Dark Blood Page 20

  "The men in the second circle will protect us from any outside harm," Gregori added. "Rely on them to have your back. They will stand in the face of any enemy. Your single job is to guard Bronnie and give her that power if she asks for it. No matter what happens around us, stay with Bronnie."

  Gregori couldn't have gotten the point across any better. Without a doubt, what they were attempting was extremely dangerous.

  Zev let out his breath as Daciana and Makoce led Damon to the sphere. He was blindfolded.

  "Go to the edge of the trees and remain there," Gregori instructed the two elite hunters. "Do not set one foot on the meadow. It will be extremely dangerous to you."

  Both were clearly already uneasy inside the circle of power. Daciana's hair had risen as an electrical charge had shot through her body. She nodded, squeezed her brother's arm and both Lycans trotted to the edge of the forest to join with Lykaon and Arnau.

  Gregori waited until they were far enough away before turning to Damon. "This is your desire, to have the shadow removed from your brain?" Gregori asked.

  Zev noticed the women remained absolutely silent. Should Xaviero pick this precise moment to enter his shadow puppet, there was no evidence to betray the identity of the women. Damon would hear only Gregori's voice. He couldn't see anything at all.

  "Yes. Thank you. I'd very much appreciate you getting this thing the hell out of my head," Damon said, his voice coming in low growls.

  His wolf was close, desperate to protect him. Branislava glanced fearfully at Zev. Should Damon's wolf take over, he would be extremely dangerous. They were threading the needle between the mage and the wolf.

  "Damon," Zev said softly. "I am here, watching over you."

  The tension seemed to ease in Damon at once. "If I go mad, Zev, I don't want to harm anyone, especially a woman." He inhaled, drawing the scent of each of the women into his lungs. One could blindfold a wolf, but you couldn't deaden his acute sense of smell very easily.

  "I know, Damon," Zev assured.

  "Promise me. You're my pack leader. It's your duty."

  Technically, Zev wasn't really his pack leader. Damon wasn't a member of his elite hunters, but to Zev he was family, and that meant he was part of Zev's pack, elite or not. "You have my word. Just relax and let them do their work. Your wolf knows I'll keep everyone safe."

  "We're going to put you to sleep, Damon," Gregori said. "It's much safer for all of us. Should the one who mage-shadowed you attempt to see through your eyes, he will find you in a deep sleep. It is night, he'll think nothing of your being asleep and leave again."

  That was their hope. Whether or not their plan worked was something altogether different.

  Damon nodded. "One way or another, just please get rid of it. If you can't, don't let me wake up. I'm not going to let him use me to assassinate a council member or kill a woman."

  "Your heart is accelerating," Gregori said soothingly. "Remain calm. We're going to remove the mage-shadow."

  Zev didn't want to think about what would happen if they couldn't. He wished Daciana was back with the council members, but they'd unwisely allowed her to stay near her brother.

  Gregori held his arms up to the sky, palms facing the drifting clouds. Zev felt the swift buildup of energy inside the circle. The hairs on his body stood out as an electrical charge built up around them. Gregori chanted in a low carrying voice.

  I command thee sky, darken Earth.

  Clouds rushed overhead, boiling and churning, great dark cauldrons blotting out every star and bit of moon to be found.

  Earth below now quake and tremble. Gregori's voice swelled with power.

  The ground shifted, rising and falling around the outer circle, but didn't cross that line of protection. The clearing rippled with waves, as if the field was alive, a guardian keeping those within the circle protected.

  Let flood waters take all who would enter.

  Water bubbled from below, the hidden river rising at his command. Around the outer circle the ground sank, forming a deep trench. Water filled the ditch, developing a moat.

  Gregori, arms raised to the boiling clouds, moved his hands in a graceful, but deadly pattern. The towering dark clouds lit from within, long forks of orange-red flames.

  Mage fire, burn forth in rage, he commanded.

