04 - Rise of the Lycans (23 page)

Lucian was unpleasantly reminded of the forgotten catacombs beneath Castle
Corvinus.

Even after his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could still barely make out
anything at all. Something cracked beneath his boot, and he glanced down to see
a suspiciously human-looking jawbone. More bones were scattered across the floor
of the cavern. Fang marks gouged the skeletal remains, which had been cracked
open and stripped clean of their marrow. Lucian wondered if his own bones would
soon join the ghastly refuse. The bestial odor grew overpowering, while the
raspy sound of heavy breathing drowned out the rapid beating of Lucian’s heart.
Squinting in the dark, he rounded a corner, then froze in his tracks.

Glowing cobalt eyes stared back at him.

Scores of werewolves—the feral spawn of William—crowded an immense grotto
that rivaled the great hall of Castle Corvinus in size. The savage beasts were
everywhere, crouched on numerous ledges and formations, or lurking within
countless murky antechambers. Their hackles rose as they regarded the intruder
in their midst. Their lips peeled back, revealing yellow fangs. Hostile growls
echoed off the petrified walls of the cavern.

The sheer size of the pack took Lucian by surprise. His human instincts urged
him to turn and flee, but the wolf in him sensed instinctively that to do so
would be suicide. Above all else, he must not show fear. His mind flashed back
to his confrontation with the pack only two nights ago. Against all odds, he had
faced the ravening horde down. But could he do so again?

I must,
he realized.
My life depends on it.

A low snarl came from his right, only a few inches away from his ear.
Lucian gulped and fought down panic. Turning slowly, he found himself face-to-face with an enormous
werewolf. The terrifying monster towered above him. Its jaws looked big enough
to bite off his head with a single snap.

Don’t move,
Lucian thought. He didn’t even dare try to transform for fear
of provoking the beast. The werewolf was close enough to slay him in an instant,
before he could finish shifting into wolfen form himself. Lucian had left his
sword behind, in order to avoid provoking the werewolves, but now he regretted
that decision. Armed only with his own resolve, he summoned a memory of Sonja to
give him strength. He imagined her pale face shining down on him like the moon.
Forgive me, my love, if this desperate ploy costs us our future together.

A hush fell over the grotto as the rest of the pack watched the scene
expectantly. The looming werewolf lowered its shaggy head toward Lucian. Its
rank breath accosted his nostrils. Saliva dripped onto his shoulder. The monster
sniffed the intruder. Its protruding muzzle crinkled in confusion. Lucian took
that as a good sign.

That and the fact that the werewolf hadn’t killed him yet…

Raze sat by the campfire sharpening his ax. New recruits toted whatever
scythes, pitchforks, and swords they had managed to salvage from their former
homes, clinging to their weapons as they came to grips with their new lives in
the forbidding wilderness. Raze’s dark eyes scanned the threatening shadows
around them. He had not forgotten Viktor or his Death Dealers. Lucian had rescued
them from the vampires before, but their leader was not here to protect them
tonight. They would have to rely on their own strength and courage.

Raze offered a silent prayer to the watchful spirits of his ancestors.
Protect us from pale-skinned demons in the shape of men.

The prayer bolstered his spirits—until a chorus of fierce howls rang out,
from somewhere in the hidden depths of the forest. Raze shuddered at the sound,
and the men around him gasped and murmured fearfully. The baying seemed to fill
the air around them. The primal music of the wolves sent a chill down his spine.

Raze silenced the men with a wave of his hand. He listened carefully to the
canine ululations echoing through the woods. His memory flashed back to the
fearsome howls that had preceded the attack at the crossroads. Was it just his
imagination or was there a slightly different quality to the howling tonight?
The high-pitched baying sounded less like the hunting song of a bloodthirsty
pack and more like…

A celebration?

Viktor’s expensive robes stank like the drainage tunnels through which he had
just waded, but the Elder paid no heed to the unsavory odor. He had more
important things on his mind as he surveyed the turret of the abandoned
watchtower. Lucian’s trail had led to the deserted ruins, which showed evidence
of recent habitation. Bat droppings had been swept discreetly into a corner. Centuries of dust had lately been disturbed. Day-old bloodstains
speckled the floor. Evidence of a heated struggle?

