Dark Illusion - Christine Feehan Page 0,111

He should have felt sorrow for his lost brother. He’d never known him, but he’d always hoped he was still somewhere in the world. Isai was now the last of his line. Perhaps there was sorrow, but no grieving. There wouldn’t be that. His brother had gone honorably from the world when he missed his chance with his lifemate. He hadn’t succumbed to darkness or temptation as so many others had.

Something came close to him and he glanced down to see Phantom taking tentative steps toward him. The moment he looked down, the cat whirled around and raced back to the female.

“He was trying to comfort you. He was drawn to you because you felt overwhelming sadness.”

“I didn’t,” he denied.

Julija frowned. “You really don’t acknowledge your emotions, Isai. I felt sadness pouring off of you. It is strange that you can’t.”

“I acknowledged that he met an honorable death,” he admitted, “but I didn’t feel as if I was grief-stricken. I acknowledge that I love you. I think you should be able to feel that pouring off me rather than sadness.”

She smiled, and that soft, sweet smile contained love—enveloped him in the emotion. He slid his palm around the nape of her neck. “I would much rather feel what I’m feeling at this moment, my little mage.”

“You often call me that. Sometimes in your language and sometimes in mine.”

“I never want either of us to forget that part of you. Being mage is extraordinary, something to be proud of. Just as Carpathians have those who turn vampire, mages have to worry that power corrupts, but for the most part, they are good people with astonishing gifts.”

Her lashes fluttered, and she went up on her toes to press kisses along his jaw. “Thank you. I don’t come from the best family. It seems my relatives are very interested in power.”

“That makes you all the more special.” He turned back to survey the campsites near the lake. There was the one with the two friends he’d already taken blood from. Just beyond the lake in a secluded area of trees and rock was one lone tent. No campfire. He hadn’t seen anyone come or go from that site. He nodded toward it now. “I do not feel any danger from the camper, but there hasn’t been any activity. I haven’t seen the occupant.”

She turned toward the direction he indicated and stayed silent for a moment. “I feel both men, Isai, but there is no information whatsoever coming from that other area. None. That bothers me.”

He was immeasurably pleased with her. She hadn’t given it a cursory glance and dismissed it. She’d actually allowed her senses to flair out and she’d studied it. There should have been something there. Humans didn’t cover their tracks, not the way Carpathians, vampires or mages often did. Of course, it might mean the tent was set up and whoever occupied it wasn’t there at the moment.

Julija caught his thought. “No, it’s more than that. Someone’s there. Waiting.”

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting long.”

Her eyelashes fluttered again, drawing his attention. He realized she did that when something made her nervous. “It’s a trap of some kind, Isai, and whoever it is, is targeting you. They know you’re Carpathian and they are hoping to lure you in. It isn’t bad odds that you would choose the lone camper versus the site with two men in it. They couldn’t know you would be trying to feed six cats as well as your . . . er . . . person.”

He burst out laughing. “Person? You are my person? Lifemate. Woman. Lover. I can think of several things to call you, but person would not have been among them.”

“You’re not all that funny,” Julija declared in a snippy tone, but she started laughing as well. “Okay, you might be. It was rather silly. I started to say ‘lifemate,’ but the word is so foreign to me. I never thought I’d really be someone’s lifemate.”

“Why? You knew you were. You hid your voice.”

She ducked her head to inspect the toe of her hiking shoes. “When I read about it, the concept seemed so beautiful. I made the mistake of telling Barnabas. I told him a lot of things I shouldn’t have. I’m still angry with myself for being so naïve. He taught classes on torture. He couched it in medieval terms, but I should have seen right through that. Sex and pain to bind someone to you? He was a brilliant instructor, mesmerizing. His

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