He felt her sudden determination. He knew what kind of courage it took for her to answer them, to do what she was doing, defying her captor and leading them through his traps. Others would never know, but he saw into her, knew the horrific details, the cruelties Sergey had put her through over those long centuries.
You do have emotions; they are inside of you. That is why my gift works on you and I can bring you peace for a short while. You cannot tap into those emotions anymore. When you find your lifemate, she provides that pathway and it is once more open to you. That is the simplistic version.
Ferro glanced down at the trees below him. The canopy was covered in those same sticky webs, although these appeared much finer, more fragile, as if they were real spider webs. A Carpathian hunter would not realize they were a deadly, poisonous trap set by master vampires to ensnare him. If he survived the web itself, the vampires would feed on his rich, ancient blood for a long time before the hunter saw death.
How would they know this? They were Carpathian and they lost their emotions. They feel only the rush when they kill or when they hurt others. They can feed off others’ pain, Benedek asked. I know the Malinovs were intelligent, but that seems far too sophisticated for them to figure out. Do you know how they did it?
Ferro already knew the answer. Elisabeta’s compassion for Sergey in the early days had often had her giving him things to contribute that she thought wouldn’t hurt anything or anyone. She was innocent. A child. She had no idea of the depravity or cruelty vampires could conceive.
You were a child, Elisabeta, he reminded. A baby. You had no idea that anything you said to help Sergey when his brothers were shoving him around would result in a poisonous web to capture Carpathian hunters.
And human campers, she added in a small voice. Do not forget them.
We will take this entire trap down, kislány sisar, Petru assured. No one knew that the Malinovs were capable of such horrendous crimes. Their own sister was betrayed, chopped into pieces and strewn across a meadow for the wolves to devour. Instead of hunting the vampires, mage and the weasel of a Carpathian who had conspired against her, they betrayed her even further and turned vampire in some pact, as if that would honor her.
Petru had called Elisabeta “little sister.” He’d struck exactly the right note. Matter-of-fact, not in the least accusing, and giving her a story she couldn’t help but be interested in.
Their poor sister. That’s so awful. I have only vague memories. I cannot hold on to them. She sounded frustrated.
