Because he made her believe a man like him could love her and accept her, even damaged from the trauma of her childhood, she found the strength to hunt for the microbe, to see for herself if either was infected-and only she was. The one inside of her was newly there, and hadn't had time to establish
itself. Her body was still treating it as an intruder. So that meant either the men weren't infected, and Shea's theory was incorrect, or that because she had only recently gotten together with Nicolas, he had passed her the microbe and had not yet been exposed to reinfection.
«You didn't sleep in the soil, Nicolas, You stayed on the bed with me.»
«We need to go talk to Francesca and Gregori about this,» Nicolas said.
She would never feel comfortable around Gregori with his strange-colored eyes, but she nodded. She had to journey into the other pregnant women this evening and hopefully Francesca would be able to follow the faint trail of the killer to aid in removing the microbes from all the other women. And she wanted the one in her out-this rising.
* * *
Lara felt drained when she came out of the healing cave with Nicolas at her side. She had aided two other pregnant women and also led the microbe within her to the surface for Natalya to destroy. They had experimented, taking both Natalya and Francesca along, but Francesca, try as she might, could not detect that faint, tainted path, and something in Natalya served as a warning to the extremophile and it successfully hid its presence from them, ruling out the possibility of Natalya tracking them.
A microbe was found in Mikhail and one in Gregori. Shea was excited that she might actually be on the right track at last to solving the problem of miscarriage. She, Gregori and a man Lara had never met named Gary, retreated together to try to explore ideas on how to combat the microbe.
Nicolas walked through the village with her. She wanted to visit Gerald and check on Terry while he and Vikirnoff finally searched for another entrance to the ice cave.
«I will not be gone long,» he assured.
«And you won't go in without me,» she added, giving him a quick, warning look.
At the bottom of the steps leading to the inn, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. «No, I told you I wouldn't. You look pale, though. If you can manage to get some broth down, do so. If not, Lara, we cannot wait much longer to convert you.»
She moistened her lips. «I have avoidance issues, I think. When I don't want to think about something, I just put it out of my mind and pretend it will go away. I like being mage. I rely on being mage.»
«Mage blood aids in casting and learning, but Carpathian blood does as well. Our two species were intertwined for centuries, Lara. Xavier came up with the safeguards, but in the end Carpathians improved on them. Mages had longevity, so did lycanthrope, but even mortal wounds could sometimes be healed by Carpathians, leading others to believe our species is immortal. But we can be killed.»
She tilted her head, facing her worst fear. «And that's what all the experiments on Razvan are about, aren't they? It's the reason Xavier has kept him alive. He's trying to find a way to kill Carpathians.»
Nicolas held her close to him. «I am afraid of that, yes.»
«Then if there is a chance he's alive, Nicolas, we have to find the evidence in the ice caves. I owe him that.»
He tipped her face up and kissed her gently. «I will only be gone a couple of hours. Stay in the inn with the innkeeper and wait for me.»
Lara nodded and with reluctance, left his side, stepping onto the first stair. Standing there in the dark, she watched him go-a tall, handsome man striding down the walkway, long coat swirling around his legs, his silky hair flying behind him-and her heart hammered out a rhythm of love.
He shimmered, his formidable physique nearly transparent and then he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness. She stood there listening to the night, hearing so many things she hadn't heard before. She saw differently, and the night took on a special beauty. She enjoyed just standing there, drinking it in, the solitude, the peace, with the murmur of life going on behind the scenes.
A few minutes later, Lara pushed open the door to the inn and slipped inside. It was warm and cozy, the open beams giving the inn a sense of space, the fireplace giving the room a homey feel. Slavica, the innkeeper, greeted her with a smile.
«I was hoping to see you. How are you?»
Lara was aware that few villagers were aware of the Carpathian people. Of course there were rumors, old legends whispered around a fire at night, but few modern people believed the old tales. She had heard that Mikhail Dubrinsky and the innkeeper's family went back years, but she didn't want to make the mistake of drawing too much attention to herself. She smiled and nodded. «I wanted to check on my friends. Have they been down at all?»
Slavica shook her head. «I called them to see if they wanted me to bring them food, but they refused, so I've left them alone.»
«Neither, of them has been down to eat? Not even Gerald?» Lara frowned. Both men normally had hearty appetites. «Did Gregori check on them?»
«Early last night, your friend Nicolas came and then much later Gregori stopped by. He knocked, but they were already asleep. He told me he'd be back some time this evening.»
«Did you ask them if they wanted food tonight?»
«Each meal we've asked and they've declined.»
Lara was very uneasy with Slavica's answer. Terry might not feel like having food, but Gerald should be starving. «I'm going to check on them.» She crossed to the stairs and began to climb, Slavica keeping pace.
«Would you like me to go with you?»
Lara bit down on her bottom lip. Her apprehension grew.Nicolas? I'm here at the inn, but when I asked Slavica about Terry and Gerald she said . . . What could she say? They'd refused a couple of meals. It was very possible Gerald would turn down one meal, but three? More than three?
Wait for me. I am not far from you and I will come back.
She felt silly standing at the top of the stairs facing the hall with the innkeeper looking at her as if she
wasn't quite bright.
«What's wrong?» Slavica asked.
«Nothing. I think I forgot my key.» Color rose as she told the ridiculous lie. She rubbed her palm over her left side, down low. The spot burned a little.
«Won't they let you in if you knock?» Slavica asked, moving briskly down the hall toward the door.
Lara dragged her feet. «Maybe I'll wait for Nicolas. He was going to stop by and Terry and Gerald will want to see him.»
Slavica started to turn back toward her, but stopped abruptly, wrinkling her nose. «What is that terrible smell?»
A cold finger of fear raced down Lara's spine. «Slavica, come away from there,» she said softly. Her side burned hotter, that small telltale dragon that warned her when the taint of evil was close. She held out her hand, lowering her voice even more. «Hurry. Right now.»
Slavica reacted to the urgency in her voice, not stopping to ask questions, but hurrying back toward Lara. Lara caught her arm and yanked, an instinctive, primal gesture, nearly throwing the innkeeper onto the top of the stairs. It saved Slavica's life.
The door splintered outward, shooting spears of sharpened wood into the hall where Slavica had been standing. Gerald emerged, his face twisted into a grotesque mask. Blood tracked like tears from his eyes and trickled from his nose and mouth. He tore at his chest with his fingernails, gouging trails of flesh in madness.
Horrified, Lara stepped in front of Slavica. «Get downstairs. Don't let your other guests up here. He's infected.»