streaks of blood she'd forgotten to clean when she was so busy trying to heal both Zev and Fen.

"I ran across the pack. They killed a man who had been drinking earlier in a tavern I'd visited. We found his body in the forest as I was returning."

He didn't take his eyes from her face. "As you can see, we have heightened security around the prince, but it was more that I had a feeling and the fact that Raven and Mikhail's son has survived his first two years than any real knowledge of a threat to the prince and his family. Lycans are extremely difficult to sense."

"These are not Lycan," Tatijana reiterated. "They're considered a rogue pack, and the Lycan elite hunters have been called in to exterminate them. It would be a grave error to mistake the two."

His eyebrow shot up. "I suppose it would. Who is 'we'? Who was with you when you ran across this dead body?"

"That's not relevant." Because she was uncertain of how Carpathians reacted to the mixed blood between Lycans and Carpathians she had to protect Fen at all costs. She didn't want to make an enemy of Gregori, but Fen was her lifemate. "I told you what I know because I felt as the protector of the prince you should be aware of the rogue werewolf pack. I'm still very uncomfortable in the presence of others. I need to leave."

That much was true. She feared he would attempt to detain her, and she knew she would fight. The fight-or-flight syndrome was engrained in her. She couldn't be held prisoner ever again. Her decisions, right or wrong, had to be her own. Gregori, with his impressive set of shoulders, implacable expression and glittering silver eyes was standing in her way and showed no indication that he would move.

"You are a Carpathian woman, Tatijana." Gregori's voice turned gentle. "Why would you think I would harm you in any way? I am sworn to protect you. There is no need to fear me."

"I fear myself and my reactions to situations," she replied honestly. "I must feel free. I do not want, nor can I have, guardians who watch my every move. I'm sorry if I appear to be difficult, but I have to be in charge of my own life."

"Yet you ran into a rogue pack." He indicated her lacerations. "You were in a battle, and you could have been killed. Our women are cherished. We protect them out of both love and respect. Along with our children, they are our greatest treasure."

She could hear the sincerity in his voice. She took a step back and attempted to still her wild heartbeat. Perhaps he wasn't threatening her. She had given him disturbing news and she had been in a battle. She wasn't used to anyone but Branislava caring about her well-being.

"I wander on my own in order to learn the things I need, and sometimes I stumble across things I shouldn't. I'll be more careful." She tried to placate him, if only just a little.

"Tatijana, do you really think I should let you go, bleeding from a battle, without escorting you back to your resting place and healing you properly?"

"It is my choice. My wish. You would have the freedom to go your own way. Why shouldn't I?"

A strange urgency was beginning to take hold of her. Fen was alone and wounded. Not only was the rogue pack after him but the wolf/vampire called the Sange rau had joined the hunt. She had been gone far too long.

Gregori inclined his head. She didn't like the way his eyes never left her face. He saw far too much.

"You have a point. But you are one of our greatest treasures, Tatijana. I would be remiss in not aiding you. Allow me to heal you."

No way could she let him touch her. He was too powerful. He might be able to get inside her mind and discover Fen. She didn't wait for him to make a move and she was through arguing. She was Dragonseeker. She knew every mage spell ever conceived. She dissolved and streaked up toward the clouds, deliberately leaving behind a nearly translucent trail of vapor. The moment she'd laid that false track, she called on the elements to aid her.

That faint, barely there stream moved away from the prince's home, its trajectory heading up the mountain into deeper forest. She doubled back, leaving no trace, not even the smallest molecule that would allow a hunter such as Gregori to pursue her. For a moment she had considered asking for his aid, just in case, but not knowing how Carpathians viewed mixed blood, she wasn't going to risk Fen any further.

She might have just come out of the ice caves, but over the centuries, more than one Carpathian hunter had been taken by Xavier and tortured before he was put to death. The male Carpathians especially found it distressing to see the twin females encased in their ice prison. The hunters had willingly shared their experience and knowledge with both women in the hopes that eventually they could use the information to escape.

