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by Christine Feehan


  Alycrome told us no man had the right to take over another unless it was self-defense, survival, or saving the life of another. Putting a shadow of one's self into another is a form of aggression. A strike to take over that person and render them a puppet to one's will.

  Tariq's arms pulled Charlotte closer as she shuddered against him. He had wondered how Vadim kept the human psychics from being complete puppets, needing flesh and blood to survive, yet still kept them under his control. Splinters. Vadim was using splinters of himself, small shadowy leeches to slip into and feed on the host. Vadim could control thoughts subtly that way. The more inclined the host was to carry out orders, the easier it was for Vadim to take control. He was smart enough to offer each human in his army whatever that man desired most. Tariq sent the information to the others so they would know what they were facing in Vadim's human army.

  The thing one has got to remember about splinters, sisarke, but everyone chooses over the centuries to forget, is what they do to the kuly who is so peje ignorant as to use it, Dragomir continued.

  Sisarke is little sister and kuly is literally a worm, a demon devouring souls. Peje is burn or in your language it would be fuck. A very bad term. Vadim is nothing more than a worm, Charlotte, and we will rid you of him for all time. Tariq spoke gently, holding her light in that circle he'd made to ensure she didn't slip away.

  She was no longer fighting to get free; she lay very still, allowing his blood to work through her system, removing all traces of the human she had been and reshaping her as Carpathian. On some level she was aware, very aware, of the spirits of the men inside her body, helping to heal her even as they worked. She was listening, and it was helping to combat the pain and fear of conversion.

  Alycrome impressed on all those who would listen that each splinter taken from the creator was a piece of him gone, diminishing him, Dragomir said. Xavier didn't care to listen. He spent his time learning every dark spell without learning the repercussions of them.

  He thought he was above consequences. He thought himself smarter than his father. That was Siv. Ah. Now I see it. The worm. A little fishtail causing such trouble. Do not worry, sisarke; this will be no problem for your lifemate and the three of us. Give yourself up to him while we dispose of this kuly.

  Tariq was very aware of the shadowy fishlike wiggling splinter buried deep in Charlotte's rib. He could see the tail of it writhing under the combined powerful lights of the three ancients. He had missed Alycrome's teaching by only a few short years. Xavier had risen as head mage after the death of his father, and Tariq had studied under him. Xavier certainly hadn't taught any of them that using a splinter would diminish the creator.

  Siv and Val moved abruptly, joining Dragomir, so that there was only one powerful beam, the energy from all three ancients concentrated in one hot blast as they poured light over the worm. The tail began to smoke. The worm wiggled hard, surging back and forth, the bone a trap now rather than a haven.

  The three ancients refused to let up, pouring white-hot energy onto the tail of the splintery shadow. Charlotte gasped and arched her back, half sitting, the soil falling around them like a shower.

  Tariq covered her face and wrapped his body around hers, blanketing her, holding her in place. She feels that.

  It is Vadim attacking, Siv said. He feels that heat. This splinter is part of him. It burns. And where it burns is in his brain.

  The shadow thrust forward, trying to penetrate deeper into the bone. It couldn't burrow fast enough, so it tried backing out. The tail began to curl into blackened ash. Frantic, the shadowy parasite flung itself sideways, crashing into the bone over and over with hard, short bursts of power to either side.

  A flash of crushing pain told Tariq and the others forming the circle that Vadim had broken the rib, but not punched through the bone to escape as he intended.

  "She can't take that," Blaze whispered aloud. "She's too far gone." She wrapped her fingers tightly around Liv and pushed the child's head against her thigh. "Tariq, stop them."

  If he stopped them, it would give the splinter time to consume her red blood cells and perhaps find another place to settle where they might not find it. Charlotte detested having the thing inside her.

  I'm with you, sielamet. Right here. They are destroying the splinter, and he's fighting back. Stay with me. I need you here with me. He murmured the words into her mind, but more, he pushed feeling there. Poured himself there. Filled her with him.

  She moved then; her spirit moved against the circle he'd formed, but to his astonishment, it moved forward, back toward her body and away from the waiting shadows holding the tree of life.

