Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

learned patience. Whatever
     was eluding him surely would come to him, there was no doubt in his mind.
    There it was. A tiny irregular beat inside her pulse. He listened intently.
    It’s not right, Riley said. This is strange. Something is very wrong here. Feel the way my blood moves in my veins.
     It’s very faint, but there is something pulling me toward the edge of the cliffs,
     over to the left. I think he was there . . .
    She broke off, shaking her head, and turned to look around her. A small grove of trees
     was off to the left, branches swaying slightly.
    I would know if he was here.
    You’re right. It wasn’t him, but his blood was here. A distance so as not to disturb
     the occupants, but someone or something is watching.
    Dax pushed a brushing of air that would feel like a touch on Riordan’s shoulder to
     warn him. He switched to the common Carpathian mind link. We are not alone.
    The watcher was no doubt following the movement of Riordan’s hands as he set the safeguards
     over his home in the city, rendering those inside vulnerable.
    You are certain of this? Riordan didn’t stop the motion of his hands, but he set the weaves in odd patterns.
    Riley is certain of it, and that’s good enough for me. I catch a faint trail, but
     it isn’t Mitro. Riley says his blood is here, Dax informed the other Carpathian.
    He had taken both Jubal’s and Gary’s memories, but he had not done so with Riordan.
     Memories were sacred to each Carpathian male. Sometimes honor was kept only with memories.
     He felt handicapped by his lack of knowledge of what had transpired in the history
     of his people. Gary had the most knowledge, but he was human and didn’t have the data
     required for centuries of fighting vampires or what information the hunters had on
     them or the tricks they used.
    Riley trembled beneath his fingers, and Dax started a slow massage. Just continue what you’re doing, sivamet . We will find it, this watcher. Can you track the blood without the watcher?
    Her mind moved against his and once again he experienced that strange weakness in
     the vicinity of his heart. She didn’t protest, or fall apart, but kept her hands deep
     in the soil, her head down as if listening intently.
    Yes, I think there have been others, back in the same grove of trees. More than one,
     but a few days ago. The trail is very faint, but if I listen to my blood, the call
     is there.
    Dax continued massaging her neck with one hand, the other down at his side, hand open,
     subtly moving, shifting the wind just slightly, bringing it rushing up from the ravine,
     swirling around the grove of trees and gusting straight to him.
    Second tree from the left. High up in the branches. A rodent. Mitro’s using him the
     way the mages used familiars, he informed Riordan.
    I’ve got him now, Riordan acknowledged, dropping his hands as if he had finished and thought his home
     safe.
    You’ll have to come with us, Dax whispered softly into Riley’s mind. If you don’t, he’ll know we’re onto him. He had to keep reminding himself she wasn’t Carpathian, but she didn’t flinch, although
     she didn’t attempt to hide her silent reluctance.
    She took the hand he extended to her and got up, taking her time dusting off her jeans.
     He knew she was giving herself time to compose and steel herself for whatever was
     to come.
    “I’m ready,” she said aloud, flashing a smile to him and then to Riordan. “Let’s go.
     I’ll do the shopping. Those boys are starving, and I doubt the two of you know much
     about grocery shopping.” She even managed a small laugh at her own joke.
    He tangled his fingers with hers, amazed at her playful tone, not overly loud; in
     fact, he wasn’t certain the watcher could hear her, but it didn’t matter. She acted
     perfectly natural. He quickened his pace without seemingly doing so. Riley fell a
     step behind, but he appeared not to notice, leaning toward Riordan to say something
     in a low voice as they walked down the winding path to get to the vehicle parked in
     the left-side garage nearest that small grove of trees. She tucked in behind him in
     that way he was coming to love, her hand slipping into his back pocket as she matched
     his pace, using his body as a shield.
    It’s tracking your lifemate, Riordan warned. It isn’t looking at either of us, just her.
    Dax was careful not to look at the creature directly, but he’d already seen the beady
     eyes glowing bright through the