Dark Carousel (Dark 26)

Charlotte ducked her head, embarrassed that she was a vessel of betrayal for the monstrous psychopath vampire. Tariq pulled her snugly beneath his shoulder and wrapped an arm around her so that she felt comforted while he and the other men began chanting in their language and weaving some kind of barrier in her mind. She felt it going up, a thick shield that blocked out Vadim's possession. She knew it was temporary, that the vampire could eventually find a way through it, but for the moment, it made her feel safe.

"Mataias." Lojos pointed to a chunk of stone that had come out of the wall when the vampires had reduced everything in the underground city to rubble. "That will work for our leader."

Mataias nodded and crouched down beside the large piece of bluish rock while his brothers gathered several smaller, but solid pieces in various colors to line up behind the bluish chunk.

Tomas found a gem-filled rock and added it to the growing pile in front of Mataias. Lojos walked down the tunnel seeking something along the walls. He stopped several times to examine roots and a few plants growing rather stubbornly through cracks in the dirt or stones forming the tunnels. He seemed in no hurry and neither did the others. They remained silent and watchful.

When Lojos bent and began tugging a plant, Charlotte peeked around Tariq in order to get a good look at what Lojos was doing. He carried the plant to the stones and placed a little segment on top of each stone. Tomas waved his hand over the rock with gems embedded in it and it broke apart. He placed gems on each of the chosen stones Lojos had put pieces of the plant on. Simultaneously, all three men stood and stepped back as if giving the rocks room. She held her breath, aware something big was about to happen, but not understanding what the men could do with a few rocks.

Their hands began to weave an intricate pattern over the stones. As they moved their wrists and arms to a rhythm only they heard, they added their voices. The tone was pitched very low. So low, Charlotte felt the earth vibrate beneath her feet. She didn't take her eyes off the rocks. The largest twitched, as if feeling the vibrations in the earth.

She felt the chanting right through her body. Shaking her up. Making her tremble. The notes were low and clean and uttered with tremendous force. The sound vibrated until the stones began to break apart. Chips at first, then larger pieces until forms began to take shape. All the while, the three men chanted, their hands never faltering as they created what were fast becoming several dragons.

Charlotte couldn't believe how detailed each creature was. The blue one was large, its body and tail growing fast. It was all stone, and its various shadings gave it a striking appearance. The gems were the eyes. The stones took on the visage of fierce dragons quickly. The commands in the voices grew as well until the tunnels vibrated with the demands. Once the dragons had taken shape, once every detail was done to the men's satisfaction, the tone of command changed, became even more demanding.

It was so fascinating to watch the rocks grow in size and take on the shape and look of dragons that she didn't notice anything else until she heard Tariq let out a low warning hiss between clenched teeth. Startled, she looked around her. Rocks in the tunnel walls as well as on the ground either shook apart or grew in size. It wasn't only the chosen rocks reacting to the notes the three men produced.

She realized the combination of their voices and hands formed the dragons, but the actual low notes shook the rocks and changed the properties in them. The ceiling could come down on them, or the earth might open if they continued much longer. As it was, there were several cracks in the ground, the walls, and the ceiling. Dirt trickled down on top of them, but Tariq waved his hand and it stopped. She noticed the other Carpathian hunters were moving their hands toward the walls as well as above and below them. Clearly they were shoring things up.

Abruptly the voices of the triplets rose in perfect harmony, no longer shaking apart the ground and the walls of the tunnel as she'd feared. Charlotte had no doubt that if they chose, the three men could have taken down the entire city beneath the one above it. They had a remarkable gift, one she wouldn't mind having. It made her wonder if all the strange shapes formed in stone throughout the world hadn't been made by them rather than what the history books proclaimed.

Fire burst through the rock, the dragons glowing orange-red through cracks. The rock itself turned molten. The chanting slid into a softer harmony and the rock bellies of the dragons began to cool, the cracks no longer glowing, finally turning dark.

