Tariq Asenguard had been the wood-carver. Her Tariq. The man she had given her body, heart and soul to. She'd entrusted her niece and her best friend to him. Her brother's throat had been torn out. His blood had been taken. The three men in the bar, the ones that had driven a stake through another man's heart, they had to have believed they killed a vampire.
She touched the soft swell of her breast. His mark. His brand. Just touching with her fingers through the thin material of her blouse caused her sex to clench. Remembering the feel of his bite. The most erotic thing she'd ever experienced. She touched her mouth, remembering it being on his chest.
"Oh. My. God." She whispered it a second time, tasting him in her mouth. On her tongue. Hot. Spicy. Wholly hers. All for her.
The walls around her curved. Went dark. She could only see those blue eyes watching her without blinking. She shivered, the cold seeping into her body. She raised her hand to her throat defensively, unable to look away. Suddenly she was back in the present, looking right into Tariq's eyes. He was only a foot or so from her, watching her carefully.
Charlotte backed away from him, taking a step to the side to try to get an angle on the stairs. "You took my blood." She blurted it out, just like an idiot in a horror film, not playing it all cool and smart.
"Is that a question?"
He didn't sound remorseful. Not in the least. She wanted to glare at him but she was too scared. "Yes." The single word was spoken so low she was surprised it came out of her mouth.
"Yes, I took your blood."
She nodded as if in agreement with him. She took another cautious step toward the stairs, making certain to keep a distance between her and Tariq. He didn't appear to move and the expression on his face never changed, yet he was blocking her escape and his blue eyes were more predatory than ever.
"Charlotte, your heart is beating too fast. Take a deep breath and hear my heart. Let yours slow to the rhythm of mine."
She'd done that before. Her heart had beat in absolute sync with his. She'd thought it was sexy; now she thought she was in real trouble. She tried another step. She deliberately didn't blink, didn't look away, watching him the whole time to see if he moved. He didn't, yet once again he was standing in front of her, blocking her escape route. If she screamed, no one would hear her.
"What are you?" Her voice was low. She couldn't keep the fear out of it.
"What I am not is a vampire. That is what you're thinking and it isn't true. I hunt vampires, but I am Carpathian. My soul is intact and I have never killed while feeding." His gaze didn't waver from hers.
She rubbed her cold arms, her mind racing, trying to figure out her next move without triggering aggression from him. "What are you going to do with me?"
"I already told you that. We have had this conversation, sielamet. You gave yourself to me, and I have made our vows."
Our vows. He had to be referring to the words he'd said in his native language. He'd made vows for both of them. A little hysterical, she tried to picture herself telling Genevieve about how she'd accidently slept with a vampire. Or a vampire hunter. Whatever. Either way, he seemed intent on taking her blood.
"This is so like me," she muttered aloud. "I choose the one man who has been on earth for centuries. He likes mind control and taking blood from people."
"Charlotte."
"Don't." Now she was getting angry. She could feel the surge of her temper building like a volcano inside of her. "You seduced me and you took my blood. Don't bother to lie to me because I remember you doing it now."
"I cannot lie to you. It is impossible. Stop looking for a way out. There is none. You cannot outrun me. Just stay and communicate with me."
He wanted communication? She'd give him communication, although he wasn't going to like her way of talking. She reached down and pulled at one of the crate slats, then snapped back up, swinging the board at his head. He didn't try to sidestep the blow, but his hand came up to deflect and the board shattered into pieces.
Throughout the attack, he didn't change expression. His eyes darkened. Became more predatory than ever. Her heart jerked hard in her chest and she wanted desperately to run, but her feet seemed frozen to the spot.
"Sielamet." He expressed so much with one word. This was a reprimand. A gentle one, but still a reprimand.
"I want to leave." She stuck her chin in the air, wanting him to see that she meant business. She was leaving his property, taking Lourdes and Genevieve with her whether he liked it or not.
