Dark Tarot (Dark Carpathians) - Page 131

“You fool. Look at what he’s done. Left you to be torn apart by the undead,” the voice hissed, clearly displeased.

“Better dead than dishonored,” she stated. “He is my lifemate. I believe in him.”

“I will see what you have to say when they fall upon you and tear you to pieces, draining you of every drop of blood you have in your body. You will die in torment, in agony, and your lifemate will witness your torture.”

“What happened to your charm?” she asked. “Show yourself. If you’re so powerful, why do you cloak yourself in a voice rather than show me who you really are? You are now hiding behind these gullible vampires who believe you will give them a portal to the other realm. You can’t do that and you know it. If you could, you would slip your demons through all the time. You’re here, in the realm of shadows, where it is easy to deceive, and they are so desperate to escape that they have forgotten, even as they tell their own lies. Are you such a coward, then?”

A terrible snarl greeted her challenge. Then a man materialized between her and the vampires, waving his hand to stop those threatening to consume her. He was dressed in what had been an immaculate suit, but now that she had angered the demon, his true self could be seen through his illusion. His thighs were huge and rounded and appeared to be covered in hair where they had split the seams of his trousers. His fingernails were long and pointed, as were his ears. He stared at her with malevolent eyes.

“You dare to confront me?” A sly, very cruel smile curved his slim lips. He waved his hand to open the ground just to the left of them, where the rocks were piled high in a semblance of a mountain. There was no growth on the mountain, not even stunted trees. The ground looked burned and scarred. “This is what happens to anyone daring to test me.”

She felt the blast of heat as he opened the rocks to show her the cave inside, where violent masses of red-orange threads spun and shot flames into the air in all directions. It took great effort to keep her heart rate steady.

Adalasia feigned fear, using her tongue to moisten her lips. “The Cave of Fire,” she whispered, pushing awe and what she hoped was terror into her voice. “It’s real? Not an illusion? I have heard of this place.”

“Your precious lifemate dared to challenge me,” the demon said.

She stuck her chin in the air. “By refusing your temptations.” She made it a statement. “He refused to betray me, didn’t he?”

The demon growled and snarled, his eyes taking on a red glow that reminded her of Sandu and the guardians. There was something demonic about them—those demons resided inside of them. The difference was, they fought to keep their honor no matter what the temptation was. No matter what trial they had to overcome. This demon hadn’t, just as the Carpathian hunters who had chosen to become vampires had given up all honor and, in doing so, their souls.

“You forced Sandu into the Cave of Fire merely because he had honor and you did not?” she whispered, deliberately angering him more, all the while pretending she wasn’t aware she was doing so. “That’s so wrong. Don’t you even see how wrong that is?”

The buttons on his shirt popped as his chest expanded in his fury. “You have no right to judge me.”

“You look at the vampires with such contempt because they are taken in by your smooth lies. You use your voice on them, and they do your bidding. To you, that makes them less than you, inferior. You preen and strut like a peacock, but in truth, you bow before your mistress and lick her boots, don’t you? That makes you on par with the soulless Carpathians, doesn’t it?” She taunted him deliberately.

He roared, spittle flying from his mouth, his eyes twin pinpoints of sheer red fury. The ground shook. Even the vampires ceased their relentless wailing.

“How dare you.” His voice was barely human, barely able to be understood.

“I don’t know why you’re getting so angry.” Adalasia sweetened her tone and widened her eyes as she slid her hand inside her jacket to retrieve the sword of light. The sword found her palm, and she wrapped her fingers around it. The hilt was as familiar to her as breathing, a part of her. Once she touched it, she felt surer, much more confident in who she was, Adalasia Ravasio, guardian of the eastern gate that held back the demon.

“Have I said anything untrue? Don’t you answer to your mistress? Don’t you have to do her bidding? If you fail her, are you punished? Tortured? I think you fear her. That’s why you pretend to have such power, so you can frighten others the way she scares you.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Vampires
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