Blood Oath (14 page)

As
soon as he exited the castle, he set off in the direction calling to him. He
was almost certain he could feel Anca, and hoped his senses weren’t deceiving
him into going the wrong way. He broke into a run, without trying to pace
himself. In his wolf-form, he couldn’t access his mental powers as well, but he
still knew she was in danger. He had to find her, and soon.

* * * * *

The
cry of a wolf, quickly followed by three other distinctive howls, sounded much
too close for Anca’s comfort. Full dark was upon the land, and she was
questioning her decision to stay put. Yet, what alternative was there? She had
already discarded the idea of walking down the path, at least until morning.

She
eyed the towering trees, wondering if she could manage to shimmy up one for
shelter. Could wolves climb trees? Surely not, since dogs couldn’t…or could
they? Oh, how she wished her mother had let her have a pet as a child.

Anca
shivered as a brisk wind rustled through the trees. A while ago, she had gone
from sitting on the tablecloth to huddling in it, but it was a meager wrap. She
stood up and ran around in a circle, hoping exertion would raise her body
temperature. Who would have expected the temperature to plummet from the mid-eighties
during the day to the lower-forties at night?

She
stiffened when she heard a furtive movement in the stand of trees nearby.
Anca’s eyes darted around the lake, but she couldn’t make out much, even with
the half-moon. She knelt down to pluck a sturdy branch from the ground where
she had placed it earlier. It had been the best makeshift weapon she could find
at the time.

She
cast off the blanket and took what she hoped was an aggressive stance. She
crouched slightly and spread her legs wider. She gripped the rough branch like
a club and waited to see if the sound was in her imagination. Please let it be
her imagination.

The
rustling came again, this time closer, and accompanied by a low growl. Seconds
later, a medium-sized wolf appeared in front of her.

Anca
struggled to breathe as she told herself it was just a large dog from the
village or the castle. The trio of howls that sounded from nearby didn’t
reinforce her supposition. She tightened her hands on the branch until her
fingertips were numb and waited to see what the wolf would do. She prayed it
was a lone wolf, but from the howls she’d heard, she assumed it was part of a
pack.

The
wolf walked forward boldly, with its tail swishing as enthusiastically as one
of its domesticated cousins. Its eyes gleamed red in the moonlight, and there
appeared to be a tinge of cinnamon-red to its thick coat. Saliva glistened on
its muzzle, and as it stopped less than two feet away, there was no mistaking
it was definitely a wolf, not a dog.

She
whimpered low in her throat as the wolf bared its teeth in a growl. Anca shook
her head, wondering if she had imagined the eager, almost playful, tone to its
growl. Somehow, she doubted it was a game she would enjoy if the wolf were
playing.

It
moved so quickly she barely had time to swing the branch. One second, it stood
in front of her, and the next, it had sprung into the air. Anca saw it speeding
toward her face, and she brought up the branch.

Too
slow
.
Not enough force
, she thought to herself as the branch
connected with a thwacking sound against the wolf’s front paw. It howled with
pain, but it barely slowed its assault. Anca tried to brace herself as the
animal crashed into her and sent her sprawling.

The
reality of being confronted by a set of deadly fangs was worse than anything
she had imagined during the time she had waited for someone to lead her back to
Castle Draganescu. The wolf was inches from her face, and Anca strained to hold
it back or push it away.

It
snapped at her, and its warm breath washed over her. Anca was disconcerted that
the wolf’s breath smelled of mint. Shouldn’t it reek of death and blood?

She
pushed aside the frivolous thought and concentrated on trying to hold off the
wolf. She cried out as it surged forward. Before she could roll away or push it
off, the wolf’s fangs sank into her shoulder.

With a
low growl, the wolf tore through the meaty part of her shoulder. Anca screamed
with agony as the ragged edges of the wound rubbed together when the wolf
withdrew.

She
knew it hadn’t finished its attack. She blinked back a wave of blackness
descending over her eyes and tried to second-guess the wolf. It had gone for
her neck, but missed—she had no doubt about that. It would surely try again.
Why was it hesitating?