"You cannot leave. Our vows were said. Your soul is tied to mine for all time. You will not be able to leave without harming yourself. Already you feel the pull between us. You cannot eat properly. You haven't had anything other than water this evening."
She pressed her fingers against her lips. Every single word coming out of his mouth was the absolute truth. It was also terrifying. "What did you do to me?"
"I am bringing you fully into my world."
Her heart stuttered. Her stomach did a slow, scary somersault. His voice was implacable. She knew his tone warned her not to argue. Her chin went up another fraction of an inch. "Which part of 'I'm not the submissive type' did you not understand?"
He sighed. "You can fight me, sielamet, but it won't do you any good. You know I can protect you from Fridrick and you know I will. I will always stand in front of you should there be a threat. Not only to you, but also to Lourdes. Everything I said to you earlier I meant. You are my woman, and your niece, Danny and the girls, they are my family. A war has started and whether you like it or not, you're involved. Fridrick and his masters targeted you. They went after Emeline, Liv, Amelia and Bella. There were other women down in those tunnels, women who didn't fare very well. We chased them out of there, but they got away. They haven't gone far, because Fridrick would never be so bold without an army behind him."
She shook her head. "I'll take Lourdes and leave. They won't find me."
"They will find you. They'll always find you. Lourdes won't be as important to them as you will be. If you don't cooperate with them they will use her for food, or give her to one of their puppets, like with Liv."
His expression still hadn't changed. He still hadn't blinked. Now she knew what a true predator was. Subconsciously trying to protect herself she wrapped her hand around her throat, covering it. "Why did you take my blood if you aren't a vampire?"
"I am Carpathian, an ancient race. We exist on blood, but we do not kill those we use to feed. We are careful. Respectful. Our prey never know we took their blood."
She winced at the word prey. Somehow she knew he deliberately was being stark, raw, not wrapping what he was in pretty words to mislead her.
"We seem immortal, but we can be killed. We do have longevity and sometimes that is more of a curse than a gift."
Charlotte studied his face. He hadn't taken a step toward her. He hadn't tried to touch her. She knew if he did, he would be able to convince her of anything. That would have made it so much easier. When his hands or mouth were on her, she would have flown to the moon and back with him. So why wasn't he touching her? She almost wanted him to hold her, kiss her, convince her that she didn't want to leave him.
Because she didn't. The idea of being separated from him made her physically ill. "You can't expect me to calmly decide to go along with all this."
"I can and I do. You have genuine feelings for me. I am in your mind, and to make it fair, at any time, you can be in mine." He nodded his head toward the tools neatly laid out on the table. "I suspect your psychic gift is strong, and it involves reading antiques. That was how you realized I am far older than I look."
Was there a faint note of humor in his tone? If there was, it didn't show on his face or in his eyes. His gaze was as watchful as ever. His expression very serious.
"Yes, I saw you carving the horse. You were surrounded by your friends."
His expression changed then and she realized she'd triggered a long-forgotten memory. He looked sad.
"They w
ere giving me a hard time. The Malinov brothers, all five of them, were there that evening. They liked to discuss politics. They didn't always agree with our prince and they wanted debates going all the time. It was tiresome, but that night, they were just having fun. Fridrick was there as well. The prince's lifemate was close to having her first child. A son. He would be the reigning prince one day. It was a time of great joy."
She studied his face. "Why does the memory make you so sad?" She felt his sorrow, felt it like a weight pressing down on her. She had the unexpected urge to go to him and put her arms around him to comfort him. She forced her feet to stay where they were. This entire revelation was far too scary to even consider. She believed every word he said to her.
"That night was a fun night, but later, some years later, it all turned wrong. Terrible. I had never given the carousel to the prince for his son. I hadn't finished it. Work got in the way. I had to chase vampires, and the piece was never finished. Later, when I went back to it, that's when everything went wrong."
Charlotte could feel his anguish, although she wasn't certain he could.
