“They are very real, sielamet, and something is going on here that we do not yet understand. Something that involves you, Genevieve and Emeline. We found bodies beneath the cities, women in various stages of pregnancy. We believe the Malinovs are trying to establish their own empire. If they try to turn a woman who is not psychic she will go insane. A psychic woman, however, one with strong gifts, can handle the conversion.”
Charlotte really didn’t like the sound of that. “Conversion?” Her voice came out high. A mousy squeak.
He nodded, his eyes on her face. “It takes three blood exchanges to bring a gifted human into our world.”
She closed her eyes tight. Remembering. His mouth on her. Her mouth on him. That taste bursting in her mouth, addicting, setting up a terrible craving. His words, so gentle, so loving, his language, so sexy and intriguing. This was becoming more and more real. Her brain was finally allowing her to process everything he’d said. It was putting all the pieces together to give her the full picture. Tariq Asenguard was converting her, and eventually she would be the mother of all those children.
“I saw the film The Lost Boys,” she warned him.
“I did not see this film.” There was mild puzzlement, but the eyes didn’t waver.
She took a step back again, once more retreating. “A kick-ass film. Funny and scary. A vampire trying to put together his own family.”
“This is not a film, Charlotte. You are my family. My lifemate. The children are lost souls in need of help. I came to their aid because down through the centuries, that’s what I’ve done. What I always have done. I take in the lost and I care for them. If that is not what you want to do, I will stop. But you are mine.”
There was finality in those words, and studying his face, she could see there was little wiggle room around his declaration. He believed it absolutely and the scary thing was—so did she. She took another step back, shaking her head. It was too unbelievable. Fridrick murdering Genevieve’s boyfriend and her grandmother. Murdering Ricard Beaudet and then Charlotte’s brother. Tariq writing to Ricard—such a coincidence. The three men who followed them from Paris. Giving herself to a man she didn’t know after years of not allowing anyone to touch her. What was wrong with her that she was being swept down a path there was no returning from? She wasn’t that kind of woman.
She’d always been strong and confident, her own person. Independent. Too much so according to her brother. Yet one touch, one look, just Tariq’s voice alone could make her want to please him. Want to give him everything—anything he wanted. That so wasn’t her. She couldn’t just believe every incredible word coming out of his mouth. She knew, from touching the carousel horse, that he was ancient. She saw him, felt him, even thought he’d seen her looking at him. Now she knew he had.
“I did.”
Her heart jumped, stuttered and then began to pound. He’d heard her thoughts. He was inside her mind. He could read her escape plan almost before she came up with one. Worse, he’d confirmed what she’d suspected.
“That moment was the one that allowed me hang on so long. To stay with humans. To come up with the idea of the clubs. I knew you were somewhere in the world, although I had convinced myself I made you up. I didn’t actually ‘see’ you so much as I felt your presence. So strong. I smelled the fragrance that is so uniquely you. I smelled it in the club and knew you were close.”
He inhaled, taking in her scent, drawing it deep into his lungs, his eyes watchful. She knew if she moved he’d be on her. She just didn’t know what he’d do.
“I want to take Lourdes and leave.” She tried to keep her voice even. It was too late to hide the fact that he’d totally freaked her out. She needed to get away from him. From the whispers of the wooden horse, now calling to her. She stuck the pad of her finger into her mouth again, sucking on the stinging splinter. It wasn’t there. She thought it had penetrated the skin and broken off, but it had just ripped a small laceration, which now just stung. She was grateful she didn’t have to fish out a piece of old wood from her finger—a small thing, but it gave her something else to think about.
“You hurt yourself?” Instantly he was alert.
“It’s nothing.” God. God. The concern in his voice. That shook her. His eyes had gone soft. Beautiful. He was the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. All hers. Offering her everything. Was she really going to throw that away? She took another step back, away from temptation. “I didn’t even get a splinter.”
“Let me see.” He held out his hand to her.
Panic set in instantly. He couldn’t touch her. He just couldn’t. She would go to pieces. Melt. Give him everything he wanted. Anything. She had to be careful because every step she took she could be entering deeper into a trap.
She put her hand behind her and shook her head. “No.” That was decisive. “You stay there and let me think this through. I know you’re capable of controlling minds. I know vampires in movies can do that, especially if they’ve taken blood from the victim.”
“You aren’t a victim. You are my lifemate, my woman, meant to be cherished and protected. Never a victim, Charlotte.”
His voice. Mesmerizing. Velvet. Stroking caresses. If that wasn’t mind control what was? She shook her head, trying to make a decision when she felt more like the proverbial cornered prey.“Do I have freedom of choice?”
“Choice in what? You have all kinds of freedom. You are gifted and becoming even more so. Can you not tell the difference in your senses? Your hearing? Your eyesight? Your ability to move? Every sense you have is already heightened. You have the freedom to speak your mind, to make decisions, all the things every human values so much.”
“You’re leaving out my decision to remain here—with you. What about that?”
He tipped his head to one side, still studying her. “The human world is very concerned with rights and privileges. Entitlement. Carpathians are about duty and honor. Responsibility. Our lives are very simple in that regard. My duty is to my prince and my lifemate first and then to my people. Your duty is the same. In that there is no decision to be made. It. Is. A. Fact. Can you deny the truth of that?”
She couldn’t. She wasn’t Carpathian and she hadn’t been raised in his world, but there was no denying that something powerful was between them. The connection grew stronger the more she was in his presence.
“There is no out for either of us. No divorce or separation. We are one, together yet separate. We cannot be apart. Not comfortably and not for long. You are two-thirds into my world. Already you are changing.”
She shook her head. “That’s not right. You don’t have my permission.”
“I don’t need your permission. It is your duty.”
She tipped up her chin, anger sweeping through her. “You don’t get to dictate my life. You can’t just force me to accept you.”
He was there then. Right in front of her, his body crowding hers, his arm sweeping around her back to keep her from falling as he propelled her backward fast. So fast. Her back hit the wall and she was caged. Held there. “You gave yourself to me, Charlotte. There is no taking that back. I told you then what I would do couldn’t be undone. The vows were made. In my world, we are man and wife. Our soul is once again back together, my dark to your light.”
She had. She’d done that. She even knew she was doing something crazy at the time. Something momentous. Still. She shook her head. “Not this. Exchanging blood. I didn’t agree to that.”
“You agreed to be mine. To come into my world.” He cupped her chin in the palm of his hand, forcing her head up. “There is no going back now. It is far too late for that. Even if I let you go, which would never happen, you would not survive and neither would I. We’re tied together.”
His thumb slid along her cheek, a soft caress that caught at her heart. She was terrified, yet at the same time she felt safe the moment he touched her. Safe. Protected. Belonging. He was magic. She knew she would never see another man. There was only Tariq. It seemed as if she’d known him all her life.
“I didn’t know what I was agreeing to,” she whispered, because there was no way to get her voice above a whisper. “I don’t want to be in a world where I have to look at human beings as prey.”
“You are not a predator, sielamet. You are the light to my darkness. You will always be you, a sweet, courageous woman lighting the way for her man.”
“You’re a predator,” she accused.
“Exactly. I will always be one. I was born to hunt and I will continue to do so. But I have always stayed in the world of humans, drawn to them, protecting them. That night, the night the Malinovs turned, they came back determined to wipe out the entire village where I worked to train the young men for battle. Fridrick and his brother were with them. Two others. It was a bloodbath, Charlotte. So many people killed unnecessarily because I refused to join them. They needed me dead. They wanted that. I became one of their bitterest enemies that night and I have hunted them through the centuries.”
She winced at the term centuries; she couldn’t help it. Centuries was a long, long time.