There was no way for her to break their bond. He knew that with his every instinct, and it brought him a measure of com fort. The rage, always so close, so deadly, was leashed and under control for the time being. As long as Shea was with him.
But now he had to find Byron; he owed the Carpathian that much. The drive in him to do so was strong, almost overwhelming, as if some part of him, not his mind but something deep within him, remembered their shared friendship. He should have placed Shea in a trance and demanded that she sleep while he did this thing, but the truth was, he simply couldn’t bear their separation, and he wanted her close, where he could protect her. And he wanted her happy.
Women!
Shea heard his disgruntled complaint clearly in her mind. A small smile tugged at the corners of her reluctant mouth. “Am I complicating your life, Jacques?” she asked sweetly, hopefully.
He stopped so abruptly that she was jerked to a halt. Jacques caught her wet hair in his fist and pulled her head back so that the rain ran along her soft skin like honey. “The truth is, Shea, you make me feel so much, I do not know if I can stand it sometimes.” His mouth found hers almost blindly, desperately, feeding voraciously as if he might devour her, take her into his body forever.
Nothing can ever happen to you!
His hands were biting into her skin, his body taut with tension, his mind a whirling confusion of fear and determination and so much hunger.
Almost without thought Shea reacted instinctively, her slender arms circling his neck, her body soft and pliant against the aggression in his, her mind calm and loving, a warm, safe haven for his fragmented, tortured mind. She kissed him without reservation, pouring every ounce of love and support she could into her response. He lifted his head reluctantly and rested his forehead on hers.
“Nothing is going to happen to me, Jacques. I think you’re having anxiety attacks.” She tousled his hair as if he were a small boy, gave him a teasing grin. “Do Carpathians have shrinks, too?”
He laughed softly, astonished that he could do so when he had been so terrified only moments earlier. “You are as disrespectful as a woman can get.”
“I’m not just any woman, silly, I’m a doctor and terribly brilliant. Everyone says so.”
“Do they now?” He held her tight against his hard frame, thinking to take her into his very body, his arms protectively sheltering her.
“Is this going to be too much for you, Jacques? Facing those horrible butchers again? Are you certain you can do this?”
He raised his head so that she couldn’t see the wolfish smile that didn’t reach his ice-black eyes. “I am looking forward to renewing our acquaintance.”
Shea touched his mind with hers, found a grim satisfaction at the thought of a confrontation, but Jacques was too strong to allow her to see the rage and hatred welling up, threatening to spew forth violence and revenge. Shea was a healer, a gentle woman who could not conceive of an evil such as he had seen, such as he himself possessed. She took his hand, her fingers lacing tightly with his. She might not ever have a child, but she had Jacques. She wanted him far away from pain and torment, far from men or creatures who might try to destroy him again. She was very determined to see him safe.
Chapter Twelve
Raven stood in the comparative shelter of the porch, her face turned up toward the sky, eyes closed. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, and her fingers twisted together compulsively over her stomach. She was not with the others, rather somewhere out of her body and concentrating on attempting to find Byron’s location. Beside her stood her dark, intimidating husband, his mind obviously locked with hers. Mikhail was so like Jacques that Shea could not tear her gaze from him. As she moved onto the porch a step behind Jacques, she could clearly see that Mikhail was furious. He was seething with anger, violence swirling very close to the surface, yet his posture was purely protective. He had placed himself between Raven and the ferocity of the storm.
Gregori was as still as a statue, his face a blank mask, his silver eyes as empty as death, yet Shea gave him a wide berth. There was something dangerous in his utter stillness. Shea felt she had no way to sorting out the complexity of the Carpathian male’s nature. Gregori was watching Raven through narrowed, restless eyes, eyes that saw far too much. Suddenly he cursed, low and vicious, startling from someone of his stature and power. “She should not put herself at risk. She is with child.”
