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“Yes,” she answered reluctantly. “That’s how it works.”
“Is it possible for you to instruct us telepathically?” Zev asked. “You look at his work and then tell us how to unravel it? I’m merged with you, won’t I be able to see what needs to be done when you are figuring it out?”
Branislava shook her head. “To pit yourself against a High Mage spell is too dangerous without knowing what you’re doing. It’s very complicated and detailed, layers upon layers. Anything this dangerous can’t be managed that way, Zev, but thank you. I know you’re just trying to spare me his presence. Arno will have told him about me. He saw me question Lyall, and no doubt, Xaviero already knows who I am. There isn’t any point in trying to hide from him.”
Zev stiffened, his arm tightening around her. “If he knows you, his trap will be very specific to you, won’t it?”
She shrugged. “That would make sense, but I think more likely, it will be specific to you. Perhaps not the first one, the first snare is set to use Arno’s body to lure another victim into the room. If Skyler hadn’t been the one to find the body, Xaviero may have done just that. You almost entered the room. He would have triumphed right then.”
Mikhail appeared in the hallway behind Gregori. “Arno is dead.” It was more a statement than a question. The question was for Gregori, asking what happened.
I thought you were going to keep him away from here, Zev said.
Gregori shook his head and gestured to the runes written in blood covering the walls and ceiling of the room. “He had a visitor. A mage can slip past guards during the day.”
There is no controlling Mikhail. He is responsible for the Lycan council and carries that weight heavily on his shoulders. I can only protect him, not control him, Gregori replied to Zev.
I do not envy you your job, Zev said to Gregori.
Gregori looked into the room and the bloody symbols covering the walls. At this moment, I do not envy yours.
“Who specifically was assigned to protect him?” Mikhail asked.
Branislava’s gaze jumped to the prince with sudden apprehension. She could feel the change in Zev. His face remained expressionless, but deep inside, there was a small ripple of unease. She hadn’t considered who might have been guarding Arno and what happened to him—or that the Lycan would be someone close to Zev.
“One of my best,” Zev answered slowly. “Arnau. And he’s Arno’s son. He’s an elite hunter and a member of my pack. His room is right there.” He indicated the door just to the left of Arno’s sleeping quarters.
Gregori stepped to one side of the door and waved his hand to the prince, as if shooing him aside. Branislava would have laughed at the gesture if the tension wasn’t so high. The prince didn’t move a step. Gregori thrust his hand toward the door and it sprang wide open.
Arnau leapt through the open space, already half man, half wolf, his muzzle dripping with saliva, madness in his red-rimmed eyes. He had one target and he landed squarely on her, driving Branislava to the floor, his claws tearing at her stomach and his teeth clamping down around her left shoulder, up high, toward her neck.
Zev reacted first, hurling through the air at a blurring speed, both boots hitting Arnau squarely in the ribs, driving the Lycan off of Branislava. The Lycan rolled and came back to his feet, his gaze targeting Bronnie. Clearly for him, there was no one else in the narrow hallway. He made no sound, just attacked a second time, propelling himself forward, closing the distance between them fast.
Mikhail stepped in front of Branislava, a silver stake in his fist. The Lycan used his claws to go up and over the prince, raking flesh from his chest and shoulders as he whipped past him. Gregori swore and yanked Mikhail back and away from the mage-maddened Lycan.
Arnau hit Zev squarely in the chest as Zev materialized right where Branislava had been. They stared into each another’s eyes. The stake in his fist penetrated right through the chest wall, through muscle and tissue, straight to the heart. Zev put his arm around Arnau and gently lowered him to the ground. He went with him, crouching low.
Arnau tried to speak. Zev nodded several times. His sorrow was palpable, so intense Branislava felt tears burning behind her eyes.
“I know,” Zev said softly to Arnau. “Good journey my friend.” One hand around Arnau’s, he held the Lycan’s gaze with his own as the life faded from the elite hunter’s eyes.
