Dark Sentinel

by Christine Feehan

  She’d done so at a young age when her parents had entered her in tournaments. Sometimes she’d been the victor. Sometimes she’d been defeated. Always, she’d gotten back to her feet when an opponent had knocked her down, swept her legs out from under her or pinned her to the ground. She’d been born with that trait and she’d developed it almost daily in the way her parents had raised her. They lived a life of discipline and expected her to do the same.

  “The others are returning. Those that did not feed from Adam and Herman had to go hunting,” Andor said reluctantly.

  He wanted more time with her. He needed more time with her alone. He was forced to block pain from his woman. Even so, if she looked too close in his mind, he knew she would find it there. He silently cursed the fact that he’d taken on all seven vampires. He had known going into it that he would be torn to shreds and possibly killed, but it hadn’t mattered. Only destroying the undead mattered. He had no idea he was fated to meet his lifemate and would come close to taking her with him.

  Once she had bound her soul to his, and the others had joined, in order to save him, all their lives had been at risk. He knew Sandu and Ferro had done so because he was their brother—not of blood but as close or closer. Two centuries could produce that kind of loyalty. Gary had joined them. A healer so skilled, so rare, it would be a huge loss to the Carpathian people, and yet, like Gregori, his older brother, he was a warrior and hunted the undead. To save another Carpathian, Gregori would have gone to the lengths Gary had, risking his own life.

  Andor was certain there was another reason altogether as well. Gary had the fighting skills of a long line of ancient warriors. Few would be able to defeat him in a battle. He also had an enormous IQ and was a battle strategist. By tying himself to Andor, Ferro and Sandu, he was assured that there were ancient warriors who could track him should he ever succumb to whispers of temptation. He had now exchanged blood with all of them. They would be able to find him wherever he was in the world.

  “Why are you frowning?” She slid off his lap and stood up slowly. Almost reluctantly.

  Andor appreciated that she didn’t want to end their time alone together. He felt the same way. “I was not frowning.” He wore a mask on his expressionless face. He kept his features looking like stone so none could read him, yet she had so easily.

  “I’m in your mind. There was a frown.”

  “Technically, sívamet, that is cheating. You have to learn to read my expressions.”

  “You don’t have expressions. Nor do you have ‘tells,’ little movements you make before you say or do something. I’m very good at reading my opponents. I trained myself to stay out of their minds and just read body language. You don’t give anything away.”

  He stood as well and saw her eyes widen in shock. She hadn’t noticed how tall or muscular he was until that moment. He liked the look on her face. She was easy to read right then—she liked what she saw. He held out his hand. She took it without hesitation, and he threaded his fingers through hers. She waited, not moving. He didn’t move, either. Once they took that step that brought them out of the brush and trees, it was no longer just them.

  He pulled her farther into the shelter of the trees. “I need to kiss you.”

  “I know. I feel it, too,” she said, but he didn’t hear agreement in her voice. There was trepidation, not agreement.

  “Csecsemõ, what is it?”

  The tip of her tongue touched her lower lip. “If you kiss me, there isn’t any going back.”

  Now he did frown. Openly. “Back from what, Lorraine? I have claimed you as my lifemate. There is no going back from that. I will always need to be with you. You will always need to be with me. One cannot take that back. Our souls are woven together.”

  She nodded, that adorable frown on her face matching his much more scowling one.

  “I’m aware of the ramifications of what you did. I felt the difference when you said your vows. How you could manage to weave our souls together just by your one-sided vow, I don’t know. If things were equal, a woman should have to recite them with you.”

  He tugged her a step closer. “A woman in our world did not need to say the vows for the binding ritual to work. It is the male who would turn vampire and lose all honor after centuries of hunting and keeping his people safe. Of course, his woman would want to bind herself to him in order to save him.”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “If he’s an arrogant man who wants to boss her all the time, maybe not, and don’t tell me some of your brethren aren’t a bit—or a lot—like that because I know two who are.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, because he knew more than two. He might even be counted among that lot, although he wasn’t going to enlighten her. She’d learn that soon enough. “I will concede your point, Lorraine, but you haven’t told me what will happen when I kiss you.”

  Her tongue once more moistened her lower lip, stirring his body beyond belief that just that small action could affect him so deeply. He had to suppress a groan of need. His skin felt too tight, his cock ached and every nerve ending seemed alive. She gave a shake of the head. Her hair went flying, swinging in all directions and then settling down her back and around her shoulders like a living cape.

  He dared to tug her a step closer. He had managed to gain a step toward her as well so now only inches separated them. He felt the heat of her body and inhaled the fragrance that was all Lorraine. On waking, he had waved his hand to give her the same freshness that he had when rising. He remembered the first scent of her, the first touch of her hair against his fingers. Every detail of her. He paid attention to those things because she mattered to him more than anything or anyone else on the earth.

  “Tell me, sívamet.”

  “I want to kiss you, Andor. I think about it a lot. But, I know when I do, I will want you to bring me into your world because I would want more than one lifetime with you.”