She left no trace of herself behind. No scent. Nothing at all Gregori could track. More, she knew he wouldn't leave the prince for long, not with the news she'd brought. Lycans were elusive. They could be standing next to you and you would never know. The thought of a rogue pack so close to the prince and his son had to be disconcerting.

Tatijana made her way in the opposite direction of her false trail, going into deep forest, winding through the trees, staying low, close to the ground so she could see any evidence of the rogue pack passing. Wolves were very good at moving through an area and leaving few telltale signs, but twice she saw droplets of blood and twisted grass. The pack had passed through quickly, moving away from where the battle had taken place.

Still, something seemed off to her. It seemed more a discordant note, something unnamed, unseen, that jangled her nerves and set off warning bells.

Fen? Are you safe? I'm very close to you but something's not right.

Tatijana, this place is not for you. Let me spring this trap before you join me. If I get into trouble, you will be close to give me aid.

If she was in any form with teeth, she would have ground them in sheer frustration. She didn't know much about men and even less about lifemates, but why would he think she would worry less about him than he did about her? The pull between them was very strong, and the more time she spent in his mind, the more she came to know his honor and integrity. She found it impossible to just leave him to fight the battle alone.

She stayed quiet, not wanting to distract him as she moved through the trees with much more care. Fen bent over the dead body, removing evidence of the wolf pack's attack. It was important that locals thought he died accidentally and that none of the wildlife was responsible. He appeared to be wholly absorbed in his work.

The clacking of the branches was constant, the sound working its way through every living creature for miles. She braced herself when she heard it. She wasn't in a physical form, but still, the rhythm preyed on her nerves, threatening to consume her. She found it difficult to think straight. Her mind felt fuzzy and thick. She'd seen the trick work on countless victims in Xavier's cave of horrors.

She reached out to Fen's mind, terrified for him. His mind was calm. Clear. He was very aware of his surroundings and every tiny detail. The hypnotic effects didn't work on his brain pattern. There was something about the mixture of Carpathian and Lycan that repelled the notes, bouncing it back away from him.

Stay in my mind, Fen warned softly, brushing against her brain with a gentle touch. You'll be safe with me.

Xavier had mutated species on purpose, but his results had always been grotesque and frightening-beings that ate human flesh or were mindless, violent puppets. He had never considered what it would be to cross Lycan with Carpathian.

She allowed herself to sink into Fen's mind, surprised that he had invited her so deep into his memories. She was still protecting herself, holding most of her past away from him, yet he was completely open to her, hiding nothing from her. She felt warm and protected, not at all like she thought she'd feel-claustrophobic-a prisoner even.

She heard the soft whisper of a footfall because he heard it. His hearing was far more acute than she'd realized. A soft murmur accompanied the clacking branches. Her heart jumped, began to thud wildly.

That's a holding spell. If he completes it, you will not be able to move. He'll control your every movement.

The spell is tied to the rhythm, my lady, Fen reminded gently. I do not feel the effects of either. I want to see who or what is driving these attacks.

This is mage. I recognize the work of one of Xavier's favorite proteges. He was much younger than Xavier, but a true psychopath. Xavier was very proud of him and his sadistic nature. His name is Drummel. He is evil and very, very dangerous.

Can you counter his spells without revealing yourself?

Tatijana took a deep breath, allowing Fen to wrap her in his confidence. His calm was amazing to her. He had to have nerves of steel. He didn't turn around to face the threat, or indicate in any way that he knew he was being stalked. His hands were as gentle and reverent on the dead man as always. No trembling. Nothing at all to give away that he was well aware of the danger coming up behind him.

The chanting increased, more rhythmic than ever, matching the increasing beating of the branches together. One step. Two. A slight rustle and then there was only the sound of the hypnotic notes. Tatijana tried to stop up her ears and settle deeper into the safety of Fen's mind.

Fen exploded into action, whirling around, still in a crouch, going in low, using his Lycan form, half man, half wolf, enormously strong. He knocked Drummel onto his back and was on him in an instant. Tatijana would never have believed anything could move as fast as Fen had. He struck so hard he knocked the wind from Drummel's lungs, leaving him gasping for air.