His eyes met Jacques’, silver lightning and black ice. Total understanding between the two men. Shea merged her mind with Jacques’ quickly to try to understand the hidden currents. Raven’s pregnancy, if she was pregnant, changed everything as far as the men were concerned. Shea could see no evidence of a child—Raven appeared as slim as ever—but she couldn’t believe the healer would be wrong. He seemed so infallible, so completely invincible. The child was everything, all-important to the men. It surprised, even shocked her, the way they regarded the pregnancy. It was a miracle to both of them. The baby was more important than any of their lives. Shea was confused. Despite Jacques’ fractured memories, his protective streak was extremely strong.
“He’s aware of his surroundings, but he can’t move. Even his mind is locked and still. He is paralyzed somehow.” Raven’s voice startled Shea, brought her back to the stormy weather and their rescue mission. Raven was clearly speaking of Byron. “He can’t move or call out, not even mentally. It is dark and damp, and he knows he will suffer greatly before they are done with him.” Raven swayed, her hands protectively covering her stomach.
The healer moved, a blur of speed, catching her arm and wrenching her out into the driving rain. Gregori snagged Mikhail’s shirt, too, and yanked him into the fury of the storm. “Break off now, Raven,” Gregori commanded. He shook her, shook Mikhail. “Let go of him now!”
Jacques leapt forward, grabbed his brother, and hit his face, once, twice. “Come back!” It was a hoarse cry.
Shea bit her lip, suddenly terrified. The couple seemed somehow bound, caught in the vampire’s trap with Byron. Gregori pulled Raven farther into the driving rain. Jacques pushed Mikhail after them. It was Mikhail who recovered first. He blinked at his brother, looked around him as if unaware where he was. Then, instinctively, he reached for Raven.
“Bring her back, Mikhail. Go after her. Guide her back. This is too dangerous for her. Even with my connection to her, she is trapped,” Gregori said. “We are dealing with more than just any vampire. This one is skilled in the black arts and the use of herbs and power stones. I know what he has done and how he is doing it.”
Mikhail pulled Raven tightly against him, his black eyes hard with mental strain. Raven blinked, looked around her, seemed surprised to find herself in the rain. Her hand went to her temple in a gesture of pain. “Stop staring at me. I feel like some kind of freak show.” She sounded hurt, hid her face on Mikhail’s chest.
His arms circled her, drew her into the shelter of his body, his head bent lovingly toward hers. It was such an intimate gesture, Shea had to turn away. To her dismay, she found the healer studying her. Shea moved closer to Jacques, unconsciously seeking protection from the scrutiny.
“You need nourishment.” The healer spoke gently.
“When I’m hungry, I’ll eat,” Shea told him haughtily. “You don’t need to worry about all of us. I know how to care for myself.”
The silvery eyes slashed through the lie. “Your hunger radiates from you, and your weakness could place all of us in jeopardy.” He turned his powerful stare on Raven.
Raven squirmed visibly. “Oh, shut up, Gregori,” she snapped, her blue eyes flashing fire at him. A faint smile curved his mouth, failing to light his eyes. “I did not speak.”
“You spoke volumes, and you know it.” Her chin went up belligerently. “Your male sense of superiority is enough to make a woman want to scream. Honestly, Gregori, all that cold logic makes a person crazy.” She allowed Mikhail to lead her onto the porch.
“Logic works, unlike emotional w
omen,” Gregori returned unruffled. “Your first duty is to protect your child. Our first duty must be to protect you.” His silver gaze clearly censured Mikhail.
“You don’t know for sure if I’m pregnant.”
“Do not play games, Raven. Sometimes your rebellious ways grow tedious. I know you are with child. You cannot hide such a thing from me. Mikhail knows it to be true, and he knows he cannot allow your dangerous involvement in this mission to continue with you in such a condition.”
Raven flung out her ebony hair. “No one allows me to do anything. I decide. I was born and raised human, Gregori,” she pointed out. “I can only be myself. Byron is my friend, and he is in desperate trouble. I intend to help him.”
