Natalya sank back onto her heels as she knelt staring at the jewel-embedded ceremonial knife. It lay on a small piece of cloth between them. The blade was slightly curved and the handle ornate. Instead of looking deadly, the knife seemed an object of priceless art.

"The knife looks so harmless, doesn't it?" Natalya asked. "And yet looks can be deceptive. It's been used countless times to murder." Her hand hovered over the blade and trembled. Natalya pulled back.

The sun had set and both she and Vikirnoff had bathed in the hot spring water after making love. It had been difficult for her to avoid taking his blood. She craved it more than ever, as if he were a drug she was addicted to and now, with the knowledge that Razvan was still alive, the idea of becoming a Carpathian held both comfort and promise. They were both dressed in the clothes Vikirnoff had fashioned for them. Now, there was only one last task that stood in her way; touching this knife, accessing the violent memories that clung to the ceremonial weapon.

"I have fed and I am here as your anchor to hold you to this world and this time." He stroked a long caress over her hair. "The safeguards are in place and my duty to Gabrielle has been done. Falcon has given her the second blood exchange and we have all answered the call to heal her. This is our time, Natalya. Find out what memories the knife holds and hopefully we will have a clue to where the book is hidden. Once we retrieve it we can take the book to a safe place where it can be destroyed or guarded adequately."

Natalya took a deep breath and let it out. "Reading the knife will not be easy, Vikirnoff. We will live the memories of those that died on its blade."

His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder, fingers massaging gently. "I know this is difficult for you. If I could, I would do it for you."

She sat there with the candles flickering all around her and the knife in front of her. The sound of the water lapping at the edges of the pool soothed her and Vikirnoff's presence made her feel protected. She had "read" objects hundreds of times, yet she was reluctant to relive the death of her grandmother and worse, the murder of her father, even with Vikirnoff there to aid her. "You believe I can do this."

"I know that you can."

"Before I do, I want you to know I'm not mad at you anymore."

His eyebrow shot up. "Were you angry with me?"

She scowled at him. "Yes, I was angry with you. Sheesh! You didn't even notice?"

"We made love a dozen times, more even. You bit me a few times and there are scratches on my back, but I enjoyed you putting the marks there."

"That's because you're a pervert. And I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your ridiculous and totally arbitrary decision to bind us together."

"Natalya?"

"What?"

"You sound angry."

"Well, of course I'm angry. You didn't even notice that I was angry in the first place. Do you realize how upsetting that is? All this time I thought you were suffering because I was mad at you, but you didn't even notice."

"I am sorry. I should have been more observant."

"You don't sound sorry." She ran her fingertips around the knife and held her palm above the blade testing the strength of the vibrations of violence. "In all honesty, Vikirnoff, I really don't want to do this."

"I know. And I understand. No one wants to relive the torture and murder of their parents or grandmother."

Vikirnoff knelt behind her, knowing she was working up her courage, chattering to cover her hesitation. "I will take the journey with you. When memories become too much to bear, I will do what I can to lessen the pain."

"What if you're trapped there with me and we can't pull out until every kill has been reenacted? It was your strength that allowed me to get away from the past."

His arms enfolded her, his hands sliding down her arms to envelop her hands in his. "You feel the violence of the knife's past without touching."

Natalya leaned against his chest, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. "Yes, but I'm not reading the memories."

"I want to hold the knife in my hand with your hands around mine, so that your fingers brush the knife, but limiting your physical contact with it. Perhaps that will minimize the risk to you."

Natalya took a breath and let it out, trying to still her chaotic mind. She'd rather battle ten vampires than read what the knife offered, but all the wishing in the world wasn't going to change what had to be done. "Let's try it, then, Vikirnoff, but if you feel that you can't get

us out, drop the knife."

"I will."

His breath was warm and comforting on the back of her head as she bent forward again, allowing her to feel his presence without distracting her. She laid her hand over his and nodded to let him know she was ready.

Vikirnoff reached for the knife. She felt her own heart beating, strong and steady, beginning to accelerate. Her muscles began to knot painfully.

I am with you.

She felt him, strong and solid behind her, his arms around her, there for her. With her¨C and that meant everything. She drew courage from his presence and her fingers brushed the handle of the knife. Instantly she felt the curving of time, the wrenching pull that dragged her into the past and deeper into the violent memories the knife contained.