  Remove him. I don't care about the pain. Get him out of me. Each word was distinct. Faint, but distinct. Charlotte wanted Vadim gone from her and she gave her consent to the three ancients to do what was necessary.

  She settled into him, her spirit sliding up against his. Merging with his.

  "Tariq, you have to stop this," Blaze reiterated. "She's too weak."

  There was a moment of silence. A breath. An inhalation and exhalation collectively so that it was heard throughout the basement.

  Your woman, your call, Dragomir said.

  Against him, Charlotte's body shuddered in pain. Her eyes fluttered, lashes opening just barely. There was a plea there. More, there was absolute trust.

  Get him out of her. Now. Tariq knew his woman. She was a fighter, a woman of courage. Charlotte would want this even more than he did. Vadim had no place in their world, their sanctuary.

  Charlotte tried hard to rise above the pain. She could see it etched into Tariq's face, and she knew it was very, very bad, far worse than she felt, and she definitely felt it. Still, with all of them shouldering most of the pain, she knew even the children could take it and that gave her comfort. If they added more Carpathians, would that take even more pain away from Bella and Lourdes? From Liv, Amelia and Danny? Because they had to be converted. She knew that with the same certainty as every single Carpathian in the room.

  First and foremost there was Liv. She was connected to all of them through Val. He'd forged that path to save her, but now all of them could see what had been done to her. The puppet tearing into her flesh with savage teeth. The noises of him gulping her blood. The burn of Vadim's blood as he forced it into her--the horror and terror of taking the vampire's blood.

  At night, in her sleep, if she dared to sleep, the vampire came to her and whispered demands. He wanted her to kill her sisters and brother. To kill Tariq. He told her how to kill him. He told her what he would do to her if she didn't obey him. It was no wonder the child looked so haunted. More, if he whispered those commands to Liv, what was he demanding of Emeline? The trauma had taken its toll on Liv. She planned to end her life if Tariq wouldn't convert her. She was convinced she would eventually go crazy and hurt her family.

  I will never let that happen, sielamet. She is watched day and night.

  You have to convert her. Like this. With everyone helping. This is why Emeline wanted her here, so she could see and feel how it is done. There was no other explanation. Emeline could see into the future through her dreams. If she wanted Liv there, it was for a singular purpose--she needed to be converted, and Emeline didn't want her to be afraid.

  Tariq was such a good man. There was no ego--and that, she decided, was what made him such a good choice for a husband and father. He didn't care who was credited for what. He didn't have to be a hero, and that made him one in her eyes. He allowed three ancients inside her, moving through her body, and more, her mind, in order to bring her peace. To remove a threat to her. She loved him all the more for that.

  Through Charlotte, all those present felt Vadim's cunning hatred of all Carpathians, but in particular of the prince and his family. He cared nothing about women or children, only about what use they could be to him. She caught flashes of him ripping through several people, drinking blood, splashing it around and shoving them off a ship. She knew the others did as well. Not
hing was sacred to him. Nothing at all and yet . . . his entire focus was on the Asenguard compound. There was something there he wanted and he would sacrifice every one of his soldiers, his pawns, his massive army to get it.

  Charlotte felt another blast of pain as the splinter buried in her rib changed tactics. Now that her rib was broken, the thing had more wiggle room. It swayed from side to side under the terrible, relentless blast of white-hot energy. She forced herself to lie as relaxed as possible, drawing strength from Tariq's arms while the splinter attacked her. It was an attack, nothing less. Vadim wanted to force her to stop them. She was just as determined the vampire wouldn't get what he wanted.

  I'm in love with you, Tariq. She needed to tell him and now seemed a good time. Her body hurt like hell, and she knew his did as well. He felt far more pain than she did and she figured letting him know what he meant to her was a good way to tell him thank you.

  Tariq's arms tightened and he buried his face in the nape of her neck. More than life, Charlotte. The very air I breathe. You are fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso, my beloved. You are also truly and literally han ku vigyaz sivamet es sielamet, keeper of my heart and soul.