The notes turned coaxing. She watched the small segments of straggly green plants shudder on each of the dragon backs. Charlotte held her breath and tightened her hold on Tariq's shirt as the green segments began to shred into fine hairs. Each individual hair floated up above the dragon the plant had been sitting on. The chant went from coaxing to pure, steely command and suddenly, as if they were spears, the separate pieces stiffened and slammed hard into the stone, so hard they buried themselves deep. Each dragon absorbed at least a hundred separate hairs of the plant.

The three men dropped their hands and their voices went still. The tunnel was so quiet Charlotte could hear her own heartbeat. It drummed loudly, but even that couldn't distract her from watching the stone dragons intently. There was the blue leader, a large one so detailed now that she wanted to touch his scales to see if he was alive. Behind him were four smaller dragons, red, green, brown and a striking orange.

Abruptly and simultaneously, the three men clapped their hands, a single word bursting from them. The blue dragon shuddered. His great sides heaved and then moved in and out like a bellows. Very slowly his head turned first one way and then the other. His tail switched. The slightly smaller dragons began to move as well, twisting their necks and shaking their heads, breathing until the sound of the air moving in and out of their bodies filled the tunnel.

"Oh. My. God. Tariq," she whispered, pressing her forehead against his side, never taking her gaze from the five dragons. "That's incredible. An incredible gift." She'd been so fascinated she hadn't noticed the passing of time and was shocked that it had only taken a few minutes for the three hunters to make their dragons out of rock and plants.

Tariq didn't respond with words, but he tightened his arm around her so that her front was locked tight to his side.

The blue dragon took a step forward, turned its head toward Tomas, Mataias and Lojos, eyes intelligent as it listened to the commands the three men gave it. The gemlike eyes glowed with purpose as it once again faced the entrance and began to walk slowly toward the opening. The other dragons followed, one at a time. The men moved as a group behind them.

Tariq swung around and lifted her into his arms, his brilliant blue eyes staring directly into hers. "Hold on, sielamet. We go out in dragon form. Keep your mind as still as possible. Vadim will try to push through the barrier. Stay strong. He'll use his voice on you to try to trick you into thinking he knows where you are. Remember, he can't get to Lourdes, no matter what he says. Believe in me through this. Trust in me."

She could drown in his eyes. Just live there forever. She nodded slowly. Who else was she going to trust? She was so far out of her element she didn't have a clue what to do. Even Genevieve, who had a vivid imagination, wouldn't believe any of this.

The last of the five stone dragons were through the opening and the others went out, Tariq and Charlotte with them. When she looked around her, as they launched into the air, there were no men, only dragon bodies in full flight. The stone dragons circled the other dragons as if they were the Carpathian hunters protecting the other dragons as they emerged. Once all of them were in the sky, the blue dragon took the lead with the others following, forming a V shape. Tariq, with Charlotte clinging to him, was on the left side, two dragons down from the blue dragon.

The formation was tight as they blasted across the sky. Suddenly, the blue dragon dove, jaws wide, fire blazing. Charlotte leaned into the black dragon's embrace, shocked that she not only saw his scales but felt them. Her man, Tariq Asenguard, sophisticated owner of a string of successfu

l nightclubs, was a compact black dragon complete with wings and scales. When she looked down at her own arms, she was part of that dragon, with the same shiny black scales.

An illusion. Oh. My. God. Her dragon suddenly dove as well, mouth wide, spewing red flames. All around her the sky erupted with fire and color. Below them, an army of vampires, humans and puppets scattered, trying to protect themselves from the dragons spraying them from above with fire.

Won't the people in the city below see this?

We're protecting them. Tariq's grim response was terse.

The vampires hastily tried to concoct cover for the humans in their army. Spears whistled through the air. One hit the orange rock dragon and bounced off, the tip shattering. Even as the black dragon dove to spray his fire, she realized all the dragons continued toward the compound. They dove down, and as they came up, they were winging their way through the sky away from the failed ambush.

Stop them or your niece dies. I have her. Lourdes. She screams for you, do you not hear her?

