Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Yes, he has it in his belt, Natalya. He also carried a small bag that looked as if some live creature wiggled inside of it. Distaste was strong in Vikirnoff’s mouth.

  Natalya let her breath out slowly. Her father moved with such confidence she almost missed the fact that there was a pattern to his steps. The bogs held sink holes, the surface treacherous to those who didn’t know their way through.

  I have to start again.

  Vikirnoff remained silent, as careful as Natalya to mark the way through the bog. If they were to recover the book, they would need to know their way through the spongelike marsh. His own heart tried to regulate the pounding of his lifemate’s. Together they etched out the pattern of steps used to gain the middle of the most wild and overgrown part of the bog. Her father knelt carefully and pushed the book deep into the stained waters, watching it sink slowly beneath the surface. All the while his lips moved as he murmured something softly and his hands wove a graceful pattern in the air.

  Could you see his safeguards, Natalya? Vikirnoff had caught some of the spell, but it was unfamiliar to him.

  Yes. The weave is complicated, but given time, I can unravel the spell. His unspoken safeguard adds to the strength and complexity. I should be able to reverse the pattern and bring the book to the surface. I just don’t know if anyone wants such a heavy responsibility. I doubt the book can be destroyed easily.

  If you found it, others will be able to find it as well.

  We can destroy the knife. Natalya watched as her father got to his feet and began the arduous journey through the large peat bog back to solid ground. He walked as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As he neared the very edges where the sphagnum moss grew the thickest, she saw movement in the surrounding bushes. The leaves swayed and dark shadows glided from one shrub to another. Her father continued his journey, moving into the meadows, turning toward the nearest village.

  He came to a halt and pulled a squirming rabbit from the bag. She knew he had brought the animal as a sacrifice and she couldn’t look at Vikirnoff. She felt his disgust. She could see the dark shapes in the bushes directly behind her father. The urge to call out, to warn him was overwhelming.

  The dark shape leapt on him, wrestling the ceremonial knife from his hand and slashing it across her father’s calves. It wasn’t Xavier, but several of his minions, sent to bring her father back to the ice caves. He went down hard, the tendons cut so it was impossible to walk. Without preamble, the largest one lifted him and, ignoring his cries of pain, began to carry him back toward the mountain.

  Drop it now. Vikirnoff ordered, giving a hard “push” as he did so. His hands were already loosening around the handle. She did not need to see what her father had been subjected to as Xavier tried to get the whereabouts of the book from him. It was only good fortune that the dark mage’s henchmen had not seen Natalya’s father coming from the bog itself, but rather circling the outskirts of it.

  Natalya found her fingers obeying even when her mind tried to cling to the sight of her father. The knife slipped from her hand and Vikirnoff allowed the weapon to drop to the floor. “Destroy it,” she said. “I don’t care how you do it, just please get rid of it.”

  He wrapped her up in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth. “I will be happy to rid the world of it, Natalya, but we cannot take chances with the book. Xavier must have questioned his servants closely and he knows the area where they found your father. He must suspect the book is hidden somewhere in that region.”

  “Not necessarily. He may not know when my father actually hid the book. It may have been weeks earlier. He may have thought my father gave the book to your prince.” She laid her head back against his shoulder, grateful for the solid feel of him. Vikirnoff had somehow gone from enemy to her solid foundation. It had happened without her even being aware of it. Was it the binding words she railed so hard against? Or was it always sharing his mind and knowing his thoughts so intimately? Her hand slipped into his. “Without you, I would feel so alone.”

  His heart gave that funny little lurch that bothered him so much. Natalya was a fighter, a woman of tremendous courage and Razvan’s betrayal was breaking not only her heart, but her spirit. Vikirnoff found it was the last thing he wanted. He had grown fond of his tigress and her astonishing smart mouth. He didn’t want her broken and bruised or so vulnerable even when she was turning to him for comfort.

