“I do not like you feeling sad . . . Ferro.” She stumbled a little over using his name but was brave enough to say it. “We are both changed. You have been very kind to me, more than I imagined anyone would ever be. I have never had a rising such as this one. For that I have to thank you.”
The pads of her fingers swept over his jaw, her touch light, sending ripples of heat moving through his veins. Her voice was very sincere. He had merely taken her across the healing grounds and into the gardens. The kindness he had shown her was so basic that he wanted to weep for what little she expected. She was more concerned with his sorrow than what she was feeling. In fact, she was completely focused on him now, all thoughts of herself and her fears were gone. She had immersed herself completely in him, in an attempt to find a way to ease his sadness.
Carpathian healers shed their bodies to become wholly spirit, losing all ego, all sense of self, in order to heal. In a sense, Elisabeta, while retaining her body, did something very similar. She lost all ego, all sense of herself, and thought only of Ferro, moving gently through his mind, seeking ways to brighten his spirit.
Those gentle fingers of hers on his jaw, stroking heat into his veins, wreaked havoc with his emotions, with his physical control, when for centuries he had always been completely disciplined. Abruptly, he rose, taking her with him, setting her onto her feet, giving his body some respite, a little shocked that he would need that.
“I want to show you our home, minan piŋe sarnanak. Hopefully it will be a place of solace and happiness for you. It does not have bars on the windows or doors, and you can walk out of it when you wish, but if I am not with you, I prefer that you let me know when you wish to leave the safety of the walls. I have woven strong safeguards into it so the vampire and his puppets cannot penetrate from any direction in his attempts to get to you. If you choose to visit your friends, as you will naturally wish to do, if you let me know, I can safeguard you.”
That was difficult for him. Much more so than he had thought it would be. He wanted her to have freedom. He told himself that a million times. She needed to know she wasn’t a prisoner. He never wanted her to feel that way with him. He wanted her to feel cherished. Treasured. Always. But he wasn’t the type of man to have his woman casually leave a place of safety when she was in danger. Not at her preference. Not on a whim. Not when he could so easily command her to stay. Her friends could visit her there if she wanted to see them.
It made no sense to him to leave such a dangerous decision in anyone’s hands but his own. He was the one who would have to fight Sergey Malinov. He would not use his lifemate as the bait to draw the master vampire to him. He would choose the time and the place of the battle. It would not be where there were children around. Or women. Or his woman. Not when he had so much to lose.
“Have I angered you?” Elisabeta asked.
Ferro realized he was striding along the path and immediately shortened his steps to accommodate her. “No, Elisabeta, I was thinking of you leaving the house and what that might entail.”
She gave a quick shake of her head. “Please do not ask me to do such a thing, even to see Julija, not without you. I know I am not capable of that.”
Not only did her voice tremble, but so did her entire body. That shamed him. Ferro didn’t want that for her. He didn’t want her so frightened she was nearly paralyzed with terror at the mere thought of venturing out on her own. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her thin, shivering form under his shoulder for protection.
“Elisabeta, I have told you that you do not have to do anything that is frightening to you. I do not intend to leave you alone unless it is strictly necessary. In that event, I will put you in the ground where you will sleep, or I will leave you with Julija or someone you feel very safe with. You are not expected to entertain or go off on your own at any time. In fact, I would not like it.” Ferro felt the instant relief flooding her mind.
He had always been a decisive person. He knew exactly how to conduct a battle. He avoided humans and Carpathians alike. He was direct when he wanted something and commanded others, expecting instant compliance with his orders. He didn’t bother with niceties. He had no need and no time for such things. Now, with Elisabeta, he was feeling his way, completely at odds with not only his own personality but his own character and needs.
He stroked a caress down the back of her head as they stepped out of the protection of the gardens into the open. Elisabeta gasped aloud, stopped and actually turned to flee. The yard ahead of them seemed to be filled with people when there was only Isai Florea and his lifemate, Julija, standing on the front porch of a little Victorian replica of the main mansion, talking with Emeline and Dragomir Kozel. Both Dragomir and Isai were Ferro’s brethren from the monastery, as was Andor, the third male who was standing on the stairs of the little Victorian house with his lifemate, Lorraine.
Ferro caught Elisabeta around the waist and pulled her tight against him. She moaned and buried her face against his ribs. I can’t. Too many. Too many. Do not ask me to do this. It is too big. Too much. Hurts my eyes. My stomach. I can’t. I can’t do this.
She repeated the chant, a mantra in her mind, in his, over and over until he realized she didn’t know he could hear her. He felt her tears. Heard them in her voice. They dripped in her mind, yet his clothes, his skin, remained dry.
Ferro tried to assess what was happening to her, all the while breathing calmly for both of them. His heart remained steady. He pried her fingers off his shirt and placed her palm over his heart so she could follow the rhythm.
