Dark Lycan (Dark #24)(27)
Author: Christine Feehan

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.

Chapter 6

Fen woke three risings beneath the earth, still sore, feeling bruised and battered, but he left Tatijana and Dimitri to find sustenance for them. He’d reassured Branislava each rising that Tatijana was mending well and would come to her as soon as she was properly healed.

He was well aware on his third night that he was now in the most perilous time where any Lycan would know immediately he wasn’t wholly one of them. He took care to conceal himself. As a rule, during this time, he stayed in the ground, avoiding any possible confrontation, but he didn’t have that luxury-and he knew the elite team would have joined Zev by this time.

He was a little surprised that, although it had been centuries for him, the Carpathian Mountains still felt like a home to him. He had traveled throughout the world, rather than remaining in one place, so he’d never truly found another environment to call home. The soil was extraordinary, and he’d forgotten what that mineral rich loam could feel like. Still . . .

He was worried about Dimitri. Dimitri’s belly wasn’t healing as well as he would have liked. He concealed himself in the fog, moving through the forest until he came upon the outskirts where a small farm had been carved out of the marsh. The farm backed up to a swampy area, but was neat and tidy. Stacks of hay were piled in the field farthest from the water. Horses tossed heads nervously and stomped hooves as he passed, the Lycan scent spooking them.

The farmer came out of his house, glancing toward the corral where the horses began to half rear and gallop around as if that would save them from a pack of wolves. The man disappeared back into his house and reemerged with a shotgun, looking over toward the nervous horses. Fen stayed in the mist as it circled through the field, swirling around the haystacks so they appeared as disembodied towers in the clouds.

The farmer stepped off the porch and again cautiously looked around. The horses trumpeted their distress over and over. Fen moved slower, allowing the wind to carry him above the corral. There was no way the horses would be in such a state over his scent. There was something else there, stalking the animals-or the farmer. There was no wolf pack closing in on the horses, or he would have seen them.

Fen kept his gaze on the farmer even as he moved cautiously in the midst of the dense fog creeping around him. Something moved along the ground. Something dark, twisted and ugly. The thing had crawled out of the swamp and dragged itself over the field, first toward the horses, then, when scenting the farmer, turned toward him.

Fen saw the disgusting creature huddled beside a boulder, positioning itself for the attack as the farmer drew near. Hastily, Fen shifted, to come striding out of the mist straight toward the owner of the farm. "Look out, man, step back," he called, pushing compulsion into his tone.

Startled, the farmer did as Fen commanded. The twisted creature struck at him, fangs hooking his boot. It wiggled and growled, hissing its impatience. That small sliver of a shadow, a part of Bardolf, was still without a host it could influence to do evil. Animals could sustain its life, but certainly could never be used for the purpose Bardolf intended.

"What is it?" the man asked, shaking his boot and trying to knock the animal loose with the shotgun.

"A deadly creature," Fen answered honestly. "A vampire’s familiar." He knew most of the folks living around the village were superstitious-they believed in vampires-mostly because they’d had encounters with them even though the rest of the world made fun of them. They knew evil existed and they did their best to guard against it. The farmer made the sign of the cross and slammed his shotgun down on the wriggling creature.

Fen kicked it away from the farmer, produced a silver knife and plunged it into the ghastly creature, a cross between an eel and a snake. The creature screamed and writhed, black blood pouring from it. With it came the elusive shadow-a sliver of Bardolf. The sliver leapt toward the farmer, determined to live, to make its way back to its master.

Fen withdrew the knife from the twisted creature and threw it. The blade sliced cleanly through the shadow, pinning it to the ground. A great eye formed in the middle, staring at them with hatred and malice-a combination of Bardolf and Abel. The eye was evil, vertical rather than horizontal. The silver knife penetrated exactly in the middle of the eye. Black blood burst around the pupil and dripped on the ground, forming a dark pool.

The eye squealed, the pitch rising to a horrendous shriek as it wriggled and fought to become free. Fen swept the farmer behind him protectively, as the two vampires fought with concentrated strength to free the shadow. The eye convulsed, and a puff of black smoke burst the pupil and the light began to slowly fade as the shadow lost its life. With one last fading cry the shadow went limp and completely dark.

The farmer stepped around Fen and spit right in the middle of the pool of black blood before turning to face the hunter. He bowed awkwardly. "Thank you. You saved me. I’ve never had the honor of meeting one of our guardians." He smiled, his eyes lighting up. "We hear the rumors you know, but we can go lifetimes without ever knowing if they’re true or not."

"For your own safety," Fen pointed out. "Stand way back. I have to incinerate this quickly. You don’t want infected vampire blood anywhere near your fields."

Fen waited until the farmer moved off to a safe distance and he stared up at the sky, drawing in churning dark clouds. Thunder rolled ominously. Lightning forked, sizzling, spreading out, nearly blinding them with the bright flash of light. He felt the ground charging, the energy flowing through his body. He extended his arm toward the black blood, hideous creature and malevolent eye. Lightning leapt from ground to sky and back again. The stench nearly choked them both. Black tendrils of smoke rose and dissipated in the air, leaving a clean, fresh scent. The creature, eye and pool of blood incinerated as if they never had been.