Fen wrapped his hand around his assailant's throat, cutting off his air supply. With his lungs already burning, Drummel's eyes bulged out of his head. He drew back his lips in a gasping snarl. His teeth were stained brown and pointed.

Fen shook him, never lessening his grip. "I see you, Bardolf," he hissed. "You knew your possession had no chance of capturing me with his holding spell. Why sacrifice a pawn of value?"

He's shadowed. How would Bardolf know how to split himself and implant a shadow in another? Tatijana asked. Very few mages can do this. It's extremely difficult and very frightening. Shadows are lethal, Fen, and they can enter anyone close to them. Be careful.

Fen didn't need to be told Drummel was shadowed. He could see Bardolf staring back at him through the eyes of the man's body he'd commandeered. He had found a way to possess a mage as skilled and as powerful as Drummel. What did that say about Bardolf?

Drummel's mouth moved several times, his lips struggling to form words. "I will take my pack and move on, Fenris Dalka."

There was power in speaking another's name. Every instinct Fen had immediately put him on guard. He stretched his senses, scanning the area around him. It was nearly impossible to detect Lycans when they wanted to remain hidden. Werewolves had a more difficult time as they couldn't contain their energy and their eagerness for the kill, but they were still adept at hiding from the average hunter.

Be on the alert, Tatijana. There is more going on here than meets the eye.

"Why do you say this to me, Bardolf? Why not just take your pack and go?" Fen demanded.

"I want your word you will no longer hunt us." Drool and spittle ran in long strings from Drummel's mouth to his chin

That made no sense. Fen was a hunter. A Carpathian. Bardolf had recognized that he was both Lycan and Carpathian, which meant he had to know Fen was Carpathian first, an ancient hunter of the vampire. It was his duty, a matter of honor to hunt the undead. Bardolf was definitely the undead. He might have werewolf mixed in, but he was vampire and had to be destroyed.

"It is my sworn duty to my people to bring justice to those who have given up their souls for the rush of adrenaline they get for the kill." Fen's hold on Drummel's throat was relentless. He wasn't about to allow Bardolf's shadow to escape and try to slip inside him. "I think you already know that."

I will watch for the shadow. If he tries to enter you, I can repel him, Tatijana assured. I didn't spend centuries in Xavier's lair without learning every spell he ever made. Bardolf had to learn from Drummel. Yes, he was very good, but I am better.

There was no bragging in her tone. Tatijana was afraid of what was happening. She knew just how dangerous the mage was and now doubly so with Bardolf's shadow in him. She had confidence in herself, but she didn't want Fen to be overly confident.

Have no worries, my lady, he assured. What he is saying to me is pure drivel. He knows I will hunt them. I am well aware this is a stalling tactic.

He inhaled, using Lycan-heightened senses, the acute hearing and smell, but he didn't take his eyes from Drummel.

"I offer you a deal."

"Justice does not make deals, Bardolf. I am the one appointed to bring that justice to you."

Drummel spit and snarled, the red eyes spinning wildly with hatred and malice before Bardolf made a tremendous effort to recover. Just that alone put Fen further on edge. Vampires were not known for their control. Why would Bardolf make such an effort?

Fen, I am telling you, if Bardolf was Lycan before he became vampire, he could not possibly have placed a shadow of himself inside of a mage of Drummel's importance. An ancient Carpathian might know. Even a vampire might have run across a mage willing to trade his soul for immortality, but how would a Lycan even know about such things? Tatijana asked.

If Tatijana was right, and she was the daughter of the most powerful mage in history, then Bardolf couldn't have placed his shadow in Drummel. Fen didn't wait to find out what Bardolf had to say next. There was no reasoning with madmen, and he saw no reason to wait for the attack he knew was coming any moment. He struck hard and fast, breaking Drummel's neck.

The mage's eyes opened wide, Bardolf staring in shock and horror. The body seized, convulsed. Poisonous sweat burst from his pores, out his eyelids and mouth.