Breathe with me, sívamet. I am with you. We do this together. You do not have to speak. You do not have to look at them. I stand in front of you at all times. I will simply tell them I do not allow you to speak to others yet. We are new and you are getting used to a new master. A small well of humor he didn’t know he had welled up at the thought of the modern women hearing him state that. He didn’t know Emeline and Julija very well, but he was very familiar with Lorraine and her ultra-forward thinking. Her head might explode.
I do not want this woman’s head to explode. This does not seem kind.
It will not literally explode, Elisabeta. She will not like me referring to myself as your master. Nor will she like me saying you cannot talk to anyone else but me.
Why? Elisabeta tipped her head up to look at him curiously, her dark eyes roving over his face as if he were her anchor.
Ferro couldn’t help himself. He bent his head and brushed her lips with his. It was the briefest of contacts, but her lips were quivering, just that little bit, just enough to break his heart, and he wanted to reassure her he would take care of her.
“Did you notice how well you were able to walk? I did not feel you stumble once. You learned simply by looking into my mind and taking what you needed from me. Just keep putting your trust in me, Elisabeta. I know that is difficult when you have had no reason for centuries to have faith in anyone, but if you keep looking to me, I give you my word, I will not let you down. Lifemates cannot deceive one another. You can hear lies if you listen for them.”
She didn’t answer him, but her body felt as if it might shake apart any moment.
“Tell me what you fear the most. What is the worst of what is happening to you right this moment, piŋe sarnanak?” He phrased the question as a command because she responded and was most comfortable with an outright order to answer. She didn’t seem to like room for making her own decisions under stress.
She moistened her lips, glanced around her and then quickly buried her face again in his ribs. “It is too much. Too big.”
He was in her head, careful to keep his touch light so she didn’t feel as if he was being intrusive. Her mind was in chaos and he could hear her weeping. At once he began to set that sound to the beats of rain in their song, the one he’d composed for her. The one he’d used to draw her from the safety of the earth’s embrace.
“Don’t look around you as I take you to our home, Elisabeta. We will cross
the open space, but you can anchor yourself in my mind. I can carry you if you prefer.” He hadn’t wanted to embarrass her, but she wasn’t a modern woman who would worry about what others thought of her.
“Why are all those people staring at me?”
“They are my brethren. Julija has been waiting to see you.” He felt her instant withdrawal and then the self-loathing. “You are not a coward. You have already done far more than I expected this rising. They can wait until you are settled.”
“I don’t want any of them to feel as if I am rejecting them, especially Julija. She has gotten me through so much. Without her I wouldn’t have made it,” Elisabeta confessed in a small voice. She still kept her face tucked against his chest to keep from looking at the open spaces around them.
“I will tell them you are not ready yet and I have forbidden any contact at this time.”
At that, she pulled her head free from his shirt and looked up at him, her eyes searching his. He could see a breathless kind of hope on her face. Again, he couldn’t stop himself. He bent his head and brushed his lips over each eyelid before he lifted her in his arms, cradling her close to him.
I am taking Elisabeta to our home. She will not be visiting at this time.
He sent the decree on the pathway forged between the monastery brethren rather than the common Carpathian pathway. Sergey Malinov had once been a Carpathian and he would have access to that pathway. If, for some reason, there was a breach in their safeguards, there would be no chance that the master vampire would know Elisabeta had risen from the healing grounds.
The women have been waiting for some time to speak with your lifemate, Ferro, Isai said. There was no inflection in his voice. Not even one of protest.
Ferro. Lorraine had no problems objecting. You can’t keep her to yourself. This isn’t the Neanderthal days.
Ferro didn’t bother to answer. He gathered his lifemate into his arms and took to the sky. She muffled a startled cry and clutched his shirt, her face once more buried tight against his chest.
Did the vampire transport you through the air? He must have had you fly.
No. I would wake up in new places.
Ferro was not used to the emotion gathering in the pit of his belly, a dark ugly rage that simmered like an explosive volcano slowly gathering force. He breathed through it and let it go. Rage had no place in his life. Malinov was going to pay for the crimes he’d committed against the Carpathian people, and against Ferro’s lifemate, but his death would come from a place of justice as Ferro had been delivering for centuries. There was no other way.
He took his lifemate to the house his brethren had purchased for him, a property that had been added to the growing acreage of the protected compound. The site was nestled in between Isai and Julija’s property and Andor and Lorraine’s land. The hills were gently rolling and the land had groves of trees on it and, more importantly, water that added to the colors of all the various plants scattered around the property.
The house had been built by a famous architect, at least that was what Andor had told him, a man whose vision was to keep the landscape so pristine that the house would be difficult to see until one actually walked up to it. Andor and Lorraine had also bought property with a home designed by the same man. Ferro had viewed the property and home with an eye toward defense, escape and the ability to get to the ground undetected from anywhere above the house.
Now, as he brought his lifemate to the Spanish-looking home, he thought he should have consulted with the women to see if the house met with their standards. Elisabeta would entertain her friends there, make a life there. She might sleep beneath the master bedroom, but she would live within those walls. He set her feet very gently on the wide verandah, his hands on her waist to steady her.
