Dark Blood (14 page)

Zev couldn’t quite keep the note of anger out of his voice. He was furious with Damon. Lycans didn’t behave this way. They had a code of honor they lived by—
he
had lived by it. So had Damon.

“Tell me again who told you I was dead.”

Damon rubbed his temples. “I don’t know. I was at a meeting. A service. I was worried about Daciana. There had been trouble in the forest at the summer cabins. I couldn’t get ahold of her and I thought I’d try to get some news. You know all that talk they do bores the hell out of me.”

“They?” Zev prompted. Overhead the storm clouds sizzled with whips of lightning. Thunder boomed, shaking the ground.
Branka, that’s too close, pull in your power a little bit,
he cautioned. She was going to light up the entire forest if she wasn’t careful.

I’ve got this,
Branislava said.
No worries.

Zev sighed. When a woman said not to worry, that was clearly the best time to be worried.

Damon scowled again, trying to recall who the speaker was. “He’s there at the meetings all the time with Arno and Lupo. They give motivational speeches all the time. He’s in Lupo’s pack. Why can’t I remember his name?”

Lupo Wolfe was one of the oldest council members who had been locked away to protect the existing council should any of the traveling members be lost.

Zev noted that Damon pressed his fingers to his temples again. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. My head feels like it’s splitting in two.”

“Don’t think about this anymore,” Zev suggested, suddenly suspicious. There was a hint of blood, just a small trickle near Damon’s nose. “Let’s go find your sister. She can fill you in on what’s happening. It will be good to have you around while we try to sort things out. We need help protecting the council members from our own kind. We don’t know who the enemy actually is.”

Lightning zigzagged through the trees, a giant whip, lashing through the forest like a cat-o’-nine-tails. He caught Damon and threw him to the ground just as one of the switches snapped over their heads.

Soft laughter rippled through his mind, almost a giggle, a sound Zev had never heard Branislava make.
Whoops. Sorry. Lightning whips are difficult to wield, aren’t they?

That sound wrapped around his heart and squeezed tight.
Get that under control. Dial it down. You’ve got way too much power and you’re going to hurt yourself.

He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d never actually tried controlling lightning. He’d seen both Fen and Dimitri call down the lightning, but he was Lycan. He didn’t call it down. He could see how it would be useful, but not in the hands of an overly enthusiastic woman.

Damon slammed him down as another sizzling streak of white-hot fire snapped over their heads, coming a little too close for comfort. Every hair on his body stood up.

Zev burst out laughing.
Woman! What are you trying to do?

“This is some crazy storm,” Damon said.

“More like a crazy woman,” Zev countered, and pushed himself up. “Get your weapons and let’s get out of here.”
If you’re finished playing . . .

She came out of the trees, walking toward him, her long hair swept back in a braid that trailed down her back. The silken mass was fiery red. Her eyes shone like emeralds and she had a huge smile on her face. In her hands she spun fire, the flames streaking through the air in loops around her as she danced.

She looked exotic, stealing his breath with her beauty. The double rings of fire looped around her body and then rose as she wielded the whips, spinning them around her and then back to either side. The whips were golden in color, the flames crossing her body, sweeping under her feet as she leapt gracefully into the air and then rose above her as she came back to earth.

Zev’s breath caught in his throat. Beside him, Damon’s jaw dropped. Branislava’s soft laugh of pure joy was contagious and both of them smiled at her.

The flaming whips changed color, going fiery red and orange as she made intricate patterns in the night, all the while her body moving to some melody only she could hear.

Zev glanced at the rapt expression on Damon’s face and growled low, his gut tightening into knots. “Pick up your jaw and stop staring at her like you’re going to eat her up. She belongs to me.”

“You’re kidding,” Damon answered before he could censor his shock. “Sorry, she’s just so sexy.”

Zev cuffed him again, this time hard enough to send him forward, sprawling on the forest floor. “You don’t need to think she’s sexy.”

“I don’t think it,” Damon glared at him from the ground, unable to tear his eyes from the fire dance. “I
know
it. No wonder you kept coming back here.”

Zev sighed. He couldn’t very well fault Damon for having eyes, but his wolf was definitely reacting all over again. He had to find some kind of balance. It helped that, as Branislava spun and danced, she looked only at him—danced only for him.

He could see that she felt free and young and happy, something she’d never been able to do. Clearly dancing was going to be a passion of hers. Her skin glowed as if the fire inside her burned passionately. He didn’t want the moment to end for her. She’d had so little happiness or fun in her life, and playing with lightning whips gave her such joy. Damon thought the whips were poi, two chains with the globes for fuel attached to either end.