Look out. Get back, Tatijana warned. She withdrew from her refuge, streaking to the battlefield to aid him. The sliver of Bardolf will seek another host.

Fen spun around, more worried about what he couldn't see or hear than that small piece of Bardolf. Keep it off me, he commanded, certain of her now, knowing she would guard his back. And stay hidden. Do not reveal yourself no matter what happens, he added, cautioning her. They were not alone and he knew it.

The dead body jerked. Coughed. Fen didn't spare it a glance. That was Tatijana's territory and he could already hear her murmuring an ancient spell directed at the sliver of a shadow, so small but deadly. His was to find the unseen threat. He moved away from the dead body where Bardolf's shadow sought a new host.

On the ground, small insects swarmed over rotting vegetation and Fen leapt into the air, just as creatures in the form of half man, half wolf, poured out of the trees in all directions. Directly beneath where he'd been standing, the ground erupted into a dark geyser of contaminated soil, spraying high, and with it, another large figure burst into the air after Fen, his long wolflike arms extended, claws tipped with glistening poison.

Fen reversed direction, hurtling toward the newcomer with blurring speed, slamming into him with such force they both tumbled back toward the ground. In his fist, he had a silver stake. This was the vampire/wolf Bardolf had tangled with and supposedly killed. Bardolf had exchanged life for servitude under a master killer.

Fen plunged the silver stake through the chest wall, deep into the heart of the vampire. He barely recognized him, a Carpathian male only a few years younger than him, one he'd played with as a boy. Abel, his parents called him. He'd been a boy with a sunny personality. Always smiling. Fen would never have thought Abel would choose to become vampire. He actually felt a pang of sorrow when he drove that silver stake into his chest and twisted the spiral in deeper.

Black blood poured over his fist, wrist and arm, burning like acid down to his bone. Abel's eyes widened, but he didn't pull away as expected. He was not only vampire, he was also werewolf. The long snout rushed at Fen, the razor-sharp teeth sinking into his neck and shoulder, slicing down to the bone as Abel ripped chunks of flesh away. Blood streamed down Fen's body, and the vampire lapped at the ancient treat, gulping to get as much as possible.

Fen shoved him away as they both hit the ground hard. The scent of his rich, Carpathian blood set up a frenzied mass hysteria. The werewolves howled and rushed at him. Fen dissolved as they all leapt on him. As he streaked away, one arm emerged, fist holding a silver stake, which he plunged into the nearest werewolf's heart. He moved quickly to get out of that crush of werewolves, a trail of ruby red blood giving his path away.

He pushed the pain to another dimension as he worked furiously to stop the blood flow. Tatijana was immediately beside him, a mere translucent image. Her hands became flesh and moved over his open lacerations. The sound of her soft healing chant filled his mind. For a moment the ice cold of his injuries burned hot. She'd stopped the blood by cauterizing the area.

You cannot be here. It's too dangerous. If he spots you, he'll go after you in order to get to me.

I can scatter the werewolves, and hunt them from the sky.

There was no time to argue with her. Watch for tricks and stay high. Lycans can leap enormous distances.

The tree limbs shook. Trunks split with a terrible boom, a heralding of great danger. Tatijana streaked for the sky, shifting into her blue dragon, answering the echoing blast with a roaring challenge of her own.

Abel followed the trail of red blood, and was on Fen just as Tatijana took to the air. The undead leapt after her, but Fen blocked his path with his body, so that the vampire slammed into him and they both landed on their feet in the middle of the werewolf pack.

"Take him, my hungry wolves," Abel commanded, his voice filled with compulsion. "Do not let him escape. He is my gift to you with his hot, rich blood, fresh and flowing in his veins."

Howling, the wolves surrounded Fen. He moved in a circle, keeping his gaze on the Sange rau, but his senses waiting for the attack from the werewolves. The rumbling growls grew louder, indicating the pack was working itself up to attack mode. Abel smirked, his black-stained, serrated teeth were stuck deep into his receding gums as he pulled the silver stake from his heart and tossed it to the ground at Fen's feet.

