Carpathian 17 - Dark Curse

wicked teeth one more time.
    She covered her eyes and bit back a sob.
    Lara. You are Dragonseeker. You can do this. We are strong. We endure. We do not ever succumb to evil. Do you understand? You must escape.
    Auntie Bronnie always lectured her, but there was love in her voice. Worry. Determination. Auntie Tatijana sounded sad and weak, but the love was there as well, although these days, she rarely wasted energy on talking. Lara knew something was wrong, terribly wrong and she was frightened of losing the two of them.
    \"I don\'t want to be alone,\" she whispered aloud into the freezing cold of the bluish chamber. She didn\'t say it in her mind to her aunts, because she didn\'t want them to know she was nearly paralyzed with fear of leaving. This terrible place of pain and death and cold was her home and here at least she had the aunts, and she knew what to expect. Outside-outside she would be alone in a foreign world.
    Lara\'s body suddenly jerked upright. At the same time she felt the invader spreading through her brain like sludge. A cry escaped. Her instinct was to struggle against the command, but she forced her will to lie quiet, to pretend to be subdued. It was difficult when everything in her shuddered and withdrew from that spreading stain.
    Do not fight. Do not fight, Aunt Bron\'s voice whispered. Save your strength. Let him think he has control. We will all strike at the same moment. This will be the last time, child. The last time ...
    Lara choked on the sob welling up. To have someone else inside of her, to feel evil invading her body, pushing at her mind and forcing his will on her caused bile to rise, flooding her throat and mouth with burning acid. She took a step. Another. Like a puppet controlled by strings. She couldn\'t prevent her instincts to fight.
    She resisted the invasive presence, trying to throw him out of her mind, a small rebellion that earned immediate retaliation.
    Her body jerked again and pain pierced her skull, like ice picks drilling holes through skin and bone. The sensation of spiders crawling on her skin, hundreds of them, swarming, engulfing her, nesting in her hair, biting at her scalp, had her frantically slapping at her body. She opened her mouth wide to scream, but nothing came out. She knew Razvan-her father-had no patience with tears or pleading. It infuriated him to listen to screaming, or to a childish voice. Her earliest memory was of him shaking her, snarling like one of the Page 2

    Christine Feehan: Dark Curse
    captured wolves he occasionally brought into his lair to torment.
    Whatever her memories, this was her way of life. The aunts had told her a child should be loved and treasured, never used for food, but it was only the memories they shared of their mother\'s childhood that all of them could really depend on. Not even the aunts had really experienced much more than what Lara\'s life was like.
    And memories-especially ancient ones-could be faulty.
    He is forcing me into the chamber. She tried to force down the rising panic, to keep herself from fighting, from exposing her abilities, but her sense of self-preservation was strong.
    You are coming to us, her aunt reminded her. Think only of that. You are leaving this terrible place to go to a new life where they cannot touch you ever again .
    Lara nodded and lessened her fight response. She couldn\'t lose it altogether or Razvan might suspect something was up. She was smart enough to know he sought to control her through fear. If she wasn\'t afraid enough, he would find a way to incite her terror so he could keep her under his thumb and biddable.
    She counted each step. She already knew the exact number-she had made this journey many, many times before. Thirty-seven steps through the corridor and then her body would jerk to the right, and go through the entrance into the large chamber where Razvan and Xavier always held their ritual ceremonies. The long hall was really a tunnel with a bluish ceiling and thick ice walls. Under her feet the ice was slick and solid, almost crystal-clear, always gleaming brightly from the orbs of light in the sconces. The light flickered along the walls, revealing the rainbow of colors, gleaming like jewels embedded in the frozen world.
    She loved the beauty, sculptures of orange-red and purplish-blue rising sharply from the floor, bursting into sparkling fountains frozen in place waiting for the light to hit them to come alive. She moved around the familiar shapes using short jerky