Fury and Vane nodded in agreement.
Dante looked around as a couple more Katagaria flashed into the room. "Do either of you have any idea why we're here?"
Vane sighed. "I heard it's about a Katagari with trelosa."
Dante sucked his breath in between his teeth. Trelosa was a disease that was somewhat similar to rabies. It was a madness that infected their kind during puberty. No one was sure what caused it. But once in the blood, it consumed the host, making them an indiscriminate killer. There was no known cure. Once a Katagari or Arcadian was determined to have it, then they were hunted down and killed.
"Who's bringing the charge?" Dante asked.
Vane indicated a tall blond man in the corner. "One of the tigers."
Dante studied the man, who was dressed in an expensive tan silk Versace suit. The tiger dripped money and sophistication from every pore.
Dante's gaze narrowed on him. "That's not Lysander." Lysander Stephanos was a dark-haired tiger who was about as surly as anyone Dante had ever met and wouldn't be caught dead in tan anything, unless it was tanned black leather. "Was he replaced as the Tigarian Regis?"
"Oh, hell no," Fury said in a disbelieving tone. "I'd like to meet the tiger with the balls and skill to take down Lysander. That boy eats bear for breakfast."
"Better bear than panther," Dante said with a sinister laugh.
Vane rolled his eyes. "That one is named Zack. He's waiting for Lysander to show, but apparently Sander isn't as convinced of the charge as Zack is."
"Why do you say that?"
"If Sander thought his claim had merit, I doubt Zack would be here."
That made sense to Dante. As was typical among the tiger species, Lysander was very solitary and didn't like anyone or anything treading on his space. "Then who's backing him?"
"I'm not sure," Vane said, "but it should be interesting."
Dante hoped so. There was nothing worse than a boring meeting.
A bright light flashed, making Dante flinch as Lysander appeared on the far side of the room. Dressed in loose black Indian silk pants and a long sleeveless black vest that was heavily embroidered in gold, the tiger was bare from the waist up. His entire right shoulder and bicep were covered with a colorful tattoo of a heart pierced by a sword. His black wavy hair fell haphazardly around his face.
The blond tiger sneered as he saw Lysander's unorthodox appearance. "Fresh from the jungle?"
Lysander narrowed his gaze threateningly on the shorter tiger. "Don't fuck with me, hijda. I only like human form, for one thing, and since I'm not attracted to men, I'm not happy about being here."
Dante exchanged an amused look with Vane, who had been right about Lysander not backing the other tiger. He particularly liked the Hindi insult to the tiger's manhood that had gone over his head.
Lysander pushed past the tiger to take a seat at the large round table, but it was obvious he was as anxious to leave as the rest of them.
No sooner had Dante turned away than something flashed just to his right. Dante watched as Damos Kattalakis appeared a few feet away from them. Damos was an Arcadian Drakos. The dragon was dressed in medieval armor, which made sense, since most of the dragons lived in the past where open fields and unchartered regions made it easy for them to hide from the humans.
Like Fury and Vane, Damos was a direct descendant of the royal brothers whose father had magically created their races.
Damos inclined his head to them. "Wolves. Panther."
"Dragon," Dante said, but he didn't offer his hand to Damos. With the exception of his wife and Vane a few seconds ago, Dante never touched an Arcadian by choice.
Damos seemed amused as he held his hand out to Vane. "Good to see you again, Cousin."
"You as well," Vane said, shaking his hand.
While Damos shook Fury's hand, the other nine Arcadians flashed into the room and took their seats at the large round table without acknowledging any of the Katagaria.
Dante tsked at their actions. "Look at the scared little children. I'm surprised they had the balls to show before Savitar was here to protect them."
"Who says I'm not here?"
Dante jerked his head at the deep, lightly accented voice behind him. Standing at six feet eight, Savitar was an imposing sight. Not that Dante was afraid of him, but he did have a hefty amount of respect for the ancient being.
There was a mutual gleam of respect in Savitar's black eyes. His long dark brown hair brushed his shoulders, and his skin tone was as dark as Dante's Italian complexion. Savitar wore a small, well-trimmed goatee. No one was sure of Savitar's heritage, but he could easily pass for either Spanish, Italian, or even Arabian.
As always, he was dressed in a long, dark blue flowing robe that reminded Dante of an ancient Egyptian design. But what stood out was the pair of dark brown Birkenstocks on his feet.
"Let me guess," Dante said with a laugh. "The big one is due in on the north shore?"
"Yes." Savitar's tone was deadly earnest. "So let's make this quick. I have a board, a wave, and a babe with my name on them and I would like to take advantage of all three."
Savitar left their side.
"Animals. People," he said as he strode through the room with a gait that announced him as the very top of this food chain. "Cop a squat."
Dante grimaced at Savitar's choice of words. He really hated that expression.
Constantine, an Arcadian jackal, sneered at Savitar, which was a very bad move. "We don't listen to-"
His words were cut off instantly as Savitar waved his hand in the jackal's direction. The jackal began gasping for breath as if an invisible hand was choking him.
"You're a new little punk," Savitar said in a sinister tone as he neared the Were-Jackal. Savitar narrowed his eyes on him. "You'll learn."
The jackal sat immediately... as did the others. The poor animal continued to wheeze as he rubbed his bruised throat.
Dante was a little more leisurely, but even he knew better than to test Savitar's extremely limited patience. Savitar's powers made a mockery of every creature here.