“You’re afraid Zev may be in trouble,” Mikhail guessed.
Fen nodded. “He’s a good man. His ability in a fight is unsurpassed by most hunters. He reminds me of Vakasin. I would hate to see him killed by his own people after the service he’s given them.”
“That makes it all the more important to talk with their council,” Mikhail said. “If they understand the difference between a vampire and Carpathian, we can convince them to look at the
Sange rau
in another light. We might distinguish the two by providing our own name for a Carpathian/Lycan cross.”
Fen sighed. “I wish you every success, but I can tell you the Lycans will fight you on the issue of the
Sange rau
. Not only do they have legitimate reasons to fear the mixture of Carpathian and Lycan blood, but you’re fighting centuries-old prejudices. There are fanatics who belong to a secret society that’s not very secret and they dedicate their lives to ferreting out the
Sange rau
and destroying them. They draw in every misfit there is and brainwash them. The
Sange rau
gives them a target for their fanatical hatred. Not of course that they ever actually find one, but every sin is blamed on them.”
“Surely cooler heads prevail on the council,” Mikhail said.
Fen shrugged. “I would hope so, but I’ve seen some of these fanatics. They’ve become a religion and they preach to the packs and they’re very persuasive. You have to remember, this has been going on for centuries, so the prejudice is well established.” He tried to find another way to explain it. “This belief of the
Sange rau
is at the very heart of their traditions. He represents everything evil. He is their demon, the epitome of every sinful thing.”
“Like a religion,” Gregori said.
Mikhail shot him a look. Gregori didn’t believe in any religion, where Mikhail was a devout worshipper.
“One that is very sacred to them and if not an actual spiritual belief, certainly one that is woven in the very fabric of their existence,” Fen said.
Mikhail let out his breath. “All right then. It’s good to know what we’re up against. Still, I believe we have to try. In the meantime, how do we fight them? How did Dimitri fight such a creature when our warriors sustained so much damage?”
“The Lycans and werewolves are pack fighters. Carpathians are used to fighting lone monsters.”
“Lately vampires have been banding together,” Gregori said. “Vampires, as unnatural as that sounds, actually put an army together to attack us. For a little practice run, they hit the De La Cruz compound in South America.”
“That must have been like stirring up a hornet’s nest. Of all the hunters in the world, I think I would prefer any other to come after me,” Fen said.
“It was personal,” Dimitri explained. “The Malinov brothers decided they were going to rule all Carpathians, and the De La Cruz brothers refused to join them.”
“You can see why we would want the Lycans as allies,” Mikhail said. “There are too few of us for an all-out war with any enemy.”
“If your warriors embrace the
Sange rau
and deliberately seek to become one, the Lycans will attack you,” Fen said. “The war would be endless, and no one would win in the end other than vampires. You have to go into a meeting knowing their prejudice is ingrained in them and will be difficult to change.”
Mikhail nodded. “I do believe we need to have our own name for those Carpathians and Lycans who have not turned vampire yet have mixed blood, something to indicate they are very different than the demon the Lycans believe them to be. That must become part of our vocabulary before I even meet with Zev. Which means we should come up with it immediately.”
“Do you really think changing a name is going to change their minds?” Vikirnoff asked. It was the first time he’d spoken, and Fen could tell by his tone that he didn’t like the situation at all. Had the situation not been so grave he would have smiled. Mikhail Dubrinsky fully understood the problem. He wasn’t going to throw his hands in the air and walk away, he was going to actually try for resolution. More than anyone there, other than Fen, it was Mikhail who knew what he was facing.
Many of his Carpathian warriors would be tempted to become
Sange rau
, just to make them better fighters. They would want to ignore the potential problems and they wouldn’t recognize that MaryAnn and Manolito and Fen and Tatijana as well as Dimitri would become experiments. They would be watched closely by both Lycans and Carpathians if Mikhail was successful in convincing the Lycan council that there was a difference. If not, what then?
Would the Lycans be willing to go to war to force the Carpathians to hand over those who were
Sange rau
? Sadly, Fen considered that a big possibility. Even if Mikhail convinced the council, that didn’t mean all the packs would agree, not over something that had been so ingrained in them. If the council agreed, their decision could very well cause a split among the packs.