  He caught her chin and drew her head around so he could find her mouth with his, kissing her long and making a thorough job of it. When her eyes had gone opaque with desire and she was matching his hunger, he pulled away abruptly. “I’m so pleased you finally see that I was right all along.”

  She blinked, drawing a little away from him, wariness creeping into her expression. “Right? About what?”

  “The ritual binding words of course. It was a good thing I said them and tied us together. With your stubbornness we probably would still be dancing around one another.”

  “My stubbornness?” Her green eyes glittered at him. “I think you invented the word.” She pushed a hand through her tawny hair, sweeping it off her face to glare at him. “In fact, if you look up the word ‘stubborn’ in the dictionary, your picture is right there as the definition.”

  Vikirnoff thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He wrapped the ceremonial knife in a white cloth and tucked it inside his shirt, out of her sight. “You still have not wanted to admit it was the best thing I could have done for both of us.”

  She scrambled to her feet, sliding weapons into the loops on her pants. “And it will be a cold day in hell before I ever do. I don’t think bringing that up is in your best interest, but thank you for trying to distract me.” She blew him a kiss. “I don’t really rise that easily to bait.”

  “Sure you do. You cheated. You were lurking in my mind.”

  “I wanted to see what you really thought about just leaving the book where it is. I have reservations about turning it over to your prince.” She thrust the pair of Arnis sticks into the loops on her belt. “I’m not certain it would be entirely safe with him.”

  “Because Razvan is plotting to kill him.”

  She winced but nodded as she strapped on her twin holsters. “Razvan’s very good at what he does, and quite frankly, with the vampires, Xavier and Razvan against him, I don’t think your prince is up to it.”

  Vikirnoff watched as she slid extra clips into several compartments of her pants. He was very aware she was pleased with his creation, nearly matching her original design, but improving slightly so she could move easier and reach whatever she needed quickly. “Mikhail will not be defeated by any of them.”

  “How do you know that? You don’t even know him. I searched your mind for memories of him, but he was not fully grown when you left these lands. How do you know his strength? Why do you even trust him? That book is more dangerous than you can know and no Carpathian prince will easily destroy it, nor can he hope to wield its power. Once the book is in his hands, they will send everything and everyone they have after him. You’ll be condemning him to death.”

  “Mikhail Dubrinsky will not be defeated by those who seek his death. He is extremely powerful, Natalya. It is in his blood, bred into his very genes, his bone and spirit and veins. He can be wounded, yes, but when push comes to shove, he can unleash a power greater than Xavier imagines. Mikhail will find a way to destroy the book and in the meantime, he will protect it.”

  She turned to face him, staying partly in the shadows to hide her expression. “What if I don’t want to turn the book over to him, Vikirnoff? You never asked me how I felt about it. You assumed I’d be willing, but I am not someone to follow so easily.”

  Vikirnoff studied every nuance of her tone, for the first time uncertain if she was challenging him to make a point, or if she really meant it. Her mind was closed to him, and, although he could breach the barrier she had erected, it seemed an insult when she clearly wanted her privacy.

 
Of course they had to turn the book over to the prince. What else would they do with it? He paced away from her, knowing she would read his agitation, but he didn’t care. “What would you want to do with the book?” He made every effort to keep his tone flat, without any inflection whatsoever.

  Natalya shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet, but I’m not about to be railroaded into something I’m not certain is the right thing to do. The book is enormously powerful. It contains thousands of spells, magick so complicated and so dangerous that I don’t think any but a mage should ever possess it.”

  Vikirnoff stiffened. “You would use this book?” His gut churned with protest and his lungs began to burn for air.

  Her eyes took on a faint amber glow. Bands of light streaked across her face and hair as she shifted closer to the candlelight, reaching for the long sword in its scabbard against the wall of the cavern. At once she was far more difficult to see, blending into the shadows.

  “If I chose to use the book it would be my business, Vikirnoff. You cannot dictate to me that I must retrieve this book and then turn it over to someone I don’t know, I don’t trust and I don’t respect.”