3
There’s light in the darkness, waiting to be seen;
Just as I wait for you, a king for his queen.
Open your eyes, piŋe sarnanak,” Ferro said in his soft, commanding voice.
Elisabeta took a deep breath and forced herself to obey. She liked his voice, and no matter how afraid she was of her new life and the huge terrifying changes, so far, although things had been overwhelming and emotional, they had all been good. She loved that he called her “little songbird” or, even better, “his little songbird.” Those variations created a strange new feeling in her, an affection that seemed to be growing the more she was with him.
She found herself looking at a tall massive door to a house. Ferro stood directly behind her, his hands at her waist, holding her close to him. She was grateful for his presence. She had no idea why they were standing on that cool, wide verandah, but suddenly her heart was beginning to accelerate again. Something new. Something she was going to have to learn.
“Ferro.” She whispered his name in a kind of protest.
“No one is here. Just the two of us.”
“It is too big.” It was. The door was gigantic. For Ferro it wasn’t, because he was a big man. His shoulders were wide, and he would go through that door so easily, but she was thin and felt insignificant. The door was tall and wide and seemed enormous to her. What could it possibly lead to?
“This will be our home. You will be mistress here. Not a prisoner, Elisabeta, but mistress.”
Already she was shaking her head. She knew nothing of taking charge of a house. She couldn’t possibly entertain his friends. Or clean a place that size. How did one know what to do? When she was little, did she live in a house? She tried to remember, and immediately her head exploded with such pain it nearly drove her to her knees. She knew better than to cry out, but both hands flew to her head and she hunched in on herself.
Ferro instantly shielded her, taking the pain away and soothing her mind. “The vampire placed a block on your memories so the moment you try to access anything to do with your family or childhood, you experience pain,” he explained.
She had come to realize that some centuries earlier, but that hadn’t stopped the occasional times when, unbidden, she reached out to try to remember something important to her.
Ferro wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her back to his front. “He took so much from you, Elisabeta. We will get it all back, but you need to be patient with yourself. He had you for centuries. This process will take time. Do not judge yourself so harshly. This house is merely that at the moment—a house.”
“But you want it to be a home for you.” She pressed her lips together and then tried again. “For us.”
“I lived in a monastery, a shelter of rocks in the Carpathian Mountains shrouded by the mists. This place we will claim in small increments, one room at a time. As for caring for it, just as you learned about walking and you will learn about dressing yourself, you will learn to clean each room, taking the information from my mind, or Julija’s mind. Whoever you are most comfortable learning from.”
He was so matter-of-fact. So calm. Ferro never seemed in a hurry or in the least bothered by having to reassure her constantly. He simply provided a solution in his gentle voice.
“You will make it a home for us. I have no doubt about that. I have every faith in you. There is no time period that you must accomplish these tasks in. This is our journey together and we will make it ours as slow and as leisurely as we want. We both have had centuries of dancing to others’ tunes. This is our time and our song. I do not want anyone to dictate to us what we should do or when or how we should do it. We do not even have to open that door if you want to just make the verandah all we explore for this rising.”
He meant it. There was no lie in his voice. He didn’t seem to mind in the least standing there staring at the door while behind them was perhaps a view of nature. She didn’t know because she was too afraid of wide-open spaces. That made her feel like such a coward.
He bent his head and, when he did, his thick salt-and-pepper hair slid over the side of her neck, making her shiver with awareness. His hair was very long and thick, tied with a cord, but it felt soft against he
r skin and the slide along her neck was actually sensuous. His breath was warm in her ear when he spoke.
“You are no coward and I do not want you to think this of yourself again, Elisabeta. This does not please me. I have told you: I find you brave to face an entire new world the way you are doing. I am your lifemate and my opinion of you should matter.”
Instantly Elisabeta looked over her shoulder at him, worried that she’d upset him. “Your opinion really does matter to me, Ferro, that is why I worry so much that I cannot do the things I think I should be able to do.” She took a deep breath. “I want to go inside.” She realized she had dug her nails into his arm. “I really do.”
He waved his hand at the tall door. “If it is too much for you, just tell me and we will find the smallest room in the house and start there. I imagine the room we are going into will be the largest because it would be the room company would come into. At least, in the houses I’ve stepped into, that is the way the layout has been.”
Elisabeta stared into the cool darkness beyond the open doorway and tried not to hyperventilate. She told herself it was no different than entering a cave, or even going underground. There were no lights on. It was dark inside and she could feel the cool air coming out of the interior. Ferro didn’t try to hurry her. He made no move at all, just kept his arm locked around her shoulders and his front supporting her back.
There was a part of her that knew she was far too dependent on him. Julija wouldn’t approve of that. She had talked to her about a new start, about being her own person, standing on her own two feet, and already she was a failure. She didn’t want to be without Ferro’s support. Not without his strong hands and his tall, warrior-like demeanor that gave her confidence, his body that gave her strength and his voice that directed her, by turns gentle and commanding. She needed those things from him as much as she wanted them.
Dark Song Page 5