Tariq inclined his head at Dragomir’s observation. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “On the other hand, I have found my love of humans is both a strength and a weakness. Thanks to the prince, we do know some human women can be converted. Those of us who did not find their lifemates, century after century, still can have hope. That soul is reborn again and again until we find her or we go into the next life. There are women out there, human and Carpathian, protecting the soul of a hunter.”
“We left the monastery because three women came together and gave us hope. They told us that our lifemates were waiting in this century for us. I am not certain I really believed them at the time. I may have needed to believe them, but I was skeptical. Then I heard Emeline’s voice, and my world changed from darkness to light. I hope that finding Emeline continues to give the others hope that they might find their lifemates, too. Like me, they don’t think they belong anymore. We are ancients, and while we locked ourselves away, the world moved forward without us. Women moved forward as well. We don’t understand them.”
Tariq sent him a small grin. “No one has ever understood them. They only ask for partnership. They are intelligent and their opinions matter. They are intuitive.”
“These are things I know, but partnership? What does that mean?”
“She will want to walk at your side, not behind you.”
“I assume you mean that literally rather than figuratively,” Dragomir said. He was aware of the others in the brotherhood paying close attention to the conversation.
“Both.”
Dragomir shook his head. “That’s where you lose me. What is wrong with wanting to protect my woman? My every instinct is to do just that. She carries life in her. She’s light to my darkness. She’s everything good in the world.”
“To us. We know what we lost. We know a world without women and children. That drought has never happened to them. Even the women no longer know their own worth. We know they are more precious than the greatest jewel, but others don’t understand and treat them as less than animals. They are possessions, not cherished partners.”
“Emeline will not like me treating her as a cherished woman?” He was more confused than ever. “I know no other way. I am incapable of any other way.”
“She will like that part. Just not the part where you lock her up when you don’t want her talking to Amelia.”
“And Charlotte?”
“She won’t like that, either. I will do my best to distract her, but once she realizes what I’m doing, she will voice her opinion rather strongly.”
There was a note of amusement in Tariq’s voice. Dragomir still didn’t understand, and he sensed this was an important subject. “You don’t seem to mind your woman getting upset with you.” Emeline’s tears would kill him.
“There is little I can do about it, Dragomir. She will want to be with Amelia, to try to help her, and I will forbid it knowing Vadim could strike at us through her. I won’t risk Charlotte. She won’t understand, or she’ll pretend she doesn’t because going to Amelia and helping her is worth the risk to her. It isn’t to me and never will be. Risking Emeline won’t be worth it to you. You can’t control Emeline’s reactions any more than I can control Charlotte’s.”
Tariq shrugged. “The bottom line with your woman is this: you can try to explain your position in a logical manner, but remember, it’s your logic. It’s your emotion – fear – that is driving you. Her logic will be different, but no less real. In the end, you will do what every male Carpathian must do – you will protect your woman. She won’t like it, but she’ll accept it because she has no choice. Your comfort level during that time will not be the best, but it will pass and your woman will be safe.”
Dragomir nodded. “I think I understand. What is the use of explaining if she won’t listen?”
“Always explain. She deserves an explanation. Your relationship cannot be a dictatorship.”
Dragomir sighed, something in his heart twisting hard. “I do not want a dictatorship, but where I lead, my woman goes. I don’t know, Tariq, I may have tied her to me far too fast. I was trying to convince her she wasn’t Vadim’s lifemate. Honestly? I still don’t know if she’s entirely convinced. But she’s tied to me now, and that may be worse than a false belief. If what you say is so, then she will detest being my lifemate.”
“You’ve been her lifemate all along. She seems to have fought for you. She didn’t run.”
“That’s different.”
Tariq threw back his head and laughed. “Go feed, my friend and brother. Emeline will be fine. She has been in our world. Blaze is her best friend and sister. They talk. Blaze is a warrior, Emeline is not. Blaze is suited to Maksim. Emeline is suited to you. My Charlotte is perfect for me. That is how it works. You will do your best to make her happy, and she will do her best to make you happy. Go, Dragomir, before you talk yourself into running for the monastery. I can assure you, most modern women, if you act like you don’t want them, will shrug their shoulders and take their hurt in the opposite direction.”
“I would not run from her. If I returned to the monastery, she would go with me.”
Tariq laughed again. “Go start our little charade. Feed and then destroy the lair and hopefully any vampire you find in it. I will check on the children, isolate each of them from the others and make certain Amelia cannot escape the gilded cage we put her in.”
Dragomir took to the sky with Tariq’s laughter echoing through his mind. Sandu and Andor flew on either side of him. Ferro, Afanasiv and Nicu flanked him. He wanted the others there, Petru, Benedik and Isia. He sent out a call to the others in the brotherhood, hoping they would come. He wanted them to see that he had a lifemate and they were right to search for theirs.
10
Dragomir fed well, knowing he was heading for a fight. The lair that had been found was a good distance from the compound, in the Cuyamaca Rancho State Park. There were more than one hundred miles of hiking trails. Camping sites and picnic areas made it a smorgasbord for vampires. Up in the highest peak, a crack appeared in a large jutting boulder. It was barely a half of an inch wide, but ran about five feet long in a jagged pattern almost to the very foot of the boulder.
He stood facing it, the other ancients spreading out, feeling the air, the ground, listening and scanning. There was a compulsion embedded in the rock face that warned people away from the area. Anyone feeling it would just turn and leave. That had alerted Andor to the fact that the lair had to be close.
Anywhere one went in a forested area, there was the continual drone of insects. Here, it was eerily silent. There was a feeling of impending violence, of an unseen watcher. The ground shifted subtly under his feet, a built-in snare just in case the compulsion to leave didn’t work. He crouched low to run his hand along the soil.
There is something here. A trap beneath our feet. It feels like the ones used a few centuries ago by the Astors. Fridrick and Georg. They had a few kin that ran with them as well. When the Malinovs turned, they also chose to give up their souls. Do any of you recall the others in this family and the traps they preferred to use?
The brotherhood had long ago formed their own telepathic paths. They didn’t need to use the more common Carpathian path – the one any vampire would hear. The sun hadn’t set, so any vampire inside the lair would be still bedding down and setting more safeguards.
They liked to use the local habitat so everything always looked natural, Afanasiv answered. There were at least three others. Cousins, I think. My memory is dim.
Karl, Leon and Raban. They all went from the Carpathian Mountains to Germany. They took German names to fit in, better to terrorize the people there, Ferro added to the bank of information.
Dragomir ran his hand, palm down, with exquisite gentleness along the top of the soil. There was no grass. He found a small, withered bush just to the right of the boulder. The plant had shrunken away from the foul, unnatural being that had trampled the dirt near it. He felt something, a small electric shock almost, leaping toward his palm. None of the other ancients had boots on the ground. Only Dragomir had allowed his feet to touch the soil.