It seemed that Lucian had been coming and going from the castle for some
time, all beneath the unsuspecting noses of his betters. Viktor chided himself
for his naiveté. Clearly, Lucian had many secrets. To what dire purpose had this
secret lair been put?

An abominable suspicion haunted the back of his mind, but the troubled Elder
was not yet ready to give voice to his deepest fear.
It cannot be,
he
thought plaintively.
Not my own daughter!

Wolves howled in the distance, mocking him.

Only two nights more,
Sonja thought.

Alone in her bedchamber, she could not wait to be reunited with Lucian again.
The next few days stretched before her like a prison sentence. Clad in a sheath
of fine mesh chain mail, she paced restlessly about her quarters. She supposed
that, for appearances sake, she should best go about her life as though nothing
were troubling her, but the thought of indulging in idle gossip with Luka and
the other vampire ladies repulsed her; how could she feign nonchalance while her
lover was a hunted fugitive? Despite her father’s prohibitions, she was sorely
tempted to go riding out in search of Lucian tonight, days earlier than they had
planned. Even if she failed to find him, it would be a blessed relief to escape
the noxious atmosphere of the castle, where Lucian’s escape was the talk of the court, and every vampire save for
her counted the days until his “inevitable” capture and execution. If she had to
hear another bloodthirsty aristocrat go on in gory detail about what ought to be
done to Lucian and the other rebel lycans, she was going to start cracking
skulls!

The shadowy gloom of the chamber depressed her, so she crossed to the vanity
to light some more candles. The warmth of the flames reminded her of Lucian’s
passionate embrace, and she took a moment to bask in the memory of their nights
together. Her blood quickened in anticipation of their upcoming reunion. The
prospect of seeing him again lifted her spirits somewhat—until she turned away
from the candles to find her father standing only a few feet away.

She gasped and clutched her heart. Lost in thought, she had not even heard
him enter.
What is he doing here?
she fretted anxiously. It was not like
him to invade her bedchamber without knocking.
Is he spying on me?

“Did I startle you, my dear?” he said blandly. “I am sorry.”

“No, no,” she assured him, attempting to regain her composure. “Not at all,
Father. I just did not… no…”

Pensive blue eyes examined her. His gaunt face bore an inscrutable
expression. She shrunk before his penetrating gaze, feeling exposed and
vulnerable. Almost naked.

“It occurs to me,” he mused aloud, “that I have been thoughtless. So wrapped
up in my own anguish over Lucian’s betrayal that I gave no thought to your own
feelings.”

“My feelings?” Sonja said warily.
Is this a trap? Has Tanis betrayed me?

“These lycans,” he reflected. “They worm their way into our lives, somehow
making us forget the travesty of their birth. I myself was fond of Lucian. If he
had been as we are, why, he could have been anything. A Death Dealer perhaps.”

His praise for Lucian rang hollow to Sonja, given how cruelly he had treated
the innocent lycan over the past few nights. Still, she strove to keep her ire
to herself. “Yes, perhaps.”

“But he was
not
as we are, was he?” His voice took on a darker, more
suspicious tone. “Did you help him escape?”

The abruptness of the accusation took her aback. “Help him?” She pretended to
be offended by the suggestion. “Of course not.”

She felt a sudden urge to flee her father’s presence. Glancing toward the
door, she was stunned to see two armored Death Dealers standing in the doorway.
Cold, implacable eyes gazed back at her from behind their helmets. Sonja
realized she was a prisoner in her own chambers.

Her voice faltered. “Father, please.”

“Are you lying to me?” he asked.

“No! I am not… I would not!” She tried urgently to placate him. “I know I
have done many things against your will, Father. But he is a
lycan
.”

She filled her voice with a contempt she no longer felt. As though the very
idea that she might ally herself with such a creature was ridiculous.

