They had come to find and kill the shooters. They would do their best to follow Mikhail’s orders and not start a war. They would avoid killing innocents if they could, wounding those they were unsure of whose side they were on, but once the guns had come out, those shooters had marked themselves.
As Byron managed to shift back into human form, another wave of Lycans erupted out of the ground where they’d dug, hidden, to get to their prey. Two caught at Byron’s bloody body, dragging him back away from the three defenders while the other eight rushed the mixed bloods.
Dimitri leapt over the wall of Lycans, landing squarely over the top of Byron’s body, straddling him, his sword cutting through one of the wolves trying to pull Byron away. At the same time, Dimitri leaned down, thrusting a silver dagger into Byron’s fist, and yanked him up ruthlessly.
“Stay on your feet. No matter what, stay upright,” he cautioned Byron, engaging in swordplay with the second, now frantic Lycan.
Byron was bleeding from a dozen or more wounds, some bone deep. He kept one hand over his belly, where the wolves had sought to eviscerate him as they were known to do.
Dimitri sliced through the Lycan’s sword arm. The wolf screamed as his forearm, wrist and hand dropped to the ground. Dimitri dismissed him, swinging around to face the onslaught as five of his companions turned back to aid him. They swarmed Dimitri in an attempt to overpower and kill him.
Stay behind me, Byron, and keep an eye on the one-armed wolf. Keep in tight and move when I do.
Byron didn’t answer. He’d lost far too much blood and was growing weak fast, but he refused to allow himself to slide into unconsciousness. He gripped the dagger and tried to tune himself to Dimitri’s rhythm of fighting.
He was fast. Far faster than Byron had ever conceived of, even when he’d been warned about the mixed blood and their abilities. There was no possible way to keep up. More than anything he wanted to watch the deadly ballet between fighters. He couldn’t feel any energy rising from any of the fighters, least of all Dimitri. He found himself anticipating the moves of the enemy, being guided by them rather than his defender as he tried to stay back-to-back with Dimitri. Dimitri’s fast moves were entirely unpredictable.
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.”