Dark Tarot (Dark Carpathians)

“If we’ve made a mistake, Sandu, this could be disastrous.” She had to warn him.

“There is no mistake, Sivamet.” He placed his hand over his heart.

It was that gesture that gave her the courage to reach under the hem of her shirt and find the card always attached to her skin. Most times it was unseen, always unfelt. Now, surprisingly, it was very prominent, as if the goddess card had been waiting. The moment her fingers secured the card and she withdrew it, she felt the familiar confidence the cards always gave her when she had them in her hands.

She held the card to her for a moment and then out to Sandu. He came to her, and for the first time ever, as he prowled toward her, power crackled in the air around him. There was no doubt that he was fully Carpathian and he ruled supreme. Dominance and control were in every line of his body—in every step he took. Confidence and cool assurance flowed through him. His eyes meeting hers, he reached out for the card.

At once there was a burst of light. Adalasia looked down at the goddess card. The torch in her hand was suddenly lit with bright red-andorange flames. Silver gleamed off the blade of her knife. The serpent twisted and writhed. The skull’s eyes opened to stare at Sandu. The goddess peered at him with her silvery blue eyes, those brilliant blue flames burning in them. Her hair, streaked so much like Sandu’s, crackling around her head. The two stared at each other for what seemed an eternity to Adalasia.

Sandu took the card from her, cradling it in his large palm. The pad of his thumb slid over the surface in a reverent, loving caress. “Liona,” he whispered, “are you alive?”

The liquid being poured from one chalice to another turned dark red, like blood. The dress seemed to flutter. The two heads facing in the other directions turned toward Sandu to look at him. The roses and vines on the goddess’s dress suddenly lit up in vivid color, and then it all began to fade.

Sandu looked down at the card for a long time before he handed it back to Adalasia. “I asked the wrong question and she didn’t answer.” His eyes met hers over the card.

Adalasia placed the card against her heart. “She answered.”

“She did?”

She nodded. “She indicated she was alive. The blood flowing from one chalice to the other. The dress fluttering as if in the wind. Her attention turning directly to you. She recognized you. More, you recognized her.” She hadn’t expected that. Clearly he hadn’t, either.

Sandu sank down onto the bed beside her. “I felt her through our blood connection. It was so strong. I didn’t get a lot of memories, only strong ones of her. Of being with her, laughing with her. How could I not remember her? I still don’t when I reach for memories of us together as children. There is nothing there. My mind remains blank.”

Adalasia heard the frustration in his voice. He hadn’t felt that particular emotion before. He’d accepted that he didn’t have a past, just like he’d accepted that he would battle the undead until he was eventually killed. Now that he had a memory of his sister, he wanted more.

She reached out to him a little tentatively, rubbing his arm gently. “At least you know she’s alive. You know you have a sister. That’s more than we knew before we came here, Sandu. We made progress, and it was the best progress. It would have been so terrible to make this journey and, at the end of it, find out Liona was lost to us.”

His hand covered hers before she could pull it away. “You are right, ewal emninumam, we are learning much on this journey. Those taking this journey with us have bonded with you. Do you feel them?”

Adalasia nodded. More and more she did. They were always in and out of Sandu’s mind. Although she had never gone beyond the thick barriers in his mind, she was often catching little pieces of the other four “guardians.” She sometimes thought she knew more about them than they knew about themselves.

“If you gave each of them a reading, would you know if they survive and find a lifemate?” Sandu asked.

His thumb moved back and forth on her inner wrist, right over her rapidly beating pulse.

She wanted to be honest with him. “I don’t like to do that sort of thing, Sandu. If one of them isn’t going to survive, or isn’t going to find his lifemate, I don’t want to be the one to deliver the bad news. It isn’t like I can lie to them or deceive them.”

“Nor would they want you to do that.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Each has come to me separately and asked if you can verify what was told to them. Someone else has said they each have a lifemate waiting for them. They believe that you can give them the necessary hope to hold out longer against the scarring on their souls in order to find the lifemate promised.”