“I love your tattoo, Isai,” she informed him. “It’s beautiful. All the other writings on you? What are they?”
“Silliness on my part,” he said hastily. “And for another day.”
“Which only makes me more curious.”
He sent her a small grin. “We really have to get after Iulian. We do not want any member of your family to find him ahead of us.”
“Anatolie has said he will send Barnabas.” All playfulness was wiped from her face and tone. There was fear there, although she tried to hide it from him.
“I hope Barnabas does come,” Isai admitted freely. “I wish to meet this man.”
She gave a delicate little shudder and wrapped her arms around herself. “No, believe me, you do not. He appears to be quite the virtuous gentleman. Very scholarly. In fact, he’s almost beatific, but I can assure you, he’s the devil himself.”
“He is still Anatolie’s puppet, Julija,” he pointed out, keeping his voice deliberately mild. Every instinct told him to hold her, but her expression was too still. Too frightened.
“Please don’t underestimate him, Isai. Please, when you meet him, and you will, don’t fall under his spell. He’s very good at fooling people. I’m not easy. I see through illusions as a rule. He made me doubt myself.”
“That was his purpose, sívamet. That doesn’t make him more powerful than you. It makes him cunning. You also have to remember, you were set up beautifully. Your father went so far as to include your brothers in that class. Had he not, you might have been much warier, but the fact that he wanted all three of you to take the class caught you off guard.”
She rinsed her hair one more time, more he knew to give herself time and separate herself from the conversation than because her hair needed it. Anytime Barnabas came into the conversation, she retreated. Isai would have to find a way around that.
“You said there was one more thing. I said two and you answered my questions,” Julija said as she once more sat across from him. “What was important to discuss before we go find that book?”
He nodded, studying her face. She was still holding herself very stiff. He shrugged. “We can talk about it later.”
She shook her head. “Not if it matters to you.”
“It matters,” he admitted. “I think it is very important.”
“I’m listening.”
He saw that she was. “As a rule, Carpathians do not scar.” He plunged right in. “The wounds must be deep for that to happen, but I have scars everywhere. I have lived a long time and been wounded countless times. Some were wounds that would have killed others. I survived, but those times remain on my body. Do you mind the scars?” he challenged. “I need you to tell me the truth. Do you find them abhorrent to look at?”
She looked shocked. “No. Absolutely not. They’re part of you. Part of who you are. Your past shapes you, Isai. You might not think so because you didn’t feel anything at the time, but your emotions were there, buried deep, and you were affected by every single thing that happened. If you weren’t, you would never have entered that monastery. Why would you think that? Have I done something to make you think I can’t look at your scars?”
“You seem to think your own scars are so repugnant that you need illusion to keep me or anyone else from seeing them.”
She had half risen out of the water, but she sat back so that the water rocked back and forth in the small basin. “It’s different.”
Isai studied her face. Color had swept under her skin, leaving her naturally pale face a delicate rose. “Why? I do not understand. Those scars are part of you and your past, the past that shaped you, just as mine are a part of me. What would be different?”
She was silent a moment, flicking her fingers in the water so little drops shot in an arcing bridge from her side of the pool to his, almost as if she was flicking him away, or at least his words. She was so close he could have reached out and touched her, given her the comfort she so obviously needed, but he knew she would have rejected him, so he stayed very still. Waiting. Forcing her to think about it. Put her reasoning into words. It took longer than he anticipated.
“I didn’t get these scars the way you got yours, fighting valiantly to save the world. I got them in a vile, demeaning way. Strung up by my wrists.” She rubbed them as though they still hurt. “In front of his class, whipped until I was bleeding from deep wounds, deep enough to cause scars. At the same time my body was being forced into enjoying sex. It was humiliating. I can barely stand to look at those memories let alone know they’re etched into my body.”
“Julija,” he said softly. Reprimanding her. “You do not think you earned every scar? That you were not valiantly fighting in your way to save the innocents they wanted you to murder? Your father set you up deliberately to be torn down by Barnabas. When you did not break, they took it further, hurting you, humiliating you, and you still did not break. I would say each and every scar you received is a badge proclaiming your unbelievable courage. You should rejoice in them. I would. I know, when you allow me to see them, I will worship these scars, knowing you held out against the dark arts trying to manipulate you. Few can say that, Julija. Very few.”
“Did you hear me say they used my own body against me?” she murmured softly, her gaze not meeting his.
He remained silent, waiting until she had no choice but to look at him. There was so much pain in her eyes he winced. “I heard. That makes what you did even more courageous. They did not defeat you. Barnabas getting your body to react doesn’t mean anything more than he was skilled at what he did. He wasn’t strong enough to break you. Wear your scars with pride, sívamet. Your courage humbles me. Believe me, if you allow your lifemate to see them, I will love every inch of you, but those scars will be sacred to me.”
