They will kill all of you. Try to hang on. Can you hold out for a half-hour, an hour? We II have help after that.
They will get to us first. I feel them above me, disturbing the earth. They have death in their minds.
I’ll try to buy you some more time.
Who are you?
The woman was calmer now, determined to stay in control now that an outside source was working with her.
Raven took a breath, let it out. What was the most reassuring way to answer? Raven Whitney would hardly inspire confidence.
I am Mikhail’s woman.
The woman’s relief spilled over and Margaret shrieked again, whipping the men into a digging frenzy. Raven stepped out of the timberline, began a slow saunter boldly across the meadow, humming to herself as she walked. Harry spotted her first. She heard his curse, his whispered orders to the others. Jacob and Hans stopped work, Hans looking uneasily up at the sky.
Raven waved to the group, flashing an innocent smile. “Hi, everybody. What are you doing? Isn’t it beautiful up here?” She turned around in a circle, arms outstretched. “The flowers are brilliant, aren’t they?” she continued gushing. She was very careful to keep a good distance between them. “I’m so mad I forgot my camera.”
The four assassins exchanged nervous, guilty looks. Margaret was the first to recover, sending Raven a serene, welcoming smile. “How lovely to see you, dear. You’re a long way from the inn.”
“I thought a hike and some fresh air would be good for me. Are you hiking, too?” Raven didn’t have to pretend to shiver as she ran her hands up and down her arms to warm herself. “It looks like we’re in for another storm. I was just thinking of turning around when I spotted all of you.” She turned her head toward the rambling stone house. “I would love to live this far out in the mountains, surrounded by nature.” She looked directly at Hans, smiling guilelessly. “Your place is wonderful. You must love it up here.”
They all looked confused and guilty, as if they had no idea what to do. Jacob was the first to recover. He dropped his pick ax and started purposefully toward her. Raven’s breath caught in her throat. She was as indecisive as they were. She didn’t dare run and give herself away, but she didn’t want Jacob to get his hands on her either.
Raven stepped back, allowing the smile to fade from her face. “Have I interrupted something?”
At that moment the woman trapped beneath the earth had another swelling contraction. It rippled through her body like a strong wave, and the woman’s pain radiated out from her. Instantly Margaret locked eyes with Raven.
There was only one thing to do and Raven did it. Gasping in horror, she ran forward toward the group. “Oh, my God! There’s someone trapped in a mineshaft and she’s in labor! Margaret! Is that what’s happening? Has someone gone for help?”
In her headlong flight she deliberately chose a path away from Jacob and toward the left, to the timberline side of the others. She stumbled to a halt on the edge of the digging site. The air was heavy, sluggish, almost difficult to breathe. She recognized a pale version of Mikhail’s safeguards. The pregnant woman’s lifemate must have thrown up a barrier hastily in an attempt to slow the progress of the fanatics.
“It will be all right,” Margaret said calmly, as if she were talking to a child. “That thing down there is not human.”
Raven’s head came up, blue eyes wide with shock. “Can’t you feel her? Margaret, I told you I have certain abilities. I wouldn’t make up something like this. There’s a woman trapped down there and she’s having a baby. There are mines all through this area. She must have gotten trapped in one of them. I can feel her fear.”
“She’s not human.” Margaret walked carefully around the site toward her. “I’m like you, Raven. We are sisters. I know how painful it was for you to hunt the serial killers you brought to justice, because I have done the same thing.”
Raven swallowed a lump of fear. Margaret sounded so sweet and refined. But she reeked of the sour smell of fanaticism. The faded eyes blazed diabolically with it. Raven’s stomach heaved. Maybe she could reach Jacques. “Margaret, you must feel her pain, her fear.” Raven’s mouth was dry, her heart pounding. “You know who I am, what I’m capable of. I would never make a mistake in something like this.”
Hans went back to work with the shovel, muttering a warning to the others. The wind tugged at their clothing, raked at their bodies. The clouds darkened to an ominous charcoal, began to roil as the wind shrieked through them. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud and thunder rumbled in warning.
“This is undead. A vampiress. She feeds off the blood of our children.” Margaret crept closer to Raven.
Raven shook her head, pressed her hands into her stomach. “You can’t believe that, Margaret. Vampires are pure fiction. This woman trapped down there is very real. Vampires don’t have babies. Come on, Jacob! You can’t believe this nonsense.”
“She’s a vampire, Raven, and we’re going to kill her.” Jacob indicated the knapsack lying open with the sharpened stakes. His eyes were overbright with anticipation. He looked eager to do the task.
She backpedaled. “You’re all crazy.”
Please! Help me! Call him!
The desperate cry was edged with terror and pain. Raven reacted immediately.
Mikhail! Jacques! Help us
.
“The she devil is calling to her,” Margaret reported.
Please, call Mikhail. He will come for you,
the woman wailed.
“Stop her,” Margaret screamed. “The vampiress speaks to her, begs her to call for help. Don’t do it, Raven. She tricks you. Don’t call Dubrinsky.”
Raven spun away from them, took off running, sending out a frantic call into the stormy air for Mikhail, for anyone. She made it into the trees before Jacob caught her, locking onto her legs just below the knees and slamming her hard into the ground.