Branislava danced toward him, whirling around.
Come dance with me.

He wanted to—he wanted to be part of her fun. It was important to him that she have all the time she needed to get to know him and that they shared moments just like this one together, but he had the responsibility of Damon.

If he’s really hiding the truth and I just don’t see it because he’s my friend, it could be dangerous.

We have lightning.
She spun the whips furiously.

Zev laughed. He wasn’t going to use lightning whips, but he could improvise. “Stay here a minute, Damon. Right there on the ground. And don’t do anything stupid. She’s pretty mean with those fire whips.”

He danced his way to her, picking up her rhythm, his sword spinning in the air. He could hear the music playing in her head, the drumbeats her feet followed. As he neared her, flames leapt from her whips to his sword, igniting the tip and racing up the blade. He spun the sword in front of him as he approached her.

Her laughter added to the music playing through his head as he drew one of his many knives and set it on fire, tossing it in the air as he spun the sword. He enjoyed every movement, the pattern of their feet, the graceful, flowing ballet as they moved around one another, all the while lighting up the night sky with their fire dance.

Never once did he lose sight of Damon. As much as he enjoyed himself, he knew if Damon made one wrong move, that deadly knife, so beautiful flying through the air, would find its way directly into his friend’s heart.

W
hat am I supposed to do with him, Daciana?” Zev asked, jerking his thumb toward Damon. “If I give him to the council . . .”

“You can’t,” Daciana interrupted, kicking her brother in the shins with the toe of her boot as she paced by his chair.

Branislava had hastily prepared their verandah for company. The chairs were comfortable and the lighting muted. Mist blanketed the forest, obscuring the trees, cutting them off from the rest of the world. She was inside, moving around, and he smelled the aroma of coffee. How she could manage making coffee he had no idea, but she was taking her time so he guessed the first couple of tries hadn’t worked out so well.

“You know what they’ll do to him. They’ll think he’s a traitor and part of the conspiracy to kill them.” Daciana looked across the porch to Makoce. “What do you think?”

“Does anyone want to know what I think?” Damon asked.

Daciana bared her teeth at him. “No. Absolutely not. You just sit there quietly. Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused? We’re sworn to uphold the law and you’ve broken it a million times over. You’re lucky Zev didn’t kill you right there in that tree when you aimed a weapon at a wolf and then at Skyler.” She kicked him again just for good measure.

“I want to know who gave the order to come here and kill Skyler and Dimitri,” Makoce said. “If we can get that information, maybe we can figure out what’s really going on here.”

Damon leaned toward him. “Most members of the Sacred Circle believe the
Sange rau
can’t be tolerated. They’re the devil. They destroy entire packs. You know that.”

“How many have actually been in existence since the very first one our people encountered? And do you know who hunted it for several years, fought it and eventually killed it?” Zev asked. “Do the members of the Sacred Circle even have a clue who actually killed the
Sange rau
responsible for so much death and destruction?”

In the far corner of the verandah, Fen stirred uncomfortably. He’d stayed quiet. Now he wished Tatijana was with him instead of inside with her sister. Every now and then he felt her laughter brushing through the walls of his mind and knew the two Dragonseeker women were getting advice from Skyler on how to make coffee.

Dimitri and Skyler hadn’t arrived yet, but each time he touched Tatijana’s mind, she and Branislava were chattering with Skyler. The couple was on the way to join them, having put the newly converted female wolf in the ground to heal. She was safe beneath their home, resting in the bed they shared when sleeping the rejuvenating sleep of the Carpathians.

“I heard a Lycan by the name of Vakasin and his partner, Fenris Dalka, killed him,” Damon said. “It’s written in the sacred book.”

“Did the sacred book also include the information that when Vakasin returned to his pack, they turned on him and murdered him?” Zev asked.

“That’s impossible,” Damon denied. “They wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh but they did,” Zev said. “Vakasin spent a couple of years tracking the
Sange rau
, fighting with him and sustaining terrible wounds. He needed blood and his partner, Fenris Dalka, provided that blood. When Fen was wounded just as badly, Vakasin gave him the blood needed to sustain his life.”

“That’s a common practice in a partnership,” Damon said, clearly puzzled. “But it doesn’t explain why Vakasin’s own pack would turn on him after he spent a good portion of his life tracking down the infamous and nearly invincible
Sange rau
.”

“Not unless Vakasin was Lycan and Fenris was Carpathian,” Zev said in a low, carrying tone.

“Fenris Dalka is Lycan. His name is Lycan. He’s been around the packs for years. I’ve heard of him, although I’ve never met him,” Damon said.