The concentrated fear of so many victims rushed toward her, surrounded her and invaded her mind and soul. Immediately she focused on the feel of Vikirnoff's hand, the shape and size of it, the warmth of his skin. The mounting terror lessened enough for her to slide past, reaching for the reenactment she needed. There seemed to be so many souls wailing with grief and crying for justice. She knew whatever the knife needed to show her had to have occurred farther in the past before her father's death. He had to have hidden the book and spilled blood on the knife.

My father wouldn't have sacrificed someone to leave behind the information. The reenactment would be much fainter than the ones with more violence. That would explain how I missed it the first time.

Slow down. You are moving so fast I cannot catch even glimpses of what has occurred.

I feel the level of violence and know it is not what I want and I don't want to know what else Xavier has done or whom he killed... Her voice trailed off and she halted abruptly to find herself in the crystal cave. She looked around her carefully.

What is it?

Razvan. I feel him. His presence is strong in this time period.

Vikirnoff inhaled sharply, wanting to tighten his arms protectively around Natalya and order her out of there. How long ago was this?

I can't tell. Recently, I think. I haven't felt the presence of my father yet.

Vikirnoff's instincts shrieked at him. This is unnecessary. You do not need to witness any violence Razvan commits. Keep moving, Natalya.

She wanted to see her brother. She wanted to witness with her own eyes his betrayal. It seemed the only way to make herself believe that he had gone over to the side of the vampires, to Xavier, was to see the extent of his betrayal. Stubbornly she watched as her brother sauntered into the ice chamber. He carried the ceremonial knife in his hand and his eyes were glittering with some fierce emotion.

You cannot. Vikirnoff inserted a mild push into his voice, not wanting to take command of her, but the taste in his mouth was bitter with warning. Razvan looked far too much like Xavier in his youth; a madman bent on accumulating power over others. Xavier had grown in power and stature very quickly with his natural talent and he became convinced that he was destined to rule the world. The corruption of a once-great sorcerer was complete when he discovered the rush of power the taking of life gave him. Furious that the Carpathian race seemed to be immortal, something he was not, he grew to despise them with a fanatical hatred that fed his own ego and determination to stamp them out once he had gained the secrets of their blood. Razvan wore that same, smug, contempt-filled expression.

The ice chamber was the same, yet not the same. Fewer orbs lit the cavern and the ice formations were less abundant. On the far wall, the dragons were frozen in time, encased behind layers of ice.

They weren't there before. Natalya read his mind. They are now in the hall leading to the main chamber, remember? Something terrible will happen here.

Vikirnoff felt Natalya's heart pounding through her body, in her veins, threatening to burst, as Razvan turned and beckoned someone toward him. A young girl emerged from the shadows, a child really, forced forward by compulsion. The girl had bright green eyes and a wealth of copper curls. She shook her head as Razvan caught her arm, jerking her closer to him.

Don't! Natalya tried to pry her fingers from the knife, but something much stronger than her will held her there, mesmerized. He wants her blood. He's taking her blood. She winced as the ceremonial knife slashed across the little wrist and Razvan pressed the open vein to his mouth. He's seeking immortality just the way Xavier did. That poor child.

Vikirnoff felt sick, wanting to close his eyes against the abomination that Razvan had become. The child looked very much like Natalya must have looked as a child, yet Razvan had no feeling for her. Her use to him was that of a blood bank. He wanted to stay young. He had children for the sole purpose of finding the ones with the necessary gene to carry the bloodline he needed.

How old would she be now if she had managed to stay alive? Natalya whispered it in her mind, desperately needing the connection with Vikirnoff.

This time period cannot be long ago. Maybe fifteen years, twenty at the most. She cannot be more than twenty-five or thirty now.

He has a daughter named Colby. I met her a couple of months ago. She didn't have any memories like this. Natalya drew in a shuddering breath. She must not have had the right blood for him to want to use her this way.

I met her, too. She was very lucky, Vikirnoff said.

But don't you see? He is still impregnating women. If he has turned into a vampire, how could he do that? Colby was younger than this child would be now. How can this be? Have you ever heard of a vampire having a child? Yet look at her. Her eyes have changed color, her hair as well; she is of our family blood.

I have never heard of a vampire who did not kill his victims, women or children. I certainly have never heard of any capable of having a child. And what of the blood? Razvan's blood cannot be infected with the microorganisms or his children would be infected. Did Colby have parasites in her blood?