  When he spoke in his language, in that beautiful, mesmerizing voice she loved, the one that felt like love, the splinter went very still, as if it were paralyzed. Instantly the three ancients struck hard, blasting it with energy and the white-hot light. Charlotte felt that terrible flash, the burn along her broken rib. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to ride on top of the wave of pain.

  The splinter couldn't escape the light pouring over it, through it. Her rib felt as if someone were taking a torch to it, and she knew Tariq was shouldering most of that pain as well, shielding her as he would from every other terrible thing that came her way. Just as he would shield their children.

  I don't know how to tell you in your language, which sounds sexy and beautiful when you speak to me, but you're the keeper of my heart and soul, Tariq. For as long as you want me, I'll be your woman.

  She meant every word and surprisingly, her voice sounded soft and loving. No, it felt soft and loving. So much so that she heard Vadim shriek his anger and frustration. She felt his fear and it rocked her--rocked her that the terrible monster she thought unstoppable could know fear when the Carpathians facing him didn't feel it at all. She reached for Liv.

  See, baby? He's as afraid of us as we've been of him.

  He is. There was wonder in Liv's mind. Shock. Knowledge.

  Charlotte was too weak to go to her. She didn't even know if she could ever stand again, and the three ancients were deep inside her, determined to rid her of the splinter. Beneath the layers of soil, Charlotte was naked. She had no idea how much of her the others had seen . . .

  Sielamet. Just that. One word. But it carried so much meaning. Right now it was male amusement. A reprimand. I would shield you always. Carpathians do not share well with others.

  She loved that in the middle of life and death, the conversion, the struggle to destroy a monster's hold on her, Tariq was always the calm eye of the storm. So steady. Her rock. He thought to keep her naked body from the others and she was grateful to him. Grateful that when her body expelled all toxins, he shielded her and the earth absorbed everything, keeping the mess from the sight of the others.

  She thought it strange that she simply accepted lying in soil, using it as a blanket, packed tightly around her. The knowledge that they were packed in the dirt should have made her heart pound in trepidation, but her mind was too occupied with whether she could take more of that terrible burn in her ribs. That and the fact that the older children should be able to go through the conversion without harm or too much pain.

  Relax, Charlotte, Tariq advised. His hand moved soothingly over her back as he pulled her into him, her front to his front.

  She hadn't realized she had tensed up, fighting the pain, but it was growing worse, burning along her rib until she wanted to scream. She glanced up at Tariq's face. It was stoic. Without expression. She moved through his mind . . .

  Don't! It was a sharp command.

  She knew. He was taking most of what she felt while the three ancients attempted to destroy the splinter. Vadim fought back, attacking her, trying to force her to make them stop. Again, Tariq stood solidly between her and pain that would have been far too much for her.

  She put her hands on his chest, shocked how the soil responded to her movement, almost anticipating what she wanted. She felt warm and cocooned. Closing her eyes, she began to breathe deeply, slowly and steadily, using her meditative breathing to stay relaxed. She pushed everything out of her mind but that splinter.

  You will not defeat me. I will kill those children in front of you. Your lifemate's blood will run like a river over you as I allow Fridrick to take what is rightfully his.

  Tariq's body jerked once, the only sign that he heard. Blaze and Liv both made a sound of shock, of denial. They all heard Vadim's sneering voice.

  Dragomir, Siv and Val poured the white-hot light on the splinter, widening their blast so that there was nowhere for the tiny parasite to go. It had smashed the bone almost beyond repair, but Tariq had stopped Charlotte from feeling the worst of that pain and she remained still, refusing to call a halt to the slow, tedious work of extracting Vadim's shadowy splinter from her body.

  We will find you and destroy you, piece by piece, Tariq answered. His voice wasn't goading--his tone was matter-of-fact, as if it was a forgone conclusion that eventually Vadim would be caught and destroyed.

  Charlotte couldn't stop the shudder that ran through her body as the master vampire retaliated against her, the splinter jamming itself into one of the many cracks and smashing the bone. Vadim poured power into the splinter vengefully, focusing on hurting her, wanting her to scream at the ancients to stop.