“I came across the torn and dying bodies of men, women and children,” Fen said from the shadows of his corner. “At the time, I was Fen Tirunul, not Dalka. It was a sickening sight. I thought I hunted the vampire. I was certain he was vampire, but he killed too many, left behind such devastation. Each time I caught up with him, he nearly killed me, and I was experienced with much skill. He was fast and enormously strong.”

Damon whirled around, peering into the corner, trying to make out the man speaking.

“I came across Vakasin’s tracks many times and saw where he fought and was wounded over and over. He was tracking the undead as I was, only it was no mere vampire. We joined forces, hoping to have a better chance of killing it.”

“You? You’re Fenris Dalka?” Damon demanded. “
The
Fenris Dalka?”

“The vampire we were hunting had used Lycans for his blood so much that eventually he became what you refer to as
Sange rau
, or bad blood. It is bad blood, not because a Lycan mixed blood with a Carpathian, but because he mixed blood with a vampire. Vampires are wholly evil. There is a big difference between the undead and a Carpathian.”

Damon opened his mouth to reply, but Branislava and Tatijana returned with cups of coffee for Damon, Daciana and Makoce. Damon’s gaze immediately jumped to Branislava’s face as she handed him the hot mug.

“I have no idea if it’s any good,” she admitted. “It’s the first cup of coffee I’ve ever actually made.”

Tatijana handed a cup to Daciana. “Not the first, this is about the fifteenth, but we think this could actually be drinkable. We want the truth because we have to be able to make this for our guests.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Damon said, staring into Branislava’s emerald eyes.

As usual, Branislava wore a long dress, looking very feminine, the material clinging to her breasts and emphasizing her waist and flared hips. A ribbon was woven into her long braid, and she moved gracefully to Zev’s side, perching on the arm of his chair, drawing her legs up under her.

Zev immediately wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His wolf was close to the surface, much closer than he would have liked. Damon was just too attentive to her, his interest far too evident. His wolf prowled and snarled and raked, demanding the freedom to rid the world of a rival.

Branislava leaned into him, her lips brushing his ear.
Hello, my little Wolfie. I’ve missed you.
She breathed the words into his ear, yet no sound emerged. He heard her only in his mind.

Warm air sent fingers of arousal dancing through his body. The tension in his wolf eased instantly to be replaced by amusement—and satisfaction. His wolf no longer wanted anything to do with Damon, but Branislava was in danger of him eating her up.

Daciana and Mokoce drank their coffee gratefully. Damon took a sip of his and nearly choked. He turned away from Branislava, desperate to keep from spitting the brew out on the verandah.

Branislava’s soft laughter sounded intimate in Zev’s mind.
He really shouldn’t have come here to hurt the wolves, kill Dimitri and Skyler and upset you.

Evil woman.
His laughter joined hers.
I should have expected that you would exact some sort of revenge.
His laughter faded and he whipped his head around to look into her eyes.
You didn’t poison him, did you?

The temptation was there, not to kill him, just make him a little sick, but I resisted.
Branislava sounded just a little regretful. She even glanced at Damon speculatively under the sweep of her long lashes, as if at any moment she might change her mind and lace his drink with one of the millions of spells she knew.

Zev wanted to be alone with her. He needed to be. How was he going to talk to her, let her get to know him? Give her the chance to fall in love with him? He was falling hard for her. It seemed that every time they had a moment alone, something happened to steal it away from them.

You’re getting to know me,
Branislava said. Her arm tightened around his neck and she brushed her lips against his ear, sending that warm air rushing like liquid lava through his bloodstream.
You know more about me than anyone else other than Tatijana. I’m beginning to know you as well, especially your wolf. I rather like him. He thinks like me.

He never
ever
wants you to refer to him as Wolfie out loud. In Fen’s presence especially. Or Dimitri’s. Or Tatijana’s and Skyler’s, because I will never hear the end of it.

He had no idea why he didn’t just object strenuously to her use of that name, but somehow when she whispered
Wolfie
so intimately into his mind in her soft, sexy voice . . . He sighed. He might already have tumbled right into loving her.

“Did you understand what Fen just told you, Damon?” Daciana demanded, pinning her brother with angry eyes. They were nearly golden, a clear sign that she was furious with him. “Carpathians can turn vampire just as we can turn rogue. There’s a difference just as with us.”

Damon carefully set the cup of coffee on the wide railing and leaned one hip against the stone. “I’m aware there is a difference between a Carpathian and a vampire.”

