“Adoration went out the window a long time ago when I realized I had to do all the studying. Safeguards are important, Razvan. What happens if I’m not around and you need to be safe?”
“I can always reach you, Natalya.” He hugged her to him. “It’s never made sense for both of us to study the same thing. We share information.”
“But you aren’t retaining the spells,” Natalya argued, the smile fading from her face. “That worries me, Razvan. What happens if you need safeguards and you can’t reach me? You protect me all the time, the only real thing I have to give you in return is knowledge and you don’t take it seriously.”
“Believe me, Natalya, I take it very seriously,” Razvan corrected. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “You’re so much smarter than I am, and maybe I take advantage of that by not studying as hard as I should, but never think I’m not aware of how much you help me. I’m proud of you.”
“Did he hurt you this time or did the safeguards hold against him?” Natalya lowered her voice and looked around them. A shadow fell between them. Razvan’s arm slipped from her shoulders and all at once he was a good distance away from her. He seemed to fade and Natalya reached out a hand to him, but she couldn’t touch him and she dropped her arm.
“He was very angry. I think you’re stronger than he is. If you keep working and learning things like you are, he can’t touch us. Maybe his power is diminished, I don’t know, but it worries me that you may be in danger. He doesn’t like that he can’t control you. If he can’t hurt me, he can’t get to you.”
For a moment Natalya’s hair and skin banded with stripes and her eyes glowed a stormy opaque. “He was able to get through the safeguards and he hurt you, didn’t he? To punish me because I won’t come to him when he insists.”
“Show me the new one. Show me what you’re using now.”
Razvan was fading from her and Natalya couldn’t stop him. Grief intruded. Not for her brother but for Vikirnoff. Her need to touch Vikirnoff’s mind, just to know he was alive, was safe. She ached for him, her mind reaching. . . . reaching . . . but he wasn’t there—only a dark pitiless void she seemed to be tumbling into.
“Natalya! The safeguards.” There was desperation in Razvan’s voice.
“I told you to take them.” She was so distracted. She needed Vikirnoff. Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering her call? Could he be dead?
“No! I’m dead. The hunters killed me and you haven’t made me safe. Why won’t you make me safe, Natalya? I need the safeguard . . .
Natalya woke with a start. Her head was pounding and she looked around trying to remember where she was and what she was doing. Past and present always seemed to come together with a vengeance in her dreams. It was disorienting. She sat in the middle of the floor, knees drawn up, rocking back and forth, with tears streaming down her face. The television was on, but she had no idea what she’d been watching. She didn’t remember summoning a dream of her childhood, but she must have just before she’d succumbed to exhaustion. Swearing under her breath, annoyed by her lack of control, she forced herself to look around the room. She should have remained alert, not given in to sleep when enemies surrounded her.
Rubbing her ankle, Natalya looked at the heavy drapes drawn to block out the light. Her eyes and skin still burned, so she was certain the sun hadn’t set yet. She tried to focus on the television, but she couldn’t seem to think straight. She loved really old movies with bad special effects and she’d found a channel that played them, but she couldn’t seem to keep her mind from straying to Vikirnoff. And that was just plain making her angry.
She gave it up with a little sigh, switching off the set and kicking at the rumpled bed. There had been no maid service in the room and it was still a mess from when Vikirnoff was there. The pillow held his scent and she buried her nose against its softness, inhaling deeply before hugging it to her. “Damn you, Vikirnoff Von Shrieder.” She felt better condemning him out loud.
Usually dreams of her childhood with Razvan soothed her, but grief was inches from her, clawing at her, threatening to choke her. Not grief for her twin brother, long gone from her, but grief for a man she’d barely met. But she knew him. She’d been in his mind and she knew what kind of man he was. Her soul had touched his. Where was he when she needed him so desperately?
“I’ll be damned if your stupid binding spell gets the better of me.” He was alive. She knew he was alive. It didn’t matter that she had reached out to touch his mind a hundred times over the last few hours and found a dark void, she would not give in to such fantasy. He was merely sleeping the rejuvenating sleep of his kind. She knew what it was, she’d actually studied the healing properties of the various soils in one of her many frenzied periods of gathering information to fill the long, empty hours of her life.