  Thunder shook the forest, and lightning slammed from ground to sky and back again, five or six bolts sizzling through the sky to strike the meadow around the circle.

  Entrapping shadow within your cage, he finished.

  Gregori stepped up beside Damon and drew him into the middle of the circle. He started to wave his hand to send Damon into a sleep, but Branislava and Tatijana both shook their heads.

  Xaviero will sense your presence. Your touch as a Carpathian is too strong, too individual, Branislava explained, using the common Carpathian path for communication so all of them could hear. We need a mage spell that will feel like a real sleep.

  Wouldn't Xaviero spot a mage spell before a Carpathian one? Zev asked.

  Carpathians were taught the spells from mages, Gregori said.

  Branislava nodded. True, and they were slightly different for Carpathians so a mage could always tell who had actually cast the spell or woven a safeguard.

  That still means Xaviero would recognize a mage spell, Zev insisted.

  Branislava and Tatijana exchanged a small smile. Branislava shook her head. Not if we changed the spell yet again. We had little to do behind those walls of ice but learn. We are every bit as adept as the three of them.

  Branka, I love your confidence. Zev had faith in her, but he knew how terrified she was of Xaviero. She hadn't wanted to face the mage and had only committed to erasing the shadow because she feared no one else could do it without harming themselves.

  It's the simple truth, Zev, but we don't practice the dark arts like they do. We might know each spell--we felt it necessary to learn in order to reverse them--but we refused to use our gifts for anything other than good.

  Or mischief, he teased, wanting to see her smile. Her complexion was stark white, her eyes enormous, looking like two emeralds pressed into her face.

  She turned her head to look at him and gave him a smile that was worth more than all the gold in the world to him. His heart gave a little stutter and he placed his palm over his chest in a small tribute to her.

  For a long moment, Branislava's gaze clung to Zev's. They stared into each another's eyes, hers questioning. He nodded slowly and then she answered his nod with one of her own, showing him they were in perfect accord.

  Branislava closed her eyes and sent her own prayer to the universe, calling on all things good and right for aid.

  Valerian, Lemon Balm, German Chamomile,

  I call forth your essence to calm and wile.

  Lavender, Catnip, heed my call,

  Bring peaceful sleep so evil may not call.

  Damon's eyes closed obediently under the blindfold, his face peaceful, not showing any of the stress that had been stamped there just minutes before.

  Gregori unexpectedly reached out and took both of Branislava's hands. "You have great courage, Dragonseeker courage. This time you are not alone in your fight to save this man. We're with you and will aid you in every possible way. More, you are tied, spirit and soul to your lifemate. He is Dark Blood--from our strongest line of warriors. I have no doubt that you can do this and triumph."

  In those strange liquid silver eyes that had always given her pause, as they were so much like those of the High Mage, Xavier, and that of his brothers, she saw the fire reflected there--her fire. She was the manipulator of fire.

  She nodded her head again, and then glanced around the circle to each one of her sister-kin--the Dragonseeker women. Tatijana, so beloved, so close she would always be a part of Branislava. Young Skyler, so powerful and intelligent, a young sister full of life. Ivory, elusive and a skilled warrior, loyal and poetic. They surrounded her, ready to fight with her.

  And Zev. Her wol
f. Her everything. When had it gotten to be that way? She didn't even know, but he was her other half. She loved everything about him, and her faith in him would never waiver. He was her protector and he stood ready.

  Branislava let go of her own body with confidence, becoming pure healing energy. It was always a bit of a wrench going from physical to astral, but once she shed her physical form, there was a sense of freedom unlike any she'd ever experienced.

  She moved into Damon. He was calm, but she felt the watchful presence of his wolf. She sent the animal side of the Lycan both friendship and reassurance, grateful that Zev's aura was so strong. The wolf recognized him and settled without protest. She knew where the shadow had adhered to the brain, forming a lesion for Xaviero to use as an entry point. He could take control of Damon through the small stain and direct his activities. It was an abomination of life and free will and it wasn't tolerated by any society, yet Xaviero had managed to infect many of the Lycans without anyone's knowledge.

