The hard knot in the pit of his stomach unraveled. For the first time since she’d slipped out the bathroom window, he felt he could breathe normally. He smoothed the pleat between her brows with his thumb, pressing her into the shelter of his larger body, needing her softness to soothe his beast that howled in protest at the thought of her putting herself in danger. “It is not the Chosen way to barter our mates.”
“But for our daughter’s sake…”
“For any reason.” He did not like the set of her chin. Eden could be very stubborn. He tipped her face up to his. “You will leave the safety of my family where it belongs. With me.”
Tears washed the blue of her eyes, magnifying their brightness, catching flickers of the flames in their depths, for a split second giving the illusion of her being Chosen. Her nails snagged on his collarbone and her lids lowered. The illusion disappeared. “You can’t let them get her.”
Adrenaline surged through her system as memories swarmed her calm. Deuce checked the chemical flow and stroked her back, easing her tension. “I am a Chosen warrior, leader of my people with an army of Chosen and Others at my command. Who do you know better than the supernatural to protect her?”
She ducked his gaze. Her hand clenched into a fist. “She’s an outsider.”
He had to remind himself that she was human before he understood her point. “Any child of any race can approach a Chosen or Other and ask for sanctuary, and it will be given. Jalina differs only in that she does not have to ask.”
Edie shifted against him again. “Thank you.”
He brushed her hair back from her face, kissing her eyes closed, frowning when she could no longer see. The disharmony was beginning again. It had taken longer this time. Hopefully, a good sign. He sat up, taking her with him.
Bohdan, come.
He rested his hand on the small of Edie’s back, increasing the heat of her body before reflecting it back to ease the tension he could feel there. Her ribs and spine were nothing more than fragile impressions against his palm, lacking the density of a Chosen woman’s. With the smallest fraction of his strength, he could smash them to powder. She was small and delicate and totally unaware of her vulnerability. He traced her lower rib with his thumb. She thought of herself as strong, yet even a human male could kill her with a blow. He would have to guard her very carefully.
The first shiver started deep within, more of a sensation of cold. Beneath his hand, she stiffened. He couldn’t blame her. He wrapped the comforter around her and cradled her in his lap.
“Oh God.”
Her fear tore at him. He should be able to spare her this. “It will not be so bad this time.” He would not allow the statement to be a lie. The next shudder had her head snapping against his chest.
Her accusation of “Op…tim…ist” broke into three syllables under the force of her shudders. The reaction might have started later, but it was coming on stronger.
Deuce pulled the comforter up over her shoulders. “Bohdan will be here soon.”
Her fingers dug into his shoulder. “Don’t let him do that to me again.”
“We must.”
She shook her head and another quake hit her. “It’s wrong.”
He looked up as Bohdan came through the door, the healing bag swinging ominously in his hand. The contents of the bag were only required in the most dire of circumstances. “It was what was done before.”
“Nothing they did could be right.”
“You conceived under their care.”
“A fluke.” Another shudder. Deuce caught her jaw in his hand to keep her neck from snapping violently. Her “It had to be” was muffled by his hand and the stress being put on her body.
He didn’t argue with her. He was more concerned with the results.
“You did not allow her more than she could handle?” Bohdan asked, putting the bag on the table beside them.
For the second time in his life—for the first time since he had lost Edie last year— Deuce felt shame. “I did not think so, but my control is not what it should be with her.” She had only to be near him and a host of emotions he could not control, and could not predict, swamped him with powerful, alien demands.
Bohdan opened the bag and took out the syringe. “How much?”
“She took me twice.”
“Did you take her blood?”
“Only a couple drops.”
He was glad Eden could not understand the swear word that tore from Bohdan’s mouth. “I should take her from you.”
“You would die trying.” It worried Deuce that he meant it. While he’d always known he would be bonded to his mate and responsible for her care, he had not expected the primitiveness of his reaction to her presence.
Bohdan gave no sign that he’d heard the threat. He knelt beside Edie. “I am sorry your evening is not going well.”
“Me, too.”
Edie’s irrepressible humor, even in her misery, drew a lightening to Bohdan’s stern mouth.
“I need to touch you.”
“I know.”
The calmness of her response did not communicate the terror Deuce felt pouring into her. “You will concentrate on me and relax,” Deuce told her. “I will not allow the pain to touch you.”
“No.” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Too much.”
Too much for whom? He could and would do whatever it took. She was his. “It is my duty.”
Bohdan reached for his arm. The needle flashed in the firelight. Edie slapped at Bohdan’s hand, almost stabbing herself in the process. The curse Bohdan muttered was not polite as Edie shoved the needle away. “No transfusion.”