As she
racked her brain for a way to fight the wolf, as she continued to push against
its body with all her strength, she heard a dreaded sound: Vicious growls
surrounded her. She glanced briefly over the shoulder of the wolf pinning her
to the ground and couldn’t hold back a small scream.

Four
wolves ringed them in a half-circle. One of the wolves—the one with the darkest
coat—was massive, with wide shoulders, deadly looking fangs, and a menacing
growl that caused her stomach to heave with nausea. The others seemed almost
insignificant, but she didn’t fail to notice the light-brown one or the
dark-brown one.

Anca
froze when her gaze slid over the silvery-white wolf. There was
something…familiar…about its eyes. She frowned, temporarily forgetting a wolf
lay on her, intent on tearing out her throat. She couldn’t seem to wrench her
gaze from the silver wolf.

A
whimper from the wolf pressing her into the ground caught Anca’s attention, and
she couldn’t believe she had forgotten about her circumstances. She stood no
chance against a pack of wolves, and with her blood flowing, surely they were
stirred into a frenzy.

Yet,
there was an eerie calm about the four wolves standing nearby. Each of their
eyes was on the wolf pinning her down. Anca couldn’t believe it when that wolf
backed away, with its tail tucked between its legs. To her further shock, each
of the wolves turned to face the wolf as it backed away, instead of focusing on
Anca.

In
what looked like a command, the silver wolf looked at the dark-brown wolf and
jerked its head in the direction of the reddish wolf. Without so much as a
glance her way, the dark-brown one broke into a run. The reddish wolf seemed to
realize it was in danger, because it turned and raced across the clearing,
plunging into the forest with little regard for stealth. The dark-brown wolf
remained in pursuit.

Anca
eased into a sitting position, wondering if she could get up a tree before the
wolves remembered she was there. Her heart dropped into her stomach as the
silver wolf turned to eye her again. Its gaze was intent as it studied her, and
then turned to the light-brown wolf. When it made a low sound, the light-brown
wolf loped down the trail.

She
bit back a scream as the massive wolf and the silver wolf approached her. It
took her a moment to realize their posture was almost submissive, and they
didn’t seem to have the same aura of menace as the first wolf that attacked
her. She was almost unsurprised when the silver wolf hunkered down on its belly
and slithered toward her.

She
still withdrew her feet, pressing her knees into her stomach, when the silver
wolf sniffed her tennis shoe. She whimpered as the dark wolf plopped down
beside her, though not near enough to touch her. Only the silver wolf seemed so
bold as to initiate contact. He laid his head on her knee and whined softly.

It
felt like someone else controlled her hand as she lifted it to stroke the
wolf’s silky fur. He tilted his head in the direction of her hand, pressing his
ears more firmly against her fingers.

The
explanation suddenly presented itself. Her father must make a practice of
keeping tamed wolves as pets. Apparently, these wolves had been part of the
effort to find her. She briefly wondered how they had recognized her, but
assumed the process worked the same as one for bloodhounds used by police and
rescue services. The wolves must have smelled something containing her scent.

She
felt a glimmer of fear as the wolf pressed itself closer to her body and
sniffed her wound. Anca stiffened when its tongue flashed across the gaping
wound. She jerked away and had the disconcerting sensation the wolf was
reprimanding her with his steady gaze.

She
covered the wound with her hand to hide it from the wolf. Domesticated or not,
she thought blood might be too much temptation for a wolf, and she did not
intend to be dinner for this one, after narrowly escaping that fate with the
first one.

As the
minutes passed, Anca’s eyes grew heavier. She experienced an odd floating
sensation, and didn’t know if it was from blood loss or something else. A
strange thought flickered across her mind—that she was sharing her body with
another presence. This presence wasn’t intrusive, but it was tuned into her
thoughts, fears, and feelings through a tenuous link.

She
tried fighting the urge to sleep, not fully trusting her wolf companions, but
she was unable to keep her eyes open. A wave of exhaustion swept through her,
and she found herself lying on her back with no memory of stretching out. She
yawned and looked over at the silvery wolf as it nestled close to her, providing
warmth and comfort. The massive wolf curved itself against her back, further
warming her. Despite her best efforts to resist, she was soon asleep.