“So use your head,” Zev snapped. “When the sacred code was written, the
Sange rau
had slaughtered our people, completely decimated our ranks. It made sense to keep the women at home and out of harm’s way. No one knew much about the demon who preyed on our people, and it was nearly impossible to kill, so they created the sacred code and it made sense to them.”

Damon rubbed at his temples again, a frown creeping across his face.

Branka, look at him. Every time I mention anything to do with why he’s here or the Sacred Circle or code, he gets a violent headache. I saw a small trickle of blood come from his nose earlier when he was trying to tell me who sent him here. He couldn’t remember and became very confused.

Branislava sat up a little straighter, her attention centering on Damon. The wolf in Zev didn’t like it, but he understood and it was far easier for Zev to control that dangerous streak of jealousy knowing why she was so focused on the Lycan.

“Damon?” Daciana prompted. “If you understand the difference between a Carpathian and a vampire, it isn’t that big of a leap to understand the difference between the
Sange rau
and the
Hän ku pesäk kaikak.
The
Hän ku pesäk kaikak
translates to ‘guardian of all,’ which is what Dimitri is.”

“And me,” Fen said. “I hunted the
Sange rau
with Vakasin, and we shared blood when wounded. Vakasin became Carpathian and Lycan and I became Lycan and Carpathian. Neither of us were vampire or rogue. We were stronger, yes, and faster, and in the end that is what enabled us to defeat the
Sange rau
.”

Damon nodded his head several times but he pressed his fingers to his eyes. A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his face.

Out of the mist, Dimitri and Skyler came, walking hand in hand up the stone steps to the verandah. Dimitri looked—lethal. Zev couldn’t blame him. Skyler had been targeted more than once by members of the Sacred Circle and they were relentless in the pursuit to kill her. Dimitri still bore the scars of the silver chains they’d wrapped him in from his forehead to his ankles.

Clearly, Dimitri gave off an aura of danger. Both Makoce and Daciana moved closer to Damon as if they might protect him from the
Hän ku pesäk kai
kak.

Dimitri ignored them and went straight to Branislava to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “Little sister, you were wonderful tonight. Thank you.”

She touched him with gentle fingers in reply. Skyler exchanged a kiss on the cheek with Branislava and then Tatijana.

“I’m sorry we’re late,” Dimitri said. “We were attending the wound on the wolf.” Again he didn’t look at Damon, but his low tone carried easily and deliberately.

Damon ducked his head, shame creeping into his expression. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing else I can say, other than I really mean it—I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“You’re shadowed,” Branislava said, her voice so low it was merely a thread of sound. “Mage-shadowed.”

Tatijana’s gasp was loud. She reached out to Fen, who took her hand instantly.

“I don’t know what that means,” Damon said.

Daciana and Makoce moved even closer to Damon, closing ranks on either side of him. “Please explain, Branislava,” Daciana said. “None of us understand.”

“He’s showing all the signs. Look at him, Tatijana. He’s confused when asked direct questions about who sent him here. If he tries too hard to remember he gets a severe headache. You do, don’t you, Damon?” she asked.

He nodded. “The headache is so bad I can barely breathe, let alone think.”

“When he pushes past the pain in an attempt to get answers to why he would go against his beliefs to murder a young woman or shoot and wound a wolf to use as bait, his brain reacts with an actual bleed. If you keep questioning him, trying to force him to remember, you’ll kill him,” Branislava stated with absolute conviction. “He is definitely mage-shadowed.”

Tatijana nodded. “We’ve seen it many, many times.”

There was a small silence. Fen whistled. Dimitri sank onto the porch swing, pulling Skyler with him. Daciana gripped her brother’s arm and just held on tight.

Damon shook his head. “I don’t know what that is, but there’s nothing wrong with me except a nasty headache.” He looked around at the somber faces. “There can’t be.”

His gaze dropped to his sister’s face. “There isn’t.”

Daciana slipped her arm around him as if she could brace him. “What is it, Bronnie?”

“How do you get rid of it?” Damon asked. “There must be a way. I want it out of my head.” He shuddered.

“Only a highly skilled mage can shadow a person without his consent or knowledge,” Branislava said. “By that I mean someone of Xavier’s caliber.”

“Xavier’s dead,” Tatijana declared quickly. “There’s no way he survived.”

Fen wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close. “Obviously this couldn’t be Xavier, my lady,” he assured softly. “Whoever has done this infiltrated the ranks of the Lycans long ago or Damon would have noticed a stranger immediately. Lycans don’t bring outsiders into their meetings.”

“You were there, you infiltrated,” Damon accused, as if he suspected Fen of corrupting his mind.