  His heart jumped in his chest, began to beat faster. He wanted that, too. A thousand lifetimes wouldn’t be enough for him. “Is this a bad thing?”

  “I thought if I talked to the other women, the lifemates who had chosen to become Carpathian, they could tell me if they felt they’d made the right choice. It isn’t like I can go back to being human, right?”

  “No, once you make that decision, it is done. Your human body dies and you become fully Carpathian. I know the other women will say they made the right choice. They love their lifemates. You know they will say it as well.”

  “It isn’t about that, Andor. I know I’ve fallen quite hard for you. It’s difficult to see into your mind and not fall for you. I also see the repercussions of the sun on you. I love the sun. I lie out in the sun without my clothes and sunbathe. I swim without clothes, letting the sun kiss me through the water. I love the way it looks on the plants during the day. Some flowers don’t even open at night. I spent time in my garden, planting and weeding and waiting for spring so the flowers would come up and open. The blossoms are spectacular in the daylight. All those colors.”

  “You will still see in color.”

  “But they don’t shine like that at night.”

  He pulled her all the way into his arms. “You are just scared, and I do not blame you. I am going to kiss you anyway. You know you have made up your mind. I see it. I see your resolution.”

  “Then you see that I have a tiny part of me still holding back. This has to be a one hundred percent, all-in decision.”

  He caught her chin in his palm and lifted her face. Those green eyes haunted him. So beautiful. He hadn’t known he loved the color green so much. His thumb slid gently over her cheek because he needed to feel the softness of her skin. He ached to taste her lips, the color of a wild rose, not quite a red, not quite a pink, but inviting. Tempting.

  “I am one hundred percent all-in, Lorraine. I belong with you. To you. All of me. Whether I live as a Carp
athian or a human, I choose to live beside you.” He meant every word. He knew others of his brethren would bind their women to them and take this choice for them. Lorraine was not a woman to accept that. Ever. She needed to go through her process, even if that meant he had to wait. He had waited centuries. He had bound them together with the ritual words and after learning why, for him, it had been necessary, she had accepted it.

  She had accepted the fact that he was upset with her for becoming bait for vampires, to lure them in so the ancients could destroy them. Once he had explained, she had understood the reasons for his objections. She had even conceded she might have made other choices if she’d had all the information.

  It had been Lorraine who had insisted on the first full blood exchange, stepping one foot into his world. She was coming to him slowly. Making those decisions and feeling in control. She had to know that her opinion mattered to him and that any conclusion she came to would be honored by him. That was what lifemate meant. Other women would be different because they held other men’s souls for them.

  Ferro, he knew, could never live with a woman like Lorraine. It was clear he respected her, but she would never be his lifemate. Sandu was more like Ferro than Andor, which was always odd to Andor. They had shared the monastery for centuries and had come to know each other very well. In another life, Sandu would have a sense of humor far more than any of the others, but he would be stricter with his woman—his protective streak dictating what was acceptable to him and what wasn’t. Isai was always an enigma to them all. He was much more difficult to read. Dragomir was somewhere in between Sandu and Andor. That left the two brethren helping to guard Tariq. Benedek and Petru. He shook his head. Modern women would have a difficult time with any of them, Andor included.

  “Csecsemõ, I need to kiss you.” They both knew he was going to kiss her.

  Her lashes fluttered, drawing his attention. The breeze was cool on the heat of his skin. Somewhere close, a mouse scurried in the leaves, and the flutter of wings told him an owl was close. He heard a fox bark a distance away. Overhead, stars broke through the faint light as darkness settled a midnight-blue color over the sky. He would never forget anything about this night, not even the smallest detail.

  He bent his head and brushed his mouth with exquisite gentleness over hers. His cock jerked hard and unexpectedly. His heart clenched in his chest and then accelerated, beating hard. Hot blood rushed through his veins, pooling low. His lips kissed hers, one corner, then the other. His teeth found her bottom lip and nipped, using the same gentleness.

  Her lips were soft. Firm. Cool. Heating fast. When his teeth nipped and tugged, she gasped and opened her mouth. His tongue slid in, tasting her. It was there for him, just like in her blood, that miraculous flavor that was all Lorraine. He wanted to define it, but couldn’t take the time; he was swept away, exploring, claiming, leading so she would follow.

  She answered him tentatively, her tongue chasing his into his mouth, sliding along it, tangling and teasing, exploring just as he had done. He touched her mind, wanting to feel what she was feeling. That taste of his, so perfect for her. She liked kissing him.

  I love kissing you, she corrected.

  He pulled her closer, his arms locked tightly around her. His mouth taking command again, kissing her over and over. His hands slid up her back and then framed either side of her face, holding her there, while he savored every touch of her fingers, the taste and texture of her, and that wondrous taste that would forever be only his.

  I didn’t know it would be like this.

  He hadn’t known, either, otherwise, as wounded as he was, he would have been kissing her earlier. I will never have enough of this. Kissing you is amazing.

  Apparently, it is also distracting. Sandu’s voice could be heard by both. We have to go. And we need your votes on what to do with these slaves of the undead. So, stop doing what you are doing and come back here.