“Maybe I’ll have to go to your cave and sit there waiting for you to wake up while I work on the spell to unbind us. Because I don’t like this feeling.” Emptiness was a hole eating her alive. “Éntölam kuulua, avio päläfertiilam. I can figure this out. It isn’t that difficult.” She pressed her hands into her churning stomach.
A soft rap on the door startled her. Natalya spun around, looking wildly for her weapons. They were always at her fingertips. Was she so far gone that she’d let her guard down? Vampires might not be able to attack during daylight hours, but they were masters of puppets, ghouls created to do their bidding. And there was always Brent Barstow skulking around. She wasn’t in the least bit fooled by his casual attitude. The man was up to no good and that put him in league with the vampires as far as she was concerned.
“Who is it?” She stood to the right of the door, gun in hand, finger on the trigger, safety off. The safeguards should hold, but she believed in being prepared. The tigress rose close to the surface, allowing her to utilize the incredible gift of scent. A man and woman, no sweat to indicate fear or danger, but she didn’t let down her guard.
“Jubal and Gabrielle Sanders, ma’am. Your lifemate sent us to watch over you.”
Natalya let her breath out in a long, slow hiss of annoyance as she sagged against the wall. You’re an idiot, Vik, sending them here. You know damn well I’ll be trying to take care of them instead of the other way around. He couldn’t hear her, but it gave her satisfaction to say it. “I told him I didn’t need a baby-sitter, thank you very much. He’s flattering himself to think I might miss him.”
“Ma’am. We can’t very well stand out here in the hall talking through the door.” There was a small silence. “Well, okay, we could, but we’re going to attract a bit of attention eventually.”
“You could just go away,” Natalya said hopefully.
“We have orders from the prince, ma’am. We can’t leave.”
“If you call me ma’am one more time, I may just shoot you right through the door,” Natalya said. She sighed. “Just a minute.” It took several minutes to remove the safeguards from the door. Staying to the side, gun rock-steady she took careful aim at the entrance. “Come on in.”
The man entered first. He was tall and stocky with wide shoulders and dark wavy hair. He grinned at her and raised his hands into the air, stepping aside for the woman to enter. Natalya noted he stepped to place his body between the gun and his sister. “This is my sister, Gabrielle. I’m Jubal Sanders. Basically, we’re human in-laws to Traian.”
Gabrielle closed the door and slid the bolt into place. “Slavica, the innkeeper and her husband can vouch for us. Slavica and her daughter sometime help us watch Falcon and Sara’s children. The children are human and can’t go to ground so they need caretakers during the daylight hours.”
“I don’t need Slavica to vouch for you, I can read your mind.” It was a lie. The brother and sister had very strong barriers, shields Natalya was certain the prince or Falcon had helped to construct.
Jubal’s smile widened at her as if he knew she was lying. “Are you going to shoot us, because I’m beginning to feel like I’m in one of those gangster movies?”
“I’m still deciding,” Natalya said. “I haven’t killed anyone today and I don’t want to make that a habit. I have to stay in practice.”
“Well at least introduce yourself before you shoot me,” Jubal said, looking around the room, his eyebrow arching upward.
Natalya followed his gaze to all the scorch marks and blackened pieces of cardboard. “Natalya Shonski.” She slid the safety into place on the gun and waved them to chairs. “Thanks for coming, but I’m fine. I don’t fall apart all that easy.” She was turning into a first-class liar. Her insides were raw with grief and there was hole burning its way through her throat. She managed a smile. “Vik tends to worry over the silliest things.”
Gabrielle looked around the room, trying to ignore the burn marks everywhere and focus on the brightly colored tapestries. “When we first came here, we stayed at this inn. Our room had beautiful woven rugs, all in earth tones. This is very red.”
“Isn’t it though? I wanted the television and the bathroom so I went with bright,” Natalya explained. “I really feel uncomfortable with putting the two of you out by making you stay with me.”