Oh God. She could. She could hear the child's shattered cries. Everything in her responded. She needed to go to Lourdes.

Show me yourself. Show me which dragon you ride. Drop from it and I will ensure you live. If you do, I will spare this child. Otherwise, her death will be long and hard. She will feel every moment of pain before she dies.

He would do that. Vadim was a monster, but . . .

Sielamet. Tariq, his voice. Warm. Reassuring. He'd told her Lourdes was safe and she had to believe him.

I can find him. Follow his voice back. She wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't. She needed to find Vadim. To see him. She searched the ground as the black dragon raced through the sky, leaving her breathless--and unable to make out a single face below her. But that voice coming at her . . . into her mind . . . was filling her with doubts.

She turned her attention to that voice wrapped in such sweetness. Sticky sweetness. False. It had a lingering aftertaste. Sweet turned to bitter. Almost like ashes. Deliberately she let herself get lost in that bitter ash. She turned her head and looked down toward the harbor. There, Tariq. On that ship. He's there, directing all this from safety.

The leader of the dragons made a wide circle, his followers in tight formation behind him, the circle wide enough to include the harbor. The moment the realization came to the vampires on the ground, they took to the air in defense of Vadim. Fire rained, spears of fire, great bolts that sank deep into the deck of the vessel, hit the sides and went in deep, so deep she couldn't see the spears, only the giant holes. The terrible spears penetrated the ship from every direction, a fierce, unrelenting attack as the dragons dove low, spraying the decks until the vessel erupted into a fiery ball.

She heard the shriek in her head, the scream of a madman, made more insane by the explosions of violence surrounding him. A black shadow rose, a huge one that seemed to encompass most of the sky. Immediately the dragons went after the shadow, blowing great columns of fire that tore through the shadow until it was in tatters.

Vampires rose, shrieking, throwing themselves at the dragons in a frenzy of fury, trying to protect Vadim as he raced across the sky away from the battle. Charlotte glimpsed Fridrick, not the smooth man she'd seen in the parking garage, but a vile being, with glowing red eyes and bloodstained, jagged teeth. He rose up fast and sliced at the neck of the dragon carrying her in its arms. Terrified, she closed her eyes, curling into Tariq. The body of the dragon shuddered. She felt the great wings beating in the sky, the heat of flames. She knew Fridrick had scored a hit, but the dragon continued to fly.

The battle raged for a few short minutes, but she realized the dragons were circling back in formation, protecting her. All of them. Every single male Carpathian. Protecting her. She felt tears burn. The wind tore them away, but she knew these men, regardless of their inability to feel emotion, put her before their own safety.

She heard the screams of the puppets and humans as the dragons passed overhead, but everything was a blur and the dragons stayed in formation as they headed home, Tariq and Charlotte in the very center.

12

Charlotte woke with every muscle in her body aching. The dragons might have been illusion, but riding them took a toll on one's body. She didn't open her eyes, savoring the feel of just drifting, half awake and half asleep in a warm cocoon. She'd been brutally tired the night before and could barely stand when they'd arrived at the compound.

Tariq had been wounded when Fridrick attacked them. She'd seen the blood on his shoulder and neck, but he simply shook his head and told her the others were healers and they would take care of it. He would be a few minutes and then he'd join her.

She'd expected to have nightmares, but she'd slept like the dead. She'd taken one peek at Lourdes, grateful for Genevieve, who had put her niece to bed for her. The child was sound asleep although it was early morning. She'd left a note for Genevieve to wake her if she overslept and then she remembered standing by Lourdes's bed, swaying, unable to think what to do next. Tariq had picked her up as if she were featherlight, cradling her to his chest, whispering to her to go to sleep. She'd done just that with the feel of his lips brushing her eyelids.