Colby had no such parasites in her blood. Vikirnoff frowned as he watched Razvan's careless disregard for the child. He didn't seem to be aware of her as a human being, a person in her own right. He didn't take her blood with care or respect, but treated her as human cattle. It sickened Vikirnoff to watch the child struggle to get free. There was determination on her face. She reminded him of Natalya, that same fierce iron will. I am willing to bet she is still alive. Even at her age, she is thinking of how to escape. See how she grows quiet, her gaze moving through the room? I believe she has your natural talent with spells.

Natalya stiffened. That is Xavier. She whispered the revelation telepathically, even though she was in his mind and no one could hear.

An older man came out of a chamber, his robes rustling as he moved. His features were indistinct, blurring as he shuffled across the ice floor, but Vikirnoff had the impression of great age and snow-white hair and beard. A wrinkled hand stretched toward the child. She shrank away from the older man and Razvan jerked her out of the dark mage's reach.

"You will not touch her." Razvan snarled. "You have your own supply."

"I can no longer use them as you well know. They have become far too powerful to control. I need the book. We must find the book." Xavier stumbled closer to the child, his clawlike fingers extended toward her. "Once I have the book, they will not be able to defy me."

Razvan held the girl just out of reach, an evil smile on his face. "This one is mine and you will not touch her."

"Do not presume to give me orders. I grow old, but I still have my abilities and you do not." Xavier drew himself up to his full height, and immediately Razvan seemed to shrink before him, but he still kept the child shielded behind him.

Look at her, what she is doing. Vikirnoff nudged Natalya with his chin.

Natalya tore her horrified gaze from her brother to glance at the young girl. She bent her head and licked at the wound on her wrist. Immediately the drops of blood ceased. She has a healing agent in her saliva. She carries a strong Carpathian gene.

That is why they both want her blood. They are using her to keep them young. Razvan does not want to share her.

Memories rushed over Natalya. Razvan rocking back and forth, struggling to hold back tears, his wrist raggedly torn. How had she forgotten? She had been the one to heal the wound, using her own saliva. It had taken Xavier a long time before he realized Razvan's blood did him no good other than to feed. The dark mage had begun to age and that had sent him into wild rages.

She felt tears on her face and for an instant was aware of her own body, far from the time where her spirit watched unclean events unfolding. Razvan knew what it was like to be subjected to such a horrific life, yet he held the young girl prisoner to feed off of her.

Revolted, Natalya turned her attention back to the child. Razvan and Xavier began arguing. Razvan no longer paid attention, releasing his hold on the girl when she ceased struggling. She inched closer to the wall where the dragons were encased in ice. Vikirnoff? Are they alive? Are the dragons talking to her? Can you tell?

The child's head was tilted toward the dragons as if listening. Vikirnoff found he was holding his breath. The wall around the dragons began to bulge, the ice fragmenting in great chunks.

"Stop them!" Xavier leapt back away from the splintering ice as he yelled the warning.

A bright red dragon burst through the ice, great claws stretched toward Razvan as a second blue-colored dragon bent its wing to the young girl. The child didn't hesitate, but jumped agilely onto the wing and climbed to its back as the dragon took to the air, rising sharply toward the surface while the first dragon held Xavier and Razvan at bay. It was easy to see both dragons were weak and pale, very sick; their movements, after the initial attack, lacked power.

Razvan lifted the knife and sliding quickly between the claws, plunged the blade deep into the chest of the red dragon. It screamed in pain, as did the one carrying the child. Valiantly, the flying blue dragon deposited the little girl far above the chamber where she had a chance to escape, before turning back to join her wounded comrade.

Xavier stepped forward and held up one hand, his voice commanding. The red dragon ceased thrashing to lie still, panting loudly, precious blood draining onto the ice. The blue dragon settled beside it, nuzzling the injured dragon with its long neck and tongue in an effort to save it.

We must go. There was urgency in Vikirnoff's voice. We have little time. Part of him was still scanning in real time, and he felt the tear in the night sky even from deep within the cave as evil passed directly over their shelter.

The events unfolding before Natalya had happened years ago. The bodies of the dragons were now encased in the great hall behind several feet of thick ice. Natalya already knew the price they paid for saving the little girl. As for the child, she could only hope the girl had successfully made her escape and was hidden somewhere in the world, safe from Razvan and Xavier. Unfortunately, there was no way to change history. She could only watch it unfolding before her and hope the dragons had bought the child enough time to escape. Natalya had no choice but to move backward to find the time when her father had hidden the book.

