Dark Song

“You should know me by now, sívamet. Would I go into battle without knowing what I face? I saved Sergey for last because I know what he holds. He cannot live. He will never stop trying to find a way to get to you. Bodies of innocent men, women and children will be nailed to the gates of the compound each rising. We cannot have that. Eventually, your kind heart will break and you will go to find him. Where is your faith in me? Your trust? More importantly, minan päläfertiilam, where is your belief in us?”

Elisabeta’s dark eyes drifted over his face. “You look so worn, beloved.” She sighed. “If you wish to do this, then we do this.”

He waited, letting her feel their combined strength. Their power. It rolled over the meadow, filling the air, impossible to contain. She had to feel it the way he did. It wasn’t his power alone, it was hers as well—the two of them together.

She straightened her shoulders and nodded. “You have a plan. I know that you do. Tell me what you want me to do once he arrives.”

She knew Sergey would come. Like Ferro, she had no doubt. Ferro smiled down at his little songbird who had finally escaped her cage and yet, with the cage door wide open, she had chosen him, chosen to stay with her centuries-old lifemate.

“You know the plan, piŋe sarnanak, we have practiced it a thousand times.”

Master. Elisabeta whispered the call in her mind, keeping her voice thin and fearful. Can you hear me? I have little time. He is not aware.

At once there was a stirring. A black malevolent presence poured into Elisabeta’s mind, thick like an oil, clogging every pore. Over the centuries she had developed false walls so that the master vampire believed he could search her mind and know what she had been up to. With the exception of having access to her lifemate’s soul, he believed he controlled her completely, when she had slowly built compartment after compartment, pushing him further and further out.

Now he saw only what Elisabeta wanted him to see. Terror. Fear of her lifemate. Of the Carpathian people. Of their demands on her. She understood nothing of their lives and they made fun of her behind her back because she didn’t know how to do anything for herself. Her lifemate was ashamed of her.

Why do you bother me? Sergey sounded disdainful.

Elisabeta hesitated. Retreated. The old Elisabeta would never have answered him or begged him to take her back. She would have been too terrified of the consequences of speaking to him.

He is drawing closer, she cautioned Ferro.

In the meadow she stood, appearing shaky, one hand half covering her face, taking several steps back into the deeper concealment of the trees, bending forward as if to peer out, looking up at the sky hopefully.

Why would he be unaware of what you are saying to me? Sergey demanded.

He was gone for a long time this rising. When he returned, he was wounded very badly. They called for the healer and several of the ancients to give him blood.

Does he come alone? Ferro asked. That would be so arrogant but so like Sergey, thinking he could secret Elisabeta away once again. Cornel and Dorin wouldn’t know she was back with him and he would forever have the advantage over them.

He has two very minor vampires with him. They are circling around the meadow to ensure that I am alone. His intention is to slay them both after he takes me back with him.

Sergey made a show of sighing heavily. Very well, then. I will take you back, but you will be punished. Walk out into the middle of the meadow. My servants will collect you and bring you back.

Elisabeta froze. Retreated further into her mind. Shook like the little mouse she was.

I command you to do this. Walk out into the meadow now or I will leave you to those people. I have no time for your stubbornness.

She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She simply shivered, a small ball of absolute terror as only Elisabeta could be. She was so magnificent, Ferro wanted to kiss her senseless. Sergey would never leave her there. As a lure, she was absolute perfection, too scared to move. The master vampire was too close to his obsession. He needed her with every breath he drew, and there was no way he was going to allow her to slip through his fingers.