Aloud, to steady her, he spoke matter-of-factly. “We knew he would come, beloved. This was the hope. We wanted to draw him to us. I know it is frightening, but all those with the scorching will be watched so that they do not betray us.”
Ferro nodded, his hand moving up to the nape of her neck, a gentle, soothing massage. “Yes, Elisabeta. He has programmed even our ancients to betray us, to open our gates from the inside, but we are aware of this, thanks to you. Tariq has given orders and all who carry the burn marks will be contained.” Deliberately his eyes met Lojos’s.
The ancient immediately understood what Ferro meant and the repercussions. “I have the scorching,” he admitted.
Ferro inclined his head. “That is so. Even had Elisabeta removed the burns, we believe the programming would still be there. That is speculation only. We do not know for certain.”
Lojos turned his attention to Elisabeta. He bowed from the waist, a courtly, elegant gesture from centuries earlier. “Forgive my continued suspicion, Elisabeta. I am from another time, when one questioned everyone and everything. Ferro’s word should have been good enough.” He raised his gaze to the warrior. “What would you have me do?”
“We are weaving a safeguard to hold Josef inside, but we may need your fighting skills,” Ferro admitted. “The healer said the burns were light, so although you are showing signs of having to fight against the tendency for violence, you are winning that battle. You know what you are up against. The warriors at the gate will prevent you from opening them should you try.”
Traian and Joie stood to one side as Ferro walked with a very reluctant Elisabeta out of the house and onto the porch. The safeguards were woven so that Josef, should he manage to break free of the frozen state he was in, could not escape the house.
Ferro could hear him as well. A dark, ugly voice, like nails on a chalk-board, a high-pitched note that scraped at the walls of Elisabeta’s mind, trying to force its way inside. When Sergey could not break through the barrier Ferro had constructed, the vampire became enraged and began throwing himself at the shield, battering at it, desperate to bore his way through. He was so determined that Ferro had a clear image of the vampire’s surroundings and was nearly able to pinpoint his exact location before the creature realized he was throwing such a tantrum he was putting his life in jeopardy and pulled back.
“He is about six miles away,” Ferro reported. “His pawns are close to the gates. We should know if we were right about the programming. At any moment we should see if those with the small specks Elisabeta found will try to walk to the gates to open them.”
As he spoke, Tariq, who had joined Gary after helping Charlotte put his children in a safe room, peeled off from their circle and both began to walk briskly toward the front gates, striding with great purpose. He neither looked left or right. Maksim called out to Tariq but he didn’t look up or miss a step. Ferro waved his hand toward both men, sending out a command to stop them both in their tracks.
It was an impossible question to answer. How would she know the answer? Still, he asked her for two reasons. She needed to concentrate on something other than the terror that was reducing her into a ball of nothing but sheer nerves. She wanted to curl up in the fetal position and disappear. The other was, Elisabeta really did know Sergey better than anyone else, probably better than he knew himself. If anyone could anticipate his every move, she could. She might actually guess the right answer.
Her moan was her only response. He caught her thick braid at the nape of her neck.
He poured command into his voice. She understood and responded to absolute authority, and he gave that to her. He felt her stiffen. Snap to attention. Her mind, chaotic and fearful, cleared. Became once more sharper thinking. Intelligent.