"The Malinovs had a sister, Ivory. A beautiful girl. Everyone loved her, especially the brothers. Ivory was ultimately betrayed by the prince's eldest son, the one I was originally carving the horse for. At that time, there was unrest between human factions and a war broke out. We were interrupted and had to choose sides. Many of my people, including the Malinovs, didn't think we should involve ourselves in the wars of humans. They avoided them other than to feed."
"Like cattle to humans."
A little shudder went through her body at the way he'd put that. Tariq had "fed" from her. She touched the brand on the swell of her breast, and the mark pulsed and throbbed. Instantly, as if connected, her sex matched that strange, hungry beat.
"Sielamet, I do not 'feed' in that way from you. It is erotic and intimate with you. We are meant for each other. My people do not regard your people as cattle. At least, most do not."
She ignored that, not ready to engage him in battle again. Besides, she was curious. "Did something happen to Ivory that night?"
"That first night, when we were having fun, Ivory had not yet been born. Neither was Draven, the prince's eldest, but I think things were set in motion that night. The Malinov brothers argued with the prince, wanting to stay out of the human problems. When he didn't take their advice, they became more and more openly defiant over the years. They mellowed a little after Ivory was born, but the night Ivory was betrayed and she was thought lost to us, all five of the brothers chose to turn vampire. Ruslan, the oldest, led the others, and they followed him straight into hell. And they did so with a plan in place--with a terrible purpose. We are seeing the results of that plan here, in this city, right now."
"And the carousel horse?"
"I finished carving it later. I saved the wood and worked on it over time. The night the Malinovs made their decision to become undead, I had finished it along with the chariots. I was helping train several young men and I wanted the carousel for that purpose. I thought the men I was training too young for battle, but I liked them. I'd assembled the carousel and the horses and chariots were hanging from chains when Ruslan and his brothers came to try to recruit me to their plan."
"To become a vampire?" There was a little squeak to her voice.
"They didn't even suggest that they were considering such a thing. What they did want to do was even worse. They intended to kill the prince and his entire family. It was risking every single Carpathian to do so."
This time, the pain in his voice was too much for her and she took a few steps toward him before she could stop herself. The need to comfort him was so overwhelming she felt sick when she forced herself to stay frozen in place. Taking those few steps had put her in closer proximity, and now, from the anguish in his voice, she could feel the pain radiating off him as if it had been stored up for so long and now the emotional dam was gone and everything was pouring out of him.
"The Malinovs always came up with idiotic schemes to overthrow the prince, but it was mostly for debate. Usually they debated with the De La Cruz brothers, but it was just talk. Just that. At first I thought they weren't serious, but then I could hear the anger and resolve in their voices. I knew they meant it. I knew they planned to assassinate the entire Dubrinsky family. They believed their line was sufficient to take the place of the Dubrinsky line."
Something in the way he revealed the information, the incredulous note in his voice, the absolute shock that anyone would think that, made her realize there was far more to the story than he was telling her. Something was very special about the Dubrinsky lineage for him to have such a reaction. He didn't believe for one moment that the Malinovs could take the Dubrinskys' place; if they did so it would somehow be the downfall of his people.
"What happened?" she prompted when he fell silent.
"They left very angry and I never saw them again as my friends. As Carpathians. Ivory, the one person they lived and cared for, had disappeared and they turned vampire that night. All of them. Deliberately. They didn't wait until it was too late, until there was no hope of finding lifemates and the memories of love and friendship were totally gone."
Her head jerked up and shock took hold, a thousand lightning strikes hitting all at once as realization dawned. She'd heard that word from him often. Lifemate. "Tariq, what does that mean? No hope of finding a lifemate and memories are totally gone. What would that have to do with turning vampire?"
He sighed. "Carpathian males over time lose their ability to see in color and to feel emotion. We're the dark half of the soul and without the light to provide the way, we sink further and further into a gray world of nothing. We hunt the vampire, but it is only our honor that keeps us from joining them. When you cannot feel anything, you look for that one moment when you can. There is a rush when taking blood during a kill and the temptation of feeling at least that. The temptation whispers to you night after night. For centuries. Unrelenting."
