“Except the Red Cross doesn’t drink what they take.”
“No, but they do use it to save lives. Humans need blood to survive, and so do Carpathians. The only real difference is how they get it. Besides, most people never know they have had their blood taken. It’s really quite unobtrusive and painless. Carpathians use their abilities to put a person into a dream state.”
“So they enthrall people. Like vampires do in novels and movies.”
“Yes, there’s nothing malicious about it. Most usually flood the person with happy thoughts, take what they need and leave pleasant memories behind when they leave.”
Gary rubbed his wrist as if he could still feel the teeth breaking through the skin. Maybe he could. He hadn’t looked like he was in a trance state when Dax was drinking from him.
“Why aren’t there any marks?” Riley asked. “I watched him take your blood, but I don’t see any sign of a cut or even a scratch on your wrist.”
“That’s because a Carpathian’s saliva has rapid healing agents in it that seem to work on just about anything organic. Wounds close almost instantly. It’s really something. They have other gifts, too. Abilities that would seem to fall more in the realm of magic than science. But all those gifts come at a price.”
“What price?”
“A pretty steep one. The way it was explained to me, each Carpathian male is born with a seed of darkness in him. At first it’s nothing—less than nothing. Like a grain of sand in the ocean. But as the males age, the darkness in them grows.”
“By ‘darkness,’ what do you mean, exactly?”
“I guess you’d call it evil—or, rather, the capacity for evil. Sort of like all the aggressive emotions—hate, violence, selfishness. Once a Carpathian male reaches adulthood, that darkness starts pushing, trying to dominate him. Like I said, Carpathians live a very long time. The longer the male lives, the stronger the darkness inside him becomes.”
Gary paused to take a sip of his water, but whether he did so from thirst or nerves, Riley couldn’t say. He looked a little uncomfortable.
“The Carpathian males lose the ability to see in color, then the ability to feel emotion. I don’t have a clear understanding of how that works exactly. I think it’s a little different from person to person. For some, I gather it’s a clean cut, like the lights just went out and every emotion they ever had is simply taken away. Love, sadness, joy, regret, all of it’s gone, and what is left is just emptiness. For others, it’s apparently not such a drastic change, and their emotions just fade. There are some who use their memories to recall what emotion used to feel like, but I’m told it’s like hearing under water. It’s not the same, but they cling to it, because it’s all they have. But even that doesn’t last. The darkness eventually corrupts everything, and the Carpathians know it. That leaves them only two choices: either meet the sun and die—and yes, that part works just like it does in all vampires—or embrace the evil and become a vampire, as Mitro did.”
Riley looked down at her hands, inexplicably sad. “How terrible for them. So they are vampires, after all.”
“No, they aren’t. But they can become vampires if they embrace the darkness inside them. That’s what we tried to tell you before. The vampires aren’t just evil; they’ve chosen to be evil. They choose to give up their souls because they feel a rush when they kill while feeding. They relish the hate, the destruction, the corruption. There’s no worse monster on this earth than the vampire. And the Carpathians like Dax hunt them. And Riley, something you need to understand is that some of the vampires they hunt were once their friends. Maybe even family members. It takes a very strong person to bear a burden like that.”
Riley struggled to wrap her head around the information Gary was sharing. Rationally, she had a hard time believing in vampires and shape-shifters, but she’d seen them herself. She couldn’t deny they existed. But then, she knew magic existed—the sort of magic that defied rational thought. She possessed it herself, as had her mother before her. The hardest part to come to grips with was the idea that Dax wasn’t yet a vampire but might become one. Seeing the image of Dax, standing before her as red and gold flecks fell down all around him, his eyes so focused and yet so lost.
Riley pushed her hand under the corner of her sleeping pad she was sitting on. Her fingertips touched the tent floor. The vinyl felt cool against her hand. Her fingertips began to tingle as her connection to the earth grew stronger. She pushed into the plastic, gaining comfort the closer she got to the packed dirt underneath the tent. To her surprise, the thin plastic material seemed to dissolve beneath her hand, giving her access to the earth, which parted easily, as if welcoming her exploration.
“So Dax hunts these vampires, the ones like this Mitro who escaped from the volcano,” Riley summarized. “But Dax is Carpathian, which means he has this same evil growing inside of him as Mitro. And if he doesn’t suicide in the sun, he’ll eventually become a vampire as well.”
The image of Dax’s broken body, his wounds open to the night sky, flooded through her. But even though he’d surely been in agony, he’d regarded her with such warmth and such wonder, his eyes filled with emotion. Hadn’t he? Her heart seemed to stutter at the idea of him turning vampire. He was noble. Filled with courage. He’d touched her with such gentleness. She couldn’t believe that there was evil in him. He was capable of violence, but evil? The idea was so devastating she could barely breathe.
Seeking solace, she used her fingertips to move through the earth. It was odd they moved through the packed soil with almost no resistance, as if she were running her hand through still water. The earth seemed to be singing under her hands.
With her fingers in the soil, if she didn’t think about the why, and the how, instead focused on the song that was all around her, she could sense all the others in the camp. She knew where they were, what they were doing. Then, abruptly, she froze, her body turning cold from fear at the thought that Dax was gone.
