art of spells. Illusions were simply images that could mislead those who saw them, a misperception of reality—of actual nature. The overhead deception was nearly flawless. If she hadn’t been studying the stars, she would have missed it.
The fact was, Julija loved the night and in particular, the night sky. Her family knew that about her. If it was dark and clear, she was outside. She had a very good telescope up on the roof of their home to better study the stars. She could name every constellation. She was a walking encyclopedia of facts about the universe and everything in it. Her brothers would know that, and they would be careful in their choice of what instruments to use to find her.
They also knew she was a master of illusion. She knew there were better, but with the power running through her family’s veins, there was a time when her brothers considered her the best within that family. That had changed over the years. Now, they believed she’d been beaten so far down she could barely do any magic anymore. Still, they wouldn’t choose the stars unless they wanted her to know they were chasing her. It wasn’t to their benefit for her to know. She would make it all the more difficult for them—which, of course, she was already doing.
She knew her brothers were somewhere down below in the valley, looking for her. Not because there had been evidence, but she’d “felt” them in the way she felt the Carpathian she hunted. That was a gift she’d been born with, just like so many others. That was how she knew Elisabeta was close even when she couldn’t see her. Elisabeta’s captor had put her in a small cage and made her part of the rock and dirt inside an underground chamber. She’d been hidden in plain sight. But Julija knew illusion and she also could “feel” other living creatures.
She could almost always tell just how far someone was from her and in what direction she needed to go to find them. It wasn’t always the best thing, but she felt what they did. That was most likely the reason she couldn’t go along with her siblings in their plan to follow in Xavier’s footsteps and take over the domination of the world.
If her brothers weren’t using the stars to find her, it had to be a Carpathian, a very skilled one. The thought made her heart pound faster. She knew what the prince would think once they discovered who she was. She’d been in the vicinity of the book right before it was taken. They might even blame her and think Iulian was chasing her, trying to get the book of black art spells. That would make more sense than the other way around. The prince would know his Carpathian hunter hadn’t given in and become vampire.
A delicate little shudder went through her. She’d seen her fair share of vampires and she’d rather deal with a mage any day of the week. Elisabeta had been taken by an old family friend and then he’d deliberately turned vampire. She’d spent centuries in captivity, trained through violence and pain to do whatever she was told. She’d lived. She’d survived.
The Elisabeta from childhood was long gone. In her place was a woman terrified of life. Of living on her own. Of making a single decision. She hadn’t dared for centuries and now, just the thought was terrifying and overwhelming. Julija knew she wouldn’t be able to do it and would need help. She had intended to help her. Now, she wasn’t certain when she could get back to her only friend.
Julija knew the Carpathians were hoping to heal Elisabeta by leaving her in the ground, as was their custom. The earth’s properties, especially minerals, aided the species to heal faster, as well as rejuvenated them each day as they slept. The earth might heal Elisabeta’s body, but not her heart, not her soul, nor could it help with the emotional toll those centuries had taken on her. She would be utterly lost.
Julija couldn’t imagine that any of the omnipotent Carpathian hunters would have any understanding of how completely Sergey Malinov, the man who’d kidnapped her, had shaped her life. Elisabeta had been young and he’d shaped her into a woman who was totally submissive and had no idea how to be anything else. Julija knew the chances of her becoming anything different were slim to none—not with centuries of developing that