Jubal shrugged. “You’re much easier than the kids. Sara has a million of them. They run me ragged. Okay, the question has to be asked. I’m sorry if this isn’t considered polite, but what have you been doing in here?”
She tried to look innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It looks like you’re the world’s worst smoker, leaving old stogies burning while you fall asleep. Or, you’re a closet pyromaniac and we’ll have to be shot after all for discovering your secret. What gives?”
Natalya made a face. “I was working on a project, not smoking.” She shrugged when he kept looking at her. “I was experimenting. I don’t have a flamethrower so I was making one. I needed to see how close I’d have to be to use it effectively.”
Jubal and Gabrielle exchanged a long stare. Gabrielle cleared her throat. “You were practicing in this room with a flamethrower?”
Natalya looked at all the blackened marks. “Well, yes. I was careful. I burned paper and old clothes and things. I kept water handy so if the fires were bigger than I expected, I could put them out immediately.”
“You were burning objects here in the room?” Jubal repeated.
Natalya scowled at him. “Don’t be such a prig. I was experimenting. It’s not like I was trying to set the building on fire. Do you think I can just go out and buy a flamethrower? They aren’t that easy to come by.”
Jubal cleared his throat. “Why the obsession with a flamethrower?”
“Vik informed me I have to incinerate the heart of the vampire to kill it. I killed Freddie the vamp like twenty times, but he wouldn’t die. He just kept getting back up again and again. It was downright annoying and a spooky and when I complained, Vik said I needed a flamethrower. Well . . .” She hedged. “He said I had to incinerate the heart and I can’t just call down lightning or throw fireballs, so there you go.”
Jubal swept a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. “Let me get this straight. You’ve been inventing your own version of a flamethrower?”
“What the heck did you expect me to do? It isn’t like I can go down to the local market and pick one up cheap. A can of hairspray and a lighter works, although I have to be way closer than I’d like. The good news is, it’s easy to carry.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?” Jubal demanded.
“It was actually fun.”
Gabrielle burst out laughing at the expression on her brother’s face. “Go, Natalya. You and my sister Joie will get along just fine.”
“Don’t encourage her, Gabrielle,” Jubal chastised. “What does . . . er . . . Vik have to say about all this?”
Natalya’s eyebrow shot up. “Vik doesn’t say anything because it isn’t his business how I choose to kill vamps.” She shrugged carelessly. “Whatever works. He has his methods of dealing with the undead and I have mine.”
“You don’t think it’s just a little bit weird that you’re in your hotel room burning things up?” Jubal asked.
“The burning things up is a by-product of testing. I was testing out distances. And, by the way, you can’t hold down the trigger because the flame comes back to the can and the can will blow up.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t blow out a window.”
Natalya gave him a cool look. “I’m very good at what I do. I only blow up things I want to blow up.” She was becoming distracted again, unable to focus on the conversation. She turned away from her visitors, wanting to pull on her hair. Claws were dangerously close and she flexed her fingers several times to ease the aching.
The need to reach out and touch Vikirnoff’s mind shook her with intensity. She could feel her heart pounding and sweat broke out on her body. He wasn’t dead. He was asleep. Just asleep. And when he woke up she was going to make him dead. She wanted to strangle him slowly for putting her through hell.
“Do you blow things up often?”
“Jubal!” Gabrielle objected.
“I’m just curious. She’s just like Joie. I swear, I’m always surrounded by females who think they can take on King Kong.”
A reluctant smile found it’s way to Natalya’s face. “I love that movie.”
“What were you watching?” He indicated the television set.
“I don’t remember.” And she didn’t. She loved the wonderful old television shows and B movies with their old-time special effects. It didn’t matter what language they were in, they always provided entertainment, but now she couldn’t remember a single thing she’d watched all day. “But it wasn’t King Kong.”
She couldn’t make small talk with perfect strangers. She had learned how to appear friendly and never give anything of herself away, but somehow her life had changed. In any case, when she was so distraught, which was never, before Vikirnoff, the tigress roared for supremacy to protect her and that meant Jubal and Gabrielle Sanders might not be entirely safe.
