Razvan’s fingers settled around her wrist and he pulled her to him. “You are a miracle to me, Ivory, whether you think so or not. This place”—he swept one arm in a circular motion, taking in the giant cave—“this may save my daughter. She has been through so much, and as always, you seem to be the key to my happiness. If I can ease her suffering and that of her lifemate, I will feel as if I at least partially redeemed myself.”
“Xavier possessed you, Razvan,” she reminded gently. “I shared your memories and saw what he did. The fault was not yours.”
He shrugged and tucked stray tendrils of hair, which had pulled loose from her braid, behind her ear. “I should have been more careful in my wording of things. I grew up with a mage. I know that words carry power, yet I continued to make mistakes that cost those I loved dearly.”
“You were fourteen years old the first time he took you, and you gave up your life so your sister would be safe. You were a child, Razvan,” she said.
His smile was gentle. “You are so fierce in your defense of me,
hän ku kuulua sívamet
—keeper of my heart, yet you should be called
hän ku meke pirämet
—defender.”
“I am the keeper of your heart,” she said, “and I will defend you to the death, Razvan. You are an extraordinary man and I am proud to be your lifemate.” She ducked her head, embarrassed as always when she showed too much emotion. “We should go back to our home so we can study the soil and see if we truly have your answers.”
He caught her chin and took a kiss. Just one. But he savored her, the taste and texture of her, savored the scent and feel of her. When he lifted his head he smiled. “
Päläfertiil
—mate.”
Just the way he said that single word made her weak inside. Soft. Tender. Sexy. She smiled back at him. “That I am.”
17
“T
he life-form had to have first been in the meteorite,” Ivory said and slumped down, her arms cushioning her head. “I should have known. It is iron rich.”
“How did it survive coming to Earth?” Razvan asked, rubbing her shoulders.
“I have no idea, and frankly, I do not even care at this point. The soil is teeming with them and, so far, every time you have brought me contaminated soil, they rush to surround the mutated microbes and destroy them while leaving everything else intact.” She turned her head to one side to look up at him. “Do you know where the microbes are produced?”
“Xavier’s largest factory was destroyed and he moved to his fortress deep under the mountains. I can find it. But the microbes are not in the soil there. He leaks them down a glacier to feed the water systems and spread to the soil. The last time I hunted for us near the village just below the glacier, I overheard the local midwife speaking of the high rate of miscarriages. I fear the contamination has spilled over into humans. If the microbes infected their gardens, they could begin to suffer the fate of our species.” He massaged her neck with gentle fingers. “You need to rest, Ivory.”
She had been working steadily for three weeks straight, never leaving the lair, not even for food. Razvan had hunted for the pack and for Ivory. He had taken the wolves running nightly and had gathered soil samples from dozens of places, bringing each back to her, but Ivory refused to go with him, preferring to stay and conduct her experiments. She looked pale and worn, with dark circles under her eyes.
“I have a bad feeling, Razvan,” Ivory said. But she gave a small sigh of pleasure as his fingers worked their magic, easing the knots out of her neck. “It has been growing in me for some time now and I feel the need to get this done fast.”
He was silent and she looked up at him to catch the expression on his face. Ivory sat up quickly and turned to face him. “You have felt it, too.”
He nodded. “Growing stronger all the time and the pack has been strangely restless.”
“Something is wrong.”
He didn’t want to agree with her, not when she was so worn, but his every instinct told her she was right. “We have to go to the prince with what we have,” he said.
She bit her lip. “I think I am right, Razvan, but I am always so meticulous. I would repeat the experiments a thousand more times and document more evidence. I am still working on the spell to change the existing mutations for when we find his factory.”
She pushed her hand through her hair in agitation. “There is still so much work. You cannot just rush this kind of thing. If we make a mistake, we could do as much harm as Xavier, no matter what our intent.”