"I have come to join this party," a voice announced.

A Carpathian hunter strode out of the trees into the midst of the frenzied werewolves, drawing them away from Fen. Silver eyes slashed as he moved fast through their ranks, breaking necks and backs and then tossing the bodies aside.

I'm sorry. That's Gregori Daratrazanoff, second to the prince and prime protector of the Carpathian people. He must have followed me here. I can't flame the werewolves from the sky without burning Gregori alive.

As fast as Gregori was, the werewolves were faster, seeking new blood, hot and alive. They swarmed him, sheer numbers taking him down until he was buried beneath the frenzied bodies.

Cursing under his breath, Fen had no choice but to share his knowledge of all things rogue and the vampire/wolf combination with the hunter through the common Carpathian telepathic link. He knew he was putting himself at risk-the Carpathian could glean a tremendous amount of information about him as well in seconds. He had used the common pathway so rarely, he couldn't be certain he had conveyed the speed and strength of the rogues, or the immense power of the Sange rau. As he passed on the information, Fen leapt into the fray, hurtling bodies off the prince's guardian.

As Gregori struggled to stand, Abel struck hard and fast, rushing Fen, hitting him from behind and knocking him off his feet. Fen called on his Lycan blood, twisting in midair as he went down, shifting with lightning speed so that it was Lycan claws grasping Abel's neck and yanking him down with him. His claws dug deep into the vampire's neck, anchoring himself, his own muzzle growing to accommodate the expanse of teeth.

They rolled on the ground, Fen taking them away from the writhing mass of werewolves, his teeth tearing at Abel's throat.

Gregori, get out of there! he warned as he tore into the Sange rau with the strong bite of the Lycan. Black blood poured over him, his muzzle, and down his neck and chest, burning like acid. The scent of burnt flesh permeated the air.

Abel screamed in horror and fear as Fen relentlessly held him, uncaring that the undead ripped at his flesh and tore at his chest to get to his heart. He had to hold out until the undead became so terrified that he called to his pack. It was the only way to save Gregori from the vicious, voracious pack.

Fen drove one fist deep into Abel's chest, claws searching for the withered, blackened heart, even as he continued to bite chunks of rotted flesh from the vampire/wolf.

"Kill this one. Leave the other. All of you, kill this one," Abel screamed.

His voice was high-pitched and hurt the sensitive ears of the werewolves. They set up a terrible din, howling and screaming, as they reluctantly obeyed their leader. Out of the corner of his eye, Fen could see Gregori on the ground, still fighting off a particularly large werewolf who didn't want to give up the rich blood of the Carpathian.

Above him, the blue dragon soared across the sky, circling around above the canopy to suddenly drop down with a steady stream of fire that engulfed several of the werewolves. She took great care to stay clear of Gregori. The tall werewolf ripping and tearing at him leapt without warning, without so much as turning his head, claws catching the underside of the blue dragon's belly where he hung by his curved long nails alone.

The blue dragon retaliated with a curling of her long, spiked tail. It swept beneath her to hit the werewolf with a tremendous slap, the spikes driving in deep even as her great wings drove hard to lift her high above the canopy. The force of the blow knocked the rogue's claws loose. For a moment he teetered, desperately raking at her belly for a better grip. The tail slapped him a second time, and with a sharp cry, he fell back to earth.

Blood dripped steadily from the wounded dragon, but she dove after the werewolf as he hurtled toward the ground, righting himself in order to better land on his feet. The werewolf looked up just as the wedge-shaped head shot toward him, bellowing fire as she trumpeted her pain and rage. Flames engulfed the wolf as he fell to the ground, landing hard. He leapt to his feet, legs clearly broken, but still, he ran screaming through the remaining pack, fanning the fire as he did so that the orange-red flames roared and grew larger.

