“You know about the gate I guard. That’s why you have the tarotcards. There are four gates, and a Carpathian woman guards each of them. You have the ability to keep demons from escaping the underworld, and together the two of us have kept that gate intact.”
Silke had been to the gate on several occasions to ensure no demon had found a way through. Time and again, she’d sealed the ground around the gate. Lately, she knew Tora was concerned that whatever was behind the gate was weakening the ancient wood and the spells. She’d never seen whatever was being held there. Tora referred to him as a beast.
Another Carpathian woman, Gaia, lived in the underworld and seemed to be Tora’s friend, but Silke had never seen her. She knew the area the beast had at his command was tremendous, stretching from Siberia, Italy and Algeria around to their little village. The beast and his companion seemed to travel from gate to gate. Silke didn’t understand how he could be so dangerous if a Carpathian woman was his companion.
“It’s difficult for all of us guarding the gates to comprehend just how lethal the beast is. His name is Justice—at least that’s what he was called when he chose to save members of his family and remain behind in the underworld. He fought off the demons while his family escaped. All of them were horribly wounded, as was Justice. He blocked the portal and shut it down so the demons couldn’t go after his family, thus trapping himself in the underworld.”
“He sounds like a hero, not a beast,” Silke said.
Sorrow flashed across Tora’s face. “He is a hero. He was the thing legends were made of, even in my world. Justice was Carpathian at one time.”
“I don’t understand. Is he vampire? Did he turn while he was trapped in the underworld? How could your friend stay with him?”
Tora shook her head. “Justice isn’t vampire. Our species can live very long lives. Some believe we’re immortal, but we can be killed as you well know.”
Silke had seen Tora after several battles with vampires. She’d beenclose to death on two of those occasions. Silke had managed to aid her in dispatching the vampires before attending to the wounds and giving her friend blood. Several times over the years they had gone into battle together and prevailed, but their wounds had been numerous.
“Centuries of a gray, emotionless existence, when life has been nothing but hunting and killing your friends, family, and other Carpathians who turned vampire, seeing the horrific things vampires did to their victims, takes a tremendous toll.”
Silke imagined that the life of the Carpathian male was grim and endless. She was surrounded by people in the village she loved. She was an orphan, but she’d always been cared for. She had Tora as well as the elders in the village who were generous with their time, attention and advice. Fenja Reinders, a single woman in the village, had always wanted children. She had taken Silke in when her mother died. She was the local midwife, assisting women giving birth, and had been present when Astrid slipped away. The village had decided she would be the best choice for raising the orphaned infant, and she’d readily accepted the task.
Silke loved her as she would have her birth mother. Fenja had raised her with kindness and love. She couldn’t remember a single time when Fenja had yelled or lost her temper. She had lovingly told her the stories of the Battle of Baduhenna, making the stories exciting and every hero or heroine larger than life. She’d taken Silke to the forest and introduced her to the plants and trees, carefully and patiently teaching her which were poisonous, edible or could be used for medicine. She’d taken Tora into her heart and given the girls plenty of time to train in the skills Silke needed as the demon slayer.
“I can’t imagine what kind of life those men have led.” Silke’s heart ached for the warriors. In modern times, the story of Carpathian males hunting vampires and sustaining near-fatal wounds, yet going back over and over again to do the same thing, should have been more like a grim fairy tale, but Silke had always considered those stories reality. Perhaps it was the way both Fenja and Tora regaled her with tales of the past so often that those stories became believable to her.
Tora sighed, glancing upward toward the sky again. The clouds had drifted closer, no longer out over the sea but nearly directly above the forest. Now, rather than angry, dark and boiling, the shapes were intact and the color various shades of charcoal.
“They’re back,” Silke announced.
“They’re so predictable,” Tora said. “You called it when you said they hadn’t left. Do they think we’re going to fall for their tricks and reveal ourselves to them?”
“Tora, whoever creates the storms had to have been like you at one time. Why would they be in the underworld?”
“A vampire was a Carpathian,” Tora reminded. “Once destroyed, they very well could be trapped in the underworld and subject to Lilith’s bidding. She’s a cruel and exacting mistress, from everything I’ve been told. There have been three battles with her armies. She used vampires and mages to aid her demons.”
“This beast you guard, could he be the one building the storms for them? Would he have that kind of power?”
Again, the look of anxiety crossed Tora’s face. “The reason he’s locked behind the gates is because even Lilith fears him. She wants to find a way to control him, as do other factions. That’s why you need to guard the tarot cards so carefully. Like the soul you’re keeping safe, the cards must be kept safe and away from others as well.”
Silke took her gaze from the clouds gathering over the forest to study Tora’s expression. Tora was an absolutely beautiful woman. Her skin was flawless. Her hair was dark, thick and shiny. Her eyes were shaped like a cat’s and colored a deep emerald green. Every man that met her, young or old, was enamored with her, and it was easy to see why. Not only was she beautiful, but she had a mesmerizing quality to her. Just being in her presence was soothing.
“Tora, clearly you’re worried about my reaction to whatever it is you’re holding back.”
Tora rubbed along the bottom of her chin with her closed fist. It was one of the few things she did when nervous. To others, she wouldnever give that telling sign away, but she knew she was safe with Silke, even if she had withheld something important.
Silke didn’t hold grudges. Not ever. She sometimes got even, as she had when two young boys tried to push her around in school when she was eleven. That hadn’t ended well for them. When one tried to push her so the other could steal her lunch, she beat them up right there in the schoolyard. She told them that until they apologized, bad things would happen to them. It only took three days of insects crawling all over their bedrooms, clothes and toys before they gave her the apology. After they apologized, she brought them fruits and baked goods often because Fenja had told her the boys didn’t have a lot in the way of food. Their father had gone on a fishing trip and never returned. Their mother struggled to make ends meet. That was one of the first times that she realized that although the village was filled with happy people, some struggled.
“It’s your lifemate—I know he’s one of the ancients.” Tora made it sound as if she were confessing a great sin.
Silke frowned, trying to comprehend her meaning. Obviously, that revelation was supposed to be significant. She shifted her gaze to the clouds when she felt the buildup of energy. “They’re going to rain lightning on us in an attempt to penetrate the veil you are protecting the forest with.”
Tora gripped her arm. “Honey, did you hear what I said?”
“I figured out that if I was guardian to a soul, he would have to be a Carpathian warrior living the kind of horrible life you told me about. This doesn’t come as a shock.”
Again, Tora rubbed her arms as if cold. “Your lifemate is one of theveryancient Carpathians. There were a few who held out far longer than others. They became…more. From everything the others guarding the gates told me, these ancients have much battle experience and powerful gifts developed over two thousand years of going into battle. In that time, they made numerous kills. Even when one doesn’t feel, killing takes a toll. Living in that endless void takes a toll.”
Silke was trying to understand what Tora was not telling her. “But they haven’t chosen to suicide, and they didn’t choose to become vampire. It seems they are extremely strong. Isn’t that a good thing?”
