Dark Song

Elisabeta’s voice was like a breath of fresh air, a cool breeze moving through his mind, clearing away all doubt and the deep sadness that always took him when he thought about losing her after centuries of searching for her. He felt her fingers on his face, brushing along the lines carved deep there from centuries of wear, soothing him as nothing else ever could.

I am here with you. I may be afraid of everything, kont o sívanak, but for you I will always find the courage needed to walk by your side, if that is what you decree, for as long as you want me.

She sounded humble. A gentle woman, turning him inside out because all she thought of was him. There was no thought in her mind for herself at all. He knew that was a major part of her gift. She had to have been that way as a child, to be able to bring such peace to the ancient warriors.

She called him “strong heart” and yet, after looking at what she had endured for centuries, often the worst of her punishments on his behalf, guarding his soul, he thought his little songbird should be the one called kont o sívanak, strong heart, not him. She filled his soul with light, sweeping the darkness in him aside just with the brightness in her.

I will always want you with me, he assured her. That was the strict truth. Lifemates didn’t lie to each other.

What did they see in my memories? Is he there? Inside me? Her voice trembled, but she continued stroking caresses on his face and in his mind.

How did one answer that? He closed the wounds in Sandu’s wrist, politely murmuring his thanks, and shifted Elisabeta in his arms, holding her much more firmly to him. Sergey had been her entire world. The vampire had made it that way, ensuring there was no one else for her to talk to or interact with. Julija was really the first person she had ever connected with, and Sergey had held Elisabeta captive for centuries before that happened.

He is there in your memories, but I saw no evidence that he left anything of himself behind. Do you recall him casting spells? He has slivers of the high mage, Xavier, in him. He would have access to Xavier’s spells.

A little shudder ran through her body, but she had calmed. He realized it was because she was no longer thinking about the others in the room, or the healer examining her memories. She was focused on Ferro and the sadness that had swept through him. She was still trying to find a way to alleviate the dark melody that played repetitively through his mind. Ferro was still connected to Gary, a presence in his mind, staying very still but watching closely, just as Andor was.

He is not very good at casting spells, but he practices. It scares him because there are severe repercussions when mistakes are made, and he makes many mistakes.

Ferro considered that. If Sergey had access to Xavier’s spells but didn’t have the ability to actually cast them properly and was afraid of the consequences if he reproduced them incorrectly, then it was doubtful he used a spell on his favorite toy. Elisabeta had become necessary to Sergey. He had developed a need for her. Although Elisabeta had been his prisoner, in more ways, he had been hers.

Her breath hitched in her throat and her head tilted toward his. He looked down into her dark eyes. What do you mean, Ferro?

He liked that she wanted to enter into a discussion with him. She had a good mind. Sergey had convinced her she couldn’t use it.