“It is possible, then, that my lifemate succumbed to the darkness.” There was sadness in her voice. “The others will be unsettled with this news. It has been difficult, at times, to continue with our duty.”
“The others?” Petru prompted.
“There are four gates and four of us guarding those gates,” Liona said. “Each must be vigilant as the demons try to escape and find a way to get to the guardian of the cards.”
“Three other Carpathian women?” Nicu asked. “These women have been alone for centuries? How? How was this possible?”
“We made a commitment to one another,” Liona explained. “We sometimes exchanged places so we could at least have a new setting. See new things. Experience new adventures. We spoke often. Gaia was the only one trapped in the same place, but we all made sure to share what we could with her of our world and the changes taking place in it.”
“Did all of you hunt the undead?” Nicu asked.
“We hid from them if they were close if we could,” Liona said. “But if they killed too many humans in our territory, then we felt as if we had no choice.”
Sandu tightened his fingers around Adalasia’s in order to keep from blurting out that, of course, she had a choice. He was proud of her, but she had no business fighting vampires. He knew she had been trained by his father to fight vampires, just as his mother had known, but it wasn’t an accepted practice. They weren’t to hunt them. Only fight them if absolutely necessary, meaning it was life or death.
“We tried to meet up together at first and exchange information on battling the undead. If it was a master vampire, we didn’t try to defeat it. The lesser ones we practiced on until we got pretty good at destroying them. If one of us was injured, the others would come to heal them. The gates and portals were very strong in the first few centuries. It was only later that they began to wear down, and we didn’t dare leave our posts.”
Sandu brought Adalasia’s palm to his mouth and kissed the center of it. “There will be no need of you hunting the vampire now, or guarding the gate. If you wish to go to the Carpathian Mountains or see your friends, you are free to do so, although I would prefer to hold you close to me for a long while.”
“Guarding the gate is still my duty, Sandu,” Liona said. She sounded very calm, but there was no mistaking the firmness of her conviction.
“I am just saying, I am willing to help you with that duty.”
She smiled at him. “I can still scarcely take in that you are here, Sandu. So much time passed. After a time, the years ran together. The other guardians of the gates, like me, knew the portals were wearing thin. We also knew that those holding the cards had to come soon, or one of the gates would fall. The cards have to be renewed every now and then, and it has been centuries.
“Once my blood falls on the card, the repairs to the gate will be made and it will stand. The others like you, Adalasia, have to get here in time. They must seal their portal and renew their deck.”
“What of Gaia?” Tiberiu asked. “Is there no chance for her?”
“She believes that Justice has a lifemate and that his lifemate will be able to connect with him. If that were to happen, between the gatekeepers, Gaia and his lifemate, we believe with his strength, we would be able to free him. We are forming a plan just in case that should really happen. The biggest problem would be keeping the demons in that realm while we allow Justice and Gaia to escape. That is a long way away and most likely won’t ever really happen. It is something we plan for to keep our minds occupied.”
“It seems I must accept her decision,” Tiberiu said.
“She will not leave him,” Liona reiterated.
“Then I will take my leave,” Tiberiu said and bowed in an old-world courtly way. “I have not spent this long in the company of others in a very long time. If you do not mind, I shall return occasionally to ask after Gaia, to ensure she lives and that her decision remains firm.”
“I will look forward to your visit,” Liona said.
Sandu’s gut tightened. An unmated Carpathian male could turn at any time, and Tiberiu was ancient, very close. Liona had given him permission to return alone, and that didn’t sit well with Sandu or with any of the ancients.
Sandu stood and went with Tiberiu to the door. He respected the warrior. He’d held out with honor for longer than most Carpathians could ever conceive of doing. Sandu gripped his forearms. “Arwa-arvod mäne me ködak,” he said. For Adalasia, he interpreted, May your honor hold back the dark.