Christine feehan - Dark Slayer 20

Ivory's voice was enough to make his heart sing. Love had been lost to him a long time ago. He hadn't believed he could feel such a powerful emotion for anyone, yet there it was. In him. Deep. How could he not love her when she gave him back his sanity? His life? When she embodied the honor and integrity he believed in?

Natalya took a deep breath. We believe you also fathered Skyler. There is another woman as well, a lifemate to one of the De La Cruz brothers. Colby. She lived on a ranch in California before she met Rafael.

He closed his mind to Natalya but there was no escaping Ivory, and the memory of a child in a mine shaft rose up. He had desperately tried to get to her before they had managed to kidnap her and take her back to Xavier. He'd brought the mine down on the vampire before Xavier had taken over his body again. He was grateful the child lived and prospered-but another one? Skyler? How many more? And from the hesitant tone Natalya used, young Skyler hadn't fared well.

Are you certain I fathered these girls?

Yes.

His heart again jumped out of rhythm with that of the earth and pain swept him away.

Razvan woke to singing and he knew time had passed. The voices were beautiful, soft and melodious, in tune with the earth. As they sang, the pain in his body eased considerably as if the earth could better absorb the terrible wounds in his body and knit him back together.

Isn't their song beautiful? Ivory asked. Her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid she would interrupt the tribute to Mother Earth. They are gifted, these four women. And are they all related in some way to you? Sister? Daughters? I feel a part of you in them, though one, the strongest daughter of the Earth, is different and yet like you in some way.

Razvan felt the melody deep in his bones. Peace had once again slid over him, the knowing that he could not change what fate had already decreed. Acceptance-his only recourse when the world around him made no sense.

Natalya says the young one is my daughter, but the one called Syndil I do not know. She is much older, older perhaps than I.

She feels as you feel. That same calm, at peace with herself in spite of the turmoil around her. She is . . . There was a frown in Ivory's voice as she tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. The earth welcomes her as she welcomes me. As a daughter. A true daughter. There are only a few of us.

Is she related to you, Ivory? Razvan could feel the strength in the woman Ivory was speaking of. The earth rejoiced and welcomed her. There was joy in the layers of soil beneath him, joy in the rock beneath the soil. How do I feel that? How am I so connected to the earth? Through you?

Mother Earth has accepted you as her son. She will come to your aid should you have need. She has found you worthy. There was satisfaction in Ivory's voice.

He felt humbled by the earth's acceptance of his torn body and wounded soul; not worthy, but he was grateful.

My body is healing. The dance is rejuvenating the soil and Mother Earth is pouring minerals into our bodies to speed healing, isn't she? He felt that connection strongly now. He heard the beat of the music and the stamp of feet, felt the pattern of the dance as they poured love and healing into the earth itself.

He realized they were all connected, not apart, and for the first time he understood the concept of the prince and why he was so important to the Carpathian people. He connected them in the way the earth did. Mikhail was the very blood of the people.

That's why Xavier wants him dead. To kill the prince might literally kill the species. We have to stop him, Ivory. Whatever else we do, we have to stop Xavier. We cannot be distracted by going after vampires or anything else; Xavier has to be stopped.

Ivory's mind slipped over his, mirroring that exact knowledge, in accord with him. It only mattered that they heal their bodies as fast as possible and then find a way to remove the threat of Xavier from the world.

Time passed. There was often the ceremonial healing of the earth, and each time brought renewed soil, working to repair the mortal wounds. And Gregori came to them nightly. They often protested, knowing they were taking his strength and blood, even his healing energy, but he was single-minded in his purpose, and nothing they said could stop him.

Razvan came to like and respect the man. He was stubborn, tenacious, determined to heal them as quickly as possible. Ivory had been leery of taking his blood at first, a natural reaction when self-preservation had been her way for hundreds of years, but necessity forced her to take what was offered. Gregori and Nicolas De La Cruz were the two Carpathians who came daily to take care of them. Often the prince came along and gave his blood, the richness and healing qualities like no other.

Nicolas had wept when he learned Ivory was alive and Razvan felt the mixture of joy and sorrow bursting through her. She had never thought that she would ever see the De La Cruz brothers again, family to her, adored brothers every bit as close to her real brothers as she had been, yet even they could not prevent the Malinov brothers from turning.

It was Razvan who held Ivory close, surrounding her with his heat, merging his mind and heart with hers to keep her from weeping uncontrollably, to steady her while she renewed her relationship with Nicolas, lifemate to his daughter Lara. It was Nicolas who fed her wolves for her and made certain they were well cared for. Most of the time the wolves snuggled beside them, there in the soil, sleeping the weeks away, waking only to feed when Nicolas arrived, and then sleeping again.

Razvan recognized Nicolas's face from Ivory's meticulously carved wall. Each stroke had been carved with loving care, and he felt that same deep love in Ivory each time Nicolas spoke to her. That man's voice was soft, gentle, almost as if she was still the young girl from centuries earlier. He didn't seem to recognize the fierce warrior in her, only her gentle side, as if he might be blinded to who she was by his love for the child from long ago.

On some level, he realized that it was Nicolas's lack of knowledge of who Ivory was that kept Razvan from the terrible possessiveness a lifemate would feel when other males were close to their female. Ivory loved Nicolas with the love of a sister, but it was Razvan who knew her intimately, her intriguing mind and the wonderful, intelligent brain that worked fast and accurately on any problem. Razvan spent a great deal of time in her mind, going over what she knew of vampires and learning how best to fight them. She was a wealth of information, and as much as Nicolas loved her, he would never see her true value.

He sees me the way you see Natalya. She is a warrior and yet you wish only to protect her and keep her safe. There was amusement in Ivory's voice.

Her tone felt like velvet stroking over his skin. Perhaps little sisters should never grow up, but simply stay young for their brothers. He matched her teasing tone.

I am grown up. A woman. Her amusement faded to be replaced by something altogether different. When we leave this place of comfort and healing-and we will soon to join the real world with its hardships and cruelty-I will miss our closeness. There was real regret in her voice. The thought of going back to her lonely existence after intertwining her mind so deeply with his was disturbing to her.

Han ku vigyaz sielamet-keeper of my soul, you are also, han ku kuulua sivamet-keeper of my heart. We are bound together, lifemates for all eternity. When we rise, ready to fight our enemy, we rise as lifemates. I asked you if that was what you wished and your reply was clear to me. We do not separate. We face the future together, whatever it should bring.

Ivory sighed softly. I am prepared to do that. I just meant… She trailed off and he felt her searching for the right words to express whatever troubled her.