Razvan’s stomach lurched, and just like that his world spun away from him, collapsing into images of blood and screams and death. He dropped his arms and stepped back, turning away from her. “Why would you write such a vile thing? Why would you give him such honor as to set him down on paper and give him to history?”
Ivory turned at his low tone, caught his arm and stepped in front of him. His eyes were filled with horror. Nightmare memories. His were not the nightmares that evaporated because the mind played tricks, his were made of true memories that would last an eternity. She had inadvertently conjured up the images of his past.
“It is not to memorialize him. I have to hold his image when I work. The image I saw, so that I know him, so that I am never tricked as I work on his spells. He is evil. He will always be evil. He chose to be evil. And I have to keep my mind clear at all times. Razvan, I am sorry I hurt you with the image of him, but it is my protection.”
He wrapped her braid around his fist but he remained silent, drawing in breath, matching the rhythm of his heart to hers.
“When I work with his spells, Razvan, it is dangerous. I cannot tell you how dangerous. You said you were not good with spells. Well, I am, but to be so, I have to form the words in my head, conjure up the images to go with them, and I cannot make any mistakes when I am working with his spells.”
He took another deep breath, visibly fighting to get his control back. “I still do not understand.”
She gestured around the room. “This is my fortress. Solid rock. He cannot come here. He cannot trace me through the solid rock, but if I make a mistake, if I forget for one moment who and what I am dealing with, then I make myself vulnerable.”
He frowned. “Even here?”
“He is utterly evil. The first line says it all. ‘The mage walks forth as the Hell Gate closes.’ He is not entirely earthly. He has visited hell and returned, needing the blood of others to survive.”
His frown deepened. “I lived with him for hundreds of years. He is evil, yes, but he is not a demon. He is mage.”
She nodded. “Yes, he is mage. There is always a balance in the universe. Where there is good, there must also be evil. One can use the earth’s natural elements to weave for good. It is done all the time for healing and other things our people need. One can also weave spells for evil, calling upon demons and bargaining with them.”
“I know that he does that. I have seen foul creatures in his caverns, but I have never seen portals to another world or another realm that even a mage can walk through.”
“No, I am certain he would not be foolish enough to allow anyone to know what happened. He wants to appear all-powerful to everyone—even to himself. He needs that illusion. As far as I can tell, as far back as when I attended his school, he was using apprentices to write spells and then he used those spells as the base for his own. He can no longer come up with new spells, I am certain of it. Each mage has a rhythm, a twist in how they cast and what they use, a signature, if you will. Xavier’s spells cover a multitude of other mage’s spells.”
Razvan ran agitated hands over his face and then through his streaked hair. “What else have you learned by studying him?”
She ran her hand down his arm to soothe him. “I know it is disturbing to speak of him.”
The feeling of her fingers on his skin shook him. As long as he lived, he would never get over the wonder that she had been chosen for him. “Your description fits him so well. I lived with him and thought I knew him better than anyone living, yet . . .” He gestured toward the book and her flowing, obviously offensive words. “Yet you managed to convey the very essence of him.”
“I hope you are right, Razvan. I am staking both our lives on this.” She took his hand and tugged until he followed her out of the room. They sank into the chairs in the memory room. “I have to know you are with me on this, Razvan. It will not be easy and I cannot have you hesitate when we confront him.”
He leaned back in the chair and regarded her steadily. “You never have to worry that I would hesitate. We are in this together. It is my choice. I made it when you asked me to live. I knew then we would go after him.”
She allowed herself a sigh of relief. She shouldn’t have doubted him. He had the courage to be whatever she needed. He found no shame in following her lead. No hesitation in accepting their destiny. He was more of a man than any other she knew.