She allowed the vision to end and actively began to search for a sign of her father. There was so much blood, so many deaths she began to feel nauseated.

The small vignette Vikirnoff had witnessed between Razvan and Xavier led him to believe that the two men, although in league with one another, were in a power struggle. Razvan couldn't hope to defeat Xavier with mage skills-unless he had Natalya. It was suddenly very clear to Vikirnoff. Natalya had the natural talent and she was highly intelligent. Instead of developing his own talents, Razvan had relied on Natalya throughout their childhood and early adulthood. Xavier had bought into the deception, thinking he had the twin with the natural skills.

Where does Razvan's skill lie? Natalya's twin may have been lazy in some regard, but he had to possess the same keen intelligence as his sister.

There was a small silence. Vikirnoff felt her hesitation. In the planning of battles.

Something inside Vikirnoff shifted. Of course it had to be Razvan. Xavier and his grandson had joined forces with the vampires, had actually managed to unite an apparently large group of them in spite of their perpetual self-interest. The Malinov brothers were a huge boon to them. The brothers had already conspired to destroy the prince and finding Xavier with his talents and hatred of the Carpathians to match their own, must have seemed providence to them. Xavier would have kept Razvan around only if he was useful. And he had to be extremely useful.

If Razvan held talents as a planner of battles, as extraordinary as his twin was in other areas, then the Carpathian people could very well be in trouble. The vampires had been harassing the prince and his hunters, continually weakening them with small battles, while sacrificing only pawns.

I feel the pull of my father. There is much more violence associated with this than I expected.

Vikirnoff heard the wariness in her voice and his heart went out to her. I am with you,

Natalya. You are no longer alone. What was done happened years ago and there is no changing the past. Try to view whatever happens from a distance if at all possible. How could she view the torture and murder of her parents from a distance? He desperately wanted to spare her what was to come and he felt helpless to prevent her pain.

Natalya allowed his nearness to help comfort her as she reached for the events of the past. Her father came into view, striding through carnivorous plants, shrubs and trees while the ground trembled beneath his feet. The surrounding water, the color of dried blood, marked the area as a bog. She frowned, trying to recognize landmarks. He carried a package wrapped in oilskins and was obviously wary, continuously looking over his shoulder and scanning the area around him.

He isn't carrying the ceremonial knife. For some reason that alarmed her more than the darkened skies and flicker of lightning at the edges of the overhead clouds. She found herself straining to see through the foliage around her father. It was so dark, the heavy clouds blocked any moonlight.

Yes, he has it in his belt, Natalya. He also carried a small bag that looked as if some live creature wiggled inside of it. Distaste was strong in Vikirnoff's mouth.

Natalya let her breath out slowly. Her father moved with such confidence she almost missed the fact that there was a pattern to his steps. The bogs held sink holes, the surface treacherous to those who didn't know their way through.

I have to start again.

Vikirnoff remained silent, as careful as Natalya to mark the way through the bog. If they were to recover the book, they would need to know their way through the spongelike marsh. His own heart tried to regulate the pounding of his lifemate's. Together they etched out the pattern of steps used to gain the middle of the most wild and overgrown part of the bog. Her father knelt carefully and pushed the book deep into the stained waters, watching it sink slowly beneath the surface. All the while his lips moved as he murmured something softly and his hands wove a graceful pattern in the air.

Could you see his safeguards, Natalya? Vikirnoff had caught some of the spell, but it was unfamiliar to him.

Yes. The weave is complicated, but given time, I can unravel the spell. His unspoken safeguard adds to the strength and complexity. I should be able to reverse the pattern and bring the book to the surface. I just don't know if anyone wants such a heavy responsibility. I doubt the book can be destroyed easily.

If you found it, others will be able to find it as well.

We can destroy the knife. Natalya watched as her father got to his feet and began the arduous journey through the large peat bog back to solid ground. He walked as if a great

weight had been lifted from his shoulders. As he neared the very edges where the sphagnum moss grew the thickest, she saw movement in the surrounding bushes. The leaves swayed and dark shadows glided from one shrub to another. Her father continued his journey, moving into the meadows, turning toward the nearest village.

