in a warm robe. Gathering her into his arms, he sat in the chair again, this time with his woman cuddled on his lap.
“When I was very young, he wanted to see how much Carpathian I had in me. I remember her crying. Trying to tell him not to do it. She whispered to me all night. Told me to be brave, that she was proud of me.”
“She?” he prompted.
“My birth mother. Francise. I don’t remember much about her, although I try to hold on to her, but I was so young when she died.”
“You said more than once?” He had to know. How could any man do such a thing to a child? He didn’t ask how old she’d been, but he knew, from what she’d told him, that her mother had died when she was very young.
“The second time I was twelve and had gotten my period. Carpathian women don’t have periods. Not like we do.”
“We? Julija, you are Carpathian.”
“I’m both. And mage women have periods, so when mine showed up, Anatolie was furious.” She pushed deeper into his chest, nuzzling with her cheek. “He talked to Crina and she convinced him he needed to be sure.”
Isai wanted to swear, but what was the use? That time she’d had no mother to whisper to her as she’d lain beneath the earth.
“It was the most terrifying night of my life. I thought a million times that I was going to suffocate. I could feel my air closing off, and I just don’t think I can do that again.”
“The third time? Was Barnabas involved?” He was just so certain. The man was cruel. He liked hurting things. Xaviero had been crueler than any other mage ever recorded. If Barnabas was his son, trained in his ways from childhood, there was a good chance that he was equally as cruel.
“He objected strenuously when Anatolie told him he was going to test me again. I don’t remember how old I was at that point, but years had gone by. Barnabas left angry and threatened retaliation if I was harmed. It felt strange to have him stand up for me and, more, to threaten revenge. In any case, I was able to get through the night, but I didn’t like it.”
He heard in her voice the struggle she’d had with sanity, but he didn’t question her further, wondering why Barnabas had passed up his chance to be cruel. “Was that before you knew he was involved in a cruel hoax on you?”
“Yes. When I first started attending his classes. Anatolie told him I was Carpathian but when he fed, he said he didn’t believe it. My blood wasn’t . . . intoxicating or powerful enough.”
There it was. Barnabas had deliberately sneered at blood that was both those things as well as compelling. There had never been a doubt in his mind that Julija was Carpathian, but he’d wanted to appear to her as a man who would stand up to her father. She still didn’t get that he had been the instigator, deliberately questioning so Anatolie would put her in the ground.
Isai didn’t enlighten her. It was over with. Barnabas hadn’t been showing her kindness at all. He kissed her upturned lips. “Let’s get you in the soil, but just like the other night. You will not be buried, Julija.”
He opened the earth right over the spot she’d been playing in earlier. Calling the cats to them, he slid down into the cool soil, removing her robe as he did so. Holding her close to him, he waited until all the cats were with them before he covered them with a thick blanket of dirt. All the cats wanted to be pressed close and under the soil. In the end he lay with his head out of the bed of dirt with his woman curled right into him. Only when she fell asleep did he cover himself completely.
18
The wind howled across the lake, carrying the promise of snow. Every gust sent a bitter cold, chasing the needles off the trees. At times the howl turned to shrieks of fury, as if winter herself was angry with waiting. Above, the clouds were heavy and growing darker with each passing hour. Although the moon was full, shining her light was difficult through the gray shadows crossing the night sky.
Julija shivered and moved closer to Isai. “I don’t like this weather. It came on too fast.”
“It is real, little mage,” he assured, curving his arm around