Dark Blood (39 page)

Smoke rose in the air, the purifying leaves burning white and giving off the sweet odor of jasmine in preparation for the burning of the bodies. Arno and Arnau lay within the flowers and branches of the funeral pyre, high up where their spirits would have an easy ascension.

Daciana, Makoce and Lykaon joined him.

“We’re going to be attacked. Rolf and the others won’t listen to anything I say. They’re insisting on completing the ceremony. Be ready. Stay close to the council members. Any other guards you really trust, warn, and get them to surround the council.”

They didn’t ask questions. He’d known they wouldn’t. He was alpha of their pack and his word was law. They nodded and moved into the crowd surrounding the ceremonial pyre.

Branislava reached out to him, settling her fingers around his wrist as he came up to her. “He’s here, Zev,” she whispered, leaning into him. “I feel his presence.”

Just her light touch made him feel as if he had a home. A haven. She had a way of looking at him that made the world right, even when everything around them seemed to be falling apart.

“We knew he would come, Branka, if for no other purpose than to see the grief his handiwork caused. We knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself.”

Branislava looked around at the precautions and intricate safeguards the Carpathians had used to protect the Lycans as they gathered for the service. “He’s here for a purpose. Not just to thumb his nose and prove his superiority. I know you feel it, too. And now Dimitri has found the mist. It will come creeping out of the forest surrounding us, and there are foul things he could conjure up that can kill.”

“You know him better than anyone else, Branislava. You’ve done a study of these three mages for centuries when no one else knew of their existence. You’re our authority. Tell me what you think he’s going to do.”

He had faith in her ability to defeat Xaviero. She was every bit as skilled and she had the advantage. She’d seen him cast, knew his every spell, where he had never considered her a threat and hadn’t known the three mages were educating a very bright pupil.
She
just had to believe in herself. He knew she had to overcome the terror instilled in her from her birth.

Branislava chewed nervously on her lower lip. “He’ll want to get as close to the funeral pyre as possible. He would most likely want to give the talk . . .” She trailed off, her eyes meeting Zev’s. She shook her head hastily. “But he wouldn’t dare.”

“It’s
exactly
what he’d do,” Zev countered. “Can you imagine how smug he would be if he got away with it? Standing in front of Carpathian and Lycan alike and giving what essentially would be a eulogy for the two men he murdered? He wouldn’t need to exact revenge—that alone would reaffirm his superiority.”

Dimitri, how fast is the fog moving toward us?
It was imperative to know Xaviero’s timetable. Zev needed to clear out the civilians and prepare the available warriors for battle.

It’s building very slowly. And thick. And very, very foul.

Branislava glanced nervously toward the surrounding forest.
That’s not good. I don’t like that insects are pouring out of the ground, either. He’s up to something, something much deadlier than we first thought.

The fog started about a foot off the ground and is now winding up to the top of the trees like thick snakes,
Skyler added.

Stay away from it,
Branislava advised.
Don’t let it touch your skin. And whatever you do, don’t get inside of it.

I see glowing eyes. Red. Yellow. And we’re beginning to hear voices—or I am,
Dimitri said.
Skyler feels things moving, but she hasn’t heard anything yet.

Zev’s heart seemed to skip a beat.
His army. The Sange rau. We knew he was building an army. Dimitri can feel them because he’s mixed blood as well. Xaviero has an army of Sange rau and hellhounds waiting to annihilate us.

But if that were the case, why aren’t they here already?
Branislava asked.
Why send the fog. We’re in the middle of a clearing.

Zev frowned.
He’s holding them back. To what purpose?
he mused aloud, inviting the others to speculate.
Why is he taking the chance that we might discover them before he unleashes them on us?

“Who from the Sacred Circle was scheduled to give a talk?” Branislava asked, whipping around to look toward the funeral pyre.

“Roberto Hans,” Zev answered slowly, avoiding looking too hard at the Lycan considered one of the greatest leaders of the Sacred Circle. “He’s speaking now.”