He came to a halt and pulled a squirming rabbit from the bag. She knew he had brought the animal as a sacrifice and she couldn't look at Vikirnoff. She felt his disgust. She could see the dark shapes in the bushes directly behind her father. The urge to call out, to warn him was overwhelming.

The dark shape leapt on him, wrestling the ceremonial knife from his hand and slashing it across her father's calves. It wasn't Xavier, but several of his minions, sent to bring her father back to the ice caves. He went down hard, the tendons cut so it was impossible to walk. Without preamble, the largest one lifted him and, ignoring his cries of pain, began to carry him back toward the mountain.

Drop it now. Vikirnoff ordered, giving a hard "push" as he did so. His hands were already loosening around the handle. She did not need to see what her father had been subjected to as Xavier tried to get the whereabouts of the book from him. It was only good fortune that the dark mage's henchmen had not seen Natalya's father coming from the bog itself, but rather circling the outskirts of it.

Natalya found her fingers obeying even when her mind tried to cling to the sight of her father. The knife slipped from her hand and Vikirnoff allowed the weapon to drop to the floor. "Destroy it," she said. "I don't care how you do it, just please get rid of it."

He wrapped her up in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth. "I will be happy to rid the world of it, Natalya, but we cannot take chances with the book. Xavier must have questioned his servants closely and he knows the area where they found your father. He must suspect the book is hidden somewhere in that region."

"Not necessarily. He may not know when my father actually hid the book. It may have been weeks earlier. He may have thought my father gave the book to your prince." She laid her head back against his shoulder, grateful for the solid feel of him. Vikirnoff had somehow gone from enemy to her solid foundation. It had happened without her even being aware of it. Was it the binding words she railed so hard against? Or was it always sharing his mind and knowing his thoughts so intimately? Her hand slipped into his. "Without you, I would feel so alone."

His heart gave that funny little lurch that bothered him so much. Natalya was a fighter, a woman of tremendous courage and Razvan's betrayal was breaking not only her heart, but her spirit. Vikirnoff found it was the last thing he wanted. He had grown fond of his tigress and her astonishing smart mouth. He didn't want her broken and bruised or so vulnerable even when she was turning to him for comfort.

He caught her chin and drew her head around so he could find her mouth with his,

kissing her long and making a thorough job of it. When her eyes had gone opaque with desire and she was matching his hunger, he pulled away abruptly. "I'm so pleased you finally see that I was right all along."

She blinked, drawing a little away from him, wariness creeping into her expression. "Right? About what?"

"The ritual binding words of course. It was a good thing I said them and tied us together. With your stubbornness we probably would still be dancing around one another."

"My stubbornness?" Her green eyes glittered at him. "I think you invented the word." She pushed a hand through her tawny hair, sweeping it off her face to glare at him. "In fact, if you look up the word 'stubborn' in the dictionary, your picture is right there as the definition."

Vikirnoff thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He wrapped the ceremonial knife in a white cloth and tucked it inside his shirt, out of her sight. "You still have not wanted to admit it was the best thing I could have done for both of us."

She scrambled to her feet, sliding weapons into the loops on her pants. "And it will be a cold day in hell before I ever do. I don't think bringing that up is in your best interest, but thank you for trying to distract me." She blew him a kiss. "I don't really rise that easily to bait."

"Sure you do. You cheated. You were lurking in my mind."

"I wanted to see what you really thought about just leaving the book where it is. I have reservations about turning it over to your prince." She thrust the pair of Amis sticks into the loops on her belt. "I'm not certain it would be entirely safe with him."

"Because Razvan is plotting to kill him."

She winced but nodded as she strapped on her twin holsters. "Razvan's very good at what he does, and quite frankly, with the vampires, Xavier and Razvan against him, I don't think your prince is up to it."

Vikirnoff watched as she slid extra clips into several compartments of her pants. He was very aware she was pleased with his creation, nearly matching her original design, but improving slightly so she could move easier and reach whatever she needed quickly. "Mikhail will not be defeated by any of them."

"How do you know that? You don't even know him. I searched your mind for memories of him, but he was not fully grown when you left these lands. How do you know his strength? Why do you even trust him? That book is more dangerous than you can know and no Carpathian prince will easily destroy it, nor can he hope to wield its power. Once the book is in his hands, they will send everything and everyone they have after him. You'll be condemning him to death."