The fall knocked the wind out of her, her head spun, and for a moment she lay still, facedown on the forest floor wondering what had happened. Jacob flipped her over roughly, straddling her, his boyish good looks twisted with lust and the urge for domination. She caught the sickening chemical odor of cocaine emanating from his pores.
Mikhail!
She sent the call like a prayer, knowing what Jacob had in mind, knowing she wasn’t strong enough to stop him.
The wind increased. Far off, a wolf howled, and another answered. Farther away, a bear growled irritably.
“You think you’re so damned smart, selling yourself to the highest bidder, so innocent and untouchable.” Jacob gripped the front of her chambray shirt, jerked hard, and ripped the material right down to her small waist. Her full breasts spilled out, instantly drawing his attention. Roughly he grabbed her, bruising soft flesh.
I’m sorry.
The trapped woman’s cry was edged with guilt. She had failed to guard her mental cries, had allowed Margaret Summers to hear her calls to Raven.
Mikhail! Please!
Raven’s hopeless plea went out again.
You must hear me. I need you. God, please help me. Help that poor woman.
Jacob roared, slapped her once, twice. “He’s marked you. My God, you’re one of them.” His hand closed over her throat, threatening to cut off her air. “He’s impregnated you like the others. I knew it was him.”
He raised his hand above her and Raven caught the glint of shiny metal. Jacob stabbed down, his face a mask of fury and hate. Pain sliced low and wicked through her abdomen; blood gushed warm. Jacob pulled the dripping knife from her flesh and raised it again.
Chapter Nine
The earth rumbled, shook, rolled. Jacob’s knife buried deep a second time. The wind unleashed its deadly power, sent leaves, twigs, and small branches flying through the air like missiles. The knife bit a third time. Lightning sizzled once, twice, three times, slammed into the earth as thunder cracked, shaking the land with the unholy sound. The knife found her a fourth time. The heavens opened up and
rain poured down hard and fast, as if floodgates had burst.
Jacob was covered in blood. He pushed away from her, turning his head as the sky grew darker. He could hear the others screaming in fear. “Damn you.” He sliced down a fifth time in fury and defiance.
An unseen hand caught his wrist before the blade could find her, fingers curling hard in an unbreakable grip. The knife turned inward toward Jacob’s throat, and for one long, eternal moment, he stared in horror at the bloodied blade as it inched toward his flesh. It struck suddenly, burying itself to the hilt.
Wolves boiled out of the forest, circled the meadow, glowing eyes fixed on the three people dodging branches that were hurtling through the air. Margaret screamed and ran. Harry took off blindly and Hans lost his footing and dropped to his knees as the earth heaved and shook again.
“Raven.” Mikhail materialized beside her, fear for her clawing at his guts. He ripped the jeans away so he could see the extent of her injuries.
The earth rolled again, split the meadow open. Mikhail clamped his hands over the pumping holes in an attempt to stem the terrible flow of blood. Jacques shimmered into view, then Eric, Byron. Tienn arrived, and Vlad.
Gregori blasted out of the sky toward the three human assassins surrounded by the wolf pack. There on the meadow, with the world coming to an end, he took the shape of a huge, black wolf, a wolf with the hungry, mad eyes of retribution.
“My God.” Jacques was on his knees beside Mikhail, gathering handfuls of rich soil. “Go, Byron, for the herbs. Hurry!”
Within minutes they had packed Raven’s wounds with their poultices. Mikhail ignored them, cradling Raven in his arms, his large body bent protectively to shield her from the onslaught of the pounding rain.
Mikhail’s entire being was concentrated, focused on only one thing.
You will not leave me,
he commanded.
I will not release you.
Lightning sizzled, whipped across the sky, slammed into the earth. On its heels thunder boomed, shook the mountains.
“Jacques! Eleanor is going to give birth.” Vlad was desperate.
“Get her into the house. Call Celeste and Dierdre.” Jacques toed Jacob’s body contemptuously as he added his large frame as a shelter over Raven.
“She is not dead,” Mikhail hissed, seeing the compassion in his brother’s eyes. “She is dying, Mikhail.” Jacques’s chest hurt with the knowledge.
Mikhail dragged her to him, bent his head until his cheek lay against hers.
Iknow you can hear me; you must drink, Raven. Drink deeply.
He felt the faint stirring in his mind. Warmth, regret. So much pain.
Letme go.
No! Never! Do not talk. Just drink. For me, if you love me, for me, for my life, drink what I offer.
Before Jacques could guess his intent and try to stop him, Mikhail jabbed deeply into his own jugular.
Dark blood spurted. Mikhail forced her to him, used every power he possessed to force compliance. Her will obeyed; her body was almost too weak to follow. She swallowed what poured into her but could not draw deeply on her own.
Bolt after bolt of lightning slammed to earth. A tree exploded, rained fiery sparks. The earth heaved again, rolled, came apart at the seams. Gregori loomed over them, the darkest of the Carpathians, his pale eyes ice cold and holding the stark promise of death.