  Branislava thought of this moment as her first real strike back at the High Mage. No one had ever managed to oppose him, not and lived to tell about it. She studied the area around the shadow. The ridges and valleys around the darker spot appeared to be untouched. She wasn't fooled. Xaviero's traps were clever and strong. He twisted light and bent it, weaving it into his spells so his most deadly traps always appeared to be the safest path to take.

  Scattered throughout the grayish matter were those white cells--the filaments carrying commands. She saw the clever spots Xaviero had left around his shadow, those marks meant to trick an enemy into believing those were the places to avoid while the real danger was the very innocent-looking white filaments the mage used to send his commands throughout Damon's body.

  She moved around the hot spots checking for the current of dark magic energy the mage couldn't help but leave behind. The moment she encountered it, she stayed perfectly still in her form as well as in her mind. Absolute calm was called for as she tested a strand of the weave like a delicate spider, her touch light, almost nonexistent. Had she still been inside her body her heart would have accelerated and her mouth would have gone dry. She felt the adrenaline and buildup of stress, with no real way to rid herself of it.

  Your great advantage is that you have seen his work a million times, yet he has never once seen yours.

  Zev. Her protector. He was to stay silent, waiting for his moment to feed her his strength, but there was so much more to their partnership. He had given her truth. He was so right. Xaviero had dismissed Tatijana and Branislava so easily, using them for his audience just as Xavier had done, but he had never credited them with brains or the ability to learn from him and his brothers.

  You learned from all three. Doesn't that give you more knowledge?

  Sadly, she'd learned all of it, both white and black magic.

  Not sadly. You have knowledge that will help defeat a mage bent on destroying three species and ruling another. Don't you think there is a higher purpose for your skills? No one else can stop this mage.

  Zev had a way of cutting through the emotion to get to the very heart of the truth. Again she examined those telling white filaments. Tiny microscopic hairs, so delicate she would have missed them had she not known what to look for. They were so thin, those weaves, one layer on top of the next so that a web of protection surrounded the shadow. Looking closer, she saw the weave formed a snare over the mark, but the hairs were darker, blending with the shadow.

  I know this one. His classic blend of light and dark. He starts with white magic, using elements that are good, goes to those that are neutral and then calls upon darkness to hide within the weave he's made. He spins those strands over and over, a seven-point weave that is strong. But I can go backward and carefully remove the seven strands.

  Branislava expanded her mind, calling on the power within, that smoldering fire always present in her deepest depth, running through her veins like molten lava.

  Spirits I call you, twist and unbind,

  That which was born of gray magic,

  To entrap and entwine.

  Dark is to light as light is to gray,

  Each strand I unwrap,

  To send darkness away.

  Future to present, present to past,

  Unwrap that which was woven,

  So no more shall it cast.

  One by one, those strands fell away, the tiny hairs pulling back to allow her to see the actual shadow she had to remove. Just to be certain she was safe, because she didn't trust Xaviero would not have a fail-safe, she took another careful look around the entire vicinity near the mage-shadow. There was no visual evidence of another trap, but she felt uneasy each time she got a little closer to the shadow and she kept her energy as low and as dim as possible, not wanting to accidentally spill across that shadow when she was certain there was another safeguard.

  She studied the mark from every direction, first moving above it. She thought she caught a little glimmer, but it was gone before she could actually know for certain. She approached from the left side and saw nothing at all. From below, she caught the same flicker of movement, but it was gone as quickly as she noted it. From the right, a brief little shimmer told her for certain there was another weave.

  She'd seen Xaviero use the technique many times. The safeguard continually moved position, several times in seconds so that it was nearly impossible to detect. Had she not known what she was looking for, she would have tripped his fail-safe.

