Without warning, two more Lycans erupted almost at his feet. Byron thrust the dagger into the chest of the nearest one, sidestepping the knife coming at him from the Lycan’s left hand. The second wolf had a sword and he swung it low, still half in the ground. Dimitri somehow sensed the two as they burst out of the ground, but still Byron heard Dimitri grunt and knew he’d taken a hit.
Dimitri swore softly under his breath as the tip of a sword caught him across the back of his calf. Fire burned through his skin and body as the silver penetrated. You think I’d be used to it by now, he said to his brother.
Get the hell out of there. Zacarias has created an opening for us. Razvan and Ivory will do a flyby and pick you and Byron up.
Screw that, Fen. Dimitri was not about to leave the other two on the ground, not with so many Lycans determined to kill them all.
Binding your lifemate hasn’t improved your temper much, Fen noted. I wasn’t planning on hanging around. I’m not wounded in twenty-seven places, burned all to hell and back and playing the hero for my woman. I can grab Zev and go the moment you and Byron are safe.
Dimitri parried two swords at once, riding them in a circle to the ground and then cutting deep into both Lycans’ chests.
Not to mention those De La Cruz brothers are wreaking as much havoc as they dare. I don’t think technically they’ve actually killed anyone, but they’re ruthless as hell and definitely riding a thin edge. They plan to shield us as we take off. I can shift in the air. Zev’s pretty adept at flight now.
That made more sense. Just this one time, Dimitri considered that it might be fun to be one of the De La Cruz brothers. They were a law unto themselves—or rather, their eldest brother. Every Carpathian alive knew one didn’t cross Zacarias and come out of it unscathed.
I’m a little busy right now, Dimitri pointed out. You two get out of here and we’ll be behind you as soon as we can fight our way free.
We’re heading your way now.
As Fen and Zev began to move steadily toward Byron and Dimitri, there was a shift in their minds, a clear telepathic message of triumph.
We’ve found them, Nicolas said. Seven shooters. All of them are feeling rather smug that they shot Skyler, Paul and Josef. They’re even whispering about how the girl is the one to kill, that if they managed to kill her, the Carpathians would definitely go to war.
They think Skyler is Sange rau because she was able to construct the shelter, Rafael added. A hit has been put out on her and their top assassins have been sent to track and kill her, Dimitri, Fen and Zev.
Dimitri’s gut tightened. Razvan, pick up Byron and get him somewhere you can close his wounds and give him blood.
What the hell are you planning to do? Fen demanded. Dimitri, have you lost your mind? You can’t see yourself, but your skin is gray and drawn. You have to get out of here now before you collapse. You aren’t fully healed and we haven’t managed to replace the blood you lost.
Dimitri was not a man who argued. Razvan swooped low, coming out of the sky fast, a streak of vapor, to materialize at the last moment and gather Byron up in his arms, taking him high before the Lycans even knew he was there.
Dimitri instantly shifted into tiny molecules impossible for a Lycan to latch on to. He shot through the trees, back into deeper forest, seeking the men Nicolas had found. They had started the fight between the species, just as they’d been ordered to do, but they weren’t taking chances on getting hacked apart by the skilled warriors.
They’d done their job, stirring up the camp, poisoning minds against Zev, or at least raising doubts about him. They proclaimed the council was behind them and that Zev had done something to cut off all cell phone contact, leaving them isolated. They sent their pawns into the battlefield, right beside those who were still on the fence, or even loyal to the council.
Sitting up in the trees and watching the battle from a safe distance with night vision goggles, they acted as commentators at a sports event, even laughing when some of the council’s loyal followers suffered amputations. The limbs would grow back, but still, the severe injuries would definitely make up the minds of those who hadn’t fully believed them.
“This couldn’t get any better,” one of the Lycans stated. He had blond hair and considered himself quite handsome. He had believed in the sacred code, all of it, including the place of women in their society. Too long things had been influenced by human interaction. The old ways, the traditions and codes had long been forgotten. “We definitely managed to stir things up, even without Gunnolf.”
Another nodded, peering through the branches to watch the chaos below. “They’ll join us now. Half of them have been shot with arrows or hacked in two, just like Gunnolf predicted.”
“Don’t pat yourselves on the back yet,” said a third. “Zev is charismatic. Everyone listens to him, including the council. He’s got to die before he starts talking again.”
“I haven’t heard if we succeeded at the meeting, the talks for an alliance,” another commented. “Keeping everyone from using their phones means we don’t have the ability either. We can only hope they did their part and wiped out the council. The moment that news hits, everyone will take up arms against the Carpathians.”
“Do you believe Zev is truly Sange rau? Or that the Carpathian prisoner was? If he was so powerful, why couldn’t he free himself?”
“What difference does it make?” the blond snarled. “The woman is the one who freed him and set up that fortress we couldn’t penetrate. If anyone’s Sange rau, it’s her. She used some kind of blood spell, I could smell her everywhere.”
“Her name,” Dimitri said, coming up behind him, “is Skyler.” He plunged the silver stake straight through the blond Lycan’s back so hard the tip came out through the wolf’s chest. In one motion, Dimitri’s sharp sword sliced through branch and neck so that the head tumbled to the ground below.
He whirled like a dancer, never actually placing his feet on the branches, but rather performed the brutal ballet there in the air, keeping the close quarters so that the Lycans were hampered by the branches and leaves. Even as they tried to scramble out of the trees, he cut down a second one, using his sword to sever the head from the neck.
“You could have waited,” Rafael complained, driving a silver stake through the heart of the headless Lycan wedged in the tree. He whirled around in midair, using a silver knife to scoop out the heart of a third, dropping it in the crotch of the tree right in front of a shocked Lycan. He stabbed the knife through the center of the heart to nail it to the trunk and glided back to allow Dimitri’s sword to send the head tumbling to the ground beside the other two.
One Lycan managed to extract himself from the branches. He leapt toward the ground, realizing, too late, that a third Carpathian stood waiting. The man was so still he could have been a part of the very landscape. When he moved, he flowed like water, striking so fast the Lycan was dead before he actually hit the ground, a silver stake in his heart and his head completely severed.
The three remaining conspirators pretended to surrender, fingers on the triggers of their weapons. “We haven’t done anything to you,” one pleaded, moving his head to the left to peer around the branch, trying to get a look at Dimitri. “We give up. You can have our weapons.” Three swords and two knives were thrown to the ground below.