Part 36 (1/2)

”What did you see?” the rolling voice asked.

”Nothing,” Leandro said, obviously lying. ”I saw nothing of import.”

Tatiana felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and was forced to turn. Her gaze met with the light grey eyes of the stranger.

Broderick stood proud in the background, unmoving.

”I am Domin,” the stranger said. He had hair as white as the purest snow. It fell long and straight to his waist, like gossamer cobwebs--so fine and thin. His grayer beard lay against his chest, not long but not trimmed short either. He looked to be older, fifties perhaps. But, seeing him, Tatiana knew he was like Broderick. She detected the same sensation from his body. It was as if she could read him. So very like the vampires, yet just different enough she could tell them apart.

”Are you trying to read me?” the old lycan asked, as if amused by the thought. His words stayed gentle, but Tatiana knew she would have to be careful around him. This one saw too much.

”No, I was just sensing that you were a lycan.” Tatiana tried to keep her tone light.

Broderick and Leandro exchanged brief looks. Domin studied her for a long moment, trying to detect if she lied. Slowly, he smiled and Tatiana wondered how much he saw.

”I am sorry that we have to meet again under such dire circ.u.mstances,” Domin said, stroking her cheek with this soft wrinkled hand. His large knuckles glanced over her skin. He was very warm. ”But you see there is no time for pleasantries. Your powers grow and are uncertain.”

”What do you mean again?” Tatiana asked warily. ”We have not met before.”

”No, not in this form,” Domin said. ”But your gifts and I are old friends and old enemies. It all depends on the carrier.”

Tatiana s.h.i.+vered. ”And what are we now?”

”We shall see, won't we, child? Your future is blocked and forked.” Domin turned to look at Broderick. ”Well done. You would've made a great seer, Broderick. It is as you expected. She is of theAddien line.”

”What are you talking about?” Tatiana asked. She wondered if the old lycan was crazy. ”I was born Sinclair. Tatiana Sinclair.

You must have me confused with someone else.”

Domin frowned. His grey eyes turned sharply to Leandro, who he'd been ignoring, and then to Broderick. ”She truly has no knowledge whatsoever? Who has guided her? Who has trained her?”

Broderick merely shook his head, indicating no one.

Domin froze. ”It is worse than I feared.”

Tatiana felt the coldness of the cave creeping back into her limbs as Domin's hand left her face. She tried to shrug his hand from her shoulder, but it didn't move. His grip tightened slightly on her and she knew his frail body held more strength than it looked to.

”My mother,” Tatiana whispered. All eyes turned to her at the feeble sound. ”She used to tell me stories about our ancestors.”

Domin sighed, looking mournful. ”All that greatness reduced to mere fairytales. You would've been proud of all you accomplished.”

”It wasn't me,” Tatiana said. ”It was my ancestors.”

”Ah, but it is your blood. Your life's history is in your blood. They are a part of you. They call out to you to remember. Can you not hear them in you head? Have you listened to them?”

Tatiana looked at the old lycan and debated. He seemed the only one so far who knew what she was and understood it. She took a deep breath. ”I've seen them, felt them as if I was them.”

”Ah, visions of the past,” Domin said, nodding smartly. ”They happen to all with the gift. We learn not to trigger them, but alas it is a burden we must bear.”

Tatiana almost felt relief that she wasn't alone. She knew she could learn a lot from Domin, if he would be willing to teach her. A war waged inside of her. As much as she wanted to control her gift, she wanted Marcello by her side more. She had a feeling he wouldn't be so welcome here. She felt the tension in Leandro standing behind her. She noticed how the lycan elder and the vampire did not speak directly.

”Can you tell me of my ancestors? You seem to have known them.” Tatiana's voice wavered slightly. She was almost too scared to know the truth of it. ”Were they good witches? Why did they lose their powers? Why did I get them back?”