“There was nothing, no dirt, no protections,” a dark-haired foreigner said reluctantly. Mikhail recognized the man’s spoor. Assassin. One from the inn. Inside the rodent, the beast unsheathed its claws and flexed. They had murdered Noelle without even being certain she was what they sought.
“I know what I saw, Eugene,” Hans declared. “After Heidi left, the woman began to lose blood. I had arrived to walk Heidi home because the woods are dangerous. I was going to tell the husband I would bring Heidi back to help. He was very agitated and did not see me as I looked in. I saw it with my own eyes. She drank so much, he was weak and pale. I got out of there and contacted you immediately.”
Eugene nodded his head. “You did the right thing. I came as soon as I could and brought the others. If they’ve learned a way to whelp, we’ll be overrun with the devils.”
The largest man in the room stirred uncomfortably. “I’ve never heard of a vampire breeding. They kill the living to enlarge their ranks. They sleep in the ground and guard their lairs. You acted before we could investigate this thoroughly.”
“Kurt,” Eugene protested, “we saw the opportunity and we took it. And how come her body just disappeared? After we did it, we ran. The husband and child have not been seen since. We know the woman is dead—we killed her—yet there is no hue and cry over her death.”
“We must find the husband and child,” Hans decreed. “And any others, we must stamp them out.” He peered nervously out the warped glass into the night. He let out a low exclamation of alarm. “Look, Eugene—a wolf. That damn Dubrinsky protects them on his land. Someday they’re going to overrun our village and make off with the children.” He reached down for the old rifle propped against the wall.
Eugene jumped up. “Wait, Hans! Are you certain it’s a wolf? A real wolf? Why would a wolf be out of the woods and staring at your house?”
“Who is this Dubrinsky who keeps wolves?” Kurt demanded.
“He is of the Church,” Heidi hissed, shocked at the implication. “He is a good man, in church every Sunday. Father Hummer is one of his dearest friends. They often eat supper together and play chess. I have seen this with my own eyes.”
Hans waved her testimony aside. “Dubrinsky is the devil himself. See it out there, the wolf slinking in the bushes, watching the house?”
“I tell you, that’s not natural.” Eugene lowered his voice. “It’s one of them.”
“They couldn’t know it was us,” Hans denied, but he betrayed his fear with his trembling hands. He lifted the rifle to his shoulder.
“You’ll have to get it with the first shot, Hans,” Eugene warned.
The rodent raced across the floor into the bedroom and squeezed through the small crack. Mikhail burst from the rodent’s body, his mind reaching out into the night with a warning, shape-shifting as he ran, becoming a huge black wolf with burning eyes of vengeance.
He covered the ground in a rush, leaping at the smaller wolf’s body. As his heavier frame crashed into the smaller one, Mikhail felt fire exploding in his flesh. The smaller wolf slunk into the heavy woods. Although blood gushed from its hindquarters, the huge black wolf didn’t utter a cry, didn’t run away. Instead, the wolf turned its large head and stared at the house with two burning coals for eyes, staring with a promise. Vengeance. Retribution. The dark promise of death itself.
Mikhail. Raven’s sharp cry rang in his head.
The black wolf stared a moment longer, holding Hans Romanov in his power, and then it turned and simply vanished into the night. There was no way that any of the men would dare attempt to track it. The huge wolf had come out of nowhere, leaping to protect the smaller wolf. The black wolf was no ordinary wolf, and not one of them wanted to follow it into the timber.
Mikhail trotted to the safety of the deep forest before pain and loss of blood drove him to take his human form. He staggered, caught at a thick tree branch, and sat down abruptly.
Mikhail! Please! I know you’re hurt. Where are you? I can feel your pain. Let me come to you. Let me help you.
Behind Mikhail the bushes rustled. He didn’t bother to turn, knowing Byron was there, ashamed, embarrassed, filled with remorse. “Mikhail. God, I am sorry. Is it bad?”
