Dark Carousel (Dark #30)(59)

When he spoke in his language, in that beautiful, mesmerizing voice she loved, the one that felt like love, the splinter went very still, as if it were paralyzed. Instantly the three ancients struck hard, blasting it with energy and the white-hot light. Charlotte felt that terrible flash, the burn along her broken rib. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to ride on top of the wave of pain.
The splinter couldn’t escape the light pouring over it, through it. Her rib felt as if someone were taking a torch to it, and she knew Tariq was shouldering most of that pain as well, shielding her as he would from every other terrible thing that came her way. Just as he would shield their children.
I don’t know how to tell you in your language, which sounds sexy and beautiful when you speak to me, but you’re the keeper of my heart and soul, Tariq. For as long as you want me, I’ll be your woman.
She meant every word and surprisingly, her voice sounded soft and loving. No, it felt soft and loving. So much so that she heard Vadim shriek his anger and frustration. She felt his fear and it rocked her—rocked her that the terrible monster she thought unstoppable could know fear when the Carpathians facing him didn’t feel it at all. She reached for Liv.
See, baby? He’s as afraid of us as we’ve been of him.
He is. There was wonder in Liv’s mind. Shock. Knowledge.
Charlotte was too weak to go to her. She didn’t even know if she could ever stand again, and the three ancients were deep inside her, determined to rid her of the splinter. Beneath the layers of soil, Charlotte was naked. She had no idea how much of her the others had seen . . .
Sielamet. Just that. One word. But it carried so much meaning. Right now it was male amusement. A reprimand. I would shield you always. Carpathians do not share well with others.
She loved that in the middle of life and death, the conversion, the struggle to destroy a monster’s hold on her, Tariq was always the calm eye of the storm. So steady. Her rock. He thought to keep her naked body from the others and she was grateful to him. Grateful that when her body expelled all toxins, he shielded her and the earth absorbed everything, keeping the mess from the sight of the others. 
She thought it strange that she simply accepted lying in soil, using it as a blanket, packed tightly around her. The knowledge that they were packed in the dirt should have made her heart pound in trepidation, but her mind was too occupied with whether she could take more of that terrible burn in her ribs. That and the fact that the older children should be able to go through the conversion without harm or too much pain.
Relax, Charlotte, Tariq advised. His hand moved soothingly over her back as he pulled her into him, her front to his front.
She hadn’t realized she had tensed up, fighting the pain, but it was growing worse, burning along her rib until she wanted to scream. She glanced up at Tariq’s face. It was stoic. Without expression. She moved through his mind . . .
Don’t! It was a sharp command.
She knew. He was taking most of what she felt while the three ancients attempted to destroy the splinter. Vadim fought back, attacking her, trying to force her to make them stop. Again, Tariq stood solidly between her and pain that would have been far too much for her.
She put her hands on his chest, shocked how the soil responded to her movement, almost anticipating what she wanted. She felt warm and cocooned. Closing her eyes, she began to breathe deeply, slowly and steadily, using her meditative breathing to stay relaxed. She pushed everything out of her mind but that splinter.
You will not defeat me. I will kill those children in front of you. Your lifemate’s blood will run like a river over you as I allow Fridrick to take what is rightfully his.
Tariq’s body jerked once, the only sign that he heard. Blaze and Liv both made a sound of shock, of denial. They all heard Vadim’s sneering voice.
Dragomir, Siv and Val poured the white-hot light on the splinter, widening their blast so that there was nowhere for the tiny parasite to go. It had smashed the bone almost beyond repair, but Tariq had stopped Charlotte from feeling the worst of that pain and she remained still, refusing to call a halt to the slow, tedious work of extracting Vadim’s shadowy splinter from her body.
We will find you and destroy you, piece by piece, Tariq answered. His voice wasn’t goading—his tone was matter-of-fact, as if it was a forgone conclusion that eventually Vadim would be caught and destroyed.
Charlotte couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through her body as the master vampire retaliated against her, the splinter jamming itself into one of the many cracks and smashing the bone. Vadim poured power into the splinter vengefully, focusing on hurting her, wanting her to scream at the ancients to stop.