He stayed beside the body for a long minute, his hand smoothing back the hunter’s hair and then slipping his fingers over the mask of death to close Arnau’s eyes. He stood slowly, as if the weight of his friend was heavy on his shoulders. Taking a breath, he drew his sword and severed the head from the shoulders in one smooth movement.
There was silence in the hall. Gregori was the first to move. “Mikhail, this will be a long job for Bronnie and Zev. Perhaps it is best if we take care of other matters and allow them to get to it. I’ve sent for Fen and Dimitri. They work well with Zev, and if their lifemates are present, both are powerful in their own right. The combination of these six could very well defeat Xaviero’s plans.”
“In other words,” Mikhail said. “You’d like to put me in a bubble and keep me safe.”
Zev cleaned his sword and put it slowly and reverently back in its scabbard. “We all want you safe, Mikhail. Whatever Xaviero has done here cannot touch you, or he will win.” He turned his head, his eyes meeting the prince’s. “I’m not willing to let him win. He’s taken too many good men with his evil. We have to stop him.”
Mikhail nodded. “I agree. Just be careful.”
Branislava moved under Zev’s shoulder, slipping her arm around him as they turned back to the open door and the body of Arnau’s father.
I’m so sorry, Zev. There were no right words. She felt his pain, that intense sorrow he refused to allow others to see. The death of his friend had only increased his determination to destroy Xaviero before he could hurt anyone else.
Zev’s only indication that he heard her was a soft brush of his mind against hers. His face didn’t change expression and his gaze didn’t stray from the room.
“Where do we start?” he asked.
Branislava straightened her shoulders and stepped to the doorway, carefully studying the symbols. “First I have to cleanse the room and drive away the demons he set here. He brought them through the gates of hell. I’ve seen them do it more than once, and whatever comes through can get trapped on this side.”
Zev frowned. “I can’t fight what I can’t see.”
“This won’t be that kind of fight,” she replied. “You can’t physically enter that room without being killed. The demons stand guard as they’ve been commanded to do and wait for their reward, the flesh and blood of a living creature.”
“I’ve heard of shadow warriors, the dead brought back to serve the mage.”
She shook her head. “Shadow warriors were men who fought with honor, and a mage captured their spirit and forced them into service. These are demons, evil beings the mage can’t force into service. He makes an exchange with them. In this case, he’s trading their service for the chance to taste flesh and blood. Yours or mine, specifically.”
Zev ran his hand down his knife as if eager for battle. “Let’s get to this. Tell me what to do.”
“We’re one, our souls tied together, so he believes if he kills one of us, he kills the other,” she explained.
“And he’s right,” Zev confirmed.
“He doesn’t know our spirits are tied together. If either of us gets pulled into the other world, which from what I see here, could be their plan, the demons devour our body and our spirit will enter the other world where his brother waits to collect it in the hopes that he can be resurrected.”
Zev swore under his breath. “I’m a man who fights what’s in front of me, not ghosts,” he said, his voice turning gravelly, the growl not far off. “How the hell do you prevent your spirit from entering another realm, or your body from being devoured by demons?”
She r
eached out and gently rubbed his wrist. “I don’t know if that is the plan, Zev,” she admitted. “I’m trying to guess and prepare myself for any likelihood. I know they spoke of such things, and the spirit has to be one known to them.”
Zev was a man of action, and this fight required finesse, the knowledge of spells and both white and black magic. His breath hissed out, a harsh blast of protest. “He wants your spirit.”
“He didn’t know I was here until he questioned Arno,” she reminded. “But he is an opportunist. I’m just being careful.”
She glanced behind her and Arnau’s body was already gone, the hall clean as if no violent death had ever taken place. She touched her belly where the claws had raked her. “There can be no trace of blood on me,” she added, lifting her fingers to examine the evidence of the Lycan’s attack.
