of his cage. Vadim watched him. It burns, doesn’t it? The hunger. It eats away at you until you can’t think of anything else. That need. Every waking moment it is there with you. You had your chance to join us, but you were too stupid to see the reality of what the Dubrinsky line was doing—becoming weaker and weaker. Draven should have shown you that.
Val made no acknowledgment of Vadim’s declaration. The Carpathian merely looked at his tormentor with no expression whatsoever. Charlotte had never seen a man so ravaged and torn, so tortured, and yet he was stoic. She knew he felt pain because she felt it through her connection to him.
The more she touched each vignette from the past, the more she understood the players—and Tariq’s world. It was violent and dangerous, just as he was. There was also something incredibly beautiful and heroic about the way the Carpathian endured his imprisonment and torture. She couldn’t help but admire and respect the man. She knew he was very similar in personality to Tariq. She’d been in Tariq’s mind, and now she was sharing both Val’s and Vadim’s minds.
Vadim. He was the most narcissistic person she’d ever met in her life. He was a megalomaniac, without a single doubt believing he was smarter than anyone else. He wanted power and believed he deserved having it. No one was greater than him.
You will always know it was you, Zhestokly, that aided me in bringing down the prince and his lineage. You and your blood. You will live a long time knowing that again and again I will use your blood to kill my enemies and raise my army. The vampire spat at Val, the spittle hitting him full in the face, but the Carpathian made no sound, no movement. He sat stoically in the cage, folded up, unable to move, his heart weak, barely able to pump. She wanted to touch him. To reassure him that he would escape. That the others had in fact come for him.
Come back to me, Charlotte, Tariq whispered softly in her mind. Again there were the small caressing strokes she was fast becoming familiar with.
Charlotte shook her head. She was so close to figuring out Vadim. They would need to know every detail in order to defeat him—because someone had to stop him. Someone had to stand up to the mastermind monster and his army of vile followers.
You’ve been gone too long. Come back to me.
There was a hint of steel in the voice, and her first impulse was to go back to him. This place and time were very dangerous to linger in. Tariq had noticed her presence when he was carving his carousel horse. Vadim’s attention was entirely focused on Val, but at any moment he could have sensed her presence.
One more time. I haven’t gotten everything yet.
She didn’t wait for Tariq to answer because she knew he would demand she return. She moved to the next vignette, closer to the present timeline. She chose the day they had rescued Emeline in the hopes that it would reveal where Vadim had gone and what he was up to next.
The terrified screams of a child pierced the air. Evil laughter, a sound that rivaled nails on a chalkboard. She heard the low murmur of the Carpathian’s voice for the first time, soothing the child. Talking quietly just beneath the shrieking voices of the vampires surrounding him. To Charlotte’s horror, they were bleeding him dry. She recognized Fridrick and Vadim, but there were two others holding cups to the numerous wounds pouring blood from their victim.
The child—the one she recognized as Liv—sat almost on the Carpathian’s lap; he had one strong arm curled around her, his hand over her eyes. His head was bent low to her ear as he whispered to her. Her screams stopped abruptly and she nodded over and over, sinking into him for protection. Charlotte knew there would be none—not for the child and certainly not for the hunter.
You grow weak, Val. So weak. If you die, there is no hope for these women. These children. Vadim turned to half face the open door leading to the other room. He gestured toward it. They wait their turn. Your blood will feed all of them and you will be the downfall of the prince, his people, and all the humans we intend to kill or enslave.
Charlotte turned to look and there were seven more men standing there, some grinning at