Dark Blood
Page 25
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Hunting was not the same as killing. Branislava was no soldier.
A wolf poked his head through the brush just a few meters from Rollo. Branislava inhaled sharply. This wasn’t one of Skyler and Dimitri’s pack, she could tell by the markings, but there were wolves local to the area and this one was too curious.
Zev swore softly under his breath. He knew exactly what they were doing now. The Lycans were aware that Dimitri was fond of wolves. They knew his reputation. These two are lying in wait for the others to drive the wolves this way. In doing so, they plan on drawing out Dimitri and Skyler.
A shot rang out. The wolf yipped and leapt into the air. Panting, eyes rolling in pain, it hit the ground hard. Several times it tried to rise, only to fall back again. When the wolf realized it was unable to walk, it tried to pull its body along the ground to the relative safety of the heavier brush.
A cold anger formed into hard knots in his belly. That’s sacrilegious, Zev hissed. No Lycan deliberately wounds a wolf. They’re our brethren.
These two don’t seem to mind in the least. Remember, they’re hunting Dimitri and Skyler, probably you and Fen as well. I think I can make my way to the wolf and try to stop the bleeding.
Branislava sounded confident. He couldn’t fault her courage. She waited for him to decide. If she went to help the wolf, and that in itself was dangerous as the wolf was wild and now injured, he would have to take out Ivaylo in the tree to protect her. That would leave Rollo only a few meters from her, armed and eager to kill.
I can do this, Zev. I want to do this, she insisted. Your great-grandmother hunted beside her lifemate and I intend to do the same. I have to start somewhere.
He nodded his head slowly and signaled her to go. She didn’t make the mistake of using Carpathian skills to shift into something small in order to make her way across the ground to the brush where the wolf was hiding. She remembered the two Lycans would be able to feel that energy immediately. Instead, Branislava used her toes and elbows to push herself backward, deeper into cover, into a narrow rabbit’s trail.
Not a single leaf, vine or branch moved as she made her way inch by inch through the tunnel toward the wolf. She was small, but he was shocked that she could use that passage without revealing herself to the enemy who was definitely poised and ready for anyone to show their face.
Zev didn’t particularly give a damn whether or not Ivaylo saw him coming. The man had a rifle in his hands and Branislava was approaching a wounded wolf. She would come face-to-face with the animal any moment and all hell could break lose.
Zev used his mixed blood speed, a blurring, impossible-to-see quickness, as he raced to the bottom of the tree and leapt high, his claws slashing the rifle out of the Lycan’s hands and tearing him out of the tree simultaneously.
As they both fell toward the ground, Zev twisted in midair, using Ivaylo’s body as a shield to keep his buddy from shooting at him. He knew Rollo’s attention would be on the desperate fight between Zev and Ivaylo and not Branislava and the wolf. They hit the ground together, Zev landing on his feet in a crouch and Ivaylo on his back in the dirt.
Zev used the enormous strength of his mixed blood to drive Ivaylo deep through several layers of vegetation and soil with one hand. The other held the silver dagger, a twister like a corkscrew in his fist. He slammed it deep through the chest, penetrating the heart and driving it all the way through, pinning Ivaylo to the ground itself. A shot rang out and then another. Rollo rapid fired, desperate to drive Zev away from his buddy. Bullets spit into the ground all around Zev. Bark splintered as the bullets tore into the tree trunk behind his head.
Zev rolled away from Ivaylo’s body toward cover. He caught a glimpse of Branislava and his heart leapt into his throat. She rose up behind Rollo like a bird of legends—the fiery phoenix. Her hair, in that long braid, swept back from her face crackled with fiery sparks as bloodred as any sunset. Her eyes had gone from deep emerald to green with red-orange flames roaring in the very center.
Rollo stood, the rifle to his shoulder, finger on the trigger, firing round after round. Behind him, Branislava’s diminutive figure took on a fiery glow, as if deep inside her was the fire dragon raging to emerge. She seemed to grow in stature, rising menacingly behind the Lycan. The moon caught the flash of silver in her hand.
