Read 03 - Evolution for Free Online Page A

alone
understood how hard his brother had fought against the curse.
    But what would become of William now?
    “Marcus!”
    He turned to see Viktor stalking out of the forest,
flanked by a complement of additional Death Dealers. The warlord’s armor
and sword were smeared with lycan blood. His helmet had gone astray
somewhere, exposing a craggy, weathered face. Although immortal, Viktor
resembled a man in his early fifties—the very age at which he had become
a vampire. Pale brown hair, streaked with gray, hung past his shoulders.
He appeared enraged to find Marcus present, in defiance of his
instructions.
    To hell with him! Marcus
thought furiously. The red-haired Elder drew his sword from its
scabbard. He had his own grounds for anger. His voice rang with
betrayal:
    “He was not to be harmed! Place him in my charge as we
agreed, or you will pay for your deceit!”
    A chorus of metallic threats greeted his threat. Looking
around, Marcus was surprised to find himself targeted by dozens of
loaded crossbows. His jaw dropped as he realized belatedly that the
Death Dealers took their orders from one Elder and one Elder alone.
    Viktor.
    “And you will learn your place,” Viktor said sternly.
His voice softened as he strove to reason with the other Elder. “Your
sympathy for this beast is foolish.” He gestured at the captured
werewolf. “Your brother is entirely beyond your control.” Viktor shook
his head. “It will be done my way.”
    Marcus swept his gaze over the weapons arrayed against
him. His face held not a hint of fear. “You know well the consequences
if you murder me… or William.”
    “If you so much as speak his name again,” Viktor warned,
“you will have chosen that future for him yourself.”
    Was he bluffing? Surely he wouldn’t
dare…? Marcus’ blue eyes were ablaze with fury. He scanned the
implacable faces of the Death Dealers, but found no sympathy for his
brother’s plight, nor any trace of the loyalty to which he, Marcus
Corvinus, was entitled. He had no doubt that the warriors would open
fire on him if Viktor commanded it. Turncoats! he thought venomously. He clenched his fists at his side. Traitors!
    He looked to Amelia for support, but found none to be
had. Her beautiful face could have been made of porcelain for all the
emotion it displayed. “There is nothing else to be done, Marcus. In
time, you will understand this.”
    Never! he thought. Not in a thousand years! For a moment, he
contemplated taking arms against the lot of them, Viktor and Amelia
included. After all, he was older and stronger than them both. If he
could just manage to liberate William from his bonds, the two of them
might stand a chance of escaping Viktor and his treacherous jackals.
They could escape into the sheltering wilderness and therein plot their
revenge. I still have my own loyal vassals back at
the castle, he reminded himself. They will
not stand by while I am treated thus. William and I can still reign over
the coven as we were always meant to.
    But, no… this was only a hopeless fancy. The odds against
them were too great. It was two Elders against one, with over a dozen
Death Dealers allied with Viktor as well. And, after his ordeal, William
lacked the strength to retreat, let alone engage in combat against
superior numbers. Although it galled his very soul to admit it, Marcus
realized that this was a fight he could not win. At least not tonight.
    Scowling, he lowered his sword.
    “What is thy will, milord?” he asked, his voice fairly
dripping with sarcasm.
    Viktor chose to ignore the other Elder’s impudent tone.
“Imprisonment for all time,” he decreed. “Far from you.”
    He turned and strode away, confident enough in his
guards to turn his back to Marcus. He gathered his lieutenants to him
and began to make the arrangements for the disposition of the prisoner.
    Hatred smoldered in Marcus’ eyes. Tearing his irate
gaze away from Viktor, he took