"Mikhail Dubrinsky will not be defeated by those who seek his death. He is extremely powerful, Natalya. It is in his blood, bred into his very genes, his bone and spirit and veins. He can be wounded, yes, but when push comes to shove, he can unleash a power greater than Xavier imagines. Mikhail will find a way to destroy the book and in the meantime, he will protect it."

She turned to face him, staying partly in the shadows to hide her expression. "What if I don't want to turn the book over to him, Vikirnoff? You never asked me how I felt about it. You assumed I'd be willing, but I am not someone to follow so easily."

Vikirnoff studied every nuance of her tone, for the first time uncertain if she was challenging him to make a point, or if she really meant it. Her mind was closed to him, and, although he could breach the barrier she had erected, it seemed an insult when she dearly wanted her privacy.

Of course they had to turn the book over to the prince. What else would they do with it? He paced away from her, knowing she would read his agitation, but he didn't care. "What would you want to do with the book?" He made every effort to keep his tone flat, without any inflection whatsoever.

Natalya shrugged. "I haven't decided yet, but I'm not about to be railroaded into something I'm not certain is the right thing to do. The book is enormously powerful. It contains thousands of spells, magick so complicated and so dangerous that I don't think any but a mage should ever possess it."

Vikirnoff stiffened. "You would use this book?" His gut churned with protest and his lungs began to burn for air.

Her eyes took on a faint amber glow. Bands of light streaked across her face and hair as she shifted closer to the candlelight, reaching for the long sword in its scabbard against the wall of the cavern. At once she was far more difficult to see, blending into the shadows.

"If I chose to use the book it would be my business, Vikirnoff. You cannot dictate to me that I must retrieve this book and then turn it over to someone I don't know, I don't trust and I don't respect."

Vikirnoff remained silent, forcing back his first response. She knew very little about his people and it was true, he had arbitrarily decided for her what she should do with the book once she had recovered it. And he was pushing her to recover it. Natalya was not a woman to be forced into anything. Right now she felt cornered and she was fighting back. "Have I earned your respect?"

Her amber eyes glittered, taking on the eerie glow of the night creature. "Yes, of course. One has nothing to do with the other. You aren't Mikhail Dubrinsky. You aren't asking me to give you the book for safeguarding, you're telling me to give it to him."

"Would you give me the book?"

"Yes." She didn't hesitate. "But not to give away. Only to safeguard."

Vikirnoff let his breath out. She disarmed him so easily. The tension began to ease from his body. "Do you want to keep this thing? I think of it as evil. Am I wrong to feel that way about it?"

"The blood of my grandmother and two others sealed this book. Of course I think of it as evil and more than ever, that means it can't fall into the wrong hands. I don't know your prince and I don't find memories of him in you. How do you know his heart or his soul, Vikirnoff? You want to hand him a weapon that could be the ruin of us all and yet you do so on blind faith." She shook her head. "I can't do it."

"Are you concerned that Mikhail will be in more danger?"

"Partly."

"No one has to know he has the book. He will not try to wield the power, only to study Xavier's plan to rid the earth of our species. Xavier must have spent centuries developing a spell to use against my people."

"I'm certain he did. The point is this. You asked me to locate the book and I did. Now you want me to recover the book and hand it over to someone I don't know. Does that make sense to you?"

"If you trust me, then there is no problem. We do not want to keep this thing."

"Isn't it better to leave it where it is for the time being and if it becomes apparent Xavier is getting close to discovering its whereabouts, then retrieve it?" Natalya stepped out of the shadows. "Don't ask me to do this, Vikirnoff. I can't go against what I feel is right, not even for you."

"You believe it is better to leave the book there? Why do you think vampires are looking for psychic women who have the ability to touch objects and read the past? Why do you think so many have gathered here? A war between vampires and Carpathians? I believe they are searching for the book. Xavier knows your father was found near the peat bogs. He has to be searching there."

"The safeguards will hold."

"Will they? Who taught your father the safeguards? Who taught you? Even Razvan knows the safeguards you use. They will not hold and I think you know that."

"Then I'll guard the book. I'll hide it somewhere else, halfway around the world, somewhere he'll never think to look."

"Natalya."

She threw her head back, exposing her throat, but her fists were knotted at her sides. Her name. Just that, nothing else, a wealth of expression in his voice. "I'll find the damn book, Vik, but I'm not handing it over to the prince until I'm certain it will be safe."

"That is good enough for me, ainaak enyem, I cannot ask for more." He held out his hand. "Let us go find it."