“You know what I think, Razvan? I believe Xavier has to find another body. He was not merely possessing you, leaving pieces behind in you to stay in control. I believe he was looking for a host body and a way to enter it, to claim it completely and make the body his own. He wanted to be Carpathian. You were born with Dragonseeker blood running in your veins, known to be one of the most powerful lineages, if not the most powerful. He coveted that bloodline. That is why he went after Rhiannon. And that is why he drank the blood of her children and grandchildren. He craves a body from the Dragonseeker bloodline.”
“No Dragonseeker has ever turned.” There was no pride in his voice. It was merely a statement. “I would not allow him to make me the first.”
She smiled at him, her smile lifting him back from the shadowy place that he had dropped into. “No, you did not. And you saved all of us. No one will know what you did, but I know, Razvan. If he had acquired a Dragonseeker body as was his goal, there is no way to judge the harm he would have done.”
He took her hand, played with her fingers, shaking his head a bit. “It is my stubbornness.”
“It is your immeasurable courage,” she corrected. “It is not as if anyone could have endured as you did.”
He brought her fingers to his mouth and bit gently. “You will make me blush.”
She doubted that. He had no ego. None. He simply accepted his life and lived in the moment, focusing his entire attention on what he was doing and giving his best to whatever task was at hand. She did a little blushing thinking of how he focused so completely on her when they made love. Nothing else was in his mind but giving her pleasure. It was an intoxicating, exhilarating experience, and one she was already addicted to. She lost herself in him so completely, and found herself wanting to give him that same complete focus.
“My entry in that diary is the formula with which we will defeat him.”
Everything in him stilled. “We are going to bait a trap.”
She kept her eyes steadily on his. “Yes, we are. He needs a body. And he needs heart’s blood. Dragonseeker blood.”
“You are going to ask me to put myself in his hands once again.”
His voice was strictly neutral and his mind was firmly closed to hers. Her heart contracted. There was no expression. No condemnation. No judgment whatsoever. He merely waited her answer, his fingers still on hers. Sometimes, like now, his courage terrified her. His belief in her shocked her.
“You would put yourself into his hands if I asked you to, wouldn’t you?” she said, her stomach knotting.
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “I could not
ever
conceive of putting you anywhere near where that evil mage could get his hands on you.”
For the first time he stirred and something crossed his face so swiftly she couldn’t quite catch it, but it made her nervous. “Just what or who is the bait?”
“I now have Dragonseeker blood running in my veins. When I open them and leave tracks, he will be unable to resist. I am a woman and he will think me easily controlled.”
He sat back in his chair, his lips drawn into a tight, implacable line. Tiny embers smoldered in the depths of his eyes, but again, he went silent—waiting.
“I have thought this through, Razvan,” she hastily explained. “It is all there. He will come for me, darkly handsome, taking your form, using his mind to draw me to him. He will want to seduce me, and he will open his arms to bring me in close to him.”
“No.”
“You know I am right. This is the way.”
“No.” Razvan rose and called to the pack. “I am taking the wolves running. Would you care to join us?”
“We need to discuss this.”
“There is no discussion. Are you coming?” He moved away from her with swift, long strides, snapping his fingers and calling to the pack.
Ivory stood for a long moment, unsure whether to be angry or happy that he would be so protective. No one had wanted to protect her, not since she was a young girl and her brothers and the De La Cruz family had surrounded her with love. Ten men doting on her had made her feel like a princess—a smothered one at times, but still a princess. Razvan had gone through so much with Xavier. He just needed to get used to the idea.
She was astonished when she saw him spread his arms as she did, and Blaez and Rikki leapt onto his back, merging into his skins as tattoos. For one moment she found herself a little upset. The pack had never been divided. They were her family.
“The pack is not divided,” Razvan said. “We are a family.”
He was back to his usual calm. Matter-of-fact. Or maybe he always had been. Even saying an adamant
no
to her, he had not raised his voice or sounded upset, just implacable.
She nodded in agreement. “Yes, we are. It is a good thing for both of us to carry the wolves. They will guard our backs.”
He flashed a small, tentative grin, removing the years from his face until he looked almost boyish. “It is amazing to be so accepted by them.”