Zev recognized him as one of the more prominent members of the Sacred Circle. Roberto Hans had been speaking with Rolf just moments earlier. The face and body appeared to be Roberto’s, along with the deep voice, yet to Zev’s trained ear, there was a lack of depth to the sound. Something missing. As if the voice was a recording and not the real thing.

There was no way to prove he was right, but still, he was certain. Zev recalled that Roberto and the Lycan known as Rannalufr had been good friends. Had Xaviero, disguised as Rannalufr, approached Roberto just to talk about the death of their old friend Arno, Roberto would have allowed him in without hesitation.

Branislava watched Zev move away, back toward the Lycans crowded so closely around the funeral pyre. She didn’t like that they were so close to Xaviero—if that was the High Mage—and she was fairly certain it was. She didn’t want to keep staring at him, afraid he would realize they were on to him. She moved to get into a better position to aid Zev when a peculiar odor drifted from the crowd, just the faintest of smells, but she caught it and stiffened, stopping instantly.

Zev.
Branislava’s voice quivered, but she couldn’t help it. That thought of both mages so close in such a large crowd was utterly terrifying.
I think both of them are here. Xayvion as well as Xaviero. I caught a whiff of incense, a powerful combination of herbs that are used to send a spirit along on his journey. Just a small passing scent, but Xayvion favored spells where he used incense to aid him. Whatever they’re doing, I think they plan to do it right here.

Perhaps someone else used this incense in the hopes of sending Arno and Arnau on a safe journey.

It wasn’t just that, Zev. It was a combination of scents. Xavier was using it in the laboratory when he stabbed Xaviero.
Her heart began to pound as she pulled up the memory.
There was a thick fog in the lab that night. I couldn’t see Xaviero’s body once it fell to the floor. I saw Xavier grab his feet and pull him out of the lab, but I couldn’t see his actual body because the mist was too thick, lying about a foot above the floor.

Branka, listen to me. You can do this. Figure this out. No matter what happens, you have to stay focused on what you believe is Xaviero’s ultimate goal.

She could see Zev working his way toward the front and Fen on the other side of the crowd doing the same thing. Zev’s calm voice always steadied her. He had a way of looking and speaking with such a composed, sure manner, that everything in her settled. Not this time. This time she was fairly certain she knew what Xaviero and Xayvion were up to.

They are going to trade the spirit of the living for the spirit of the dead. That’s why I smelled the combination of incenses on Xayvion as he moved through the crowd. They have a live body here, one they want to put Xavier’s spirit into. They need deaths, souls and spirits wailing. The more the better. They intend to open the gates of hell.

There was a small silence. She could feel Zev around her. In her mind. As always, he was as steady as a rock. He wasn’t in a panic as she was. Perhaps because he didn’t know how bad it was going to get.

Dimitri, Skyler, Ivory and Razvan burst from the forest, running toward them, drawing her attention. Directly behind them, a mottled snake slithered up a particularly large tree. When it was halfway up the trunk, it reared back and struck the tree, sinking its teeth deep. Color ran up the bark, changing it from the normal darkish gray to a sickly white. The color spread to the branches and then to the leaves.

Branislava gasped and turned to look behind her. Another tree directly across from the first one, on the other side of the clearing, was lit up in the same ghostly way. She knew without looking that there would be one tree directly across from the ceremonial pyre and two more lit above it, forming an inverted pentagram.

Several Lycans began to turn their heads away from the funeral pyre, uneasy, feeling the evil dread spreading throughout the clearing. The elite hunters moved in closer to better protect the council members.
They’ve started, Zev. You have to get to their sacrificial victim. He’ll be somewhere close to the pyre. They’ll want his body, so they’ll have to drive his spirit out at the precise moment the gates open so they can make the exchange. They’ll slay as many as possible to accomplish their goal.

Fog leaked through the trees into the opening surrounding the clearing, a thick yellowish-gray vapor. Tentacles swirled up the trees, climbing toward the sky. The ground fogbank was high, a good six feet or more, like a great wall moving toward them, although still slow. Branislava couldn’t help herself. She looked toward the speaker standing on the raised podium. His eyes met hers. She would recognize that malevolent, evil stare anywhere. Xaviero. He threw back his hood, extending his arms wide as if in supplication, just as Zev fired a shot at him.