“Bad enough.” Mikhail clamped his hand over the wound to stop the blood flowing so freely. “What were you doing there, Byron? It was madness, foolhardy.”
Mikhail. Raven’s fear and tears were filling his mind.
Be calm, little one. A scratch, no more.
Let me come to you. She was pleading with him, and it warmed his heart.
Byron tore a strip from his shirt and bound Mikhail’s thigh. “I am sorry. I should have listened to you, should have known you would be hunting. I thought . . .” He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.
“Thought what?” Mikhail prompted wearily. The wound hurt like hell and rich blood pumped from it. He felt sick and dizzy, and somehow he had to reassure Raven. She was striving to comfort him, to find him; she was even trying to “see” through his eyes. Stop it, Raven. Do as I say. I am not alone. One of my people is with me. I will be with you soon.
“I thought you would be so involved with that woman, you might not have time for the hunt.” Byron ducked his head. “I feel like such a fool, Mikhail. I was so worried about Eleanor.”
“I have never shirked my duties. The protection of our people has always come first.” Mikhail could not attempt to heal the wound with Raven dwelling in his mind.
“I know, I know.” Byron raked a hand through his chestnut hair. “After what happened to Noelle, I could not bear for the same thing to happen to Eleanor. And this was the first time you ever warned one of us off a woman.”
Mikhail managed a wry smile. “The experience is new to me. Until it is not quite so new and raw, it is best I keep her as close to me as possible. Right now she is arguing with me.”
Byron looked shocked. “She argues with you?”
“She has her own mind.” He allowed Byron to help him up.
“You are far too weak to shape-shift. And you will need blood and healing sleep.” Byron sent a call for Jacques.
“I dare not go deep. It would leave her unprotected. She wears my ring and bears my mark. One wrong move, and they would murder her.”
“We need you at full strength, Mikhail.” Whirling leaves like miniature tornadoes heralded Jacques’s arrival.
“Köd alte hän—Darkness curse it, Mikhail. What have you done?” Jacques swore softly under his breath as he knelt beside the prince. “You need blood, my brother,” he said, immediately beginning to unbutton his shirt.
Mikhail stopped him with a slight gesture. His eyes, world-weary, pain-filled, made a slow study of their surroundings. Byron and Jacques went still, senses flaring out, scanning the forest. “There is no one,” Jacques whispered softly.
“There is someone,” Mikhail corrected.
A low warning growl escaped Jacques’s throat as he instinctively placed his body in front of his prince. Byron was frowning, confusion on his handsome features. “I can detect nothing, Mikhail.”
“Nor can I, but we are being watched.” It was a statement so certain that neither Carpathian chose to dispute it. Mikhail never made a mistake.
“Summon Eric with a car,” Mikhail ordered and laid his head back to rest. Jacques was on the alert, and Mikhail trusted his judgment. He closed his eyes weakly, wondering where Raven had gone. She was no longer nagging at him; to maintain the contact, he would have had to use up precious energy, energy he couldn’t spare right now. Yet it worried him, her silence so unlike her.
The ride home in the car was excruciatingly painful. Mikhail’s body craved blood to replace what he had lost. His weakness was growing by the moment, the lines in his face deepening, etched with pain. He was an ancient, and all ancients felt emotions and physical wounds intensely. Normally he would simply have stopped his heart and lungs so that his blood would cease to flow. Then the healer would take over and the others would supply him
with what he needed.
Raven changed all that. Raven and whatever—or whoever—was watching them. He could still feel the uneasiness washing over him. He knew another studied them from a distance, even as they traveled the miles to his home.
“Mikhail,” Eric hissed as they aided him into the sanctuary of his house, “let me help you.”
Raven was at the door, taking in Mikhail’s pale features. He looked suddenly older than the thirty years she thought him. There were white lines around his mouth, but his mind was serene, his breathing even and relaxed. She stepped back silently to allow them entry.
