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Dark Tarot (Dark #31)(47)

Author:Christine Feehan

They took their time, meticulous in taking care to seal the safeguards, weaving them above and below and around the plane. Both of them used what they felt were right and then wove more together.

“Do you feel safe to tell me aloud, or would you rather talk telepathically, Adalasia?”

She had considered that option. She was getting used to the intimacy of their communication, but truthfully, she wasn’t as adept at finding the right words yet. She needed time to think each sentence out and then lay it out for him. If she needed to show him, then she would switch and use images in her head, but she felt it was better to take her time to explain than to have jumbled thoughts.

She also didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings. She didn’t understand every detail of her family history. To her, growing up, it had been a myth—an outrageous one that kept her apart from other children. She felt like a child out of time with the rest of the world—until she held the tarot cards in her hands.

“I need to choose my words with care, Sandu.” She had been standing in the middle aisle of the plane. She looked around a little helplessly, feeling exposed.

“I’ve gotten rid of our resting places, Adalasia. Come with me into the bedroom. It is much more secluded. I have noticed you like to take your shoes off when you are having difficult conversations.” He meant intimate ones. He held out his hand.

She hesitated only for a moment and then let him lead her back into the bedroom. The caskets were nowhere in sight, and he heard her breathe a sigh of relief.

Adalasia sat on the bed, tossing her shoes onto the floor. She was grateful to get rid of her shoes. Sandu also removed his shoes the human way, only when he did it, he kept his eyes on her, even as he bent over to loosen the leather cords of his boots. She found a gravitational pull happening, as if she could get lost in the dark well of his eyes. She wanted to never have to explain what she feared would greatly upset him in spite of his denials.

When Sandu set his boots aside, he sat on the bed, facing her, mirroring her position. Reaching back, he loosened the leather cord holding back his hair. He shook it out, and she found herself mesmerized by the waves of silver running through the darker caramel as it fell around his face and shoulders. She had an unexpected urge to bury her fingers in his hair and find his mouth with hers.

“Adalasia.” There was an ache in his voice.

The tone of his voice and the look on his face had an unexpected dark fist of desire forming like a knot low in her stomach. She didn’t need that, not when she had to get this out. She had damned him for not sharing, and she was every bit as much to blame for the separation between them.

“I have to tell you this. Fast. I was a child when my mother started training me to fight what she referred to as the Army of Nera. I learned to fight with various weapons, as well as hand-to-hand combat and also spells. Many, many spells. I don’t consider myself a witch. I’m not trained that way. I am only trained to defend the tarot cards. And you.” Her lashes swept down because she couldn’t look at him.

“Against this Army of Nera.”

“Yes. I thought it was a crock of shit until Castello showed up. Until my mother was murdered. Until the cards began warning me to be ready for you to come for me and I saw Castello was more than human.”

“You keep using that term, more. What do you mean by that?”

His voice was so calm. So steady. That kept her steady. On course. She could look at him again. There was no judgment. She should have known. This was the Sandu she’d first met. “I believe he is a member of her army. That would mean he is part demon. He is in the form of a human, but there is a demon inside of him directing his every move. They use animals. Rats. Screech owls.”

Sandu’s head went up alertly, and he glanced toward the door. “You should have told me this immediately, Adalasia. How can I protect you if you do not disclose everything to me?”

She pushed her forehead into the heel of her hand. “I know I was wrong to withhold anything at all from you. It’s just that it all seemed so preposterous, and I was afraid to tell you the truth. You were hiding things from me. I wasn’t a partner. Then, when I realized if we didn’t work together, neither of us was going to succeed, I almost told you, but I couldn’t bring myself to trust you.”

“Keep going. Get to the part where you think I would be angry. I am displeased with you holding back information that put you in danger. That does not anger me.”

“The story in my family is that a woman, Liona . . .” She watched him closely. He didn’t react at all. “Sandu. Do you not recognize that name?”

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