The moment the werewolf had leapt to claw at the blue dragon, Gregori staggered to his feet, bleeding in dozens of places. He thrust his hand toward the rest of the rogue pack, setting a barrier between Fen and the werewolves, preventing them from rushing the hunter as he fought the powerful vampire/wolf cross. Some of the rogues turned back toward Gregori while others tore at the shield in an effort to go to the aid of their master.

The dead body of the drunken human jerked and moved, inching across the ground toward Gregori, the shadowy sliver of Bardolf working to find a live host to help his master.

Behind you! Tatijana warned.

The blue dragon circled back, large globs of blood falling from the sky as she banked and came in low. Gregori swung his head around, seeing the abomination of dead flesh digging fingernails into the earth to pull the body toward him.

I'll burn it, but you have to get out of there, Tatijana warned.

Gregori made a valiant effort to get out of the line of fire, stumbling toward the pack trying to tear down the barrier between them and Fen. Fen and the Sange rau rolled across the shivering ground, neither letting go of their hold on the other. As Tatijana made her approach, the ground shifted and rocked, throwing Gregori down.

The earth shuddered, trembled and then beneath the surface, one side drove the other upward. Great cracks appeared. Trees split in half.

From her vantage point in the sky, Tatijana could see the huge zigzagging crack, a great yawning abyss opening and rocketing toward Fen and the vampire/wolf as their fierce battle continued.

Fen! Tatijana screamed his name in her mind, half warning, half sobbing.

She flamed the dead body jerking and clawing its way toward Gregori and continued diving straight down. Tucking her wings and dropping like a stone, she hurtled toward that widening crack just as it engulfed Fen and the Sange rau. Gregori leapt after them, just as the werewolves broke through the shield to get to their master. They tumbled into the narrow crack in their rush to get to the rogue leader.

Fen dropped through the crack, shoulders scraping on either side of the walls of dirt, roots and rock. He hung grimly onto Abel, claws digging deeper into the chest, determined to get to the heart even as he tore chunks from the vampire's neck and throat. Neither could dissolve into vapor as their claws prevented the other from getting away.

Tatijana blasted past Gregori, wings still tucked tight against her body, as she dove after Fen. As she approached the two combatants, she stretched her neck as far as it would go, her giant, wedged-shaped head shoving itself up against the side of Abel's head. She let loose a blast of fire, taking great care even as they were tumbling, to make certain she concentrated the exhale of flames only over the vampire's skull.

Fen couldn't help but admire her skill. She was still diving, moving fast, and he felt the blast of heat, but not one hint of flame touched him. Abel screamed, the sound horrible. The smell was worse. The earth began to close below them with ominous groans and creaks. The very planet seemed to shudder.

Let him go, Tatijana ordered. Right now, you have to let him go or we'll all be killed. All three of us.

He was so close. His fingers were around that withered heart. He couldn't quite yank it free. Abel's too powerful to leave alive. I just have to get a better grip . . .

Tatijana used her triangular head to knock the vampire/wolf out of Fen's hands. Abel dropped away, the wind fanning the flames totally engulfing his head. Tatijana used her long neck to wind around Fen, catching him before he could drop away. He caught the spines and pulled himself around until he could slide onto her back. Her wings braked their fall.

Fen looked up to see Gregori dropping fast, his bloody body ravaged and torn. He held out his hand. Gregori!

His hand caught Gregori's wrist, Gregori's fingers wrapped tightly around his. Fen dragged him onto the dragon's back. He heard Gregori grunt in pain, but the hunter gripped him hard as the blue dragon made her valiant effort to outrun the closing of the earth. The walls scraped her wings, tearing chunks of skin from her. She cried out, but she continued the ascent.

Every werewolf she passed, most clinging to the dirt walls of the deep fissure, tried to claw and scrape at her, sometimes driving teeth into her in a desperate attempt to either impede her progress or hitch a ride. They were all trying to climb fast up those dirt walls before the crack closed all the way. Below them, both sides of the abyss accelerated the speed with which they were slamming closed.