“We need a lot more information before we allow any of our people to voluntarily choose this path,” Mikhail said. “I am counting on the three of you to supply us with that information.”
Fen nodded. “I have no choice but to follow the rogue pack if it moves. I have to hunt both Abel and Bardolf.”
“After seeing Abel’s return to his homeland, I believe he has one purpose in mind, and he won’t be going anywhere very soon,” Mikhail said. “He has returned in order to kill me. In the meantime, our hunters need to know how to fight Abel and Bardolf. You obviously trained Dimitri, who has known about this for some time.”
There was the smallest hint of a reprimand in Mikhail’s voice.
Dimitri shrugged, unrepentant. “The rogues never came near our homeland. I chose to set up sanctuaries for our wolf brethren knowing Fen needed a place to rest and heal at times. It gave me a chance to be with him. What he was, during those centuries, had no impact on our people.”
Gregori stirred, his silver eyes slashing at Dimitri, but Mikhail held up his hand to prevent Gregori from speaking.
“There has never been a question of Dimitri’s allegiance to our people,” Mikhail said. “Until this rogue pack came to our homeland, the Lycans avoided us.”
“True,” Gregori admitted, “but had we known of such a potential enemy, we could have been better prepared. As it is, many of our hunters were badly wounded.”
“They fought the pack, not the
Sange rau
,” Dimitri pointed out.
Why are you engaging in this argument with him?
Fen asked.
You know he is right. We both should have brought this enemy to light long before this. You were protecting me, Dimitri, we both know that.
Dimitri frowned. It was unlike him to take exception to someone pointing out the truth. It was Gregori’s job, above all else, to guard their prince. Why did he feel this unsettling restless, almost feral, resentment?
Your wolf is rising to protect you,
Fen explained.
Can you feel him? You’re in a place where our ancestors can judge us. He feels that and is urging you to leave.
Mikhail waved his hand and hundreds of candles along the walls sprang to life. Instantly the giant columns and crystals radiated muted colors. In the very center of the room was a circle of crystal columns. They were the shortest in the chamber, the middle one coming up to Mikhail’s shoulder. It was bloodred, formed of rich minerals and crystals. The tip was razor-sharp.
Mikhail spoke in their ancient language, the ritual words to call to their long gone ancestors. “Blood of our fathers—blood of our brothers—we seek your wisdom, your experience and your counsel. Join with your brother-warriors and lend us your guidance through the blood bond. We pledge to our people our unwavering loyalty, resolve in the face of adversity, compassion for those in need, strength and endurance through the centuries and above all, we will live with honor. Our blood connects us.”
Mikhail brought his palm down over the tip of the column so that it pierced his flesh and droplets of blood coated the top of the column. “Our blood mingles and calls to you. Heed our summons and join with us now.”
13
M
ikhail’s blood mingled with the long dead warriors. At once the crystals were illuminated, throwing off colors, deep emerald, rich ruby red swirling and banding throughout the room and over the walls. The display was much like the aurora borealis, many colors dancing through the chamber.
The swirling colors actually hurt Fen’s eyes. He was used to gray and white and sometimes the duller colors the wolf could distinguish until Tatijana had given him back the ability to see such things, but he wasn’t used to it yet. Still, the display was extraordinarily beautiful. Their native language was comforting to him and made him feel a part of his people after so many centuries of being alone.
Fen glanced at his brother. Dimitri was tall with broad shoulders and a face that could have been etched from stone. He was handsome, but aloof, a man apart. He had a lifemate he couldn’t claim. She had restored his emotions and color to his world, but that made hunting vampires all the more difficult. Now he had to contend with a wolf prowling inside him, battling for supremacy. Fen hoped that the sacred chamber would ease his suffering just a little.
