Dark Carousel (Dark #30) - Christine Feehan Page 0,109
than we could leave Bella.”
Charlotte glanced at Danny, seeing the knowledge in his eyes. Tariq hadn’t pulled any punches, and he knew exactly how difficult it would be for a child. She shook her head slightly. What was the use of arguing with Amelia right then? She needed normal, just as they all did.
“Danny, check out the cool dragons Lojos, Tomas and Mataias made last night,” she said, changing the subject, hoping he’d get the hint. “We were in the tunnels and a few of the vampires and some of their army tried to trap us inside, and the three of them made these dragons out of stone. It was the coolest thing I ever saw. The dragons actually flew. Amelia tells me she can hear the orange one whispering to her. Clearly the other girls can hear their dragons as well. I think the brown one is yours.”
“Put your hand on him, Danny,” Amelia encouraged.
Danny obediently stepped away from his sister and laid his hand on the brown dragon’s neck. Instantly, his face lit up. The worry left him. The lines etched deep softened. Once again he appeared a teenage boy without a care. All because of three Carpathian hunters who couldn’t see in color and didn’t feel emotion. Still, they took the time to try to find a way to help heal children.
14
Tariq strode straight up to the heavy, ornate gate, yanked it open and went outside. He didn’t hesitate as he walked down the road that led away from his estate. The two properties on either side of his also belonged to Tariq. Maksim’s property bordered his, but this road led straight to the compound. One had to use a different entrance to get to Maksim’s home. Tariq had ensured privacy and yet now, three humans spied on him, his woman and his children. That was totally unacceptable to him.
If these men were in any way connected to Vadim, like the other human male psychics, then they were dead men. He planned to kill them fast and dispose of their bodies. It wouldn’t be that difficult. He’d been making people disappear for centuries.
He didn’t hesitate or pretend he didn’t know where they were hiding. He walked straight up to the blind they’d painstakingly set up across from his front entrance and stood, hands on his hips, glaring at them.
“Can I do something for you? And you might identify yourselves and which magazines you’re working for.” It was always better to act as if the paparazzi hounded him, which, technically, they often did. It was the best excuse of all to confront anyone spying on him.
The three men exchanged uneasy looks, and then their obvious leader stepped forward. Tariq had marked him in the club as the one to watch. Daniel Forester, tall, but not quite as tall as Tariq, and that meant he had to look up at the Carpathian. He was probably considered handsome by human standards, but his face was flushed with annoyance at being caught out.
“Daniel Forester. I don’t work for a magazine.” He turned to indicate the two men flanking him. “This is Vince Tidwell and Bruce Van Hues.”
That much was the truth. “That tells me exactly nothing. I have family and friends and I keep my private life private. I don’t like anyone spying on me . . . or them.”
“We’re worried about a couple of friends of ours. They were in your club a couple of nights ago and they seem to have disappeared. They were seen getting in a car with you.”
Tariq remained silent. He simply stared at them. Forester wasn’t telling the truth now; rather, he was mixing lies with truth. They had powerful binoculars and they’d caught glimpses of Genevieve and Charlotte with the children on the playground.
Tariq quirked an eyebrow at them and folded his arms across his chest, waiting in silence. He didn’t need to touch their minds. They didn’t suspect him of being a vampire. They were chasing after Charlotte and Genevieve.
Daniel tried to hold his eyes but eventually had to look away. Tariq was a predator and he could hold a stare, fully focused, without blinking for hours. He could be absolutely still for hours when necessary. Daniel Forester was an amateur in comparison. In truth, Tariq felt a little childish playing the human male games when they had no chance of winning, but over the centuries, he’d learned the customs, and the stare down was one of them.