Tatijana burst into the air above the gaping hole in the ground and nearly toppled from the sky. She landed awkwardly, her sides heaving just as the two sides of the crevasse jolted together with a terrible grinding sound. The blue dragon staggered forward in an effort to keep her passengers safe, leaving behind a thick trail of blood. She shuddered, stumbled and went down, the wedge-shaped head slamming hard and plowing through the soil as her body continued driving forward.

Tatijana! A woman's cry filled Fen's mind using his lifemate's path to him. Torn. Frightened. Shocked. Is she dead? I'm coming to her.

He knew at once that voice was Branislava, Tatijana's sister. Do not. I can heal her and protect her. Gregori is here as well, but not both of you. Trust me to do this.

Fen leapt from the dragon's back, landing on his feet, the long distance jolting him hard. He glanced down at his body and was shocked to see the blood and chunks of gaping flesh where Abel had clawed, bit and raked him.

Branislava was in his mind for a moment drawing as much information about him as possible before she abruptly acquiesced. If you let anything happen to her I will hunt you for all your days until I destroy you.

I accept that.

He broke the connection between them as he rushed around the dragon's body to the head and caught it in his arms, bringing it up so the huge eyes stared into his.

"Shift, Tatijana. Shift right now. If you never ever obey me again in this lifetime, you do it this once. Shift for me now." He poured everything he was into that command. His fear for her. His anger that he had allowed her to get hurt. His growing love. His respect. His need that she stay alive and stay with him.

Gregori jumped from her back, landing heavily, barely managing to stay on his feet. He staggered around the large body of the dragon to the head as well.

The great eyes of the dragon blinked and then closed, but Fen felt her body shudder with the effort to obey. He slipped into her mind. Consciousness was fading fast. Come to me, sivamet-my love. Give yourself to me. I will hold you safe.

There was one moment of uncertainty, as if she might not trust him enough to place herself so fully into his hands. He waited for her to make up her mind, although there was no time and his heart pounded so hard in his chest it sounded like thunder to him. She capitulated suddenly and he felt her let go, giving her spirit essence into his care.

Immediately the great blue dragon was gone and Tatijana's body was in his arms. He didn't wait. He tore open his wrist and pressed it to her mouth. He sank to the ground, holding her to him. Gregori went to his knees beside them. He immediately shed his wounded body and became pure light. He entered Tatijana's body and began to work feverishly to stem the flow of blood. He didn't stop, not even when two more hunters dove from the sky to aid them.

Jacques Dubrinsky, brother to the prince, and Falcon Amiras, an ancient hunter, looked around the battlefield. Some werewolves were beginning to stir. Some bodies were already regenerating.

"Tell us what to do to kill them," Jacques said. "Nothing like coming late to the party."

"Silver spikes. Drive them completely through their hearts and then remove the head of the rogue. Burn the bodies with the spikes in them," Fen said.

He was tired. Exhausted. He kept his focus on Tatijana, holding her close while he fed her life-giving blood. He was grateful to Gregori, so torn up, but selflessly healing Tatijana, putting her before his own injuries.

Falcon came to stand beside Fen. "You and Gregori need a little healing of your own," he pointed out, offering his own wrist. "I offer freely," he added in the tradition of the Carpathian people.

Fen hesitated. It had been long since he'd trusted anyone but Dimitri.

"You need it," Falcon told him. "For her. Do you remember me? You were a few years older. You helped to hone my fighting skills."

Fen inclined his head. He had to shift Tatijana in his arms, propping her against his chest while he continued to give her as much blood as he could. It was slow going, as he basically had to swallow for her. He bent his head to Falcon's proffered wrist. The ancient blood hit him with a rush of strength, in spite of his horrendous wounds.

He could feel the difference in Tatijana, the way Gregori meticulously repaired the damage done to her belly and sides. Her arms were torn with bite marks and multiple lacerations. Gregori's body was ravaged and torn as well, but he took his time, ensuring he missed nothing.

The moment he was back in his own body, swaying with weariness, Jacques was there, one arm going around the healer and the other offering him blood. "This looks like one heck of a battle," he said. "In all my years, I've never run into a rogue pack."

