Dark Memory – Dark Carpathians Read Online Christine Feehan

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 141492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 707(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
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He groaned, continuing toward the harbor, already slipping carefully into Safia’s mind. He had to use a delicate touch. If she was fighting off the demon, he couldn’t distract her, but he couldn’t waste one more moment wondering if she was hurt or about to be. He wasn’t about to leave his lifemate unguarded. He didn’t care how well trained she was or if his brethren thought he was out of his mind. She was his woman, and his code of honor demanded he protect her.

She moved through the water without a sound, and she didn’t seem to displace the water itself. There was a slight ripple as waves moved with the breeze stirring on the surface. Fortunately, the draft was moving in the direction she wanted to go, so as the current gently carried the water, it carried her along as well. She swam fast, propelling herself with speed, like a little rocket, and still she seemed a part of that underwater current.

Petru found a little spot in her mind to adhere to as he slipped beneath the water right behind her. Izem followed her, but there was no way for him to see Petru when the ancient Carpathian didn’t want to be seen or felt. He was a phantom, as were his companions.

Tomas and Lojos had broken off from the rest of them and gone to feed. The two had been given the task to take enough blood to share with the others if it became necessary after the battle with the sea centipede. They might give Petru all kinds of advice, but they would follow him into the deepest recesses of the underworld, face the worst of the master vampires, and never, under any circumstances, leave his lifemate unprotected.

Like Petru, they were little more than molecules in the water, impossible to detect. They weren’t in Safia’s mind, but they had taken care to stay close to her brother, aware of the two sea centipedes swimming against the current on the surface of the water, heading his way. Unlike Safia, who hid her presence, Izem wasn’t as adept in the water.

Petru was very aware of Izem drawing the two demons closer to his lifemate. It wasn’t that her brother was clumsy; he swam with great proficiency. He moved like he was part of the sea, but he still disturbed the water, alerting the creatures to his presence. Petru stayed very still in her mind as she processed calculations so fast. Her brain was fascinating, never resting.

Someone named Aabis had his ships sabotaged three days earlier. She was determining how large the first demon to come through had been able to grow in three days’ time. The ones coming through the second day, if any—which she doubted, as no fishing boats had been harmed—and any that might have come through this day. The small holes cut in the fishing boats indicated to her that at least two of the demons had come through that morning and cut the circles in the vessels with their claws, not only to do mischief but to sharpen them.

As the information raced through her mind, Petru realized she knew her brother would draw the sea centipedes to them. She counted on it. She had a plan, and Izem was fully aware of it. He was the bait just as if he were a fish on a hook. Petru touched her brother’s mind. The man was just as cool as she was. He seemed to have complete faith in his sister.

There was so much to admire about these people. Petru had stayed away from humans for the better part of his life. He hunted vampires. Lately, demons had been added to the evil he destroyed. He was often the general running the war, but he was direct when he killed. He’d been alive far too long, far beyond even what was considered ancient for his kind. There was danger in living so long. Making kills long after there was nothing at all, not even the whisper of temptation to take a life while feeding just to feel a rush.

The rush came now with every battle he participated in. A kind of euphoria. A berserker’s ice turning to blue flames that raced through veins and burned in the belly. Feeling. Something. Those smoldering flames left behind scars that were permanent in their souls. In their hearts and minds. They weren’t the tatters a lifemate could mend. These were scars so deep inside, never meant to be. Rough, blackened and developed over time with battle after battle and kill after kill until they knew it was far too dangerous to even keep hunting vampires.

In an effort to keep their code of honor for their lifemates, the ancients—Petru included—had retreated behind monastery walls for over two hundred years. In other words, Petru had lived far longer than he should have. The danger to those around him, even his brethren, was extremely high should he give in and lose what remained of his soul. He had more need of his lifemate than most.


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