She was hurt by Mikhail’s refusal to allow her to help him. If he preferred the company of his people, she was not going to be so undignified as to let them see that it bothered her. Small teeth bit at her lower lip, her fingers twisted together, and her eyes were anxious. She just had to see for herself that he was going to be well.
They carried Mikhail down to his sleeping chamber, Raven trailing after them. “Shall I call a doctor?” she inquired, already knowing the answer. She sensed they wanted her gone, that she was in the way somehow. Instinctively she knew that Mikhail would not receive the treatment he needed until she was gone.
“No, little one.” Mikhail held out his hand to her.
She went to him, lacing her fingers through his. He was always so strong, so physically fit, yet now he was pale and drawn. Raven felt close to tears. “You need help, Mikhail. Tell me what to do.”
His eyes, so black and cold, warmed instantly when his gaze settled on her face. “They know what to do. This is not my first wound, nor the worst I have received.”
A small, humorless smile touched her soft mouth. “This was the business you needed to do this evening?”
“You know I hunt those that murdered my sister.” He sounded tired and drained.
Raven hated arguing with him, but some things had to be said. “You told me you were just going out, nothing dangerous. It wasn’t necessary to lie to me about what you were doing. I know you’re the big hotshot around here, but this is what I do. I track killers. We were supposed to be partners, Mikhail. I could have helped you.”
Byron, Eric, and Jacques exchanged raised eyebrows. Byron mouthed the word hotshot. No one dared smile, not even Jacques.
“I did not deliberately speak an untruth. I merely went out to do a little investigating. Unfortunately, it turned into something altogether different. Believe me, I had no intention of getting hurt. A careless accident.”
Mikhail frowned, knowing he had hurt her, but there was little he could tell her about his people. “You have this penchant for getting yourself into trouble when I’m not with you.”
Raven’s smile did not quite reach her eyes. “How bad is your leg?”
“A scratch, no more, nothing for you to worry about.”
She was silent again, her blue eyes moving over his face with a faraway, pensive look, as if she had turned inward.
Mikhail felt something twisting deep in his gut. She had that look, the one that meant she was thinking too much again. It was the last thing he wanted when he lay wounded, forced to go to ground at the first opportunity. He did not want her pulling away from him, and there was something in her stillness that worried him. She couldn’t leave him. He knew that intellectually, but he didn’t want her to want to leave him, to even be able to think about it. “You are angry with me.” He made it a statement.
Raven shook her head. “No, I’m honestly not. Maybe disappointed in you.” She looked sad. “You said there could be no lies between us, yet at the first opportunity, you did lie to me.” For a moment her small teeth bit down hard on her lower lip. There was a sheen of tears in her eyes, but she blinked them away impatiently. “When you’re asking for so much trust, Mikhail, it seems to me you need to trust me as well. You should have had more respect for me, at least for my abilities. I hunt using a psychic link. I trail using someone else’s eyes. Some of your people are very sloppy and complacent. A few of you don’t even bother with mind blocks. All of you are so arrogant, it doesn’t occur to you that a human, not one of your superior race, can crawl inside your minds. You’ve got someone out there just like me, fingering your people for death. If I can get inside your minds, she can do it. My advice, for what it’s worth, is to take far more precautions.”
Raven stepped away from Mikhail’s placating outstretched hand. “I’m just trying to save your lives, not be vindictive.” It was only pride that was keeping her from falling apart. Already she felt the loss of him, of their unique closeness. Somehow she knew there would never be another man, another time in her life when she laughed and talked the way they had and was totally accepted and comfortable. “You don’t need to say anything else, Mikhail. I ‘saw’ your ‘little scratch’ firsthand. You were right; you weren’t alone out there—I was watching. Honesty in my language means truth.”
Raven took a deep breath, tugged off the ring, and laid it carefully, regretfully, on the small table beside the bed. “I’m sorry, Mikhail, I really am. I know I’m letting you down, but I don’t fit into this world of yours. I don’t understand it, or the rules. Please do me the courtesy of staying away, of not trying to contact me. We both know I’m no real match for you. I’m leaving on the first available train.”
