Christine Feehan - Dark Curse 19

Now, having to hide for centuries, Xavier had no one to brag to other than the very ones he imprisoned. It was obvious he enjoyed Razvan's pain. Nicolas was certain he despised Razvan because the Dragonseeker ran strong in him. Xavier was mage. He wanted to be immortal and he wanted others to fear and admire him, but he thought himself far superior to the Carpathians. Razvan was too close to a Carpathian in his enduring strength and his code. He had protected his sister and tried desperately to protect his children, all the while being tortured and used for experiments. Yes, Xavier would despise him, because he hadn't broken Razvan and that continued defiance would cost his grandson dearly.

«You could have escaped when you got free so many years ago,» Xavier pointed out, «but like a dog crawling to your master you returned to me.»

Razvan shook his head. «You manage to change history to suit yourself. As I recall, I followed you to the United States because you were going to kidnap a child and bring her back here. You were unsuccessful, weren't you?»

Xavier erupted into a maddened rage, beating at Razvan with a thin whip, over and over until Razvan hung limply from his chains.

Impotent rage swept through Nicolas. He couldn't bear to see Razvan so helpless, beaten by a monster for trying to save a child. He shook with the need to strike back, desperate for his own power, hating his inability to save Razvan. The emotions were so strong that it took him a few moments before he realized he was feeling the child's passionate need to help her father every bit as well as his own sentiments.

She leapt out from behind the column and raced across the ice. Nicolas barely had time to push to the front when she kicked Xavier hard behind the knee. The old man tilted ominously, and then crumpled to the floor of the cave, howling. Lara tried to pull the chains from her father's arms, the vampire blood burning through the pads of her fingers. Nicolas felt the pain stabbing like a knife all the way to the bone, robbing him of breath. She whirled around to the man, trying to pick himself up off the floor, crouching down, patting at his tunic pockets to try to find the key to unlock the chains.

Xavier slapped her hard, sending her flying. Nicolas actually felt the Dragonseeker blood in her surge to the fore to aid her body in its catlike movements. Lara was obviously unaware of the way she landed on her feet, a seven-year-old child, untrained, yet already moving with physical prowess. She rushed the old man again.

This time, Xavier was ready for her. He threw her down and lashed her repeatedly with the whip, drawing thin red streaks across her body. She rolled and covered her head as he lashed her viciously.

«You want him free? You want that, girl? He'll smell the blood and come sniffing at you like a hungry hound. He hasn't had blood in days and he'll tear into you.» The old man kicked her and shuffled across to her father.

Razvan fought at the chains, threatening Xavier and calling out to Lara to run. Nicolas couldn't get up. The pain of the whip, the burns and he was certain a cracked rib were too much for the small body they occupied. He could only lie there helplessly covering Lara's spirit, doing his best to shield her while Xavier stabbed a needle into Razvan's neck and dispensed a yellowish liquid.

Xavier stepped back from his grandson and watched with gleeful eyes. «She wants you free, Razvan, and I grant her wish.»

Tatijana! Branislava! You must come to her aid. Please, please get her away from me. Block her mind, block my mind. I cannot bear to harm her again. This is too much, even for me.

Nicolas heard the plea in his head and Lara's small body tried to push itself up. He could see Razvan's face contorting. Saw Xavier step away from him, his expression cunning. Razvan's eyes glowed red and his teeth lengthened.

Fear consumed Nicolas, ate him from the inside out. He scrambled with Lara, trying to dig into the ice

for purchase to get away, but only slipped. Razvan lifted his head and sniffed the air-scenting the blood, just as Xavier said he would. He turned his head slowly until his mad eyes focused on Lara.

She whimpered and tried to crawl away. Growling, he was on her, licking at the drops of blood beading on her skin from the whip marks.

She fought, trying to push him away, but he pulled her arm to him and sank his teeth deep into her wrist. She screamed.

Nicolas felt the slice through his skin, the tearing of muscle and tissue, the puncture into his vein. It burned. More than physical was the agony of knowing he was so helpless. No matter how he fought, no matter how many blows he landed, there was no escaping those teeth gnawing at his flesh, or gulping at his blood.

Every moment made him weak until he felt he couldn't lift his arms to ward off his inevitable death. He almost welcomed death. It was preferable to being so powerless. His heart jumped in alarm. This then, was how he had made Lara feel. Hopeless. Filled with despair. So weak and vulnerable instead of making her feel powerful and cherished. This was the sin he would carry for all time.

Xavier pushed Razvan away and jerked Lara's arm to his mouth. The pain of his teeth was worse than Razvan's. His grandson pushed back, clawing at Lara and growling as the two men scuffled and fought over the prize. Lara wept softly until her body was too weak even for that. She lay panting, wheezing, her lungs struggling for air as Xavier controlled Razvan using magic, caging him in a field of energy and walking him back to his chains.

The old man turned to look at the child sprawled on the floor, his face a mask of fury. «You dare touch me? Kick me? I give you food. Life even. Ungrateful little brat.» He reached down and hauled Lara up by her hair, the long red-gold curls framing her face.

Energy crackled and light sparked around his open palm. Shears appeared, sharp and wicked. Without preamble he hacked at the curls so that great chunks of silky hair fell to the floor of the ice cave. Lara screamed and writhed, trying desperately to wiggle free. Xavier took a firmer grip and kept cutting, all the while humming.

Horrified, Nicolas shoved Lara aside, knowing Xavier was purposely humiliating her, cutting the hair as close to her scalp as possible. Long strands of black hair began to rain down to pile on top of Lara's head, until the long thick strands of midnight black covered every inch of silky red.

Carpathian hair grew fast, long and thick and luxurious, almost like the pelt of an animal and few ever cut their hair. It was a sacred tradition in their culture and the ancients especially had an aversion to a shorn head. Nicolas was no exception. As the chunks of hair fell, he felt sick inside.

Lara's spirit stirred. Whether she liked it or not she was his lifemate and as her distress weighed on him, so did his on her. She pushed deeper into his mind, allowing him to pull her away from the childhood memories. Nicolas didn't hesitate, treating her sudden capitulation as a gift. He surrounded her spirit and took them fast from the past to the present, understanding completely why the aunts and her father had blocked her memories. He had lived them with her and he was shaky and sick inside.

Nicolas held Lara in his arms, looking down into her face, breathing for both of them, calling her name softly. «Come back to me,o jela sielamak . Light of my soul, be with me, Lara.»

She blinked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears, exhaustion on her face, mouth trembling, her fingers sliding off his arm when she tried to hold on to him. She lifted her hand and stared, horrified at the blood smearing her palm.

Chapter 9

Nicolas looked down into Lara's opaque eyes. Glass eyes. Unseeing eyes. He had forced her spirit close to the surface-he still surrounded her there refusing to let her go-but she had not committed herself to life. She refused to commit herself to him.