Dark Lycan (39 page)

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Mikhail said. “I’ve been turning it over and over and it has occurred to me that there is another master somewhere, one we haven’t discovered. One with an agenda that might be the demise of both our species.”

Zev was an intelligent man and saw the reasoning. “I can get word to the council and ask if they would be willing to meet with you.”

“If they agree, I’ll call in my warriors for their protection as well,” Mikhail said. “Hopefully you can stick around to help us ensure their safety.”

Zev nodded. “First we have to destroy this pack. We’ve been picking them off, but I’d like to really get an idea of their numbers. They’ve broken the pack in smaller units to help hide them from us.”

“We can help with that,” Mikhail said. “We can use the sky to see their numbers.”

“That would be extremely helpful,” Zev said. “This is a big area with so many places to hide, and you know it where we don’t. If they aren’t aware that you’ve seen them, and we get their locations, we can destroy them.”

“I don’t think,” Fen contributed, “even if we destroy their enormous pack, that Bardolf and Abel will leave without another attempt at Mikhail. They want him dead.”

“Then we have to come up with a battle plan,” Gregori said simultaneously with Zev.

The two men looked at one another, each with a grim smile.

“I don’t want to take up more of your time tonight,” Mikhail said. “I’d like you to have fun and meet some of my people. We can plan our battle this next rising.” He stood and once again shook Zev’s hand.

“I’ll get word to the council,” Zev promised. He looked around the room at his scattered pack. They were definitely enjoying themselves, talking animatedly with the Carpathians surrounding them, making them the center of attention, listening to their every story. “Thank you for this, Mikhail, my pack needed a little downtime.”

Mikhail gave a small old-world bow from the waist and moved away with Jacques and Gregori, leaving Fen and Zev alone.

“He’s cool under fire,” Zev said. “I’ve got to give him that. With two
Sange rau
after him, he’s in mortal danger, and he knows it.”

“We managed to fight one off, but the other got through the safeguards and went right for him. He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t flinch. He just watched to see how fast they were and how good they were at unraveling the safeguards set in place,” Fen said. “We were lucky, but next time we’ll have to be better prepared.”

“Do you think there is another masterminding—” Zev broke off in midsentence, looking over Fen’s shoulder.

For a moment Zev looked as if he’d been hit over the head with a club. Those eyes, so empty and cold before, lit up as if with a flame. The light transformed the hunter’s entire face. His edgy, tough features softened a little, leaving him younger and more approachable.

“She’s stunning. Who is she?”

Fen turned his head as a hush fell over the room. Branislava stood at the entrance. Her thick fiery red hair fell to her waist in soft waves framing her face. Her skin was pale, but seemed to glow as if a furnace burned inside her and there was no containing the scorching heat. Her eyes—Dragonseeker eyes—dazzled. Her lashes were long and feathery, shading her emerald eyes. She looked as if two gemstones had been pressed into her face and a fire had been lit behind them so the brilliance shone at all times.

She wore a vintage gown reminiscent of days gone by. The style suited her. The sleeves were long and the bodice clung to her full breasts and narrow rib cage, dropping to her small waist and then flared over her hips so that the full skirt fell to the floor.

Fen drew in a breath and looked over at Tatijana. The joy on her face and in her heart swamped him so that for a moment he experienced the overwhelming emotion with her. Tatijana rushed over to her sister and they embraced one another tightly.

“That is Branislava, Tatijana’s sister. She’s been . . . recovering. We didn’t expect her tonight, although we’d hoped she could come.”

“She’s truly beautiful,” Zev reiterated.

“Don’t let her looks deceive you,” Fen warned. “She’s Carpathian, from a very powerful lineage, and she is a warrior born and bred.”

Zev nodded his head. “She moves like water flowing over rock, so fluid and graceful,” he said. “I have to meet her, Fen.” He looked over his shoulder at his pack. Some were eating. A couple of the hunters were drinking, and Daciana danced with a Carpathian male. “Now, Fen,” he added urgently. “I want to meet her now.”

