Something in the way he revealed the information, the incredulous note in his voice, the absolute shock that anyone would think that, made her realize there was far more to the story than he was telling her. Something was very special about the Dubrinsky lineage for him to have such a reaction. He didn’t believe for one moment that the Malinovs could take the Dubrinskys’ place; if they did so it would somehow be the downfall of his people.
“What happened?” she prompted when he fell silent.
“They left very angry and I never saw them again as my friends. As Carpathians. Ivory, the one person they lived and cared for, had disappeared and they turned vampire that night. All of them. Deliberately. They didn’t wait until it was too late, until there was no hope of finding lifemates and the memories of love and friendship were totally gone.”
Her head jerked up and shock took hold, a thousand lightning strikes hitting all at once as realization dawned. She’d heard that word from him often. Lifemate. “Tariq, what does that mean? No hope of finding a lifemate and memories are totally gone. What would that have to do with turning vampire?”
He sighed. “Carpathian males over time lose their ability to see in color and to feel emotion. We’re the dark half of the soul and without the light to provide the way, we sink further and further into a gray world of nothing. We hunt the vampire, but it is only our honor that keeps us from joining them. When you cannot feel anything, you look for that one moment when you can. There is a rush when taking blood during a kill and the temptation of feeling at least that. The temptation whispers to you night after night. For centuries. Unrelenting.”
She moistened her suddenly dry lips. He hurt and that made her hurt. She didn’t know if she was feeling his pain or if it was her own, but he clearly felt the loss of his friends. If the things Tariq had told her were true, he had suffered. “How do you know she’s the right one?”
His blue eyes drifted over her face. There was stark possession there. Raw emotion so deep it shook her. “There is only one, Charlotte – she holds the other half of one’s soul. She could be in any century. We thought only Carpathian women could be lifemates, and our women had slowly disappeared until we had so few there were no children to bring us hope. The prince found Raven, and she was human. That gave the rest of us the will to continue when we were already long past our endurance.”
“What happens when you find your lifemate? How do you know she’s the right one? How can you tell?” Because he believed she was his, and she believed he belonged to her. And that was just plain crazy.
“When I heard your voice, I began to feel for the first time in centuries. Real emotions. More, I could see in color. Beautiful colors I hadn’t seen in so long I’d forgotten they existed. When I told you I do not see other women, I meant that. My cock reacts only to you. Only for you. My body would never accept another woman. You are my lifemate. My only.”
She held his words close, so close they sank into her heart. A little shiver crept down her spine. He lived in a world she could barely imagine.
“I saw you once,” he said. “A long time ago. When I was carving the horse. I turned and saw you. Looked right at you. I knew you existed, and I searched for so long. I didn’t ever want to think I couldn’t find you, but time passed and eventually…” He trailed off.
Charlotte couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped. She raised her fingers to her lips, pressing hard to keep back the shock of what he’d just revealed. He’d seen her. Far back in time, he’d seen her when she’d entered the tunnel, pulled by the memories in the wood. She put her finger in her mouth and tasted her own blood. Wincing, she removed her finger and rubbed the injured pad along her thigh.
“Do you have any idea how bizarre and scary everything you’ve told me is? I only know about vampires through horror films and books. They were fictional. Mythical creatures to scare us at Halloween. Not. Real.”
“They are very real, sielamet, and something is going on here that we do not yet understand. Something that involves you, Genevieve and Emeline. We found bodies beneath the cities, women in various stages of pregnancy. We believe the Malinovs are trying to establish their own empire. If they try to turn a woman who is not psychic she will go insane. A psychic woman, however, one with strong gifts, can handle the conversion.”
Charlotte really didn’t like the sound of that. “Conversion?” Her voice came out high. A mousy squeak.
He nodded, his eyes on her face. “It takes three blood exchanges to bring a gifted human into our world.”
She closed her eyes tight. Remembering. His mouth on her. Her mouth on him. That taste bursting in her mouth, addicting, setting up a terrible craving. His words, so gentle, so loving, his language, so sexy and intriguing. This was becoming more and more real. Her brain was finally allowing her to process everything he’d said. It was putting all the pieces together to give her the full picture. Tariq Asenguard was converting her, and eventually she would be the mother of all those children.
“I saw the film The Lost Boys,” she warned him.
“I did not see this film.” There was mild puzzlement, but the eyes didn’t waver.
She took a step back again, once more retreating. “A kick-ass film. Funny and scary. A vampire trying to put together his own family.”
“This is not a film, Charlotte. You are my family. My lifemate. The children are lost souls in need of help. I came to their aid because down through the centuries, that’s what I’ve done. What I always have done. I take in the lost and I care for them. If that is not what you want to do, I will stop. But you are mine.”
There was finality in those words, and studying his face, she could see there was little wiggle room around his declaration. He believed it absolutely and the scary thing was – so did she. She took another step back, shaking her head. It was too unbelievable. Fridrick murdering Genevieve’s boyfriend and her grandmother. Murdering Ricard Beaudet and then Charlotte’s brother. Tariq writing to Ricard – such a coincidence. The three men who followed them from Paris. Giving herself to a man she didn’t know after years of not allowing anyone to touch her. What was wrong with her that she was being swept down a path there was no returning from? She wasn’t that kind of woman.
She’d always been strong and confident, her own person. Independent. Too much so according to her brother. Yet one touch, one look, just Tariq’s voice alone could make her want to please him. Want to give him everything – anything he wanted. That so wasn’t her. She couldn’t just believe every incredible word coming out of his mouth. She knew, from touching the carousel horse, that he was ancient. She saw him, felt him, even thought he’d seen her looking at him. Now she knew he had.