Dark Lycan (Carpathian)

Stay in my mind, Fen warned softly, brushing against her brain with a gentle touch. You’ll be safe with me.

Xavier had mutated species on purpose, but his results had always been grotesque and frightening—beings that ate human flesh or were mindless, violent puppets. He had never considered what it would be to cross Lycan with Carpathian.

She allowed herself to sink into Fen’s mind, surprised that he had invited her so deep into his memories. She was still protecting herself, holding most of her past away from him, yet he was completely open to her, hiding nothing from her. She felt warm and protected, not at all like she thought she’d feel—claustrophobic—a prisoner even.

She heard the soft whisper of a footfall because he heard it. His hearing was far more acute than she’d realized. A soft murmur accompanied the clacking branches. Her heart jumped, began to thud wildly.

That’s a holding spell. If he completes it, you will not be able to move. He’ll control your every movement.

The spell is tied to the rhythm, my lady, Fen reminded gently. I do not feel the effects of either. I want to see who or what is driving these attacks.

This is mage. I recognize the work of one of Xavier’s favorite protégés. He was much younger than Xavier, but a true psychopath. Xavier was very proud of him and his sadistic nature. His name is Drummel. He is evil and very, very dangerous.

Can you counter his spells without revealing yourself?

Tatijana took a deep breath, allowing Fen to wrap her in his confidence. His calm was amazing to her. He had to have nerves of steel. He didn’t turn around to face the threat, or indicate in any way that he knew he was being stalked. His hands were as gentle and reverent on the dead man as always. No trembling. Nothing at all to give away that he was well aware of the danger coming up behind him.

The chanting increased, more rhythmic than ever, matching the increasing beating of the branches together. One step. Two. A slight rustle and then there was only the sound of the hypnotic notes. Tatijana tried to stop up her ears and settle deeper into the safety of Fen’s mind.

Fen exploded into action, whirling around, still in a crouch, going in low, using his Lycan form, half man, half wolf, enormously strong. He knocked Drummel onto his back and was on him in an instant. Tatijana would never have believed anything could move as fast as Fen had. He struck so hard he knocked the wind from Drummel’s lungs, leaving him gasping for air.

Fen wrapped his hand around his assailant’s throat, cutting off his air supply. With his lungs already burning, Drummel’s eyes bulged out of his head. He drew back his lips in a gasping snarl. His teeth were stained brown and pointed.

Fen shook him, never lessening his grip. “I see you, Bardolf,” he hissed. “You knew your possession had no chance of capturing me with his holding spell. Why sacrifice a pawn of value?”

He’s shadowed. How would Bardolf know how to split himself and implant a shadow in another? Tatijana asked. Very few mages can do this. It’s extremely difficult and very frightening. Shadows are lethal, Fen, and they can enter anyone close to them. Be careful.

Fen didn’t need to be told Drummel was shadowed. He could see Bardolf staring back at him through the eyes of the man’s body he’d commandeered. He had found a way to possess a mage as skilled and as powerful as Drummel. What did that say about Bardolf?

Drummel’s mouth moved several times, his lips struggling to form words. “I will take my pack and move on, Fenris Dalka.”

There was power in speaking another’s name. Every instinct Fen had immediately put him on guard. He stretched his senses, scanning the area around him. It was nearly impossible to detect Lycans when they wanted to remain hidden. Werewolves had a more difficult time as they couldn’t contain their energy and their eagerness for the kill, but they were still adept at hiding from the average hunter.

Be on the alert, Tatijana. There is more going on here than meets the eye.

“Why do you say this to me, Bardolf? Why not just take your pack and go?” Fen demanded.

“I want your word you will no longer hunt us.” Drool and spittle ran in long strings from Drummel’s mouth to his chin

That made no sense. Fen was a hunter. A Carpathian. Bardolf had recognized that he was both Lycan and Carpathian, which meant he had to know Fen was Carpathian first, an ancient hunter of the vampire. It was his duty, a matter of honor to hunt the undead. Bardolf was definitely the undead. He might have werewolf mixed in, but he was vampire and had to be destroyed.