“If your lifemate is so enthralled with you that he would allow you such foolishness,” Gregori replied softly, menacingly, “then I can do no other than protect you myself.”
“Don’t you talk about Mikhail like that!” Raven was furious.
You really know how to stir up the hornets’ nest with the women, do you not?
Mikhail demanded, even though he understood Gregori completely and felt him justified.
Gregori did not look at him but stared out into the storm.
The child she carries is my lifemate. It is female and belongs to me.
There was an unmistakable warning note, an actual threat.
In all their centuries together, such a thing had never happened. Mikhail immediately closed his mind to Raven. She could never hope to understand how Gregori felt. Without a lifemate, the healer had no choice but to eventually destroy himself or become the very epitome of evil. The vampire. The walking dead. Gregori had spent endless centuries waiting for his lifemate, holding on when those younger than he had given in. Gregori had defended their people, lived a solitary existence so that he might keep their race safe. He was far more alone than the others of his kind, and far more susceptible to the call of power as he had to hunt and kill often. Mikhail could not blame his oldest friend for his possessive, protective streak toward the unborn child. He spoke calmly and firmly, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Gregori had held on for so long, this promise of a lifemate could send him careening over the edge into the dark madness if he felt there was a danger to the female child.
Raven is not like Carpathian woman. You have always known and accepted that. She will not remain in seclusion during this time. She would wither and die.
Gregori actually snarled, a menacing rumble that froze Shea in place, put Jacques into a crouch, and had Mikhail shifting position for a better defense. Raven pushed past Mikhail’s strong body and fearlessly laid a hand on the healer’s arm. Everyone else might think Gregori could turn at any moment, but he had held on for centuries, and she believed implicitly that he would no more hurt her than he would her child.
“Gregori, don’t be angry with Mikhail.” Her voice was soft and gentle. “His first duty to me is to see to my happiness.”
“It is to see to your protection.” Gregori’s voice was a blend of heat and light.
“In a way it’s the same thing. Don’t blame him for having to make adjustments for what you consider my shortcomings. It hasn’t been easy for him, or for me, for that matter. We could have waited to conceive until I’d had time to become more familiar with Carpathian ways, but that would have taken more time than you have. You’re far more than a close friend to us—you’re family, a part of our hearts. We weren’t willing to risk losing you. So we both pray this child is a female and that she grows to love and cherish you as we do, that this is the one who will be your other half.”
Gregori stirred as if to say something.
Do not say anything!
Mikhailhissed in the healer’s head.
Shebelieves the child will have a choice.
Gregori bowed his head mentally to Mikhail. If Mikhail chose to allow his wife the comforting if false thought that the female child would have a choice in such a matter, then so be it.
Shea was astonished that a man so powerful, obviously such a leader as Mikhail, could calmly allow another man to snarl at him and rebuke him as Gregori had. She was beginning to suspect that Jacques’ brother was a man of strong character, and the love and emotion apparent in both him and Raven brought tears to her eyes. This was Jacques’ family, his legacy, and there was real love, real affection, among them, making them capable of great sacrifice. She slipped her hand into Jacques’ and clung to him, feeling she had something in common with Raven.
Raven’s blue eyes were steady on Gregori. “If you wish to examine me to determine the sex of the child, you may do so.” Her chin lifted. “But as you wish me to accept you for yourself, for your predatory nature, you must accept me as I am. My heart and soul may be Carpathian, but my mind is human. I will not be put on a shelf somewhere because you or my husband deems it necessary. Human women moved out of the dark ages a long time ago. My place is with Mikhail, and I must make my own decisions. If you feel the need to add your protection to Mikhail’s, I will be most grateful.”
There was a long silence, and the red glow faded slowly from the slashing silver eyes. Gregori shook his head slowly, with infinite weariness. This woman was so different from his kind. Reckless. Compassionate. Unaware of every taboo she broke. His hand went to her stomach, fingers splayed. He focused, aimed, sent himself out of his body. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart seemed to melt. Deliberately he moved to surround the tiny being, merging his light and will for a heartbeat of time. He was taking no chances. This was his lifemate; he would ensure it with every means at his disposal, from blood bonding to mental sharing. No one was as powerful as he. This female child was his and his alone. He could hang on until she came of age.