She felt that peculiar wrenching in the vicinity of her heart that he often produced in her. His simple pleasure touched her. “Where are we going?”
“I want to go to the place where you found the soil for our bedchamber.”
“The cave of gems.”
He nodded. “The soil is pure, so we know that Xavier has not had a chance to spread his poison everywhere. I would like to find how far the infection has spread, how large of an area there actually is. I cannot believe this would be the only place. Once we know how to look, we can send word to other Carpathians to check their soil.”
“You believe we can cleanse it?”
“I absolutely believe
you
can,” he said.
She tried not to feel a ridiculous glow, but there it was, a silly ember that spread through her body like heat. It truly was frightening how she reacted to him. Embarrassed, she held her arms out and allowed the remainder of the pack to merge with her skin before scanning above them to ensure there was no way anyone could observe them leaving their lair.
They went out into the night, streaking fast through the dark, clear sky. Stars glittered high overhead, spreading a fantasy blanket over them, wrapping them in beauty that never failed to move Razvan. Ivory felt it through him. The wonder. The majesty. The miracle.
She had never looked at her surroundings that way, but with Razvan, she saw everything through new eyes. He felt as if he was sailing across the moon, sliding down a comet, playing hide-and-seek through the constellations. He raced through the scattered bits of vapor rising off the ribbon of a river and she experienced all of it with him. She had flown as an owl thousands of times, but never once had it been so fun or exhilarating.
The owls glided on silent wings over the snow-covered ground as they crossed above a meadow, the female moving into the lead, dropping low to gain the protection of the forest for as long as possible. They flew fast, banking sharply around the trees and through the branches, so soundless the rodents still scurried below, unaware of the danger above them.
They broke from the forest just as the floor dropped away to a valley running between two long mountain ranges, far from the ice caves of Xavier and miles away from the Carpathian village. The owls changed color to make it more difficult to be seen. Razvan went snowy white, while Ivory was darker white with a few dusky spots on her wings, indicating a female.
Let the owl guide your thoughts
, Ivory cautioned.
Anyone scanning might find one of us within the owl’s body if we are not careful
.
She had been careful every day of her life since the moment she had clawed her way out of the earth a century after the brutal attack on her. He didn’t respond, although he wanted to. He found the warrior in her sexy. Instead he brushed her with warmth and then simply let go of his self, merging deeply within the owl so, should an enemy be seeking them, their adversary would never suspect anything but owls winging their way across the valley.
The moment he allowed the owl completely to the forefront, he was astonished at the bird’s ability to hear and see. The thick white plumage, soft and dense, extended to his toes, covering and insulating his body. Soft fringe on the flight feathers muffled the sound, allowing him to soar ghostlike across the sky.
Ivory dropped low, skimming close to the ground now, and Razvan followed, enjoying every second of the silent flight, watching the wind ruffle his mate’s feathers as she glided along mere feet above the ground, making them smaller targets. She suddenly rose sharply, wings beating powerfully to bring her high, up toward a peak and then plunging over the other side, talons outstretched as if hunting prey.
Just before they hit the ground, Ivory moved in his mind with a sharp command.
Shift
.
He landed on his feet, crouching low instinctively on a small outcropping nearly at the very base of the mountain. Ivory did another slow, careful scan of the area and Razvan followed suit.
“This place is sacred. I was directed here by Mother Earth, to this place of immense power. There are magic metals here, and gems for any occasion. The soil is rich and has never been used by any other than me.”
He bowed low, a gesture of respect. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“You are my lifemate.” Ivory said it casually, but inside her stomach knotted.
This was her favorite place, just as his garden had been his. She wanted him to feel the same way about it as she did, to love the spectacular cave, the feel of the soil, to see the beauty of the gems and realize the richness of the metals. Most of all she wanted him to realize the honor they both had been given by their earth mother. No one had ever walked inside the cave before her, and no one would find it after her.