Isai meant every word and he wanted her to know that he did. He caught her chin and looked her in the eye. “Come into my mind,” he invited softly. “See how much I admire and respect my lifemate.”
She hesitated just for a moment, and then, her eyes staring into his, he felt her pouring into his mind. She came gently, a hesitant presence, filling him with her feminine beauty. She filled the darkness in him with light.
He savored the feeling of her. The way she was inside, all that strength and power, tempered with compassion and empathy. There was no greed in her. No need to use her gifts for herself. She didn’t have selfish thoughts about acquiring wealth. She didn’t want to harm others. She definitely wanted to reacquire the spell book, but not for her own gain. She knew quite a bit about the book, more than he thought most Carpathians, including the prince, knew.
He opened his mind to her a little further. He was dark and shadowed, but her light spilled inside him, warmed those cold places and took every vestige of loneliness from him. He didn’t try to hide from her. He had admitted to being a killing machine. He had vast knowledge in most subjects, but he had learned in an effort to be a better hunter. She would either accept him as he was, or she wouldn’t.
He felt her moving through his memories. Lingering over some, hastily retreating from others. He knew the moment she found the memories in the monastery. She stayed there for far too long, but those times were the ones where he had sent every message into the universe, unashamedly begging for his woman to be in this time period but feeling there was little hope.
He had, like the others, times over those long years of being too close to the demon, but his brethren had stood with him. Chanting. Olen wäkeva—félért ku vigyázak. Hours of chanting. Stay strong for her. She had saved him over and over. So many times. Julija had saved his honor.
She left him after a long while and when he looked at her face, tears tracked down her cheeks. Her lashes were wet and dripped diamond-like tears. He reached out tentatively, but she didn’t flinch, so he touched her face gently, following the path with the pads of his fingers.
“Sívamet. Do not cry for me. You are worth every moment I spent alone.”
Julija shook her head and p
ressed her fingers to her lips. “I can’t believe that’s what you think of me. I’m not like that at all.”
“You are. I see you more clearly than anyone else ever could. I am in your mind. I know you better than you know yourself. I will never look at you another way. You’re perfect to me.”
“I have a really bad temper,” she confessed.
He smiled at her. “I like your temper. I am not a man who would go through life with a woman who always told me yes. I enjoy putting her over my knee, remember?”
She wiped at the tears running down her face and then laughed, just as he hoped she would. “I’m quite capable of turning you into a toad.”
“And you would take great pleasure in it.”
“I would,” she admitted without hesitation.
Isai deliberately floated from the pool to the chamber floor, dried himself off and clothed himself. He didn’t help her. He waited, both cats circling his legs.
“You did that on purpose. You’re such a show-off.”
He smirked and rubbed Belle’s head. “You can do the same.”
“You could just help me out and do it for me.” She looked all around the pool as if it would give her answers on how to float out.
“I could, but what would be the fun in that? Try.”
“I have to know what I’m doing before I can try,” Julija said. “Instructions would be helpful.”
“I suppose that’s true,” he conceded. “But not nearly as much fun for me.”
He folded his arms across his chest and waited in silence as she walked around the pool and then looked up at him. There was determination on her face, exactly what he had hoped for.
“You have been doing this kind of thing since you were a child.”
“They were illusions.”
“Julija.” He said her name gently in reprimand. “They were not. I call you odam wäke emni because you truly are mistress of illusion in the mage world. So much so that your own father, rather than encourage you and want you to be the best at it, downplayed your ability. Who are you going to believe? Your father? Or me? It all starts in your mind. You know that. You have power beyond your imagining. Use it.”
He kept his arms folded and his expression implacable and just looked at her. He thought she made some very foul gesture under the water, but he couldn’t be certain. The thought made him want to smile, but he refused to give in, even to humor.
Julija walked around the perimeter inside of the pool for a second time and then stood in the exact center. She raised her arms.
I call to the element of air, surround me.
I call to the element of light, transport me.
Lift me up like a feather high,
Transporting me to the floor within my sight.
She rose easily and ended up on the floor right in front of him. She flung her arms around him and hugged, rubbing her wet body all over his dry clothes like a cat, and then she sprang away laughing. He caught her arm before she could get away from him.
“Show me.”
The smile died instantly, and she gave a half shake of her head. “Isai.” It was cautionary.
“Show me.”
She turned back to him, almost defiantly, her arms sliding down the sides of her body as if she was disrobing. Instantly he could see the white slashes dissecting her flesh along the curves of her breasts and down her stomach. There were more on her thighs. She turned around and showed him her back, buttocks and upper thighs. There were no raised ridges, only those white and sometimes red lines, some wide, others narrow. All bit deep.
He ran his hand down the curve of her back. “Never hide these, Julija. I will not hide mine. You are infinitely beautiful. Not just to me, but to anyone who sees you. You know I do not lie to you.”
“I don’t know what to do with you when you say things like that.”
Isai gave her a faint smile. “Give me my way in all things.”