Chapter 9

Anca
was aware of the cool touch of a cloth on her brow and the soothing whispers
from a woman near her ear. She opened her eyes, but all she saw was a swirl of
bright colors that didn’t form a cohesive pattern. Her breathing was raspy, and
tremors shook her body. Her shoulder felt like it was on fire, and the
sensation was spreading down her arm and into her chest.

“Easy,”
came Demi’s voice, followed by the touch of his hand on her brow. “Remain calm,
meu dragostia
. Let Ylenia work.”

She
whimpered with fear, unable to summon the ability to speak. She felt…strange.
Her head was as light as it would have been if filled with helium. The fire
from her wound continued to spread, alternating between burning-hot and
icy-cold.

“Drink
this,” said a raspy feminine voice in thickly accented English.

She
felt the edge of a cup placed against her lips, and she parted them. A
noxious-tasting brew filled her mouth, and she choked.

“Swallow
it,” the woman insisted. “You must rest.”

Anca
managed a few sips, but her stomach churned with nausea, making her afraid to
attempt to drink more. She managed a feeble wave, and someone withdrew the cup.
A fog as thick as molasses descended on her, and the light-headed sensation
changed to one of heaviness. Her body grew numb, blocking out the pain from the
wound, and her eyelids closed.

“Is
she asleep?” Demi asked.

She
heard the same woman answer, though the words sounded distorted. “It’s more
like a twilight state, Nicodemus.”

“Will
it stop the change?”

Anca’s
brow furrowed, and she parted her lips to speak. She found her mouth too numb
to form words.

“I
don’t know. I’ve never tried to prevent the process before. Always, our kind
has chosen to consume the blood of the pack.”

There
was a note of distress in Demi’s voice. “You have to do something to stop it.
She didn’t get a chance to decide. Already, so much will be thrust upon her…”

“Easy,”
the woman said soothingly. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t know how to stop it.
I’ve never heard of anyone successfully interrupting a transformation.”

“It
isn’t fair to Anca.”

She
wanted to ask what wasn’t fair, but she still couldn’t speak. Their
conversation flowed around her, with some words making sense, while others
seemed foreign. She didn’t know if they slipped back and forth between Corsovan
and English, or if she just couldn’t follow.

“Most
of our people choose to have the ability to transform. Surely, she would have
done so. It is not so bad—“

Demi
made a low sound. “We’ll see how bad it is later tonight, if she transforms and
lives.” His tone turned arctic. “Nikia should die for what she’s done today.”

His
harsh tone of voice and even harsher words sharpened Anca’s attention.

The
woman sighed. “Valdemeer will not do that.”

“Then
I will!” Demi snarled forcefully.

“You
would not harm her, no matter what she did. Your soul is too gentle.”

Anca
tried to force her eyes open and keep her mind on their words, sensing the
conversation was really happening, and wasn’t just a product of her fevered
mind. It seemed important for her to hear every word.

“This
is my lifemate, Ylenia. She could have died. She will most certainly receive
the ability to transform to wolf-form, and that could kill her the first time.
My soul may be gentle,” he said scathingly, “but I’m feeling anything but
gentle right now.”

“I do
understand,” Ylenia said softly, “but now, let your thoughts be on Anca and
helping her, not consumed with vengeance.”

“How
do I help her?”

Anca
appreciated his unhesitating offer, and she tried to thank him. Again, she
found her mouth frozen.

“Your
blood will help the wound heal.”

“How?
She hasn’t lived as one of us—“

“Her
body will know what to do,” Ylenia interrupted. “She isn’t generations removed
from our way of life. She will easily adapt to our ways, when the time comes.”

Anca
felt someone lifting her into a semi-sitting position, and her head spun. Bile
rushed up her throat, and whoever supported her must have realized she was
about to vomit, because they pressed her face into a ceramic chamber pot
seconds before she lost the contents of her stomach.