She didn’t plunge the stake into his body from the back as he expected her to do. She leapt into the air, right over the top of him, both legs kicking down hard on the gun, slamming it right out of his hands. As she dropped down, she plunged the dagger straight through his heart. Her feet hit the ground and he stood there a moment swaying, his eyes wide with shock, both hands coming up to cup the hilt of the stake, as if he might find the strength to pull it out.
Branislava stepped back. Rollo toppled over at her feet, hands still clutching the silver blade through his heart. She raised her hand in the air and Zev tossed her his sword. She caught it in midair and came down in a slashing motion, using Carpathian strength to sever the head, all in one movement. Without stopping her swing, she continued to raise the sword and threw it back to him. Zev removed Ivaylo’s head as well.
“I think that was showing off, mon chaton féroce.”
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps, but I got the job done. Will you let Dimitri and Skyler know while I try to save the wolf? I had to choose between the two of you, wolf or crazy lifemate, and since Mikhail and Gregori think you’re so important, I thought I’d better choose saving you.”
He nodded, heat blossoming out of nowhere. With every step she took, even with her fluid glide over the vegetation, she crackled with fire. It was as if sparks leapt off her skin and hair into the air around her, although there was no real sound, only the illusion of flames burning from the inside out.
Dimitri, two down here. Can you make a move toward us?
We’re pinned down. They aren’t aware we’re here, but there are four of them and we’re caught in the middle. I can pick them off one by one, but I’m not certain I want to leave Skyler vulnerable.
Zev could understand Dimitri’s dilemma. He didn’t like leaving Branislava, and she had the knowledge of hundreds of warriors over centuries. Skyler was nineteen and had been converted only recently.
They’re using the local wolf pack to try to draw you out. We’ve got a wounded wolf here. Branka is attempting to save it.
We’re keeping our wolves with us. I warned the local wolf pack to stay away, but eventually they’ll come back to investigate. This is their territory.
A wolf poked his head through the brush just a few meters from Rollo. Branislava inhaled sharply. This wasn’t one of Skyler and Dimitri’s pack, she could tell by the markings, but there were wolves local to the area and this one was too curious.
Zev swore softly under his breath. He knew exactly what they were doing now. The Lycans were aware that Dimitri was fond of wolves. They knew his reputation. These two are lying in wait for the others to drive the wolves this way. In doing so, they plan on drawing out Dimitri and Skyler.
A shot rang out. The wolf yipped and leapt into the air. Panting, eyes rolling in pain, it hit the ground hard. Several times it tried to rise, only to fall back again. When the wolf realized it was unable to walk, it tried to pull its body along the ground to the relative safety of the heavier brush.
A cold anger formed into hard knots in his belly. That’s sacrilegious, Zev hissed. No Lycan deliberately wounds a wolf. They’re our brethren.
These two don’t seem to mind in the least. Remember, they’re hunting Dimitri and Skyler, probably you and Fen as well. I think I can make my way to the wolf and try to stop the bleeding.
Branislava sounded confident. He couldn’t fault her courage. She waited for him to decide. If she went to help the wolf, and that in itself was dangerous as the wolf was wild and now injured, he would have to take out Ivaylo in the tree to protect her. That would leave Rollo only a few meters from her, armed and eager to kill.
I can do this, Zev. I want to do this, she insisted. Your great-grandmother hunted beside her lifemate and I intend to do the same. I have to start somewhere.
He nodded his head slowly and signaled her to go. She didn’t make the mistake of using Carpathian skills to shift into something small in order to make her way across the ground to the brush where the wolf was hiding. She remembered the two Lycans would be able to feel that energy immediately. Instead, Branislava used her toes and elbows to push herself backward, deeper into cover, into a narrow rabbit’s trail.
Not a single leaf, vine or branch moved as she made her way inch by inch through the tunnel toward the wolf. She was small, but he was shocked that she could use that passage without revealing herself to the enemy who was definitely poised and ready for anyone to show their face.