Her father weighed her words as he came up behind her. No doubt he wanted to
believe her; perhaps that would be enough to quell his suspicions. Peering back
over her shoulder, Sonja experienced a rush of relief as his stern expression
slowly melted. A rueful smile lifted his thin lips. He leaned forward as though
to kiss her warmly on the cheek.

“I am so sorry, my dear…”

Sonja’s tense muscles relaxed. She prepared to graciously accept his apology.

“…but you leave me with no choice.”

What?
She started in alarm and tried to pull away from him, but his
powerful hands held her fast. Before she could even try to defend herself, he
sank his fangs into her neck. She gasped out loud as her own father sucked the
blood from her jugular!

No!
she thought in stunned disbelief.
This can’t be happening!

The shocking assault was over in a heartbeat but left Sonja feeling dazed and
violated. He released his grip and she threw herself away from him in horror.
Her hand went to her neck, which was wet and sticky to the touch. Blood trickled
down the side of her throat. Nausea gripped her and she staggered away from him
toward the door. Her gorge rose. She thought she might vomit.

How could he do this to me? His own flesh and blood!

The intimidating Death Dealers barred her escape. They stepped inside the
chamber and slammed the door shut behind them. Their swords slid from their
scabbards. If either guard was appalled by the obscene spectacle they had just witnessed, they gave no sign of it. Sonja realized
she could count on no mercy from the grim-faced soldiers. These were her father’s
men, not hers.

She was on her own.

Trembling, she turned to face her father. A crimson smear stained his lips.
He casually wiped her blood from his teeth. A shadow gave his face a satanic
cast.

Sonja didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“This will only take a moment,” he said.

Viktor closed his eyes and let Sonja’s blood memories wash over him. The
images came in a torrent, flooding his consciousness with scattered fragments of
his daughter’s past. He saw the world through her eyes, felt what she felt,
heard what she heard. The more powerful the memory, the more vivid the
experience:

No more than a child, she beams up at him as he gently places the pendant
around her neck. She throws her tiny arms around him….

Standing beside her father on the balcony, she watches wide-eyed as a
handsome lycan youth snatches a silver arrow out of the air. “Lucian,” she
murmurs, tasting his name upon her lips. “Lucian….”

Snarling werewolves chase her though a moonlit forest. A frenzied horse pants
beneath her. Silver stars fly from the tip of her blade to strike an oncoming
werewolf in the face. The beast howls in agony as he crashes to the ground in
front of the speeding charger….

She gasps in ecstasy as Lucian grinds her against the wall of the watchtower.
His muscular chest caresses her breasts. Their naked bodies collide as she takes him deeply inside her. Her
passion rises to an almost unbearable peak. Her flesh quickens. Her blood sings
with every thrust. No other lover has ever thrilled her so!

Viktor’s eyes snapped open. His face contorted in disgust. He spit the
telltale blood onto the floor as though it were the foulest of poisons. His
entire body quivered with hurt and rage. Pulsing red veins streaked his eyes as
he glared at Sonja, who quailed before his unleashed wrath. She had never seen
him so irate, not even when he had killed that foolish nobleman before the
entire Council.

He knows,
she realizes.
He knows it all.

“Father?” She was at a loss for words, unable to explain what to him must be
inconceivable. How could she explain the depths of her passion for a creature he
regarded as even less than human? “I am sorry.”

An animal cry ripped from his throat as he flew at her like a hurricane. His
fist clamped around her throat as he threw her onto the nearby bed. Even the
hardened Death Dealers backed away fearfully, frightened by the Elder’s volcanic
fury. He held her down upon the bed. Her bleeding neck stained the sheets. She
screamed loudly enough to be heard all over the castle.

“I wanted to believe your lies!” her railed at her. Bloody spittle sprayed
her face. His sharp nails dug into her neck. “I suspected, but I knew it could
not be. Not my own daughter!” Angry tears leaked from his eyes. His voice was
hoarse with emotion.
“How could you?”

There was only one true answer. “Father, I love him.”

“Do not speak those words!”
His livid face twisted into a demonic mask.
His voice cracked as though his heart was breaking. “You betrayed me! To be with
an
animal!”