The bullet flew true, speeding directly at Xaviero’s forehead, right between his eyes. Xaviero smiled, a malicious, vile, spiteful promise of pure glee.

In her shared mind with Zev, Branislava screamed in alarm.
Zev, duck, hit the ground.
She tore her gaze from Xaviero’s and frantically chanted a protection spell.

That made of lead,

Fired to kill,

I remove your force,

Now shall you be stilled.

The bullet hit some kind of barrier, stopping just between Xaviero’s eyes, hovering there for a moment and then reversing, to streak through the air straight at the shooter. Zev hit the ground and rolled, the bullet obeying Branislava’s order at the last moment, falling harmlessly to earth.

Xaviero saluted her with a small bow, his smile widening until he looked almost grotesque, an unholy monster from another realm. She realized he’d spent time in the very place Xavier was trapped. The three brothers had prepared for the inevitable moment when one of them was killed.

Zev, find his sacrifice. Do it fast, all hell’s about to break loose.
She needed help fast.
No matter what happens, keep them off of us. Tatijana, Skyler, Ivory. I need you now. We’re in the battle of our lives. Xaviero and Xayvion will strike at us. We’re the only ones able to stop them. You have to protect us. We’ll need time to counter their spells.

The spell of the inverted pentagram had closed the clearing off from all help. She was certain no one could get in and no one could get out. The fog winding up the trees and into the sky, coming together in a dense bank above their heads, was all about preventing Carpathians from using storms, or taking to the skies.

The three brothers had a long time to perfect their ambush and they knew how each species fought. No doubt they had prepared for every eventuality. Zev had been correct in saying three days was too long to give the mages—not when they’d been preparing for centuries.

The fogbank crept out of the forest, surrounding the clearing like a great army. She could see eyes glowing, both red and yellow.

Hellhounds, Zev. He’s got hellhounds coming at us.

They emerged out of the fog. Snarling. Slobbering. Dripping great strings of venom from their muzzles. Lips were drawn back, revealing large razor-sharp teeth. Their heads were massive and many of them had two heads. One had three. Their bodies were the size of ponies, thick and roped with muscle. Black fur appeared spiked and bristling, as if one could get seriously wounded touching them. As they approached slowly, the ground beneath them blackened, the grass withering and curling under each step. Behind each of the hounds was a man, or rather a creature, half man, half wolf.

Sange rau.
Branislava breathed the name into his mind.

This was the Lycans’ worst nightmare—an army of
Sange rau
—mixed bloods, faster, stronger and more intelligent than everyone else.

Take down the barriers he’s built,
Zev said.
Don’t think about anything else. We’re prepared for hellhounds. We knew he had an army of Sange rau.

His voice calmed her as it always did. He was matter-of-fact. There was no panic in him, no terror. She realized it was the trait that others relied on as well. Zev could truly face danger and not flinch. His mind was always working, always finding a way.

Someone screamed, a high-pitched voice of terror. Branislava swiveled around. The ground erupted, first with insects and right behind them, mutated red-striped toads with serrated teeth. Venom dripped down their chins. They snapped at the insects and as people shifted, the movement attracted their attention.

Toads began hopping onto the nearest warm body and injecting a paralyzing venom into their victim as quickly as possible. Each time a toad sank its teeth into its prey, it emitted a loud croak, calling to the others. More leapt at the hapless targets, attaching themselves on calves and thighs, ripping away clothing to reach the flesh beneath. The accumulated poison brought their quarry crashing to the ground fairly quickly.

The moment their prey went down, dozens leapt on them, swarming over the top of them like in some macabre horror movie. Blood ran into the ground beneath them, but most of the victims were so weighed down by the toads, she couldn’t see them, just the moving mounds of toads. To her shock, the toads appeared to be growing, or they were bloated from the repulsive feast.

Other Lycans tried to help their fallen friends, kicking at the slavering creatures and trying to yank up the paralyzed victims. Those injected with the toad venom could only stare up at their comrades, unable to move or talk or even scream as the toads began to devour them.