They stayed up into the morning hours when her skin hurt and blistered, despite being so far beneath the ground—an aftermath, he knew, of spending more than a century beneath the earth to heal her horrendous wounds. She sank into the sleep of their people. Ivory often woke before she should, agitated and on edge. Her body was unable to move while her mind raced with worry. Razvan made love to her often, easing the tension in her, but she couldn’t stop the obsessive drive that kept her working nonstop. Even the soil couldn’t seem to rejuvenate her.
He pulled a brush from the table and began to run it gently through her hair, knowing she always found that soothing. He did as well. The feel of the silken strands against his skin served as a reminder to him of the absolute wonder of finding her when there had never been a moment of hope of such a miracle.
“How close are you to reversing the spell?”
“I will not know until I try it, Razvan.” There was a hint of despair in her voice. “I am beginning to see the enormity of what Lara and Nicolas have faced. They do not dare convert her and bear the death of our children on their souls, yet how can they continue without a life of their own?”
Razvan’s smile above her head was tranquil. “You endured. I endured. Such is life, Ivory. We hope our children do not have to struggle as we have, but living life well and handling adversity shapes character. I am proud of Lara for her choices and would not take away from her the chance for service to others. She has many years she can continue to live well before it is necessary to convert her. If we fail, she will endure as we did. At the end of the day, we can only say we did our best. We cannot control others, just ourselves.”
Ivory felt his quiet stillness, the peaceful calm that kept him so composed in difficult situations. She allowed that serenity to seep into her and soothe her own turbulent mind. With each stroke, the brush seemed to pull more of the tension out of her soul. Razvan was right. They could only do their best and that was what they had done.
She realized, as he divided her hair into three thick strands and began a tight weave, that she had wanted to show the Carpathian people that Razvan was no criminal to be mistrusted, but was, in fact, a great man who had sacrificed for all of them. Razvan didn’t want that. He didn’t care about others’ opinions. He simply was. That was how he lived his life. He did his best and didn’t try to control others.
She took a deep breath. “Okay. I say we go then, find out what is happening and let the prince make the decision to try a larger experiment or keep working. I also need to try the reversing spells on microbes that are out in the field. There is no point in attacking the factory if we cannot permanently stop his work.”
“The more Xavier is harassed, the less time he has to do damage,” Razvan said gently. “If this does not work for us, then we can buy ourselves time by taking down his fortress and making him move again.”
She started to turn her head to look at him over her shoulder, but he tugged on her hair, preventing her. Ivory frowned. “We cannot take a chance on losing him. If he disappears . . .”
“I can find him. Anywhere. Anytime.”
She waited a heartbeat until her pulse settled. “How?”
“He took my blood for well over a hundred years, Ivory. He left pieces of his dark, depraved soul within me. I will draw him as no other.”
She clamped down hard on the surge of bile rising suddenly at the idea of Razvan in Xavier’s hands. “You would use yourself as bait.”
“Of course. To draw him to us. He would come.”
His hands were steadier than hers as he secured the tie on her braid. She knew because she reached back and laid her hands over his. “No.” A single word.
His
single word to her. Now she knew how he’d felt when she’d suggested using herself as bait.
He didn’t argue, but then she was getting used to his ways. That didn’t mean agreement. He simply bent down and kissed the side of her neck, right over her rapidly beating pulse.
“I mean it, Razvan. We will not destroy his present fortress, even if we need more time.”
His smile was placid, gentle, even tender. His palm cupped the side of her face. “As we do not know if you have succeeded, there is no reason for discord between us.”
She bit his fingers hard and glared at him. “Just so you know, there will be discord between us. A lot of discord. More than any man will ever want to have in his life.”
He burst out laughing, sticking his fingers in his mouth to ease the sting. “I will remember that.”
She gave him a sniff of annoyance and gathered weapons. Razvan had divided his time between helping her, caring for her and working on his proficiency with the various weapons she had. He was a quick learner with astonishing reflexes, and was very disciplined about his practice. He spent hours with the crossbow and sword each night. He practiced tumbling and hand-to-hand as well as throwing the arrowheads. He was quick and intelligent and she enjoyed his company, but most of all his tranquility. He had brought her peace and joy.
