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but restrained, so subtlety was

at work here. She knew that touch. She'd felt that touch all too often as a child. Xavier had humiliated her. He'd made her feel weak and defenseless, unwanted and unloved. He had made her feel as if the people who had brought her into the world rejected and despised her. This was his work. His signature was everywhere. Whatever microbe he had devised to carry out his cunning conspiracy was very close. She was nearing the home of the killer.

She tapped Natalya's mind. She couldn't afford detection until Natalya was ready to strike and she dared not continue until Natalya followed her clear path and joined her spirit to spirit. This part was the most dangerous. Lara was light and airy, floating along the realm with little to alert others to her presence. Natalya was a warrior, skilled in the art of killing, and now, in spite of the fact that she had been mage, she was fully Carpathian. She had lost none of her mage skills, but it was possible the entity could feel her presence as a threat. Lara stayed very quiet until she felt Natalya's spirit join hers.

Lara continued forward, taking Natalya's spirit with her. The entity had burrowed beneath the earth, the negative energy raising the toxicity of the ground so that Lara's sensitive soul wanted to weep. She pressed her fingers against her clear crystal and pushed on, focusing on her mission. Used to the ice caves and the extremophiles she found there, she spotted the killer as it clung to a bit of fungus. It didn't surprise her at all that Xavier had chosen to use such an organism to deliver death.

Extremophiles were given the name because they could survive and thrive in all kinds of extreme conditions, hot or cold, darkness or light, even a salty environment. The microbe was perfect as an assassin. Of course, Xavier had mutated this one to serve his purpose. It was tiny, a chameleon microbe able to merge with cells and appear part of whatever it chose to mimic. She felt the moment the microbe became aware of her presence and the danger to it.

Alarm spread, resounding waves swamping her and she leapt aside as the microbe spit chemicals at her. Droplets of acid hissed through the stem of the root. The tree shook under the assault. She had known that extremophiles spit chemicals at other microbes to protect themselves and their territories so she'd been somewhat prepared, but the sudden aggression surprised her. The microbe went on the attack immediately, raining acid over the taproot in an effort to eradicate the threat to it.

Lara had to lure the thing to the surface so Natalya could kill it and she had to do so immediately. The attack could kill off the last of the baby's strength.Baby . The extremophile was programmed to kill an infant. No baby would be a threat to it. Knowing Xavier, he would have given his assassin the scent of both Dubrinsky and Dragonseeker blood.

For the first time she hesitated. She would have to go back to her childhood and face her demons again. There would be no Nicolas to stand between her and her traumatic memories, but she could not fail this child.

I am here, Natalya reassured.

The echo of female voices surrounded her, uplifted her, gave her renewed confidence with their offer of sisterhood.

Lara looked to her spirit guide. Without hesitation, the little frog who had started in water and transformed to land, began the journey along another root. She felt the warp of time and knew the frog was taking her back so that she would appear as an infant to the assassin.

At once the acid stopped raining down, but now the attack was different, sharp and focused and very complex. It began as a feeling, dread stealing into her mind. A voice whispered to her in the Carpathian

language, a repetitious message of hatred. The insidious tone was poisonous, seeping into her mind even though she knew she wasn't an infant. The disgust was all too reminiscent of her childhood.

She forced herself to continue up the taproot, knowing the microbe followed, feeling its presence as it whispered hideous things. No one wanted her. She was worthless. The body carrying her rejected her, fighting to rid itself of such a parasitic creature. Go! Go! Abandon the host. She detested carrying such a weak, pathetic foreign object. Not a person, an object.

Without warning, something stabbed at her, a