Zev didn’t particularly give a damn whether or not Ivaylo saw him coming. The man had a rifle in his hands and Branislava was approaching a wounded wolf. She would come face-to-face with the animal any moment and all hell could break lose.
Zev used his mixed blood speed, a blurring, impossible-to-see quickness, as he raced to the bottom of the tree and leapt high, his claws slashing the rifle out of the Lycan’s hands and tearing him out of the tree simultaneously.
As they both fell toward the ground, Zev twisted in midair, using Ivaylo’s body as a shield to keep his buddy from shooting at him. He knew Rollo’s attention would be on the desperate fight between Zev and Ivaylo and not Branislava and the wolf. They hit the ground together, Zev landing on his feet in a crouch and Ivaylo on his back in the dirt.
Zev used the enormous strength of his mixed blood to drive Ivaylo deep through several layers of vegetation and soil with one hand. The other held the silver dagger, a twister like a corkscrew in his fist. He slammed it deep through the chest, penetrating the heart and driving it all the way through, pinning Ivaylo to the ground itself. A shot rang out and then another. Rollo rapid fired, desperate to drive Zev away from his buddy. Bullets spit into the ground all around Zev. Bark splintered as the bullets tore into the tree trunk behind his head.
Zev rolled away from Ivaylo’s body toward cover. He caught a glimpse of Branislava and his heart leapt into his throat. She rose up behind Rollo like a bird of legends—the fiery phoenix. Her hair, in that long braid, swept back from her face crackled with fiery sparks as bloodred as any sunset. Her eyes had gone from deep emerald to green with red-orange flames roaring in the very center.
Rollo stood, the rifle to his shoulder, finger on the trigger, firing round after round. Behind him, Branislava’s diminutive figure took on a fiery glow, as if deep inside her was the fire dragon raging to emerge. She seemed to grow in stature, rising menacingly behind the Lycan. The moon caught the flash of silver in her hand.
She didn’t plunge the stake into his body from the back as he expected her to do. She leapt into the air, right over the top of him, both legs kicking down hard on the gun, slamming it right out of his hands. As she dropped down, she plunged the dagger straight through his heart. Her feet hit the ground and he stood there a moment swaying, his eyes wide with shock, both hands coming up to cup the hilt of the stake, as if he might find the strength to pull it out.
Branislava stepped back. Rollo toppled over at her feet, hands still clutching the silver blade through his heart. She raised her hand in the air and Zev tossed her his sword. She caught it in midair and came down in a slashing motion, using Carpathian strength to sever the head, all in one movement. Without stopping her swing, she continued to raise the sword and threw it back to him. Zev removed Ivaylo’s head as well.
“I think that was showing off, mon chaton féroce.”
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “Perhaps, but I got the job done. Will you let Dimitri and Skyler know while I try to save the wolf? I had to choose between the two of you, wolf or crazy lifemate, and since Mikhail and Gregori think you’re so important, I thought I’d better choose saving you.”
He nodded, heat blossoming out of nowhere. With every step she took, even with her fluid glide over the vegetation, she crackled with fire. It was as if sparks leapt off her skin and hair into the air around her, although there was no real sound, only the illusion of flames burning from the inside out.
Dimitri, two down here. Can you make a move toward us?
We’re pinned down. They aren’t aware we’re here, but there are four of them and we’re caught in the middle. I can pick them off one by one, but I’m not certain I want to leave Skyler vulnerable.
Zev could understand Dimitri’s dilemma. He didn’t like leaving Branislava, and she had the knowledge of hundreds of warriors over centuries. Skyler was nineteen and had been converted only recently.
They’re using the local wolf pack to try to draw you out. We’ve got a wounded wolf here. Branka is attempting to save it.
We’re keeping our wolves with us. I warned the local wolf pack to stay away, but eventually they’ll come back to investigate. This is their territory.