Instantly Zev spun her around and really looked at her. “Branka, I’m sorry. I was selfishly thinking of the loss of my friend.” He placed his palm over the bite marks on her neck.
Rather than soothe the wound, pain flashed through her body. She jerked away from him, her eyes going wide. “I need Skyler and Tatijana right away,” she said and let herself sink down on the floor right in front of the door. “Tell them to hurry,” she added.
Fen and Tatijana emerged first, Tatijana going to her knees beside her sister. Her gaze went into the room and she gasped at the sight of the bloody symbols.
Branislava grasped her hand tightly. “I was bitten by Xaviero’s servant.”
“Arnau was not Xaviero’s servant,” Zev protested. “He was a good man.” He crouched beside his lifemate. “When I tried to heal her with my palm, my touch burned through her. I felt it, Tatijana.”
Tatijana and Branislava stared at one another in a kind of horror. Tatijana gripped her sister’s hand. “He injected you with demon’s bait, didn’t he? They’ll rush right to you.”
Zev wrapped his arms around his lifemate. “Speak a language I can understand.”
“We have to get it out of her,” Tatijana said. “They’ll find her. In this realm or the next, they’ll come for her. I know this spell. I saw them all working on perfecting it. We both did. Bronnie, we can get it out of you.”
Branislava nodded several times, took a deep breath and settled back against Zev. “Now, Tatijana, you and Skyler. Get her here. Where is she?”
“Dimitri and Skyler were out running the wolves this evening with Ivory and Razvan,” Fen explained, his voice so gentle Branislava had to fight tears. “All of them are on their way and should be here soon.”
She knew she was emotional. Most of it had to do with Zev’s emotion—or lack thereof. He pushed his feelings aside in order to survive the things he had to do, but she felt it, that burning sorrow at the loss of a man he considered family. He blamed himself for not tending to her wounds immediately and for not finding a way to prevent what had transpired. Losing a council member was a huge blow to him. Losing Arnau, a member of his pack, was even more of a personal blow. And now knowing he had waited to heal her and she was infected . . .
“We’re here,” Skyler said, breathing hard, as if she’d been running. “Ivory, too. What do you need?”
“She’s been bitten. Demon bait was transferred into her body,” Tatijana explained.
Both Ivory and Skyler looked past the Dragonseeker sisters into the room. Thousands of bloody runes covered the walls and ceiling, while a dark pool of blood covered the floor.
“I can use the bait to draw the demons into the open,” Branislava explained. “It’s the only way to send them back to where he pulled them from. He’s brought them through from hell.”
Ivory’s fingers sought the cross she always wore hanging around her neck. Her fist closed over it. “I saw Xavier, at least at the time I thought it was Xavier, it may have been one of the others, but I swore the gates of hell opened and he emerged.”
Branislava went pale, but she didn’t reply. Instead she looked to Tatijana. Tatijana stepped back at once and lifted her arms. Her eyes grew larger, the emeralds darkening to a much deeper hue.
Thurisaz, I call upon thee,
That which can bring chaos, instinctive will,
Help me to draw forth that which will draw forth the darkness of demons,
Born of blood, by the blood I command thee to come forth.
Dark bubbles appeared around the wounds in Branislava’s neck and stomach. The bubbles beaded together to form long strands. The strands wiggled and danced, until finally a head appeared on each one. The small creature writhed and squirmed, feasting on the droplets of blood before being suddenly lifted up by a blast of icy wind and driven into the room where Arno’s body lay.
Branislava spun around and came to her feet all at once, a blur of motion, her hands up like two weapons. Her breath caught in her throat. Tatijana stood as close as possible. Power leapt between the two women. Branislava could feel the flow of energy pouring from her sister to her. Skyler and Ivory joined with Tatijana and the power was so strong, it was almost too difficult to wield. She felt Zev close, steadying her.