She moistened her suddenly dry lips. He hurt and that made her hurt. She didn't know if she was feeling his pain or if it was her own, but he clearly felt the loss of his friends. If the things Tariq had told her were true, he had suffered. "How do you know she's the right one?"
His blue eyes drifted over her face. There was stark possession there. Raw emotion so deep it shook her. "There is only one, Charlotte--she holds the other half of one's soul. She could be in any century. We thought only Carpathian women could be lifemates, and our women had slowly disappeared until we had so few there were no children to bring us hope. The prince found Raven, and she was human. That gave the rest of us the will to continue when we were already long past our endurance."
"What happens when you find your lifemate? How do you know she's the right one? How can you tell?" Because he believed she was his, and she believed he belonged to her. And that was just plain crazy.
"When I heard your voice, I began to feel for the first time in centuries. Real emotions. More, I could see in color. Beautiful colors I hadn't seen in so long I'd forgotten they existed. When I told you I do not see other women, I meant that. My cock reacts only to you. Only for you. My body would never accept another woman. You are my lifemate. My only."
She held his words close, so close they sank into her heart. A little shiver crept down her spine. He lived in a world she could barely imagine.
"I saw you once," he said. "A long time ago. When I was carving the horse. I turned and saw you. Looked right at you. I knew you existed, and I searched for so long. I didn't ever want to think I couldn't find you, but time passed and eventually . . ." He trailed off.
Charlotte couldn't help the small gasp that escaped. She raised her fingers to her lips, pressing hard to keep back the shock of what he'd just revealed. He'd seen her. Far back in time, he'd seen her when she'd entered the tunnel, pulled by the memories in the wood. She put her finger in her mouth and tasted her own blood. Wincing, she removed her finger and rubbed the
injured pad along her thigh.
"Do you have any idea how bizarre and scary everything you've told me is? I only know about vampires through horror films and books. They were fictional. Mythical creatures to scare us at Halloween. Not. Real."
"They are very real, sielamet, and something is going on here that we do not yet understand. Something that involves you, Genevieve and Emeline. We found bodies beneath the cities, women in various stages of pregnancy. We believe the Malinovs are trying to establish their own empire. If they try to turn a woman who is not psychic she will go insane. A psychic woman, however, one with strong gifts, can handle the conversion."
Charlotte really didn't like the sound of that. "Conversion?" Her voice came out high. A mousy squeak.
He nodded, his eyes on her face. "It takes three blood exchanges to bring a gifted human into our world."
She closed her eyes tight. Remembering. His mouth on her. Her mouth on him. That taste bursting in her mouth, addicting, setting up a terrible craving. His words, so gentle, so loving, his language, so sexy and intriguing. This was becoming more and more real. Her brain was finally allowing her to process everything he'd said. It was putting all the pieces together to give her the full picture. Tariq Asenguard was converting her, and eventually she would be the mother of all those children.
"I saw the film The Lost Boys," she warned him.
"I did not see this film." There was mild puzzlement, but the eyes didn't waver.
She took a step back again, once more retreating. "A kick-ass film. Funny and scary. A vampire trying to put together his own family."
"This is not a film, Charlotte. You are my family. My lifemate. The children are lost souls in need of help. I came to their aid because down through the centuries, that's what I've done. What I always have done. I take in the lost and I care for them. If that is not what you want to do, I will stop. But you are mine."
There was finality in those words, and studying his face, she could see there was little wiggle room around his declaration. He believed it absolutely and the scary thing was--so did she. She took another step back, shaking her head. It was too unbelievable. Fridrick murdering Genevieve's boyfriend and her grandmother. Murdering Ricard Beaudet and then Charlotte's brother. Tariq writing to Ricard--such a coincidence. The three men who followed them from Paris. Giving herself to a man she didn't know after years of not allowing anyone to touch her. What was wrong with her that she was being swept down a path there was no returning from? She wasn't that kind of woman.
Dark Carousel Page 16