Dark Carousel (Dark #30)(39)
Deepest respect, Dragomir, but you do not get to say what my woman can or cannot do. Do not think to threaten her. He couldn’t keep the menace from his voice. He would fight to the death for his lifemate.
As would I. She is yours; that makes her one of us. She is my sister, deserving of my protection for that alone, but with what she has done here this night and what she intends to do for those children, respect is part of that as well. She should not be here to see these women ripped apart and babies suffering every moment of their existence within the womb. This is . . . beyond anything I have ever seen. It is not for the eyes of an empath.
I agree. Because it was true. Charlotte had no business anywhere near those bodies they had found piled up like so much garbage in one of the rooms. Women and stillborn babies, stacks of bones dating back to when the city was first built. Vadim had planned his takeover carefully and patiently—two traits that no vampire had ever had before.
If Vadim is in your woman’s mind, he can use her eyes to spy. That is a fact, Tariq, and that has to be dealt with. Once she is safe inside the compound, he will find it much more difficult to reach her with the safeguards in place.
That was also the truth. Tariq glanced down at the top of Charlotte’s head. Her hair was thick and glossy, begging him to bury his fingers deep. He did so, gripping the mass and tugging until she turned her face up to his. She smiled up at him, giving him reassurance, willing to put herself out there all over again. Absently, she brought her finger to her mouth and sucked on it. It was sexy and instantly his body stirred with hunger in spite of the inappropriate setting. She did that a lot.Tariq went still, everything freezing with the memory of her bringing her finger to her mouth when she had accessed the memories from the carousel horse—memories of Vadim and his brothers on the night they had chosen to give up their souls. He’d been carving the carousel horse earlier and they’d been with him. They had left, found out the news of their sister and returned to recruit him to their cause. When he refused to go, they had attacked the village, going after each and every one of the humans Tariq had befriended.
Charlotte’s eyebrow went up. “What?”
She returned the tip of her finger to her mouth, and this time he caught the small wince, as if it was hurting her. His breath left his lungs and he shackled her wrist and brought the hand out of her mouth, turning it up for his inspection. The finger was wet from her sucking on it. A nervous habit? Or some other reason? He turned the finger to every angle. A little red at the fleshy part of the pad, but no discernible injuries, no breaks in the skin.
“Does this finger hurt?”
She kept her eyes fixed on his. His Charlotte. Too intelligent. Already thinking. Very slowly she nodded. “I got a splinter when I jerked my hand back from the carousel horse.”
He closed his eyes, the memory of her pulling her hand away from the wood fast, the moment she had connected with the past and had seen Tariq carving the horse. She’d known it was him and she’d been frightened. Of course she would be. People she loved had been murdered in a way depicted in horror films. Knowing he had lived centuries she had to have thought he was a vampire—like Fridrick.
“Did you pull the splinter out? Did you get all of it?”
She frowned and tried to pull her hand away, shaking her head. “When I looked again, the splinter was gone.”
“What part of don’t touch it did you not understand?”
He knew he had an edge to his tone, but o köd belső—darkness take it—he’d told her not to touch the peje thing.
She yanked her hand away from him, eyes narrowing. “What part of I’m a grown woman and don’t need anyone telling me what to do do you not understand?”
His woman had a bite to her, but he’d known that all along. She couldn’t be wild and passionate in bed and not have a temper. Still, his woman wasn’t going to defy him when it came to her safety. That was totally unacceptable and always would be. He tightened his hold on her, pulling her up onto her toes, her face close to his. He stared down into her eyes, wanting her to know he was serious.
Uh-oh. Charlotte let her breath out slowly. She’d just come up against the predator. Civilized, sophisticated Tariq Asenguard, owner of several fabulous and popular nightclubs, was gone and in his place was something altogether different. He was really upset with her. Her heart jumped and began to pound slowly. Instinctively she knew this wasn’t about her defying him and touching the carousel horse when he’d told her not to—and that’s what scared her much more than his terrifying demeanor. Something was very, very wrong, and it had to do with that cursed horse.
