Dark Song полностью

Show me where you think this suggestion could have been branded into the brain, Elisabeta, Gary demanded.

Ferro moved closer to protect her. Tariq moved closer to see. Elisabeta again sent her soothing breeze moving around them all, as her healing spirit shone against one tiny spot she was concerned with.

I noticed this little speck, like a hook right here in the same place. It was so tiny and not really black at all. It looks like part of the brain, but . . . Elisabeta trailed off.

Please continue, Gary said. I’m looking at it and I see nothing that would alert me to danger of any kind.

I am most likely wrong.

Ferro felt her instant retreat. Elisabeta was uncomfortable. She didn’t want to continue to speak to the ancient healer. He could feel her begin to withdraw out of the human. She’d removed the red scorching from his brain. She was tired and needed more blood to sustain her.

Elisabeta, please, Tariq pleaded with her. I don’t know how to ask you or explain to you how important this is. I am aware this is difficult for you. You have already put so much effort into saving all of us, and I know we can’t repay you, but I’m asking you to continue to help Ferro and Gary try to figure this puzzle out.

Each time he heard Tariq reach out to someone, Ferro knew why he was the prince’s chosen leader there in the United States. He had a gift. Elisabeta was ready to run and yet he had stopped her, made her feel as if she was needed, appealing to her on the exact level that would make her respond.

Perhaps I phrased that incorrectly, Elisabeta, Gary tried again. I, too, have examined every patient you have examined, so if you missed something, I have as well. What have you noticed that is now raising some concern?

Ferro knew the other ancients tied to him felt the terrible struggle in her. She had gone back to that place of insecurity, yet she braced herself, sliding her spirit up against his in an attempt to find strength and recoup.

I am with you, sívamet, he assured.

It is silly, really. The hook is so tiny, a barb, turning toward the brain and eventually driving into it. Not at once. I have seen it in the lighter scoring with the hook upright, then in more medium stages to one side, but in those that are dark and angry, such as Josef ’s, it is buried. It was the difference that caught my attention when everything else looked the same. I suppose my conclusions are simply fanciful.

Elisabeta sounded somewhat disparaging, and Ferro found himself tightening his arms around her, wishing he could just take her back to their woods where she laughed in a carefree way, with no worries about what others thought of her. He went very still, realizing she wasn’t concerned with how others viewed her for herself. She was his lifemate. He was a legendary warrior of the Carpathian people. She didn’t want them to think less of him because of her.

He had to suppress a groan. Of course she would think that way. Elisabeta put him first. She always would. He would always have to take great care to do the same for her.

Can you show me the images in your mind, Elisabeta? Gary asked and then hastily retracted his query as she retreated even more. Show them to Ferro and he can share them with us.

Elisabeta, Ferro and the others left the human, Elisabeta pale and weak. Ferro immediately turned her face to his bare chest, away from the others, sheltering her so she wouldn’t have to look at them while she fed.

Give me the various images of this strange little hook, piŋe sarnanak. He kept his voice very gentle. Very loving.