Dark Carousel (Dark #30) - Christine Feehan Page 0,136

bed.

Almost as soon as he sent the alert Donald and Mary came onto the screen, strolling hand in hand as they always did when they were together. They caught up to Liv just as she entered one of the corridors Tariq had designed and made sure were always erected during the day. The corridors were a maze, and every few feet doors could drop down if necessary to trap someone inside. Not visible to the naked eye, the maze made it nearly impossible for Liv or any of the children to wander off during daylight hours. The corridors led to the front gates from several directions, but because they were unseen, they were very difficult to get through.

They watched as Donald gently put his hand on Liv’s shoulder and Mary circled her with a comforting arm as she bent to talk to the child. A few moments later, Liv cried and shook her head repeatedly as the couple firmly turned her back toward the house she shared with her brother and sisters.

I should be the one to comfort her and put her back to bed, Charlotte said, her eyes on the screen. I hate this feeling of helplessness.

Tariq had had centuries to learn to endure. Charlotte was new at it and aside from her initial panic when she found herself paralyzed, she had done well controlling her heart, keeping the rhythm steady and her breathing even.

You can’t just rely on the screens, sielamet. Expand your mind. Encompass the compound. Be aware always of your surroundings.

Charlotte’s eyes were glued to the screen and the progress the Waltons made with Liv. Liv sagged against Donald, forcing him to take most of her weight. She stumbled several times as if she still wasn’t all the way awake. When the camera caught her face, tears tracked down in a steady flow.

How can you stand this, Tariq? It must have been hell when you first brought the children here.

That much was true. It was still hell. Like Charlotte, he wanted to go to Liv and comfort her. The best he could do was send warmth into her mind and soothe her before helping to send her to sleep. Shockingly, he found Val in her mind, soothing her as well. Her restlessness had awakened him, too. Tariq was going to have to give that some thought: the fact that a restless child could awaken a powerful, dangerous ancient and he would take the time to try to soothe her was so extraordinary that it bothered him. He didn’t like mysteries.

The first few days after they arrived were bad, he said to Charlotte. I didn’t know what to expect from them—especially Liv or Emeline. Emeline never leaves her house other than to sit on her porch, and that’s rare. Liv walks in her sleep nearly every single day. Mary and Donald expect it now.

Liv and Emeline both are afraid to sleep because Vadim can come to them while they’re unaware. He demands Emeline come to him or he will force Liv to harm herself.

Tariq sighed. He was well aware that even with the safeguards woven by the combined efforts of all the Carpathians, they couldn’t prevent Vadim from attacking from within the two females. The vampire had taken their blood, forced Emeline to take his. His puppets had torn into Liv with their teeth, spreading their master’s blood like a virus.

It is Emeline Vadim visits in her sleep, and he gets to Liv through Emeline’s dreams.

He had no way to stop that. No matter how they’d tried to weave safeguards over both houses where Liv and Emeline stayed, Vadim still managed to attack while they slept. Mary had held Vadim in check in his attacks on Liv with her extraordinary gift. She sang, and the melody and lyrics soothed and put the child to sleep and then followed her into her dreams so that Vadim hadn’t been able to get through.

He’d asked Liv if Mary’s songs were still helping; she’d shrugged and shaken her head and then shrugged again. He’d touched her mind to see her memories. Vadim was the biggest part of her memories; in fact he was slowly taking them over, as if she really had been infected by a virus.

I shouldn’t have waited, Charlotte. I was so afraid of harming her by the conversion, by acting too fast without thinking it all the way through, that she’s suffered, perhaps unnecessarily. Emeline isn’t mine. I have no idea what is the right way to go