“We did it, didn’t we?” Raven said softly, bringing Gregori back to his own body. “She’s a girl.”
Gregori stepped away from Raven, holding on to his composure with his great strength of will. “Few Carpathian women carry to full term. The child rarely survives the first year of life. Do not be so certain we are out of the woods. You must rest and be cared for. The child comes first. Byron would say so also. Mikhail must take you far from this place, away from the vampire and the assassins. I will hunt and rid our people of the danger while your mate looks after you.” Gregori’s voice was low and pitched in silver tones, tones of light that beckoned and danced. Nearly impossible to resist. So calm and soothing and reasonable.
Raven actually had to shake off the compulsion to do as he wished. She glared at him. “Don’t even try that with me, Gregori.” She included Mikhail in her stare. “And you, you big lunk, you would have gone along with him like the tree-swinging macho man you are. Watch these guys, Shea, they’re impossible. They’ll do anything to get their way.”
Shea found herself smiling. “So I’ve noticed.” It was reassuring to see that Raven had learned to hold her own with the men. Shea was every bit as strong.
“I can’t leave Byron out there to suffer the same fate as Jacques,” Raven insisted stubbornly. She looked beyond Gregori to Shea for support.
“We
can’t.”
Shea had seen firsthand what the human butchers were capable of, and she could no more leave Byron to such a fate than she could walk away from Jacques. She nodded in agreement. “Once we have Byron’s location, you men can go after him. I’ll stay with Raven, and we’ll wait for you here. The vampire can’t come out with the sun up, and we have guns if the humans show up.”
“In any case, Mikhail, you know you could protect us from humans, even from a distance,” Raven reminded him.
“Shea is right, healer.” Jacques suddenly threw his support to the women. He owed Byron. He could not allow anyone to suffer as he had. He glanced at Gregori. “You knew Raven and Mikhail were in trouble when their minds were connected to Byron’s. What is it? How does the vampire trap us?”
“He ensnared Raven and me through Byron, a monumental feat,” Mikhail admitted. Then he rubbed his jaw ruefully. “Is it
possible, little brother, you enjoyed hitting me just a bit too much?”
Jacques’ teeth gleamed white in the semblance of a smile. He could not help but admire Mikhail’s coolness in the midst of a threat as lethal as the healer’s and the vampire’s combined. To be able to joke, to put aside the ego of the Carpathian male, was nothing short of a miracle. Fragments of memory rushed over him, memories of greatness, of a powerful being dedicated to the preservation of their people. His arms crept around Shea, his anchor to reality, his bridge from his lost past to the present. Shea responded at once, so in tune with him she needed no second hint. She leaned into him immediately, flooding his mind with warmth and soothing comfort.
“There is a root,” Gregori explained. “One can grind it into a fine powder, mix it with two types of berries and sage. It is boiled until it becomes thick, all liquid evaporated, and the remaining gel is then mixed with the venom from a tree toad. I am positive the vampire is using it. The recipe is an ancient one and lost to all but those of us who studied alchemy and black magic. I know of only two others besides me who would have this knowledge.”
“Aidan,” Mikhail said softly. “Or Julian.”
“It cannot be,” Gregori denied. “I would feel their presence in our land. Even changed, I would know either of them.”
“What exactly does this drug do?” Shea asked. The identity of the vampire seemed secondary; she was far more intrigued with the results of such a mixture as Gregori described. She had studied plants and herbs extensively. Common ones like foxglove and rhododendrons could produce paralysis. She knew, too, that toad venom of itself could be lethal. Certain tribes in various parts of the world had discovered its properties and used it to tip their darts, spears, and arrows. Somehow the blend of root and berries and toxin must paralyze the nervous system, even affect the mind. “How is it administered?”
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