“Gary, where is Dax right now?”
“He’s resting at the moment. Like I said, Carpathians and the sun don’t get along too well, although it doesn’t seem to affect Dax quite as strongly.”
“Gary,” she said very coolly. “Answer the question.”
“Dax wanted to stay close just in case Mitro or some other threat came up and we needed him.”
Riley’s eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. Gary, taken by surprise, fell over backward in his attempt to get out of her way.
“He’s right underneath us isn’t he?” She looked down, scanning the tent floor. She felt him, and relief flooded every part of her. He was close. She would see him again.
Gary got to his feet and righted his stool. “I honestly don’t know. The location of their resting place isn’t something Carpathians share, for obvious reasons, but that would make the most sense. He wants to keep you safe.”
Riley knew Dax was there. Maybe they weren’t supposed to know his exact resting place, but the earth whispered to her. And she knew. There was a man, a Carpathian, buried underneath her. She looked down at her feet. She was standing on him. Well, not actually standing on him, she corrected herself silently. To be perfectly technical about it, the tent just happened to be pitched over ground that contained Dax’s sleeping body.
“I hope he doesn’t expect me to help dig him out,” she said out loud, and Gary brought his fingers up in a shushing gesture.
Laughter rumbled through her, and she knew it was Dax. The man spoke right into her mind. I thank you for the invitation but I am sure I can find my own way out.
His voice was polite and smooth but each word carried a smile. She shivered. Okay, more than polite and smooth, his voice sounded like warm molasses pouring into her mind and filling every empty, lonely spot. Just the sound of his voice sent fingers of arousal dancing through her body and an electrical current snapping and crackling in her veins. Warmth spread through her as if that molasses found a way into her body.
He couldn’t be in
her mind. Not with the things about him she was thinking—like how very sexy everything about him was. Color swept up her neck into her face. “I’m not comfortable with you in my head.”
She glared at Gary, as if he were to blame for Dax’s behavior.
Unperturbed by her irritation, Dax continued speaking directly into her mind. I left you a gift, Riley, to thank you for your assistance. Do you like it?
Some external force directed her attention down to the sleeping bag. She flipped the edge over to reveal an intricately woven quilt that depicted a beautiful landscape of mountains and grasslands, all worked in reds and blacks with threads of shining silver and gold embroidered throughout. A silvery moon in the top corner of the quilt sent beams of silvery light shining down upon the landscape below. The detail was exquisite, full of depth and movement. She turned it over to see the back side, and the quilt moved like silk, soft and warm in her hand.
The backing showed a different scene filled with wildlife. Birds of prey flew alongside a giant red dragon. On the ground below, wolves, lions, tigers and snow leopards raced across the plains, some diving into rivers and streams. As with the front of the quilt, the detail work was so exquisite, the scene practically came to life. More than that, the quilt radiated warmth and comfort.
“You shouldn’t have,” Riley murmured.
The quilt is not to your liking? There wasn’t any emotion in Dax’s voice, but Riley somehow knew she had hurt him. She had never been good with social niceties.
Her heart thudded in her chest. She’d never seen anything more beautiful—except him. She moistened her lips and glanced at Gary. Color crept up her neck to stain her cheeks. She felt Dax in her mind, waiting for her answer. She reached back to him, wanting to share what she had to say with only him.
I like it very much. How could anyone not? Her fingers traced the lines of the red dragon. Simply touching the fabric, stroking the lines of the design, seemed to wash away her worries and fears. “Did you hear me?” Her heart thudded. She felt shy, when she’d never thought she had a shy bone in her body.
Yes. The word stroked over her skin like a caress.
This is truly a piece of art. But it’s far too beautiful to use—especially in a tent. The idea was outrageous.
Ah. But it was made for your use. You healed me. I wanted to thank you, and as you were sleeping, it seemed like the appropriate gift. His tone seemed more at ease. Did you sleep well, Riley? He spoke her name slowly, as if with great care, his tongue savoring each syllable.
She gently folded the quilt and set it down on her bed, her fingers lingering on top of the red dragon, stroking. I did sleep well, and thank you for the quilt, Dax. She found herself trying to say his name with a similar inflection.
But I am not having a conversation with a man while he is buried in the ground beneath my feet. Not to be rude, but I find the whole thing more than a little creepy. Her hand went over her mouth. Did Carpathians know what teasing was?
She could have bitten her tongue. She had the worst sense of humor, and she really didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but talking to a man lying in the earth beneath her feet was kind of … humorous. She sank down and began sliding on her boots. As she was hunched down tightening the laces on her left boot, she felt just the brush of his lips against the back of her neck.
I see. Well, if that is the case, you could join me here if you like, it would not be too difficult. I am sure you would find it very interesting.
Riley froze for a moment, her hands stilling on the laces of her boot. The idea of joining him …
Male laughter vibrated from the floor. Waves of warmth radiated upward, and she started laughing, too. Carpathians definitely knew all about teasing. That realization eased her fears that her Dax could possibly become vampire. Evil creatures taunted, but they didn’t tease. Teasing was gentle, friendly. There was a difference. Somehow, she got the feeling that he wanted to touch her, even if he couldn’t physically be there right then. And somehow he had. Tingles coiled inside her and her shoulders relaxed.