  Vikirnoff remained silent, forcing back his first response. She knew very little about his people and it was true, he had arbitrarily decided for her what she should do with the book once she had recovered it. And he was pushing her to recover it. Natalya was not a woman to be forced into anything. Right now she felt cornered and she was fighting back. “Have I earned your respect?”

  Her amber eyes glittered, taking on the eerie glow of the night creature. “Yes, of course. One has nothing to do with the other. You aren’t Mikhail Dubrinsky. You aren’t asking me to give you the book for safeguarding, you’re telling me to give it to him.”

  “Would you give me the book?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. “But not to give away. Only to safeguard.”

  Vikirnoff let his breath out. She disarmed him so easily. The tension began to ease from his body. “Do you want to keep this thing? I think of it as evil. Am I wrong to feel that way about it?”

  “The blood of my grandmother and two others sealed this book. Of course I think of it as evil and more than ever, that means it can’t fall into the wrong hands. I don’t know your prince and I don’t find memories of him in you. How do you know his heart or his soul, Vikirnoff? You want to hand him a weapon that could be the ruin of us all and yet you do so on blind faith.” She shook her head. “I can’t do it.”

  “Are you concerned that Mikhail will be in more danger?”

  “Partly.”

  “No one has to know he has the book. He will not try to wield the power, only to study Xavier’s plan to rid the earth of our species. Xavier must have spent centuries developing a spell to use against my people.”

  “I’m certain he did. The point is this. You asked me to locate the book and I did. Now you want me to recover the book and hand it over to someone I don’t know. Does that make sense to you?”

  “If you trust me, then there is no problem. We do not want to keep this thing.”

  “Isn’t it better to leave it where it is for the time being and if it becomes apparent Xavier is getting close to discovering its whereabouts, then retrieve it?” Natalya stepped out of the shadows. “Don’t ask me to do this, Vikirnoff. I can’t go against what I feel is right, not even for you.”

  “You believe it is better to leave the book there? Why do you think vampires are looking for psychic women who have the ability to touch objects and read the past? Why do you think so many have gathered here? A war between vampires and Carpathians? I believe they are searching for the book. Xavier knows your father was found near the peat bogs. He has to be searching there.”

  “The safeguards will hold.”

  “Will they? Who taught your father the safeguards? Who taught you? Even Razvan knows the safeguards you use. They will not hold and I think you know that.”

  “Then I’ll guard the book. I’ll hide it somewhere else, halfway around the world, somewhere he’ll never think to look.”

  “Natalya.”

  She threw her head back, exposing her throat, but her fists were knotted at her sides. Her name. Just that, nothing else, a wealth of expression in his voice. “I’ll find the damn book, Vik, but I’m not handing it over to the prince until I’m certain it will be safe.”

  “That is good enough for me, ainaak enyém, I cannot ask for more.” He held out his hand. “Let us go find it.”

  17

  The peat bogs were unexpectedly as beautiful as they were eerie. Natalya paced carefully around the nearest edges just along the pine forest, where the water drained from above and seeped up from below to form the enormous marsh. Sphagnum moss grew in abundance, the feathery stems and leaves stretched out invitingly over the surface beckoning her to come closer. Orchids and a dozen other plants flowered in or around the dark water. The ground, even close to the edges was spongy and each step she took shook the nearby trees. “Some of these plants are huge.”

  “They are carnivorous. They eat insects,” Vikirnoff said.

  “Still . . .” Natalya glanced up at the mountain rising sharply above them. Parts of it were totally obscured by the thick mist. Pine trees grew in abundance and some low branches partially dipped into the wide bog, so that needles floated on the surface along with the thick vegetation. She pressed her palm over the birthmark that warned her when vampires were near. “I don’t think we’re being watched. Do you feel any danger?”