Her body stiffened in spite of her commands to stay relaxed. Every muscle tightened. She was already exhausted from the journey back through the tunnel, every inch of her covered in ice; then the conversion, her organs reshaping, her body becoming that of a different species; and now the master vampire battered her, bruised her, broke not only one rib, but succeeded in smashing through two others.
Don’t stop, she implored the ancients. No matter what, don’t stop.
The three men were relentless, determined and without mercy. Their combined light followed the shadow everywhere it went, into every nook and cranny, refusing to allow it out of the bones of her rib cage and into her body, where it could do even more damage. Vadim felt every bit of pain the splinter did. Every burn. Each time more of the tiny object succumbed to ash.
In the end, Vadim realized there was no saving even the smallest piece. The head of the splinter buried itself as deeply as possible in Charlotte’s rib, wanting to exact more revenge, knowing if the hunters wanted to kill it, they would have to cause excruciating pain to Charlotte.Do it, Charlotte and Tariq hissed simultaneously.
Tariq’s arms tightened around her and he cradled her close to him, trying to shelter her as the ancients took what felt like a blowtorch to her ribs. She gasped and pressed her open mouth against Tariq’s chest. A solid wall. His heart beat a steady rhythm.
The Carpathians surrounding them began a chant; they repeated the same thing over and over. Muonìak te avoisz te. Muonìak te avoisz te. Muonìak te avoisz te.
What are they saying? Even she could hear the gasp of pain in her voice, but it didn’t matter—she needed something to fill her mind and push the pain away.
They command the shadow to reveal itself. To show itself to the ancients.
She knew the exact moment when Vadim realized he couldn’t save any portion of the sliver that had been pulled from his brain. The splinter went wild, slamming over and over into her ribs and then succumbing to the terrible concentrated fire. The white-hot energy consumed the last of the shadow, turning it to ash so that it crumbled and fell into tiny pieces and drifted away under the watchful eyes of the ancients.
She could feel them, the terrible toll the fight had taken on them. They were out of their bodies, pure spirit, and yet they didn’t retreat. They set about healing her broken ribs and moving through her body inch by inch to make certain there was no trace of Vadim and that every organ and cell in her body was healed.
The three ancients swayed with weariness when they returned to their forms. They sank into the rich soil, crouching low as if to catch their breath, although none of them made a sound.
“Val?” Liv’s voice trembled, but she sounded very brave. “I can feel that you’re hungry.” She stepped close to him and swept back the hair from her neck. “I couldn’t help Charlotte, not really, but you can have my blood.”
There was silence in the basement. Dragomir and Siv both turned toward Liv and gave her small, courtly bows, although they were more like nods—but were definitely gestures of respect for the child.
Val wrapped his arm around Liv. “Sisarke, you are incredibly generous to offer such a precious gift to me. I am hungry; that is true. When one leaves their body it takes a toll. Ekäm—my brother, Lojos—has offered as well and he is much larger than you. I can take much more blood from him without harming him. I thank you, sisarke.”
Val stood slowly as Lojos approached, keeping his body between the ancient hunter and the little girl. Extending his wrist toward Val, Lojos nodded to the child, who wrapped her arm around Val’s leg. “Saasz hän ku andam szabadon ekäm—take what I freely offer, my brother.” With one fingernail he cut a long, deep gash in his wrist. Val took the offering and drank. 
Tomas offered his wrist to Siv with the same ritual words, and without hesitation, Mataias extended his wrist to Dragomir. It was Maksim who fed Tariq. There was something pure and beautiful in the way the Carpathians took care of one another. Charlotte knew all Carpathians were uneasy in the presence of Dragomir, Siv and Val, but they stepped up without a thought to their own safety and took care of their brethren.
She didn’t know what it was that set the three men so apart from the others. The triplets were scary predators, that was easy enough to see, yet the three men who had come to her aid had something else about them that defined them, something that wasn’t human or civilized. They were more animal, but cunningly intelligent and so experienced in battle it was frightening.
Sielamet. You must rest now. They healed you, but you are exhausted. Blaze will see to Liv and the other children. She’ll talk to Genevieve so she’ll know to look after Lourdes for a couple of nights. When you wake, I’ll be with you.