Zev wishes to meet Bronnie, Tatijana. I know she came here for you, to make certain you were all right, and she’s terribly shy around so many people, but would it be okay to bring him over?

We’re trying to make a good impression on the Lycans,
Tatijana said,
so I guess we can hardly refuse. I’ll let Bronnie know you’re bringing him over.

I heard,
Branislava said.
I’m not that fragile. Truly.
She turned her head and looked over at them.

“Sure,” Fen said. “Let’s go before everyone swamps her. She’ll be surrounded in another minute.”

Zev let out his breath. “I’m not exactly suave with the ladies.”

“That’s just as well. Look around you. Every one of those men will be defending her if they think you’re a player. This is a tight-knit group.”

“I’ll chance it,” Zev said, once more pulling off his gloves and tucking them inside his jacket pocket. “That’s a woman worth getting killed over.”

Fen knew both Branislava and Tatijana heard the whispered remark. Their hearing was far too acute even with the wealth of conversations and music around them. Tatijana’s sudden grin gave them away as they exchanged a quick telling look.

“Bronnie,” Fen greeted.

She turned fully to face him. Fen took her into his arms, grateful that she had come for Tatijana. He hugged her close. “It’s so wonderful to see you like this. You made the evening complete for Tatijana. She really wanted you with her.”

“I’m happy to come,” Branislava said. “I could feel her happiness, Fen.”

Be careful, Bronnie. Zev is Lycan and must believe Fen is as well,
Tatijana cautioned.

I may have been recouping beneath the earth, sister, but I can assure you, I have a good grasp on what these people would do to my brother-kin should they find out what he is.

Fen wanted to smile at the fierceness in Branislava’s tone. She was ready for combat should anyone attack her sister’s lifemate. Yet she turned to Zev with a smile that could melt entire glaciers.

“Branislava, this is my friend, Zev,” Fen introduced them. “He’s an elite hunter for the Lycans.”

“How lovely to meet you,” Bronnie said, extending her hand. “Any friend of Fen’s is certainly welcome here.”

Zev took her fingers in his hand and gallantly lifted them to the warmth of his mouth. Lycan sense of smell was very acute and Branislava’s enticing scent was so alluring he found himself entranced by her. Nearly hypnotized. It shocked him that he could be so completely mesmerized when he had been shaped and trained from the time he was a child to be a killer.

He’d been taught a woman could be a warm body or comfort, but was of little use to his role as a hunter. His entire focus was on hunting and destroying the threats to the Lycans.

“I’m honored to meet you,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Staring into those deep pools of emerald green, he felt himself falling. A man could get lost there. He knew better than to spend one more moment in her company, but he couldn’t resist that sensual allure. The feel of her bare skin, even if it was her fingers, set his heart racing. Her skin was satin-soft, but so warm in the coolness of the evening it shocked him. She seemed to burn from the inside out, which only made him wonder just how hot she would burn for a man she loved.

“I am not the most elegant of dancers, but I would love to dance with you,” he said.

The words came out of their own accord. Frankly, he was shocked at the invitation. He certainly hadn’t come over to her with the idea of asking her to dance. He’d make a fool of himself the moment he stepped out on the dance floor, but the thought of holding her in his arms, her body close to his, was more than he could resist.

“I would love that,” she answered, with an elegant nod of her head. “But I must warn you, sir, I do not dance either. I have never danced.”

You don’t have to do that,
Fen said.
You’re a great ambassador for the Carpathians, but you aren’t required to dance with him.

I think I will enjoy it,
Branislava admitted, astonished.

She really does want to do this, Fen,
Tatijana added. She seemed as surprised as her sister.

“Never?” Zev’s eyebrow shot up.

What the hell was wrong with the Carpathian males? He couldn’t imagine why this woman was unattached. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to let go of her hand. Afraid she might change her mind, he led her to the dance floor. The moment he wrapped his arm around her waist and brought her in close to him, he knew he was lost.

She fit into him perfectly, melting into his body, so that when they moved they appeared to be one body, not two. She matched his steps intuitively, as if they had been dancing forever together. Her hair was silk against his face, strands catching in the dark shadow along his jaw, tangling them together, and he found he wanted them to stay like that. He swore, even the beat of his heart matched hers.

