Dark Tarot (Dark Carpathians)

Benedek took the cards without hesitation. For a moment, there was the smallest struggle, as if power met power, and then sparks in a multitude of colors rose, as if the cards could see past the brutal fighter, the dark aura, to discover the artist in the man. He shuffled and did as she asked.

“Choose one of the thirds and hand them to me.”

She went for a simple layout, turning the cards faceup. She could feel the energy running through them. His energy and that of the cards, or the goddess’s. The truth. She didn’t always know what to call it. She only knew that it was there, guiding her. She saw right away that his lifemate was alive in this century. Not only was she alive, but there had been a distinct reaction, joy throughout the cards at Benedek’s arrival.

Adalasia couldn’t help smiling. Big. It was there in her mind. In her heart. In her soul. Such a relief. She was so thankful she nearly burst into tears. She looked up at him. “You definitely have a lifemate, Benedek. There is an answer here.” She looked over the cards. Although joyful, there were signs of danger. Many signs of danger along the way. He had a journey to take just as Sandu and she were on, and his was twisted and hard to interpret, just as hers was. At least she could tell him he did have a lifemate.

She felt the burst of happiness from the brethren for Benedek in her mind, although there was little expression on their faces. She wasn’t certain they even knew they felt any emotion.

“Sisarke, you have given me much to think about on this night. I thank you for what you have done.” He stood and bowed formally to her before walking away.

The moment Benedek got up from the small table, Sandu was there to help her up. “You need to walk around and stretch, Sivamet. These readings wear you out.”

“I was very tense. It was frightening to think I might see something I didn’t want to in the cards. I have to cleanse them before I read for Petru,” she added. “Benedek is powerful, and there can’t be a trace of him lingering when I do a reading for Petru.”

She was careful to make certain she had cleansed the cards before she sat down once again across from Petru. The idea of reading the cards for Petru was a little easier after Benedek, although she was still tense. She tried not to be. She didn’t want to influence the cards, or the goddess card. It was just that, like Benedek, Petru Cioban was a man of honor, and she wanted his lifemate to be alive. She controlled her trembling hands better than her trembling heart, but part of that was her determination to keep the reading as short as possible and just concentrate on whether his lifemate was alive. That was his question.

She watched carefully, as did the others, as she transferred the deck to his hands. Like Benedek, there was no hesitation in Petru. He simply took the cards in his capable, strong hands. The moment the thin material touched his bare skin, there was that flare of life, of recognition, power to power.

Petru’s mercury-colored eyes went silver, and his platinum hair crackled the way the cards did. Little jagged streaks of lightning appeared around the cards as if a great storm had suddenly swept in. The storm could be seen in his eyes, but if the white-hot flares snapping at his hands hurt, he didn’t drop the cards or indicate in any way he was about to toss them aside. He took charge, shuffling with dexterous fingers while the storm raged around his hands. He didn’t falter, not even as the lightning began to recede and finally was gone.

Adalasia hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until she let it out, or that she’d pressed her hand over her heart so hard, she was nearly bruising herself. She pressed her lips together, silently sending up a prayer that Petru got his answer in the affirmative.

“Divide the deck into fourths and choose each of the stacks to represent one of the directions. Place them facedown where you want them to be.”

He did as she asked. He divided the deck into four and put each stack into positions representing north, south, east and west. Looking at Adalasia with his stormy eyes, he kept one finger on top of each of the stacks.

“This deck is powerful, sisarke. It carries a feminine power, wholly Carpathian, and sought to look inside me.” There was no accusation, only a statement.

She always relied on her intuition when giving a reading. Petru was an ancient, and there was no way he would let anyone he didn’t know see beyond those barriers he had, just as Sandu and the others had them. The goddess had tried to penetrate, but she hadn’t succeeded, not even when she’d threatened him. He had remained steadfast.