Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

The second wave of the pack rushed in. Fen spun around toward the new threat, saw them engulfing Dimitri and Zev, who were back to back. He moved fast, using the double speed of the Carpathian/Lycan blood flowing in his veins. He plunged a silver spike deep into one werewolf’s heart and rushed past just as an enormous werewolf came out of the mist.

Instantly, Fen knew. This was no ordinary werewolf. This was the vampire masking his presence in the midst of a rogue pack, no, not just a vampire, this was far more. “Zev, Dimitri,” he shouted the warning. “Behind you. Sange rau.”

He was already leaping across the werewolves, trying to get to his brother before the newcomer did. His burst of speed put him directly in the vampire’s path. Eyes glowed red, settling on him. The wolf/vampire charged him. They came together with terrible force, shaking the ground around them. The impact was so hard, Fen felt his very bones rattle. He felt as if a freight train had hit him, but if he felt that way, he knew his adversary did as well. He punched through the chest wall, his last silver stake in his fist, driving for the heart. To kill a Sange rau was far more difficult than killing either a Lycan or a vampire. He’d had a lot of experience on what didn’t work.

Around him, the battle waged, Zev and Dimitri fighting off the werewolves, while up above them, the dragon came in low, breathing fire on the wolves she could without harming Fen, Dimitri or Zev.

“I see you,” the Sange rau hissed, his voice low. “I know you.”

Fen knew him, too. He’d been in a pack for a few months a century or so ago and this Lycan had been the pack alpha. His name was Bardolf and he’d been particularly mean, ruling his pack with an iron hand. He’d disappeared on a hunt, and when they’d tracked him, there had been a bloody battle between him and what Fen had been certain had been the undead. Neither were anywhere to be found, nor were there bodies. Now, Fen knew what had happened. The Lycan had torn into the vampire, gulping his blood, and he’d consumed enough to transform himself.

“I see you, too,” Fen said, ducking under the wolf/vampire’s reaching arm to come in close to slam his fist hard into Bardolf’s chest.

He had no more silver stakes. To kill Bardolf he would need the silver spike as well as to remove the heart from the chest and destroy it with fire. Few knew how to kill one such as Bardolf, but Fen had plenty of experience in trial and error when he’d tracked the Sange rau centuries before. He knew destroying the monster would be very difficult.

He plunged his fist deep, twisting his body to avoid the muzzle full of teeth rushing toward his throat. The teeth grazed him, ripping through flesh. He felt the flash of pain an instant before he blocked it, his fist moving deep in the chest of the undead, fingers seeking the withered heart. He couldn’t kill the beast, but he could slow it down, giving Tatijana time to destroy a number of the rogue pack from the sky.

Bardolf wrenched his body backward, pushing himself off of Fen with tremendous force so that Fen was flung backward as well, his fist pulling free of the vampire’s chest. Bardolf, instead of following up his advantage while Fen staggered, trying to recover his footing, leapt for the air, for the small dragon skillfully wielding flame.

“Fen!” Zev yelled. “Catch.”

Dimitri and Zev took the brunt of the attack on the next wave of werewolves as Bardolf clearly directed his rogues toward Fen. The two hunters, Carpathian and Lycan, quickly leapt between Fen and the oncoming assault.

Fen had his hand in the air almost before he turned around. A silver sword spiraled toward him. Fen caught the glittering handle and leapt into the air as a Lycan would, almost in one motion, slicing cleanly through Bardolf’s body just as the undead werewolf reached for the dragon’s spiked tail. Bardolf’s scream shook the trees below him, the discordant note an assault on every ear.

The werewolves set up a terrible cacophony of howls. The brush shivered. Leaves withered and tree branches shifted away from the body of the Sange rau as it dropped like a stone in two pieces to the ground with an ugly splat. Acid fell like rain, burning everything in its path.

Fen raced toward the head and chest. A large werewolf intercepted him. Fen swung the sword as another werewolf leapt on his back. The sword sliced through sinew and bone, cutting off an arm. The scent of blood and burned flesh made the werewolves nearly crazed so that they renewed their attacks in a mad frenzy, rushing at Dimitri and Zev, and dragging them to the ground.

Tatijana! Circle back.