Natalya felt empty without Vikirnoff. She twisted her fingers together and slid back down the wall to sit on the floor in the midst of her weapons. She wasn’t afraid of the brother and sister; in such close quarters the tigress would make short work of them if the weapons proved useless, but she felt vulnerable. She’d never been so vulnerable and raw and exposed. Damn Vikirnoff and all Carpathian men!
“Natalya.” There was compassion in Gabrielle’s gray eyes. “Raven Dubrinsky told me that one time years ago, Mikhail had to go to ground without her. He was wounded and she had not yet been converted. She said it was one of the most difficult periods of her life and she wanted me to tell you that if she could be with you right now, she would have come.”
“How bad are the prince’s injuries?” Natalya asked, desperate to latch onto something that would keep her need of Vikirnoff at bay. If needing a man was a by-product of being a lifemate to a Carpathian, she was more determined than ever to find a way to break the binding ritual. Not only did it suck, but it was humiliating to think she couldn’t be without Vikirnoff for a couple of days. She’d been around the world several times by herself. Most of her life had been solitary. She did not need a man.
“His injuries were pretty bad. I didn’t see him, but Raven was very upset. He was led into a trap,” Jubal said. “Both he and Falcon were attacked by several vampires in two separate instances. I think the vampires are trying to wear them down, to keep them injured and weaken them from blood loss rather than go in for the kill.”
“Vikirnoff thinks the vampires are gathering to kill the prince. Maxim, that’s the master vampire, told Vik they would kill Mikhail and the entire race would be doomed.” Natalya drummed her fingers on the floor. “Is that true?”
“I haven’t been here that long,” Gabrielle answered, “but Gary told me the prince is a major link between all Carpathians.”
“Gary?” Natalya prompted.
“Gary Jansen is one of those geeky guy
s who can do anything, know everything and talk so you can’t understand him,” Jubal said, grinning at his sister.
“He is not.” Gabrielle flicked a chewing gum wrapper at her brother. “He’s the kindest, most wonderful man around. And even Shea thinks Gary has the best chance for figuring out why the Carpathian women miscarry so often.” She smiled at Natalya. “He’s brilliant.”
“A brilliant geek,” Jubal pointed out.
Gabrielle wrinkled her nose at her brother.
At once Natalya felt alone. She used to joke and tease with Razvan. The closeness between the Sander siblings reminded her of how much she’d lost. “I had a brother once.” She leaned her head back against the wall. “We were twins. He was handsome, Gabrielle, much like your brother. And a terrible flirt. Women chased after him all the time—and he liked it.”
“Jubal likes women, just not his sisters,” Gabrielle said.
“I like my sisters, especially when they don’t talk. And you have to admit, they both are crazy.” Jubal grinned at her. “Like you. Did you make your brother crazy all the time?”
Natalya thought it over. “Probably. Yes. I only remember bits and pieces of my childhood with him, and we had to separate when we were older. After that, we met at night, in dreams, and exchanged information.”
Gabrielle frowned. “Why would you have to separate? We all live different lives but we see each other all the time.”
Natalya fought for the memories. More and more she was having flashbacks and piecing together bits of information. “It wasn’t safe. We went opposite ways. He didn’t know we could communicate in dreams.”
“Your brother? I’m confused,” Jubal said.
Natalya shook her head, frowning. “Not my brother. A man. I think he may have been my grandfather. In any case, Razvan and I were apart out of necessity. He was different toward the end. He wanted children. It was a big deal to him, more than having a wife. He was with a woman in California and later I found out there was a child; of course she’s grown now. He also had a woman in Texas and one in France.” Before either of them could comment, she looked up. “Not at the same time, he was a wanderer and he never could stay in one place with one person. I have no idea if he had any more children. He never told me, but he wanted a child so much, it wouldn’t surprise me. He was killed before he ever saw his child in California. She didn’t even know who he was.”
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 98