  Stopping this one was a little more difficult, but certainly not impossible. She had watched him, eye open and pressed to the wall of thick ice, so that the distortion, although present, hadn't prevented her from seeing the intricate motions he had performed, the dance of his hands, so graceful, almost beautiful when he was conjuring a deadly trap. She had been fascinated by the movement, almost mesmerized.

  She followed that dance pattern so completely engraved in her mind with the flowing light of her spirit, although she started at the end of his pattern and traced her way to the beginning.

  Seven points you have woven,

  Seven points I unwind.

  With each flash of light,

  I unravel, I unbind.

  The glimmer shone bright and then dissolved as if it had never been. Branislava took an imaginary breath. She had no idea of time passing, but she could tell what she was doing was draining. An out-of-body experience could drain one's energy on its own; working at mind games and unraveling deadly traps while fearing the High Mage would come calling left her a little tired.

  Almost before she could acknowledge she was growing weary, she felt Tatijana pour strength into her. At once she was revitalized. Once again she moved toward the shadow. She had to do this in careful steps. She couldn't just take the mage-shadow away without alerting Xaviero. Should he suddenly check on Damon--and she was certain he would--he had to believe all was well and Damon merely slept the normal sleep of Lycans and humans. It was nighttime there and would be believable.

  Why would he check on Damon? Zev asked.

  He is High Mage, extraordinary and wholly sensitive to any disturbance in his web of evil. He won't know what is bothering him, but it will be there, like a nagging toothache. He'll need to check those puppets he sent to this area in order to see if something has happened. He'll want to rule out those closest to the Carpathians first.

  How do you stop him from knowing you're working at removing his shadow?

  By creating his safeguards over me.

  She could tell by Zev's silence he didn't like the idea at all, but to his credit, he didn't say anything. She was the expert in this field, and he had no choice but to trust her judgment. This was her most telling moment. She had to move into place above the shadow, very close without touching it, and above and around her put both safeguards back.

  Once Xaviero's safeguards are in place, no one else can give me energy but you, she said to Zev. Only you can supply me through the spirit weave we have. That's our advantage because
it is impossible for Xaviero to detect it. Any of my sister-kin can give you strength, but only you must feed me.

  It was almost as if fate or destiny had provided the necessary steps for them, creating a situation where she could fight Xaviero without all the advantages on his side. Keeping her spirit dim, she first wove the outer guard, wincing as she added the darker magic into the white and neutral elements.

  She felt ill uttering the foul words, but she used her best version of Xaviero. Mimicking the three brothers had become a skill she and Tatijana had learned as children. Both practiced all the time as they grew up. She had never imagined their game of mocking the triplets would ever be a skill she needed, but she was grateful she was good enough at casting. She believed he wouldn't recognize her weave wasn't actually his.

  When she was certain the top layer of his safeguard was in place and appeared just as she remembered it, she began to weave the glimmer directly overhead and so close there was barely room for even her spirit to maneuver. She knew she took too long. She had wanted to ensure she didn't make a mistake and she told herself not to hurry, but the longer her presence remained, along with the use of energy, she knew she would draw Xaviero like a magnet straight to her. He would come oozing out of his darkest hellhole, pouring himself into Damon, a giant venomous snake ready to strike.

  She waited, lying low, staying huddled as small as possible, willing Zev to do the same. She should have warned him of the feeling one could get when confronted with pure evil. She didn't dare reach into his mind, not when she felt the first dark stirrings. How did one describe evil?

  The feeling of dread came first, that tingle of awareness creeping with cold fingers down her spine. She felt the physical reaction as if her spirit was still inside her human form. The hair of her body reacted next, standing up. She had been encased in thick ice, entombed there for centuries, and always, she felt any of the three brothers long before they entered the room.

  Next came the slimy sensation, as if green sticky oil spread over her skin, coating her, clogging pores and inhibiting her ability to breathe, so that she had to draw in air in short, shallow, ragged gasps, and only when it was absolutely necessary to do so or pass out.