  Andor didn’t pull away immediately. His woman deserved more than that. He cooled the kiss from burning to hot and then brushed a dozen kisses over her mouth and down her chin to her throat.

  Shouldn’t we go? There was a hint of amusement in her mind.

  Sandu is an ass. Because she had a sense of humor about their kisses being interrupted, he found his, too. But I suppose we should go help them figure it out. We might be the only ones with brains.

  Clearly yours has short-circuited, Sandu persisted. You might wait to kiss your woman in the safety of the compound, not out here where the crows gather.

  10

  Andor was intimidating up close and he could kiss like an angel—or devil. The man was temptation itself. She was used to men who seemed powerful and maybe even a little dangerous. She lived in the world of martial arts. The men were physically fit, often in jobs that put their lives in jeopardy, and could definitely protect themselves and their loved ones. Andor was in an entirely different category—a scary one.

  As long as he’d been lying prone, his chest and belly torn open, she hadn’t really been nervous. She’d been the one taking care of him. Now, even though she knew those injuries were not fully healed, she could see his raw power and the danger that clung to him with every move he made. She’d seen that in the others, but not him, not really.

  He was all muscle. Authority. A clear threat. She knew he was a predator. She’d seen it when she’d first met him, but now it was stamped into every line of his body. She’d tied herself to that—to someone capable of things she had no real idea of. Watching battles unfold like a movie in his mind was far different than experiencing the real thing.

  On top of everything else, he was seriously hot. Not just gorgeous. Not just good-looking, he was so hot she could barely look at him. He had a quality she couldn’t put her finger on, but it was powerful and drew her like a magnet. To her, he was spellbinding, mesmerizing. With Andor around, she would never see any other man.

  He kissed like a creature from another world. She’d been kissed—or thought she had until that moment. No one compared to him. To his taste. To the way he held her. The way his mouth was so commanding. He wasn’t even one hundred percent healed and he already had stolen her body with just his kisses. She couldn’t imagine kissing another man after him and being satisfied.

  He tugged on her hand until she fit beneath his shoulder. She put one arm around his waist and the other hand—the one he’d been holding—very lightly on his waist. She was afraid of pressing against one of his injuries.

  “Is Gary going to work on you this evening?” She knew the healer hadn’t had a chance. The moment Andor had risen, he’d come to her.

  “No. He will do so when we reach the compound.”

  That made her uneasy. Andor was on his feet, but his wounds should have killed him. They’d fought to bring him back from that place between the living and the dead, and he wasn’t healed. Traveling would be difficult, especially if a fight ensued.

  “Maybe he should try now.”

  “He would be too weak to travel,” Andor said. “We would not attempt this if I was not ready, sívamet.”

  They reached the others waiting by Adam and Herman. The two men looked more confused than ever the moment they saw her.

  Adam blinked rapidly as she approached him with an outstretched hand. “That water bottle was my brother’s and I would like it back.”

  Andor caught her wrist and pulled her arm down as if the two men might be cobras and about to strike her. He held out his hand while turning his body protectively to shield her from the two human males.

  “I’m sorry,” Adam said. “I don’t remember very much of how I got here or why I have this. I didn’t steal it.” He handed the bottle over to Andor immediately.

  “You came here to either kill or hand my woman over to a vampire,” Andor explained.

  His tone was hard, and Lorraine couldn’t help but look up at him. She’d never heard him
use that particular voice. He didn’t sound in the least sympathetic. I feel sorry for them, Andor. They clearly don’t have a clue to what’s going on.

  Really? Andor caught her chin and looked into her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She could get lost in those eyes, the color of midnight, a velvet violet mixed with a dark, dark blue. They have memories. Do not be fooled because they are human.

  She didn’t want to look into their memories. She’d taught herself at a young age that it was wrong to intrude on other people’s privacy. Everyone had secrets, even if they were secret thoughts, and no one wanted others to know what they were. She shook her head.

  They chose to work for Sergey. They are psychic males he found through the Morrison Center. He contacted them and offered them immortality in exchange for their services—meaning whatever he asked them to do. He asked them to get you to bring them inside the safeguards so they could invite the puppet inside. Of course, they did not realize the payment would be the puppet—their friend—eating them alive. Sergey will not bring human psychics into his world unless he intends to make them members of his army. These two would never have made that cut.

  Why do you say that? He sounded so matter-of-fact when he was talking about two men losing their lives in a horrendous way. She’d loved that he was so calm and pragmatic, but now, with the lives of Adam and Herman on the line, she wanted him to be emotional—like she knew she was being.

  They did not like their assignment and questioned it, both of them. Once they saw their friend as a puppet, they were horrified. Neither wanted to continue, but of course, they had no choice in the matter. They had been programmed.

  See? She jumped on that. They have good in them. They can be saved.

  They can never be trusted. They wanted immortality enough to agree to deliver a woman into the hands of a vampire. They knew at the time of the agreement exactly what they were doing in exchange. Sergey likes to make certain his people are aware of what he is.