Christine Feehan: Dark Wolf

Skyler couldn’t tell if he was going to behave or not. It was impossible with Josef. He marched to his own drum. She sent up a silent prayer, hoping for the best.

Right now, Francesca and Gabriel were probably awake and would soon be preparing to fly to the Carpathian Mountains. They thought she was a continent away, safe with her human college friend Maria, using her vacation to help build homes and run irrigation to farmers in South America. She had never lied to them before. Not once. And it hurt her to do it now, but there was no other way.

She knew her parents had been summoned to the huge meeting between Lycan and Carpathian to discuss an alliance between the two species. Most of the Carpathians had been called home. Gabriel and Francesca had been more than happy to receive a call from her from school asking to go with Maria. They didn’t want her anywhere near the Carpathian Mountains.

She would never think of repaying their extraordinary kindness, the love they had given her from the moment she’d been taken into their home, with lies and betrayal—not for anything or anyone except Dimitri. Dimitri Tirunul was her unexpected miracle. A man beyond any she’d ever dreamt of. She was human. He was Carpathian—nearly immortal. She was nineteen years old. He was an ancient, centuries old. She held the other half of his soul, the light to his darkness. Without her, he would not survive. She was his lifemate—his savior. Yet she knew just the opposite was true—Dimitri was the one saving her.

He knew she was his lifemate when she was just a child, and he had given her time. Space. Unconditional love. He never demanded anything of her. He never told her how difficult it was for him—that she was his salvation—just out of his reach. He had always been there for her, in the middle of the night, when her violent past was too close and she couldn’t sleep, when nightmares haunted her to the point she couldn’t breathe. He was there, in her mind, holding all those terrifying memories at bay. Dimitri. Her Dimitri.

Dimitri was caught in the middle between the two species. The Lycans had taken him and planned to kill him. No one had gone after him to save him. He had spent centuries hunting the undead to keep his people as well as humans safe. He had survived honorably when others had chosen to give up their souls. Yet there was no rescue party. No hunters were rushing to save him. He was badly injured. She felt that much before he cut himself off from her to protect her from his pain—or his death.

Dimitri was stoic about life or death. He was a Carpathian hunter and he’d been around for centuries, protecting innocents from vampires. Her lineage was complicated, but for all intents and purposes, she was human. The Lycans would never expect a teenage, human girl to mount a rescue operation for a Carpathian. She had the element of surprise on her side. That, as well as good, trustworthy friends and her very powerful but untested abilities.

Skyler had faith in herself. She knew her every strength and every weakness. Like Josef, she was extremely intelligent and most of the time underestimated. She believed the Lycans would underestimate her—she was counting on it.

No one would start a war over a Carpathian hunter it seemed, but she knew her father would come after her, and if anyone harmed one hair on her head, the Lycan world would be in for a nightmare it couldn’t possibly conceive. Not only would Gabriel come after her, but so would her uncle Lucian. She was fairly certain her biological father, Razvan, and his lifemate, Ivory, would join the hunt for her. They were extremely lethal as well. There was satisfaction in knowing if she was injured or killed, she would be avenged. No one, not even Mikhail Dubrinsky, the prince of the Carpathian people, would be able to stop a war if the Lycans harmed her.

She lifted her chin. Dimitri would never leave her in danger. He would rush to her side the moment he knew there was trouble; he had—more than once—just to soothe bad dreams when she had too many in a row. She couldn’t do less for him.

Holding her breath, she turned back to watch the official gingerly open the coffin. It creaked ominously. Hideously. Just like in the movies. The sound sent a chill down her spine. The lid rose slowly and darn Josef anyway, it looked as if it was lifting all by itself. Varga stepped back, one hand going up defensively.

There was silence as the lid came to a stop. Nothing moved. She could hear the sound of a clock ticking loudly. Varga coughed nervously. He glanced at her. Skyler put her hand over her mouth and lowered her eyes.

Josef! Behave yourself. Skyler was somewhere between laughing and crying with nervous tension.

Varga stepped back to the coffin and peered in, beads of sweat visible on his forehead. He cleared his throat. “He certainly looks robust for a man who starved himself to death.”

The least you could have done was make yourself look emaciated if you wanted him to believe your preposterous story, she scolded.

Skyler pressed a handkerchief to her mouth. “They did such a good job at the funeral home. I particularly asked them to make certain he looked good for our mother.”

Varga pressed his lips together and studied the body. He was suspicious, but she wasn’t certain of what. Clearly there was a dead body in the coffin. Did he suspect her of running drugs? Guns? If so, that didn’t bode well for what she had planned. She needed to look like a naïve, young teenager who might be slightly ditzy.

She held her breath as he reached for the lid of the coffin and slowly closed it.

“Is someone coming for you?” Varga asked as he locked the coffin lid and glanced at his watch. “I can’t stay. You were the last plane coming in.”

“My brother’s friend arranged for a truck to pick us up. He’ll be here any minute,” Skyler assured him solemnly. “Thank you so much for all your help.”

“You can wait in here,” Varga said in a kind voice. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours and lock up.” He looked around the dilapidated building. It was nothing more than four metal walls, mostly rusted, some so badly there were holes. “Not that there’s much to lock up.” He glanced again at his watch. “I would wait with you, but I have another job to go to.”

She sent him a wan smile. “It’s all right. Really. He’ll be here any minute.”

Varga gave her one last look and exited the rickety building, leaving her there alone with the locked coffin. Skyler waited until she saw his car drive off and the lights disappear completely down the road. She took a careful look around. She appeared to be alone.

“Josef, you can quit playing dead,” Skyler said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She banged on the coffin lid with her fist. “Died of a broken heart? Really? You couldn’t think of anything else, anything, say, more realistic?”

The lid of the coffin opened with the same series of ominous, horror film creaks he’d used when Varga had opened the lid. There was silence. Skyler’s heart beat steadily. She leaned over the coffin and glared at the young man who lay as if dead, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. His skin was pale porcelain and his black spiky hair with the dyed blue tips stood out starkly against the white backdrop.

“You look amazingly robust for a man who starved himself to death,” she said sarcastically, mimicking the official. “You could have blown everything with your absurd story.”

Josef’s eyes snapped open dramatically. He faked an accent as he slowly sat up. “I could use a drop of blood or two, my dear.”

She smacked him over the head with her papers. “The customs official didn’t believe I was twenty-five.”

Josef flashed a cocky grin. “You’re not. You’re barely nineteen, and when Gabriel and Lucian find out what we’ve done, we’re both going to be in more trouble than either of us has ever known.” He paused, the smile fading from his mouth. “And I’ve been in a lot of trouble.”