Free Dark Descent by Christine Feehan Page B

across them. I knew they were desperate to find something in that cave. Although it was risky to pit myself against so many, it was my duty to my people to stay and discover what they were looking for. Even after you found me and I recognized who you were, I stayed because the vampires were so frantic to find something. I had no idea this was a cave of wizards.”
    “And what is the significance of wizards to a vampire? I know what it would be to humans. Most of us don’t actually believe the fairy tales about wizards and crystal balls. And dragons. That was very cool, by the way.”
    “You saw the spheres in that room. Ancient spells and power remain in them. We don’t want vampires, or anyone, for that matter, to get their hands on things best left alone. Carpathians are of the Earth. We have gifts, but we do not wield power in the same way as the wizards did.”
    “Is it possible some are still alive?”
    “I would think It likely. At least I would think some of their descendants remain and have retained their knowledge, or at least a portion of it.”
    Joie sighed. “Lovely thought. Anyone who created that shadow warrior is not going to be counted among my best friends.”
    “Nor mine.”
    Joie followed him through the long hall, not looking at the beauty and magnificence of her surroundings as she normally would. She turned the information over in her mind. “You grew up a long time ago.”
    He grinned at her, his teeth flashing in the light of her lantern. “Well, yes. I have lived for centuries. I barely remember my parents anymore.” His smile slipped away. “The memory of my childhood days has faded. I catch glimpses at times. I do recall the years just before leaving my homeland. The way the prince looked at us all. I saw it in his eyes. His own death, the decline of our people, his dread for all of the warriors he was sending away from home. Our women were so few, even then the numbers were declining. Back then we had alliances with humans. Now we keep to ourselves and just do our best to blend in.”
    She listened to the sound of his voice and heard the sorrow that ran deep. In his mind she saw the battles, sometimes with childhood friends. Saw his inner demons, the insidious whispers of power, the dark stain that slowly spread over him, calling to him. And he was always alone. In every memory, he was always alone. Joie wanted to comfort him. She caught his hand, tangled her fingers with his. She meant it to be a brief gesture, but he tightened his grip.
    “I grew up very differently,” she said, ducking her head to avoid a large crystal formation. “My family is very close and very loving. We all talk at the same time and give each other all sorts of unwanted advice. My dad tells outrageous stories. He used to sneak into our bedroom at night with a flashlight shining on his face and tell scary stories until we screamed and laughed and Mom came running in to chastise him. We all knew she knew he was doing it, and she was really laughing, too. Once, after he read us Stephen King’s Cujo, he put whipped cream on the muzzle of our huge mutt and shoved him into the bedroom. It’s a wonder we all survived his sense of humor.”
    She laughed at the memory, deliberately sharing with Traian the warmth of her childhood, the love in her family. “We’re all a little bit crazy, but it’s okay with us.”
    “Do you think I will fit in?” He brought her hand to his chest and held it against his heart. “I would not mind having a family after all this time.”
    He was a tall man with wide shoulders and eyes that had seen far too much, yet the lost note in his voice turned her heart over. Joie smiled at him. “I can’t wait for you to meet my mother.”
    Chapter Seven
    The night air was crisp and clean and so fresh, Joie gratefully dragged it deep into her lungs. Fear was dissipating now that she was out in the open. She pulled her helmet from her head to allow the wind to comb through her hair.