Now she was pressed against someone warm and solid and she found herself smiling, knowing it was Tariq. His legs were tangled with hers. One thigh was over the top of hers, and his arm was a band around her waist. His fingers moved along the underside of her breast and instantly she became aware of the fact that she wore nothing at all. She didn't want to open her eyes and face whatever new nightmare would come along; she just wanted to stay there in the bed with Tariq and shut the rest of the world out. She let herself drift in a haze of drowsiness and warmth.

Tariq's fingers stroked gently over her flesh, tracing patterns absently into her warm flesh. It felt . . . lazy. Nice. Sexy. She needed that. She needed to just lie in his arms and feel loved. Protected. Safe. His lips brushed her temple, and he shifted, sliding over the top of her, blanketing her. His hips fit snugly, perfectly in the cradle of hers. His hair was a glossy chestnut fall, drifting over her shoulder and her left breast in a sensual slide.

His eyes were warm blue, almost sapphire, like two gems staring straight into her soul. Her heart contracted. Her belly softened. Her womb fluttered and her sex clenched. His mouth moved gently over her face. Small, butterfly kisses, featherlight, yet each brush of his lips sent small tremors through her.

One hand went to her throat, circling it so her heart beat into his palm. He held her eyes as his kiss went to her chin, his teeth scraping with exquisite gentleness. His hand moved from her throat down her body, sweeping slowly over her breasts, the valley between them, to her rib cage and then her belly. His gaze never left hers and she saw it there. In his eyes. The claiming. The possession. The stark, raw love.

She didn't know how he could feel that way about her, but it was there in his eyes and his eyes didn't lie. She felt tears burning. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she belonged. As if she'd come home. She'd traveled the world extensively, looking . . . but for what she was never sure. She just knew she had never found it until this moment.

He circled his cock with his fist. "Are you ready for me, sielamet?"

She nodded, never looking away from his eyes. Of course she was ready. How could she be anything but ready for him? She felt as if she was made for him. Born for him. The broad crown nudged her entrance and her muscles contracted, wanting him desperately, needing to draw him inside. He was thick and hard, velvet over steel, pushing through her tight muscles, making her gasp, arch her back, buck her hips to meet his invasion.

Very gently, with unhurried motion, he took first her left leg and wrapped it around him and then her right so that she hugged him with her legs, digging her heels into his thighs. He caught both of her hands, threading his fingers through hers and raising her arms to either side of her head, pinning them to the mattress.

He began to move, slowly at first, his gaze burning into

hers. She knew what he was saying to her. He was making love to her. Worshiping her body with his. Making certain she heard him and that she knew exactly what he was saying to her. He wanted her looking into his eyes so she could see what he felt. He wanted her to be in his mind so she could see his thoughts, so she could know him as intimately and as thoroughly as he knew her.

With his body locked in hers, moving slowly so that the burn built and built, looking into his eyes and knowing she was going to be there forever was the most sensual, intimate thing she could ever conceive. He gave her that and it was so beautiful.

Her body followed his every movement, reaching for him. Surrounding him. As the tension in her coiled tighter and tighter, her muscles locked around him, building the wonderful friction so that each time he surged into her, streaks of fire burned through both of them. She opened her mouth in a small gasp, moving her hips to meet his, tightening her fingers through his and holding him to her with her legs.

"So close, honey," she gasped, feeling the burn building into an out of control wildfire.

"That's it, sielamet," he whispered. "You're so beautiful when you give that to me." He leaned forward and took her mouth. The action pressed his cock right into her most sensitive spot so that lightning streaked through her. She gasped, tightening her legs, moving with him, catching fire, letting the storm take her.

"Mine," he whispered softly, watching her, his eyes still holding hers. "Love this, woman, when I give you that, but love you so much more."

Then he was slamming into her, deep and hard, taking her with him again, so that when he emptied himself into her, she tumbled into another strong orgasm, this one off the charts, stealing her breath and sending every nerve ending into sensual awareness. She lay under him a long time, wrapped around him, surrounding him, loving being so close. He hadn't taken her blood, and a part of her had wanted that, but she knew he wanted to complete the conversion and she wasn't quite ready for that.