You called me your Dax.
She stiffened. She had called him her Dax. She thought of him that way and she had no idea why.
Yes, you know why.
That voice could melt a glacier. If she didn’t quit she’d be tripping over her own tongue. “I am leaving. You”—she pointed to the ground—“stay there.” See? She could be funny, too. Laughing at her own joke, she exited the tent.
Gary followed her out, and as they left the sound of Dax’s laughter faded, leaving her with a small empty feeling that she quickly tried to push aside. Riley stopped Gary with a hand on his arm. “How do we keep him from becoming a vampire?”
Gary looked at her for a long time, obviously choosing his words carefully. “The Carpathians are born with a soul that must find its other half. The light to their darkness. Only that soul can restore colors and emotions and prevent a Carpathian male too long in the world without those things from turning. Without that one woman who is the other half of his soul, he will choose between giving up his soul and becoming the very thing he hunts, or he must seek the dawn and suicide. He must find his lifemate.”
At the word her heart clenched. She pressed her hand over her heart, suddenly barely able to breathe, her mind racing. “Gary, what’s the Carpathian word for lifemate?”
Gary looked her straight in the eye. “Päläfertiilam.”
Riley slowly nodded her head, trying hard not to notice that her blood surged hotly at the word, or that her mind continually reached for Dax. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Gary asked.
She shrugged. “Not really, but I’m certain I’ll figure it out.”
Outside the tent, ash blanketed everything. It was still falling through the canopy of trees, turning everything a snowy gray. Riley looked around, easily spotting Jubal and Ben along with some natives gathered around a central fire pit. The camp was surprisingly large. As she walked toward Jubal and Ben, another group of men came in from a trail off to her right.
She spied Alejandro, one of their guides, along with Miguel, Hector, Don, and Mack Shelton. They were obviously one of the returning search parties, but since there was no sign of Marty or Pedro among their numbers, it seemed clear their search hadn’t been successful.
Jubal approached. “Hey, Riley. Good to see you up and about. You feeling okay?”
“I’m good, thanks.” She turned to watch the returning search party. “Gary told me Marty and Pedro went missing.”
“Yeah. Looks like they still are. Can’t say if that’s good news or bad.”
“Vampires like to play with their victims,” Gary explained in a quiet voice. “Turning people into walking puppets isn’t uncommon. If Mitro is the reason those two are missing, whoever finds them will probably get a very unpleasant surprise.”
Riley spun around in shock. “Did you tell them that?” She nodded her head in the search party’s direction, lowering her voice so they wouldn’t hear.
Gary and Jubal’s silence was all the answer she needed.
“Why wouldn’t you tell them? If you’re sending out a search party and putting them in harm’s way, shouldn’t they know what they’re dealing with?” She scrubbed her hand over her face. “Gary, Jubal, how fair is that?”
For the second time since waking, she felt the sensation of a warm hand touching her back, calming her and drawing the focus of her anger away from Jubal and Gary. She turned to glance behind her, but no one was there.
“We considered it highly unlikely they’d find Marty or Pedro,” Gary said. “Before Dax went to sleep, he ran a preliminary search in a five-mile radius around the camp, and found nothing.”
“Riley, you have to understand,” Jubal added when she continued to shake her head. “Gary and I swore an oath, to keep the Carpathians’ secrets at all cost and by doing so keep their race safe. We didn’t make that vow lightly, and we don’t keep it lightly. There
are men, women and children …” He paused for a fraction. “And babies counting on us.” He watched the returning members of the search party as they separated and sought out their own tents, and his expression turned resolute. “We will not fail them. We can’t share even a hint of what we know with others. Too many lives depend on our silence—not to mention, do you really think the likes of Don Weston would believe us?”
“Gary, how long have you known about the Carpathians?” Riley asked.
“For some time now,” he admitted. “Several years.”
“And in that time you’ve never told anyone else about them? Ever?” Her question made the two men go still, as if she had touched something sacred.
After a long silence, Jubal finally said, “Riley, you’re the first person either of us has ever told.” The way he said it made her wonder how these two men lived with such a big secret. How the world looked to them, as they went into coffee shops and airports, listened to news reports about unexplained events, knowing what they knew.
The ground under her seemed to shift a little. Riley looked down and sent a thought spiraling into the ground. Go to sleep. I’m not dealing with you right now.
Riley tried to put herself in Gary’s and Jubal’s shoes, to imagine what she’d do in their place. If an entire race of beings depended on her for survival, would she betray their trust and reveal their secrets to others? Or would she keep their secrets even if that meant she might put other people in danger?
Truth be told, she’d already made that choice. She and her mother, both. They had come here to this mountain to work the ritual that had been passed down from generation to generation. Her mother had known about the evil imprisoned in the mountain, but she hadn’t warned the others in their party. Neither had Riley, when the secret fell to her to keep. She’d done what needed to be done. Was she really any different than Gary and Jubal?
Dark Storm ('Dark' Carpathian Series) Page 19
