Gregori nodded in understanding. “You suspect a mass shadowing?”
She pressed her lips together hard, her heart stuttering again, reliving that moment when she was quite certain who had placed the shadow in Damon’s brain. She nodded slowly, frowning a little. “Who else, Gregori? Who could do such a thing? If not Xavier, then one or both brothers have to still be alive.” Her voice quivered. She couldn’t help it.
“And when you checked?” Gregori gentled his voice.
“It was as I feared. Xaviero.”
Tatijana gasped and covered her mouth. She shook her head.
Branislava nodded. “It was, Tatijana. There is no mistaking his signature. He’s alive, and he’s infiltrated the ranks of the Lycans. Like Xavier, he is working to destroy anyone who might oppose his power.”
Zev swore softly. “How could he manage it and none of us know?”
“I lived among the packs for centuries,” Fen pointed out. “And I have mixed blood. I simply went to ground during the time of the full moon to avoid detection.”
“He would be old and very respected,” Branislava said. “He would demand devotion. Admiration. There is no way that he has stopped killing. He’s addicted to it and enjoys it far too much, but he has discipline. He would torture and kill far from where he operates.”
Zev shook his head. “There’s no one like that.”
“Yes there is,” she insisted. “He’s out in the open, living and moving among you. Don’t look for a killer. He’ll appear kind and benevolent. He’ll blend in seamlessly with Lycans. He will have followers and they’ll love him, almost to the point of worshipping him.”
Zev frowned and rubbed his hand down his face as if wiping away the first image in order to try to replace it with the second. “You’re describing half the leaders of the Sacred Circle as well as a few council members. It could be anyone, Branka.”
“He’ll need a laboratory for making his soldiers. And he has access to Carpathian blood.” Branislava’s breath caught in her throat and she closed her mouth abruptly before her next thought could spill out.
What is it? Tell me.
Zev’s voice turned her heart over. So gentle and caring. She would break his heart if what she suspected was true. She shook her head.
Mon chaton féroce. If what you suspect is the truth, it will come out eventually. Better to get it over with now.
When Zev spoke in that French accent, his voice smooth, like velvet, she couldn’t help but react to it.
Someone discovered your grandmother was mixed blood. They had to know she was Carpathian born. If Xaviero knew, he could have ordered her death. He would have access to her blood, the very blood all three brothers had searched for.
“Tell us,” Mikhail said gently. “We need to know everything, including what you only suspect. Without all information, we can’t make an intelligent decision.”
Branislava’s gaze clung to Zev’s. Her logic was reasonable, though, and she knew it. Xaviero was alive. No one else would leave that same shadow behind. His signature had always been distinct. He had to have lived among the Lycans, infiltrating and becoming someone of importance. He would use his position to set up a network of spies. Those spies would keep him informed of every detail.
“Zev’s grandmother was the child of the Dark Bloods. The last lifemated pair. They ran across the trail of the Sange rau destroying the Lycan packs systematically and of course they tried to help. When they were killed, Lycan survivors coming across their bodies and finding an infant believed she was Lycan. They took her with them to raise her.”
“And Xaviero found out,” Mikhail finished.
Branislava nodded. She held her hands out in front of her as if she could protect herself from the truth. “I believe that’s what happened. It makes sense. Xavier wanted Dark Blood more than anything else, but he never found what he was looking for. Tatijana and I thought it was a type of blood that could harm others, not a lineage.”
“Could Xaviero have had anything to do with the first Sange rau?” Zev asked. “The one responsible for killing so many?”
“I doubt it,” Mikhail said. “But certainly Xaviero would have thought he’d stumbled across a gold mine. The very thing he needed to bring down Carpathians and Lycans alike. His problem was the sacred code was written by the council, and Lycans avoided Carpathians. He didn’t have an opportunity to access Carpathian blood.”
“Until my grandmother grew up and someone reported to him something they found suspicious about her,” Zev ventured.
Branislava nodded. “They were so good at gathering information. They used animals, humans, every species available, and they got results. If she made a mistake, believe me when I say Xaviero would have been informed.”
“She was raised Lycan,” Gregori pointed out. “She probably didn’t even know she was Carpathian. When others shifted, she did as well, not realizing she wasn’t shifting the same way. She was a Dark Blood and she would have hunted and fought alongside her husband. She probably was given Lycan blood when she was wounded, and eventually she became a mixed blood.”
“So he watched her.” Mikhail pieced more of the puzzle together. “Xaviero watched her closely and he realized what she had to be. He wanted her blood and he couldn’t chance that she was faster, stronger, and more intelligent and would defeat him. He whipped up a mob against her, probably to have her brought before the council, but they murdered her. He must have taken her blood to his lab and kept it to experiment with.”
“Her husband took their child and ran,” Zev said. “He would have gone far away and joined a different pack, probably in another country. He would have changed his name. That’s what I would have done to protect my daughter.”
“Did you meet your grandfather? Know him at all?” Mikhail asked.
Zev nodded. “He was very quiet and he spent most of his time hunting. I was pretty young. My mother died in childbirth, and my father said her father rarely came around after that. I saw him a couple of times and then one day he never came back.”
“When you say ‘hunting,’” Fen asked, “who or what was he hunting?”
Zev shrugged. “My father said he hunted down the men who killed his wife, one by one, at least that’s what he thought my grandfather was doing.” I would understand if he did, he added to Branislava.