and she tilted her head to look up at him. To meet his gaze. He was a little shocked by what he saw there. Tears still swam in her eyes, turning the color a deep emerald. Little droplets clung to her long lashes. But there was steel there. Pure strength. She didn’t look at him like a woman defeated. She didn’t look as if she blamed him for bringing her into the insanity that was his world.
“Fridrick murdered my brother and Genevieve’s grandmother,” she repeated. “I was already in your world, Tariq, only I had no idea what I was facing. I was at a huge disadvantage. Now I’m not. Now I have you and the others, and this time, I found his weaknesses. All of their weaknesses. Never tell me you’re sorry for bringing me into your world. I was already there and you saved me. Fridrick would have taken both Genevieve and me in the parking garage had you and your friends not come along.”
He couldn’t deny the truth of that, but still, she surprised him with her acceptance of him. For him, the time was so slow. He’d searched for her for too long, and he knew the moment she gave him back the light for his soul. He knew she was his everything. It wasn’t the same for her. She was human and he was moving her fast into his world.
He could tell himself—and her—that it was to keep her safe, but the truth was far different. He wanted her for himself and he wanted to ensure she was with him. He didn’t want her on the surface while he was in the ground. He wanted her body pressed close to his while they slept. He wanted to wake up with her in his arms.
Now, with his fierce little warrior glaring up at him, he knew she was strong enough to accept the children he cared for, as well as Emeline and Mary and Donald Walton. His motives for bringing her into his world didn’t matter to her. She had made her decision, and she trusted him with her life and the lives of the two people she held dear—Lourdes and Genevieve.
“We have to hurry and get out of here,” she murmured softly. “I need to see the rest of it, but I want to go fast. I feel . . .” She broke off, looking around her, apprehension pouring off of her. He isn’t entirely gone. I feel him. Vadim. It was his voice talking to me and now I feel as if he’s crouched there inside me, watching and waiting until I make a mistake.
She communicated with him on their more intimate path, but Tariq immediately relayed the message to the others sifting through the rubble.
There is no need for her to see these dead women or feel what was done to them, Dragomir said. There has to be a blood bond between your woman and Vadim. Find the source, Tariq, or she will become a liability we cannot afford.
Tariq went very still, the predator in him uncoiling. Unsheathing claws. The threat was there. Dragomir was ancient. Extremely dangerous. He had been one of the ancients, so powerful and deadly that he had locked himself in the monastery with others like him. They could no longer be in the world and have those around them be safe. They were considered the most dangerous Carpathians living, which made them the most dangerous creatures on the face of the earth.
Dragomir and the others believed it was dishonorable to seek the dawn rather than give in to the never-ending whispers of temptation. When even those whispers stopped and there was only a dark void of nothing, they knew too many kills had destroyed them. They had no hope, no memories, nothing but their honor and strength to keep them from killing anything that came near them.
Dragomir was of the old school, unused to the modern ways, and he believed their women would follow where their men led. He had recently left the monastery because he’d been given renewed hope that his lifemate existed and was in the United States, specifically California. He had stopped on his way north to aid Tariq when the call went out for aid against Vadim. Tariq no longer knew if that was a good thing. Dragomir would be hard to kill, even with several experienced hunters close.
Deepest respect, Dragomir, but you do not get to say what my woman can or cannot