“The wolves did their job,” Eric reported grimly. “The lightning and earthquakes will do the rest.”
Jacques ignored him, gripping Mikhail’s shoulder. “Enough, Mikhail. You grow too weak. She has lost too much blood. She has internal injuries.”
Black rage filled Mikhail. He threw back his head and roared his denial, the sound exploding through the forest and mountains like the booming of the thunder. Trees burst into flames around them, exploding like sticks of dynamite.
“Mikhail.” Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. “Stop her now.”
“She has my blood; it will heal her. If we can keep blood in her, get her into the soil and perform the healing ritual, then she will live.”
“Enough, damn it!” Jacques voice held very real fear.
Gregori touched Mikhail gently. “If you die, my old friend, we have no chance of saving her. We must work together if we are to do this thing.”
Raven’s head lolled back, her body limp like a rag doll. Mikhail’s blood ran unchecked down his chest. Jacques leaned into his brother, but Gregori was there before him, closing the gaping wound with a single stroke of his tongue.
Mikhail was nearly oblivious to his surroundings, he was directing his entire being, his entire disciplined focus on Raven. She was slipping away from him, fading slowly but surely. Her heart beat erratically, one beat, a miss, a single beat. There was an ominous, eerie silence.
Swearing, Mikhail laid her flat, physically breathed for her, manually stimulated her heart. His mind sought the trail of hers, found a small, huddled light, dim and fading. She floated on a sea of pain. She was weak beyond his imaginings. Breathe, massage. Call her back, reinforce it with an order. Repeat the process.
A torrent of water raced down the rocky canyon behind them, a solid wall gathering speed and force. The ground shook again. Two trees exploded into fiery conflagrations despite the heavy rains.
“Let us help,” Gregori ordered softly.
Jacques moved his brother gently aside, took over CPR while Gregori breathed for Raven. In and out, Gregori filled her lungs with precious air. Jacques forced her heart to continue. It left Mikhail free to concentrate on his mental quest. A stirring in his mind, the lightest of touches, but he knew it was her and he locked onto that trace and followed it ruthlessly.
You will not leave me.
She tried to move away from him, up and away. There was too much pain in the direction in which he called her.
Panicked, Mikhail screamed her name.
You cannot leave me, Raven. I cannot survive without you. Come back to me, come back to me, or I follow you where you lead.
“I have a pulse,” Jacques said. “It is weak, but it is there. We need transport.”
There was a shimmering in the gathering darkness. Tienn appeared beside them. “Eleanor has given birth, and the child lives,” he announced. “It is a male.”
Mikhail let out his breath in a long, slow hiss. “She betrayed Raven.”
Jacques shook his head in warning when Eric would have spoken, would have tried to defend the woman. Mikhail was in a killing rage. The slightest mistake might provoke him. Mikhail’s fury was triggering the turbulent weather, the raging storm and heaving earth.
Mikhail sank back into his mind, holding Raven to him, taking as much of her pain as he could. The trip home was a blur to him, the rain pelting the windshield, lightning sizzling and snapping. The village was deserted and dark, the electricity out in the terrible ferocity of the storm. Inside their houses, people were huddled and praying, hoping to live through the ferocious storm, not understanding their very lives could depend on one small human woman’s courage and tenacity.
Raven’s body, so limp and lifeless, was stripped of her bloodstained clothing and placed on Mikhail’s bed. Healing herbs were crushed, some lit. The poultices were replaced with newer, stronger ones to try to stem further blood loss. Mikhail touched the dark bruises on her face with trembling fingers, the dark marks that stood out starkly against her full white breasts where Jacob had deliberately hurt her in his jealous, drugged rage. Fury seized Mikhail and he longed to crush Jacob’s throat beneath his hands. “She needs blood,” he said abruptly.
“So do you.” Jacques waited for Mikhail to draw the sheet over Raven before he offered his wrist. “Drink while you can.”
Gregori touched his shoulder. “Forgive me, Jacques, but my blood is stronger. It holds immense power. Allow me to do this small thing for my friend.” At Jacques’s nod, Gregori drew a single mark over his vein.
There was silence as Mikhail availed himself of Gregori’s rich blood. Jac
ques sighed softly. “She has exchanged blood on three occasions with you?” He forced his voice to be neutral, not wanting to appear to reprimand his leader and brother.
Mikhail’s dark eyes flickered warningly. “Yes. If she lives, she will most likely be one of us.” It was left unsaid that she might live to be destroyed by the very one who had converted her.
“We cannot seek human medical aid for her. If our way does not work, Mikhail, her doctors will be useless anyway,” Jacques cautioned.
“Damn it, do you think I do not realize what I have done? You think I do not know I failed her, that I failed to protect her? That by my selfish actions I put her life in jeopardy?” Mikhail stripped off his bloody shirt, balled it in one hand, and threw it to the farthermost corner of the room.
“This is senseless, looking back,” Gregori said calmly.
Mikhail’s boots hit the floor, his socks. He dragged himself onto the bed beside Raven. “She cannot take blood our way; she is too weak. We have no choice but to use their primitive transfusion methods.”
Dark Prince (Dark Series - book 1) Page 19