“In all matters to do with your safety you will obey me,” he bit out.
It wasn’t the time to laugh so she bit down very hard on her lower lip. Seriously? He’d used the word obey. She hadn’t been very good at obeying her parents and certainly not her older brother. It wasn’t the time to inform him that she definitely had a problem with anyone thinking they were her authority figure.
Tariq had lulled her into a false sense of security. He’d looked modern and come off modern, unlike his caveman friend Dragomir, who was just plain scary. She’d smash him over the head with something hard if that Carpathian belonged to her. She might kick Tariq in the shins very soon if he continued to throw words like obey around, but . . . He yanked her even closer, so that she was on her toes, her body tight against his and that very handsome face inches from hers. Her heart pounded hard in her chest, but deep down she knew—she knew—with absolute certainty that this man would never hurt her. Never. He could posture all he wanted, but he wouldn’t harm her.
So why was she so scared? Why was she terrified beyond anything she’d ever known? Charlotte flung her arms around his neck and leaned into the pillar of strength she knew him to be. He felt solid. He was solid. A rock. An anchor. The world he lived in was something she didn’t understand. It seemed to be filled with nothing but danger. It shifted continually until she felt she was on a carousel that never stopped spinning. The world moved up and down like the horses and spun out of control, making her dizzy. But Tariq never seemed to be caught up in the effects of the world, or even the danger. He was solid. Real. Someone to count on.
“He’s in me because of that splinter, isn’t he?” she whispered. The terror that came on the heels of that reality shook her. Vadim, the vile, hideous monster who tortured men and could throw little girls to flesh-eating creatures so callously, was inside of her.
Instantly, Tariq’s body language changed. With his arms he enfolded her, sheltered her, comforted her, just as she knew he would. His mouth nuzzled the top of her head. “We’ll get him out, sielamet, but it isn’t safe here. We need to get you back to the compound. Dragomir was right when he said Vadim could use you to spy on us if we’re not careful.”
She gasped, her fingers curling into his shirt tightly, bunching the material while she hung on to him. “I can’t go back there, where Lourdes and the other children are. He can’t ever get his hands on Liv again. She wouldn’t survive a second round with him intact, Tariq. You know that. She’s barely hanging on as it is.” If she were a danger to these men—the Carpathian hunters—then what would she be to the children?
“The compound is protected. Vadim compromised Emeline as well by taking her blood. She has to stay inside the fence, where we can protect her night and day. He can send an army of puppets at us during the day, and now, after seeing those human males, we know he clearly has others as well. We knew he was recruiting humans to do his bidding, but not like those men. They were different somehow. Just the fact that he gave them Carpathian blood and they wanted it—something is very wrong. During the hours of the day, we have to rely mostly on safeguards to keep Vadim’s army out.”She took a breath. “You sleep during the day.” She had to know. Maybe she had known all along. He’d told her, but she hadn’t really listened. “Not because of working at the nightclub. You have to sleep during the day.”
He nodded, his gaze holding hers captive. “Yes, we’ll all sleep during the day. We can be up in the early morning hours and after the sun sets, but the effects of the sun are devastating on Carpathians.” He moved, taking her with him. “We have to get you out of these tunnels and back home. I’ve put the call out to the others and we’ll go out as a group. You’ll be in the center.”
It was an order, nothing less. His tone held no compromise. Was implacable. She heard that command in his voice, and she didn’t give a damn. Fighting for independence was one thing when her life and sanity weren’t at stake, but when she had to rely on his strengths, she wasn’t about to quibble over what tone he used. Clearly he was a man used to giving orders. Right then, she was supremely grateful for his ability to take charge.
Charlotte didn’t want to take a step out of the tunnels into the open. She felt extremely vulnerable, more so than she’d ever felt in her life. She had to trust these men—especially Tariq—to know what they were doing. Their grim faces told her she was in trouble. They expected an ambush. Because of her, Vadim knew exactly where they were.