  “Not from vampires, but lately I haven’t been able to feel them close by. I think it has something to do with the parasites in their blood. I have no idea how they mask their presence, but it seems to be effective.” He was still uneasy. The forest pressed too close and the smell of the peat bog was overwhelming. “Can you unravel the safeguards from here, Natalya?” There was more fighting room. He preferred the solid ground to the spongy, waterlogged terrain.

  “No. I’ll have to be in the exact spot my father was. He’ll have set it up that way as part of the protection. If they come, you’ll have to keep them off of me while I retrieve the book. Once they know we’re looking here, they’ll drain the bog before giving up.” The marsh was huge with sinkholes everywhere. In the moonlight, the stagnant water appeared deep and treacherous, despite the many plants blooming on the surface.

  “You be very careful, Natalya.” It was an unnecessary thing to say, but her hesitation, coupled with the heavy oppressive weight settling between his shoulder blades, increased his feelings of unease.

  Natalya tossed him a quick, saucy grin. “Careful is my middle name.”

  Vikirnoff scowled at her. “This is a serious situation, Natalya.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “Really? I would never have guessed. I thought maybe it would be cool, campy fun like in The Creature from the Black Lagoon. It didn’t actually occur to me that it could be serious.”

  “There is such a thing as overconfidence.” There was a small pause. “What is The Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

  Natalya shook her head in disgust. “Just what have you been doing all these years? Don’t you ever watch television? The Creature from the Black Lagoon is a classic. A must-see movie right up there with King Kong and Godzilla. You had to have watched them.” When he looked blank, she sighed. “A scientist becomes this mutant creature and lives in the lagoon . . .” She trailed off. “Never mind, but we have to work on educating you about movies. You’re missing some great stuff. It’s education. How do you think I learned about vampires?”

  Vikirnoff shook his head. “I do not even want to know.”

  “Movies, of course. I’ve decided I’m going into the film business. I can make great vampire films.” She took her first step onto the thin layer of earth that stretched over the waters of the bog. “These mountains make a perfect setting, with the way the wind can’t reach certain areas and blasts others, and how the fog lies in so thick, not to mention all the bogs and ice caves.”


  “I think it’s been done,” he answered. His voice was husky and she glanced at him sharply.

  Vikirnoff’s heart beat in his throat as he watched her following in her father’s precise footsteps, a pattern they had both memorized. It didn’t matter that she was so careful and light on her feet, almost gliding as she placed her feet on the tufts of grass, he was afraid for her. Fear took on an entirely new meaning when it was for a loved one.

  Love. He tasted the word—tried it out tentatively. How did one equate the terrible, overwhelming emotion that had somehow crept up on him with that small word? Did he feel this way because she was his lifemate? Or because of who she was? What she was? He couldn’t image wanting a woman without her penchant for late night movies. And as exasperating as it could be, when she didn’t have a sassy, smart comment to make, it worried him. Was it love to wake up thinking of her before anything else? For centuries hunger had been his every waking thought and yet now, even that had taken a back seat.

  Natalya paused staring down at the two small blocks of grass, side by side, both looking as if they were solid. “Look at this, Vik, does this look the same? I don’t remember two patches so close to one another.”

  He swore under his breath as he took to the air and hovered just above her. There had not been two patches so close together. Over time, the bog had changed, plants growing, multiplying, and dying off naturally. Natalya was risking stepping into a sinkhole by following the pattern her father had provided. “We could try finding the last step and I could carry you to that spot.”

  Natalya shook her head, glancing at him sharply. “The pattern is part of the safeguard.”

  Vikirnoff was ashamed of himself. He had known the steps were important, just as she did, but as she got deeper into the bog, his uneasiness grew stronger. He was well aware of the weather patterns in the Carpathian Mountains, of the places where there was a lack of wind and the fog hung for weeks on end. He knew there was fire and ice beneath the mountains and that many oddities were really natural and not made by either Carpathian or vampire, yet the stillness in the valley was oppressive to him and the stagnant water, so naturally the color of old blood had become sinister.