Inside the room, the long, wormlike creatures rushed to feed off the pool of blood beneath the dead body. There was a moment of absolute stillness, and then the chamber came alive. Dark shadows appeared from every direction of the room and one dropping from the ceiling, bodies stretching obscenely, mouths yawning wide as bony, clawed fingers reached greedily to snatch at the demon bait. There were five of them. The shadowed shapes circled the dark worms and the body on the floor.
Branislava waved her hands gracefully, drawing symbols in the air, all the while chanting in a soft, but commanding voice.
That which comes from the dark,
I see you, I know you,
I take back from you the spirit and energy that was stolen,
I call upon Hagalaz, that which can be destructive uncontrolled,
I call forth your energy now, Hagalaz, to use your forces of control.
Branislava’s voice swelled with power. She felt the additional boost as Skyler joined Tatijana, feeding her energy to counter the dark spell the High Mage had left behind.
I call upon the spirit of air,
Winds that blow freely,
Bring forth your gales,
Cleanse and seal this place,
So that which would do harm may not leave this place.
In unison, the demons whirled around to face her, mouths gaping at her, eyes glowing red with hatred. They clawed at the wormlike creatures, snatching them up as the cleansing wind began to whirl around the room. Shrieking in fury, the demons thrust the worms into their mouths, gobbling fast in an effort to get something in return for their daylong vigil. Even as they devoured the worms, they rushed toward the opening where she stood unflinching, her hands as graceful as ever, determination in her every move as well as in her voice.
The demons hit an invisible barrier and were pulled back toward the center of the room. The wind whipped around the walls of the room in a circle, traveling faster and faster, howling, seeking prey. It caught at the shadowy figures and tugged, dragging at their reluctant forms, pulling them apart until they looked more like dust particles scattered in the air.
Still the shrieking could be heard. The walls of the room swelled outward. The ceiling raised higher, the bloodied runes writhing, looking as if they were alive and making an effort to counteract Branislava’s commands. She kept the wind building speed, calling once more for aid from above.
That which is bound by darkness,
I call forth light.
Fire that burns and cleanses bright.
I call forth your energy, separate and dispel,
That which would be bound, sending it back to hell.
The particles in the room slowly began to be drawn into the very vortex of the wind, spinning faster and faster, a funnel of black sand and shadow. Hands emerged, great long bony fingers tipped with claws, and just as suddenly were pulled back into the maelstrom. Faces pressed through the t
wister, mouths screaming, eyes distorted and then those too disappeared.
Branislava kept the pressure on, building on the power fed to her by Tatijana, Skyler and Ivory. She refused to relent, again weaving symbols in the air, the pattern intricate, a replica of the runes written in blood on the walls and ceiling, but in reverse order.
As fire burns and ashes fall,
I call forth the abyss, hear my call.
Open your maw so that I may return,
That which was born of blood and must be returned.
Heat burst through the room. Orange-red flames danced up the walls and licked across the ceiling, devouring the runes. As the fire spread and leapt higher, the demons shrieked and moaned in protest. The cleansing wind continued rushing around the room, howling in fury, fanning the flames until every last rune was consumed. The demons tried to flee the firestorm, but the winds were too strong for their insubstantial bodies. They were drawn in by the ferocious gale and consumed by the flames.
Branislava drew a deep breath and allowed the wind and flames to slowly subside. She felt her legs tremble. Turning, she went into Zev’s arms, uncaring who was watching and might see her weakness—her vulnerability. She needed the comfort of his strength, of the rock that he was for her.
“I know now what the three of them were doing when Xavier seemed to kill Xaviero and then Xayvion,” she murmured into Zev’s shirt. She lifted her head and looked at her sister with stricken eyes. “They were practicing bringing each other back from the other side. That’s what Ivory saw. They were practicing for a time just like this one.”
“Do you mean he intends to bring Xavier back?” Razvan asked. His voice was steady, his face expressionless.
“He needs a soul, or a spirit,” Tatijana said. “To send down the tree of life.”
“Arno, a council member?” Zev asked. “Or his son, Arnau, an elite hunter?”