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Dark Tarot (Dark #31)(11)

Author:Christine Feehan

“I’m about to see if you’ve got anyone waiting inside for you.” He quickly scanned her apartment. It was empty. “We’re safe to go inside.”

She didn’t ask him how he could tell. That would come later. Just as claiming her would come later—just before dawn. He needed his brethren to help him safeguard her through the day. They would be in the ground and she would be vulnerable to attack.

Adalasia hurried to a back entrance and used a code on the heavy metal door. It unlocked and she went in, Sandu right behind her. She didn’t waste time. She rushed to her bedroom, pushed the bed aside and yanked a small bag from a compartment in the floorboards.

“I have to change.”

Sandu didn’t see, nor did he quite understand why she was shooing him out of her bedroom, but he stepped into the wide living area, where there were several comfortable-looking chairs. The room seemed spacious in spite of the fact that there was no definition between it and the kitchen or eating area. It was clean and appeared warm and welcoming. Everything in the apartment seemed older, as if even the furniture was restored antiques modernized to be comfortable.

He reached out to four of his brethren, ancients who had been secreted in the monastery because they had become too dangerous to remain outside of it. Some had remained for centuries; others had come and gone. Like Sandu, they had come to the States to help out one of their own.

Benedek, I have need of you. I’ve found my lifemate and there is trouble. Sandu used the path of monastery brotherhood, one not known to all Carpathians. Benedek Kovac was a fierce fighter. Like most of the ancients, he was a big man, brutal and vicious when it was called for, with midnight black eyes and flowing black hair. For all of his predatory, feral ways, he was an incredible artist.

Where do we meet?

Sandu told him. He called to his next brother. Petru, I have need of you. I have found my lifemate and there is trouble. If possible, would you be willing to meet us at the caves?

Petru Cioban was a brother to have at one’s side in a battle. His unusual mercury-colored eyes gave the appearance of liquid silver. Sometimes a storm settled there, and that silver turned darker, but it was always a mercury and so unique there was no looking away when he wanted to mesmerize. His hair was just as unusual. The same silvery-white color as his eyes, it covered his scalp and hung thick and long down his back, held in tight bands to keep it under control.

Petru was an ancient with instincts for strategy, for taking down the enemy in unusual ways. He could fight with any weapon and was lightning fast with them.

I will be there, he agreed without hesitation.

Sandu was grateful, but not surprised, that his brethren had responded so quickly with affirmations. A lifemate was sacred. The lifemate of an ancient was extremely sacred. Each of them carried that oath on their backs. They might hide it from the world, but it was there, carved into their skin, an oath to their lifemate that they would stay strong for her no matter what it took or how long it took to find her.

Nicu, I have need. I have found my lifemate and we are in trouble. I do not know where my quest will take me, but I am looking for brethren willing to accompany us on our journey. If you can travel with us, meet us at the caves.

Nicu Dalca was an ancient worn from the centuries of battling master vampires, chasing them across continents and having to kill childhood friends who had turned. Still, he held on to his honor, staying true to his oath. He had been in and out of the monastery, coming for a respite when the battles became too much but leaving to look for his lifemate when the call was strong enough.

He was leaner than some of the other ancients, but all muscle. Grim-faced, gray-eyed, with long black hair, he had a scar that curved from his left temple and eye. He was lightning fast in a fight. There was something in him that animals responded to. All animals. If he was in the vicinity, unlike most animals that ran from Carpathian hunters, recognizing they were predators, they responded to Nicu. They guarded him, spied for him, even the fiercest of them.

I will be there.

Nicu sounded a great distance away. That didn’t surprise Sandu. Nicu was restless, just as Sandu had been. More and more, he traveled away from the Carpathian stronghold. Sandu had been fairly certain he would welcome a dangerous journey and protecting a lifemate of one of the ancients.

Afanasiv Belan was a brother who could be unpredictable when it came to fighting vampires. He was a vicious, brutal strategist, well versed in magic, extremely intelligent. He could outsmart most master vampires when he chose. Sometimes, he simply chose to do battle, hand to hand, roaring through the skies as if he had a death wish—and he might well have.

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