He knew he shouldn’t hold her so close, or so possessively, but he felt possessive of her. He didn’t want the music to ever end. His life was one of battles, of killing, cold nights out in the open, horrendous wounds, blood and death. It wasn’t holding a beautiful woman in his arms, drifting around the dance floor in a mixture of desire and pleasure.

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance,” he murmured against her ear. Even her little shell-like ear was beautiful. He had it bad, whatever “it” was. He wanted to sweep the hair off her neck and press featherlight kisses all over her soft skin.

“You apparently are a very good leader,” she whispered. “You’re so very easy to follow.”

Her voice wrapped him in intimacy, making him forget for a moment that they were not alone and other couples—including Tatijana and Fen—danced on the same small dance floor. Branislava was lethal and he had no defense against her. If it was possible for a Lycan to fall for a Carpathian, he was well on his way, and it was forbidden, especially for an elite hunter.

He pulled her closer until her body imprinted on his
.
Hot. So hot. She burned through his clothes—his skin—every muscle in his body until she was branded in his very bones. No, deeper still. Like molten lava she flowed into him through his pores, until her brand found his heart and then his soul. Until he belonged to her. Body. Heart. Mind. And his lost soul.

The music ended and his heart nearly stopped. She smiled up at him and he had no choice but to wrap his arm around her waist and escort her from the floor, back to the corner where he’d first found her talking to her sister. The far corner. Farthest from where the Lycans held casual conversations with the Carpathians.

“Thank you, Branislava,” he said. “You certainly can cast a spell.”

She blinked several times and he wondered if he’d said something wrong.

He doesn’t know about our mage background, Bronnie,
Tatijana hastily explained.
He means he finds you very attractive.

Strangely, I find him very attractive.

“I really enjoyed dancing with you,” Branislava admitted. “Tatijana told me it was like floating. I could hear the music right through my body.”

And his heart, matching the rhythm of mine, Tatijana,
she added in wonder.

Branislava searched his face. It was a strong face. Lines etched deep, telling her he’d seen war. His eyes fascinated her. They were wolf eyes, pure and simple. They showed his piercing intelligence. There was no disguising the predator in him. When he locked onto his prey he would be merciless and unswerving. Right now, in the room with Carpathian hunters only feet away, those eyes were wholly focused on her.

She should have been frightened, but she was more intrigued. She might be shy around people—she’d never been around them before—but she would defend herself and her family with everything she was, every weapon in her arsenal.

“You’re a beautiful dancer,” Zev said. “I hope we get the chance to do this again soon.”

“Me, too,” Branislava said, meaning it.

She slipped away from him, back to her sister. At once the Carpathians seem to close ranks around her. Zev observed her for a few minutes, all too aware Fen was watching him.

“I understand now, why you have chosen to become friends with these people,” Zev said with a sigh. “Tatijana and her sister are beautiful women.”

“Yes they are,” Fen agreed.

“You know it is forbidden. We are to avoid the Carpathian people just for this reason. We can’t take the chance of falling in love with one.”

Fen not only heard the reluctance in Zev’s voice, but felt it as well. “Carpathian men and women don’t have the luxury of falling in love until they meet their lifemate,” he explained. “A Lycan might fall in love with a Carpathian, but he or she couldn’t or wouldn’t reciprocate. There is only one.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“I’ve learned that they are literally two halves of the same whole. The soul of the male contains the darkness needed and the soul of the female the light. The ritual binding words are imprinted on the male before birth. When he finds the woman with the other half of his soul, he recognizes her, says the words and they are bound. There are no others. If one dies the other follows.”

“So even if it wasn’t forbidden, you’re saying she’s out of reach,” Zev said with real regret. “She’s definitely out of my league.” He was afraid she’d taken his heart and soul away with her, but then one didn’t need those things to kill.

“Let’s get you something to drink. You’re here to have fun.” Fen clapped him on the shoulder and led him back to the rest of the pack and the Carpathians there.