Adalasia stepped forward to insert the key into the lock, but Sandu put a warning hand on her arm. “Wait. I remember this as well. This was not my father’s safeguard, but he left it because it was so clever. Only he had the keys. How is it that you came by them?”
“These keys have been handed down mother to daughter for centuries,” Adalasia said.
“Liona must have given them to your Tessina Ravasio long ago,” Sandu said. “This is another memory that I recall. It is hazy and barely there, I warn all of you. Tiberiu, I am sharing on the path of the brotherhood. You have been to the monastery. You did not stay long, but you carry the oath on your back. You will be able to see,” Sandu assured.
The vignette Sandu provided for them was shadowy and even grainy, like an older movie that hadn’t been cleaned up, nearly impossible for the others to see. He couldn’t quite get the imagery to unfold for them.
You are trying too hard to remember, my love, Adalasia whispered on their own path. Let it come to you. It’s almost there. Just breathe. It will come.
He had to have faith in himself. His father had sent him away from his family without an anchor for a reason. He had to have faith that now that they had found their way, it would come back to him and would make sense.
Sandu kept the connection between them not only mental but physical, his fingers loosely shackling her wrist. She felt him take a deep breath and exhale. The images in his mind cleared.
There was Domizio standing beside Sandu just outside the boulders, both of them looking at another man who stood between them. The man was definitely Carpathian. His back was to them, but his shoulders were wide, his back strong, and his hair was unmistakable. He had very blond hair, streaked with silver, long, to his waist.
The stranger turned and Adalasia tried not to react. None of the Carpathian males reacted. Not a single one. He was the most daunting, scary-looking man she’d ever seen. His facial features were cut from pure stone. Pure beauty, hard lines. At the same time, there was something cunning, like a beast, in every one of those lines carved deep. His mouth held an edge of cruelty, but it was his eyes that seemed to pierce right through time, through centuries, to see them. He had strange blue eyes, but so light they appeared silvery. When he turned his head just slightly, the color deepened so it appeared as if hot blue flames burned in his eyes, just the way the red flames burned in Sandu’s.
“Do you recognize him?” Tiberiu asked.
Sandu’s breath hissed out of him in a slow exhale. “Yes. He came to us on more than one occasion. Many occasions. He saved our father’s life numerous times and hunted with him. He was . . . extraordinary. He also carried darkness in him. A demon that grew with each battle. He was the first ancient I ever encountered that had the oath carved into his back. He forced my father to put it there, over and over, until it stayed.”
“Who was he?” Benedek persisted.
“He had many names. Mostly his name was whispered. He was called Hän ku piwtä— predator; hunter; tracker. Mostly it was whispered he was a predator, but once set on the trail of the undead, like my father, he never stopped.”
“Or like you,” Adalasia whispered, her hand going to her throat. She was beginning to put the pieces of the puzzle together, and she wasn’t altogether certain she liked the answer. She was in Sandu’s mind, and he knew what she was thinking. He caught the impressions before she could hide them. She could tell he didn’t like where her mind was going with her conclusions.
“He was often referred to as Hän ku kaswa o numamet— Sky- owner— because there was no one faster in the skies. He moved like lightning. Others called him Hän ku pesä—Protector—but most referred to him as Igazág—Justice,” Sandu said. “If you heard the stories, you would have likely heard that name used.”
Petru nodded. “Justice was a legend.”
Nicu agreed. “No one could have done the things attributed to him.”
“The stories were true,” Sandu said. “I witnessed many of his feats. It would be terrifying to have one such as Justice turn vampire or, worse, become fully demon and be let loose on the world. It would not be easy for any to destroy him.”
“He is related to you, isn’t he, Sandu?” Adalasia whispered aloud. It was terrifying to think that this man was his relative. He was more beast than man.
She felt Sandu go still. She had been afraid of him, distrustful. From the beginning of their relationship, she had held back, and he had pushed and pushed, knowing she was holding back. A part of her knew the demon in him was strong. She had caught glimpses of it, and she had known to be afraid.