Fen politely sealed the small wounds in Falcon's wrist. "This is a big pack. Two vampires/wolves called the Sange rau by the Lycans who run with them."

All three Carpathians exchanged long looks and then turned their full attention on Fen. He shifted Tatijana in his arms. "The vampires are crosses, both Lycan and vampire. I knew Bardolf, an alpha Lycan. That was many years ago. A vampire cross had torn through packs, completely destroying entire packs, and I joined the hunt for him. Evidence looked as though Bardolf had killed him. Instead, they must have joined forces. I tracked them here."

"Who is guarding the prince with both of you here?" Gregori demanded of Falcon and Jacques. "He sent you after me, didn't he?"

Fen hid a smile at the sheer frustration in Gregori's voice.

"At least he didn't come himself, this time," Jacques pointed out. "That's a first for him. Must be his son mellowing him out." He grinned down at Gregori. "You're a little worse for wear. I can't let you go home this way. Savannah would have my head. Let me see what I can do to heal you while Falcon works on . . ." Deliberately he waited.

"Fen. Fenris Dalka," Fen stated. He pinned Falcon with a steely gaze. "It's imperative I remain Lycan to those in this area. The elite hunters are on their way. A man by the name of Zev is staying at the inn. He's the scout sent out ahead of the hunters. To do that, he has to be the elite of the elite. Believe me, I saw him in action, and he's even better than I could describe. They're hunting their own killers just as we hunt ours."

"Why would you want them to think you're Lycan rather than Carpathian?" Gregori asked. He ignored the fact that Jacques hadn't waited to get his permission to heal his wounds.

Fen shrugged. "Lycans do not tolerate a mix between Lycan and Carpathian. They believe once they turn vampire, they are far too destructive and too difficult to kill. I have no idea how Carpathians weigh in on the issue."

Gregori frowned at him. "I have never really seen or heard of a Lycan/Carpathian cross until MaryAnn and Manolito De La Cruz sent us word that she was Lycan and their blood mixed rather than one taking over the other. Is there some reason why we should have a problem with a Lycan/Carpathian cross? We've always been friends with the Lycan and vice versa. Carpathians and vampires are not the same, they know that."

"Master vampires are extraordinarily difficult to kill," Fen said. Already the influx of Falcon's blood and the healing the Carpathian had done had given him more strength, but he was utterly exhausted. He needed to go to ground. And he needed to get Tatijana to ground. "A vampire/wolf cross is a hundred times that difficult. The destruction and damage, the savagery of their kills is also a hundred times more. They are rare to come across, so few hunters know how to kill them."

"But you do," Gregori stated.

Fen sighed. "Knowing isn't always enough, as you well know, hunter."

"Gregori," Jacques interrupted gently. "All three of you need to go to ground. Perhaps this discussion would better take place in my brother's home at a later time."

Gregori nodded his head. "Forgive me, Fenris, you do need to take Tatijana, who is clearly your lifemate, and go to ground."

"I thank you for coming to our aid. I didn't know about Abel at the time I tracked them here. And I only suspected Bardolf's involvement with the rogue pack when I crossed their path and began tracking them. Also"-he frowned-"the pack is much larger than we first thought."

Gregori stood up slowly, his body still reluctant to work properly after the terrible savagery of the rogue pack attack. "Please come to Mikhail's home on your first rising to give us more information. We'd be grateful."

Fen sighed. By rights, if he met the prince, he should swear fidelity, but he had to think like a Lycan. Be a Lycan. And the cycle of the full moon was starting. If he crossed paths with Zev, or his elite hunters, they would kill him and ask questions later. Life had gotten far more complicated.

The Carpathians were silent, waiting his decision. In the end, he simply nodded and took to the air, Tatijana in his arms. He made certain no one was following him before he circled around to the spot where he'd left his brother. He opened the earth above Dimitri-better to guard him-and settled in with Tatijana. Above him the soil poured in, covering them both. Leaves and debris swirled above their resting place and fell softly, naturally, covering the area as if it had never been disturbed.