She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t cover the scars with illusion. “I suppose you want me to dry myself off and clothe myself.”
“I do not mind you walking naked with me, but I doubt we will get very far. I like looking too much and my body reacts when I do.” He was very honest.
Her eyes dropped low on him. “I see that.”
She took her time to once again lift her arms, this time a little sultrily, but there was no shame in facing him with her true body, scars and all.
Air encircle me, blow me dry.
Cloths of cotton, weave and tie,
Allowing me to stay warm and dry.
She gave him a faint, triumphant grin. “I’m ready to go, although I really do like this little cave.”
“We’ll close it up and come back when we are able,” he assured.
He signaled to the cats and led the way over to the stone where the thin crack was. He slid through without hesitation. The cats followed him. It took several minutes, but his woman emerged right beside him, a large grin on her face.
“How do you feel about flying?”
9
The world looked very different when one was soaring through the air in the middle of the night. Julija found herself laughing, elated, exhilarated. I love this.
Pay attention to what you are doing, kislány hän ku meke sarnaakmet minan. Stay focused.
Was there panic in his voice? Julija thought there might be and that made her laugh all over again. The stars were brighter this far up. Everything below her seemed very small. The cats were running flat out on the rocks below, Carpathian blood calling to them. They would find Julija and Isai before dawn when Isai found a place for them all. In the meantime, she could do a few crazy tricks, like try to do somersaults in the air.
Julija. You will behave yourself. Pay attention. Do you have any idea of all the things that could go wrong?
I want to kiss you right now. She did. Kissing him sounded wonderful. Completing. That was exactly what she needed to make flying the best thing that ever was. She thought about his face. The lines etched deep. The strong jaw. Aristocratic nose. That long hair, pulled back in his braid with cords tying it every few inches. Always neat. Never ruffled. She laughed all over again. Your feathers seem a little ruffled now. Her laughter grew. That was true—and funny.
The larger owl dropped down to cover the female with one widespread wing. I think you have truly lost your mind, woman. Stop laughing.
There was no stopping, not when she was this happy. Are you crazy? This is—wonderful. Perfection. I can’t believe how flying feels. I could do this all night.
It is your first time, sívamet. There was a hint of a smile coming through the panic along with resignation. You will tire easily. Please keep your mind focused on what you are doing. If you lose the image, even for a moment, you will fall from the sky.
She knew that, and it should have scared her, but it didn’t. She’d always had the ability to give details her full attention. She was aware of everything around her. She’d had to be. Her father was very exacting of all of them, but of her in particular. Her stepmother was very cruel; knowing where she was in the house at all times had saved Julija from many beatings. She wasn’t going to think about her. Nothing was going to mar her enjoyment of flying through the air on silent wings.
Stay with me. Your owl has excellent hearing and vision. We are looking for Iulian’s trail. I was searching for him when I discovered you. I tried reaching out to him, but he didn’t answer. Neither, when the theft was first discovered, did he answer the prince, Gregori or Tariq.
I felt him up until about forty-eight hours ago. He felt . . . sad. Very sad. His sorrow weighed him down.
You said you connected with him when he was with his lifemate.
She was very tired. She must have been in her eighties or nineties and alone in a nursing home. He held her until she passed.
Isai was silent for so long she was becoming alarmed. In the body of the owl she twisted her neck, although the eyes could see his owl very clearly.
What are you thinking, Isai?
The entire time he was close to you, you could connect with him?
Yes. I felt his emotions, even though he could not. She settled into a pattern, flying close to him, allowing the larger bird to keep her nearly beneath his wing.
Was that common for you? Feeling the emotions of others?
Automatically, her owl observed everything going on below her. For the most part, there was little movement of humans or even mages on the vast acreage laid out below them. Twice she’d seen hikers, but when Isai had dropped low to ensure they were truly hikers, both times they’d been legitimate.
To feel others’ emotions, yes. To connect so strongly with a Carpathian male? No. That was the first time and it was extremely strong. I was shocked that he didn’t seem aware of it.
You were behind him by several days and yet you were able to pick up his trail again once you were here in Yosemite?
Yes. The pull was extreme again. There was no getting away from it. He was broadcasting sorrow so deep, at times all I could do was weep for him. That was the truth as well. His brother, Iulian, had moved her beyond all self-centered thoughts. Beyond anything. His sorrow was that deep.
Then suddenly that trail abruptly ended?
Again, she twisted her neck to look at him. His voice had been pitched exactly the same, but she listened for any little inflection. Something was off. He was going somewhere with his inquiry, not just trying to find a detail she missed.
I don’t believe he was selfishly looking to keep the book. It didn’t feel that way to me at all. What are you thinking?
The same thing you are. He took the book to protect it. He had to have had a plan. My blood calls to his, yet it goes unanswered. The book was sealed with the blood of sacrifice. To keep that blood sacrifice from calling to any member of the high mage’s family— He broke off.
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