She turned and started toward the door. It flew shut with a loud crash. She stared at it, not turning around. The air was thick with tension, with some dark feeling, one she couldn’t put a name to. “I don’t think it’s going to do any good to prolong this. You need help right now. Obviously however they intend to help you is some secret thing not to be shown to outsiders. I am just that—an outsider. Let me go home where I belong, Mikhail, and let them help you now.”
“Leave us,” Mikhail ordered the others.
“You need . . . ,” Eric began, but broke off under Mikhail’s black scowl. With a sigh he followed the others out and closed the door.
“Raven, come here to me, please. I am weak and it would take most of my strength to come to you.” There was gentleness in his voice, an honesty she found heartbreaking.
She closed her eyes against the power in his voice, the soft caressing tone that rubbed sensuously like black velvet over her skin and crawled into her body, wrapping itself around her heart. “Not this time, Mikhail. We not only live in two different worlds, we have two separate value systems. We tried—I know you wanted to—but I can’t do this. Maybe I never could have. It happened too fast and we don’t really know one another.”
“Raven.” Heat curled in her very name. “Come here to me.”
She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I can’t, Mikhail. If I let you get around me again, I’ll lose respect for myself.”
“Then I have no choice but to come to you.” He shifted his weight, using his hands to move his injured leg.
“No!” Alarmed, she whirled around. “Stop it, Mikhail. I’m calling the others back inside.” She pressed him back among the pillows.
His hand caught the nape of her neck with unexpected strength. “You are the only reason I am living right now. I told you I would make mistakes. You cannot give up on me, on us. You do know me, everything important. You can look into my mind and know I need you. I would never hurt you.”
“You have hurt me. This hurts. Those people out there are your family, your people. I’m from another country, a different race. This isn’t my home, and it never will be. Let me call them to you and just let me go.”
“You are right, Raven. I told you there would be no lies between us, yet I have this need to protect you from anything violent or frightening, anything that can hurt you.” His thumb moved over her delicate cheekbone, slid lower to caress her silken mouth. “Do not leave me, Raven. Do not destroy me. It would kill me if you left me.” His eyes were eloquent, persuasive, meeting hers unflinchingly, not attempting to hide the raw truth of his words from her, his total vulnerability.
“Mikhail,” she said softly in despair. “I look at you and
something deep within me says we belong together, you do need me, and I will never be complete without you. But I know it’s nonsense. I’ve lived most of my life on my own, and I was quite happy.”
“You were isolated, in pain. No one saw you, knew who you were. No one else could appreciate you or care for your needs as I can. Do not do this thing, Raven. Do not.”
His hand on her arm drew her inevitably closer. How could she resist Mikhail at his most tempting? It was too late, far too late. His mouth was already finding hers. His lips were cool, tender, so gentle it brought tears to her eyes. She rested her forehead against his. “You hurt me, Mikhail, really hurt me.”
“I know, little one, I am sorry. Please forgive me.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Is it really that easy?”
His thumb erased a tear trickling down her face. “No, but it is all I have to give you at this moment.”
“You need help, and I know I can’t be the one to help you. I’ll go. You can contact me when you feel up to it. I promise not to go anywhere until you’re better.”
“Put my ring back on your finger, Raven,” he said softly.
She shook her head, drew away from him. “I don’t think so, Mikhail. Let’s let things be for a while. Let me think things through.”
His hand caressed her nape, slid over her shoulder, down her arm until his fingers circled her wrist. “I need to sleep tomorrow, really sleep. I want you protected from these people.” He knew she would assume he meant that they would drug him.
Raven smoothed back the tangle of coffee-colored hair from his forehead. “I’ll be fine on my own, as I have been for years. You’re so busy looking after the world, you think there’s no one who is capable of looking after themselves. I promise you I won’t leave, and I promise I will be careful. I won’t go hiding in their closets or under their beds.”
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