The columns hummed, each with a different note, a perfect pitch so that the totems with faces appeared to be chanting musically. The colors swirling over them gave the faces life and expression. Fen had been careful not to swear allegiance to the prince. It was important to make certain he didn’t put Mikhail into the position of having to go to war to defend him. But . . . There was MaryAnn and Manolito. He knew Zacarias De La Cruz. Zacarias was pure hunter. He was pure Carpathian. Top of the food chain. Uncivilized. Untamed. The real thing. No one would touch his family without swift and brutal retaliation. He would be relentless, and he would never stop until he annihilated anyone or any group who targeted his family.
Fen knew Zacarias had found his lifemate, but he would bet his life that the eldest De La Cruz hadn’t changed much. Fen was a hunter. He knew no other way of life. Zacarias would be the same. That meant Mikhail would have to protect the couple from the Lycans.
If Tatijana were to become like him, and eventually she would, he wanted the Carpathian people to protect her. The same with his brother. Dimitri was well on his way to being
Sange
rau
. They had given one another blood in the past, over the last few centuries when they had hunted together, and now Dimitri was feeling the effects of his wolf.
Centuries ago his blood had been added to the column of warriors, when he had sworn his allegiance to a prince long dead. Adding his blood again would allow the warriors to weigh in on the decisions Mikhail would be making. They would know what it was like to think and feel as a
Sange rau
. He was not ashamed of who and what he was. He had lived as honorably as he could. He had engaged the enemies of Lycan, human and Carpathian every time he came across one.
“You do not have to swear allegiance,” Mikhail said. “But if you are still hesitant because you fear you will force a war between Lycan and Carpathian, I can assure you, I will never agree to indiscriminately hunt those Lycans referred to as
Sange rau
. Any Carpathian who has this extraordinary and difficult gift will be referred to as
Hän ku pesäk kaikak
, or
Paznicii de toate,
which translates in either language to
Guardians of all
, and I will not give up any of them.”
Mikhail’s voice was compelling. Mesmerizing even. He could persuade most anyone to do anything he wanted with his voice, yet he was careful to keep his tone neutral.
Hän ku pesäk kaikak,
Guardian of all. Mikhail Dubrinsky saw him that way, or he wouldn’t have bestowed such a name on what he was. Fen couldn’t believe what a difference such a small thing meant. He had been the hated
Sange rau
, and yet with just one small declaration, the prince had elevated him to Guardian of all.
Mikhail gave him and others like him purpose and status.
He was definitely born to lead,
Tatijana whispered into his mind.
Just changing the name changes the feel of who and what you are.
I can see why you gave him your allegiance.
Don’t do this for me.
I wouldn’t. This has to be a personal choice, and I choose to be part of his world.
Fen didn’t hesitate further. It had been too many centuries where he was a man without a country. His people were Carpathian no matter what his blood had become. He loved the Lycans and respected them, but his heart was here, with his people. He wanted to be part of the Carpathian community again. He wanted to ensure that Tatijana was always accepted.
He glanced at his brother. Dimitri was a respected warrior among the Carpathian people and held in great esteem. Whatever changed inside of Dimitri, whatever the wolf brought, it would benefit the Carpathian people, not take away from them; Fen was certain of that.
Fen stepped up to the bloodred crystal. He lowered his palm slowly. Before he ever reached that sharpened tip, he felt power emanating from the large crystalline column. He knew it was a calculated risk. If his ancestors rejected him, Mikhail and certainly Gregori might reject him as well, but it was a chance he felt he had to take.
He allowed the totem of minerals to pierce his flesh and draw his blood. At once his blood mingled with the blood of those who had gone before. His soul stretched and called to the warriors who had gone before him. He felt them, so many, their presence strong, ringing him, filling him, making him feel a part of a community that dated back to ancient times. The flood of camaraderie and belonging, of acceptance, was overwhelming.
Every cell in his body responded. He became aware of everything, the smallest detail. He heard the steady drip of water, drumming like a heartbeat deep within the chamber so that his own heartbeat took up that collective rhythm. The ebb and flow of blood in his veins, in the veins of those surrounding him, matched the endless flow of the ancient’s blood within the crystal. Deep below the chamber floor, hundreds of feet below the forest of giant columns, he felt the pool of magma feeding the heat throughout the labyrinth of multilevel caverns.