Razvan held out his arms and Blaez and Rikki leapt onto his back easily, merging into his skin until he was decorated with detailed tattoos just as the rest of the pack joined with Ivory. They gathered the soil and the documentation of the experiments, and scanned meticulously before streaming out into the night and streaking fast across the sky toward the Carpathian settlement.
As they flew across the forests and meadows, they spotted evidence of vampires passing through the vicinity. Blackened shrubbery. Withered branches. Split tree trunks. In one area it was obvious a battle had taken place: the ground was blackened.
Ivory sucked in her breath.
They are out in force
.
He will come for me
. Again his voice was absolutely calm.
No
.
Ivory dipped her wings and circled away from the ravaged wasteland below, taking them through a narrow pass and then over rolling hills dotted with small farms, but she felt his smile.
You will not be smiling long if you keep it up
.
I was just saying
.
You were provoking me
.
I would not do that
.
The female owl sent him a haughty look and began her descent, calling ahead to the prince to announce their presence. His house looked quiet. Deserted. She pulled up in alarm and settled into the tops of a tree to use the owl’s acute sight to examine the area around the house.
They left in a hurry and they did not shift
.
Raven is pregnant, fairly advanced in her pregnancy
, Razvan reminded her.
Is it possible it is her time?
The bad feeling inside of Ivory got worse.
Perhaps we should use our blood call to the healer
, she suggested uneasily.
Razvan didn’t hesitate. He went inside himself to find the strain of healer blood running through his veins and sent a call:
We have need to speak with the prince but find his home empty. We both are uneasy. Is there trouble?
There was a long silence, as if the healer might not answer, and then his voice came. Faint. Faraway. Stressed. Hesitant.
My lifemate cannot hold on to the babies. We are in the cave of healing, preparing a birth chamber. Lara and Nicolas have been injured
.
Razvan turned the owl’s head and looked at Ivory before launching himself into the air, the female following this time. There were no words to say. If Nicolas had been injured, they had to have been attacked—and attacked deliberately. The master vampire—or Xavier—had determined who was saving the unborn children and had made a bid to remove that obstacle to his plans.
But how did they know to attack Lara?
Razvan questioned, remembering that brief hesitation from Gregori.
They think I am a spy in their camp and that I gave up Lara to Xavier
.
Immediately Ivory dropped toward the ground, shifting form at the last moment to pace through the snow with quick long strides of energy, radiating a fury that couldn’t be mistaken. She had heard that small hesitation in the healer as well.
“We go, Razvan, and we could be walking into a trap. They might try to jump us, and if they do, we will have no choice but to fight our way clear.” She whirled around to face him, a slow hiss escaping. “Someone will die.”
Razvan regarded her with dark, somber eyes, leaning against a tree trunk with casual ease, watching her move like quicksilver through the snow. He loved her ferocious protection, the fine fury that shone through her, radiating out like the brightest moon.
“I will go alone.” He kept his tone quiet, very calm.
Her chin went up. “You will
not
be their sacrifice. They are upset. On edge. They need a scapegoat and they will make you one. We both know it.”
“One of us has to speak with the prince. You are the better warrior. I do not mind them putting their hands on me or searching me. You would never tolerate such a thing, nor would I be able to allow them to touch you without respect. If you go, there
will
be a fight. If I go, there is a chance we can get to the prince with our evidence and help them.”
“They do not deserve help.” She snapped the words at him, enunciating each one.
He folded his arms across his chest as she took up pacing again, her hands in tight fists at her sides. He said nothing, merely watched her through half-closed eyes.
She stopped in front of him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her heart there behind the tears swimming in her eyes. There was nothing more disarming than a warrior woman looking vulnerable and weeping. He lifted his hand to her face in wonder. “Don’t cry for me, Ivory. I have always lived with my choices. I have to see that Lara is safe. And I cannot let babies die if we have a way to save them, and neither would you.”