  Her body stiffened in spite of her commands to stay relaxed. Every muscle tightened. She was already exhausted from the journey back through the tunnel, every inch of her covered in ice; then the conversion, her organs reshaping, her body becoming that of a different species; and now the master vampire battered her, bruised her, broke not only one rib, but succeeded in smashing through two others.

  Don't stop, she implored the ancients. No matter what, don't stop.

  The three men were relentless, determined and without mercy. Their combined light followed the shadow everywhere it went, into every nook and cranny, refusing to allow it out of the bones of her rib cage and into her body, where it could do even more damage. Vadim felt every bit of pain the splinter did. Every burn. Each time more of the tiny object succumbed to ash.

  In the end, Vadim realized there was no saving even the smallest piece. The head of the splinter buried itself as deeply as possible in Charlotte's rib, wanting to exact more revenge, knowing if the hunters wanted to kill it, they would have to cause excruciating pain to Charlotte.

  Do it, Charlotte and Tariq hissed simultaneously.

  Tariq's arms tightened around her and he cradled her close to him, trying to shelter her as the ancients took what felt like a blowtorch to her ribs. She gasped and pressed her open mouth against Tariq's chest. A solid wall. His heart beat a steady rhythm.

  The Carpathians surrounding them began a chant; they repeated the same thing over and over. Muoniak te avoisz te. Muoniak te avoisz te. Muoniak te avoisz te.

  What are they saying? Even she could hear the gasp of pain in her voice, but it didn't matter--she needed something to fill her mind and push the pain away.

  They command the shadow to reveal itself. To show itself to the ancients.

  She knew the exact moment when Vadim realized he couldn't save any portion of the sliver that had been pulled from his brain. The splinter went wild, slamming over and over into her ribs and then succumbing to the terrible concentrated fire. The white-hot energy consumed the last of the shadow, turning it to ash so that it crumbled and fell into tiny pieces and drifted away under the watchful eyes of the ancients.

  She could
feel them, the terrible toll the fight had taken on them. They were out of their bodies, pure spirit, and yet they didn't retreat. They set about healing her broken ribs and moving through her body inch by inch to make certain there was no trace of Vadim and that every organ and cell in her body was healed.

  The three ancients swayed with weariness when they returned to their forms. They sank into the rich soil, crouching low as if to catch their breath, although none of them made a sound.

  "Val?" Liv's voice trembled, but she sounded very brave. "I can feel that you're hungry." She stepped close to him and swept back the hair from her neck. "I couldn't help Charlotte, not really, but you can have my blood."

  There was silence in the basement. Dragomir and Siv both turned toward Liv and gave her small, courtly bows, although they were more like nods--but were definitely gestures of respect for the child.

  Val wrapped his arm around Liv. "Sisarke, you are incredibly generous to offer such a precious gift to me. I am hungry; that is true. When one leaves their body it takes a toll. Ekam--my brother, Lojos--has offered as well and he is much larger than you. I can take much more blood from him without harming him. I thank you, sisarke."

  Val stood slowly as Lojos approached, keeping his body between the ancient hunter and the little girl. Extending his wrist toward Val, Lojos nodded to the child, who wrapped her arm around Val's leg. "Saasz han ku andam szabadon ekam--take what I freely offer, my brother." With one fingernail he cut a long, deep gash in his wrist. Val took the offering and drank.

  Tomas offered his wrist to Siv with the same ritual words, and without hesitation, Mataias extended his wrist to Dragomir. It was Maksim who fed Tariq. There was something pure and beautiful in the way the Carpathians took care of one another. Charlotte knew all Carpathians were uneasy in the presence of Dragomir, Siv and Val, but they stepped up without a thought to their own safety and took care of their brethren.

  She didn't know what it was that set the three men so apart from the others. The triplets were scary predators, that was easy enough to see, yet the three men who had come to her aid had something else about them that defined them, something that wasn't human or civilized. They were more animal, but cunningly intelligent and so experienced in battle it was frightening.

 

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