Bohdan glanced at him, a question in his dark eyes. Deuce shook his head, steadying Edie as she twisted for better leverage, apparently operating under the assumption that her muscles were a match for his brother’s. Her heart was beating too fast. Adrenaline pumped into her system at an alarming rate. Deuce reduced both before saying, “You will do what Bohdan commands.”
Edie shot Bohdan a glare, set her chin in that stubborn line, and then turned her glare on him. “No.”
Deuce tipped her face up to his, the tremors shaking her body traveled through his hand. How she expected to win this argument he had no idea. It was taking all her strength to keep from shaking apart. “I will force you if I have to.”
Her eyes narrowed further, her anger projecting as clearly as her dare. He ignored both. Her displeasure was nothing in the face of her loss. He nodded the go-ahead to Bohdan, turned his arm out and said, “I will not lose you, my heart.”
Bohdan slid his hand under the quilts. The implied intimacy had Deuce’s fangs springing into his mouth before the thought formed. Bohdan paused, casting him a questioning glance. Deuce beat back the animal inside that raged at the sight of Bohdan’s hands touching his mate, even for the purpose of examination.
It took four steadying breaths through his nose to find calm, focusing all his energy on mastering the primitive demand that he sever his brother’s hands for the affront. Finally the rage settled under the force of his determination, and the soft touch of Edie’s hand. At the arch of his brother’s brow, he nodded his consent. He would control his impulses around Edie. And she would not die.
Edie fought. To her credit, despite the shock her body was enduring, despite the turmoil inside, she fought hard enough to make Bohdan’s assessment difficult.
Allow her some pain.
Every instinct screamed no. Despite the logic of the move, despite the fact that doing so could save her life, he could not do it. It was as if he were two men, one rational and one primal, when it came to Edie. Of the two, the more primitive was the stronger. The logic of Bohdan needing her mental resistance weakened by the distraction of pain did not matter. It was impossible to send any amount of agony to that delicately made, vitally important body.
I cannot.
Bohdan did not waste time arguing with him or censuring him. He nodded. Deuce felt his understanding a second before his b
rother’s mind went blank. In the next split second, Edie screamed as pain raced up from her thigh, racing from her mind to his. He caught it, managed it and took it into himself even as he sliced at his brother with his claws, going for the throat but meeting air instead for the simple reason that Bohdan was no longer there. Deuce lay Edie on the floor, and sprang to his feet, placing himself between her and the threat. Bohdan stood ten feet away, frowning down at Edie as she lay on the carpet. The only indication that he was prepared to battle was the way he balanced on the balls of his feet, and the slight surge of power shimmering around him in challenge.
Deuce bared his fangs. “You will die for that.”
Bohdan shrugged, his frown deepening as Edie shook and moaned on the floor. “I did what you could not.”
Knowing it was necessary did not appease Deuce’s rage. Bohdan looked up. The depth of sympathy in his eyes and his next words tore the rage from Dusan’s soul and replaced it with terror.
“She is dying, brother.”
“Impossible.” He went back to her side. “She was better after this morning.”
“And now she is worse.” He motioned with his hand. “The blood sustained her organs, but now they collapse at twice the rate. She cannot accept the change as she is.”
“I gave her too much.” Guilt rolled through him in an agony of condemnation. He had lost control, let her seduce the beast to prominence. He touched her cheek, his finger starkly dark against her unhealthy pallor. He could feel her fear and desperation through her despair, felt her jaw muscles tighten with the effort to control the shaking. Deuce met his brother’s gaze. “If she goes, know I will follow.”
That certainty came from deep within. The bond was not complete, but strong enough that there was no question. He would not allow her to pass to the other side alone and unprotected.
Bohdan nodded, as calm as ever. “It is expected.”
Edie’s nails sunk into Deuce’s wrist. Her No slammed into his mind while a hoarse hiss of sound passed her lips.
“The baby.” She struggled to sit up. “Promise.”
He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to promise he would live for their daughter. He could not. Their bonding was too new and the emotions too strong for him to promise he would survive the despair of her loss this time. He lifted her shoulders off the floor, shocked at the strength of the muscle spasm that shook her. Much harder and her joints would be in danger. He could feel her strength of will, her determination to wrest this one promise from him before she gave up. He would not allow her to give up. “I cannot give you what you want.”
Deuce closed his eyes and sought the link between them, matching his heart rate to hers, his soul to hers, his life force to hers. In the final moments, he would mate his mind to hers, completing the process.
Bohdan knelt beside them, his voice a stroke of calm amidst the turmoil of Edie’s agony and her body’s collapse. “It is my privilege as Jalina’s uncle to see to her safety in the event of your loss.”
Eden looked from him to Bohdan. Her protest came from her soul, the agonized scream of a mother whose last hope had been torn away. A mental cry that had even Bohdan flinching. The need in Deuce to see to her anguish was equally primal. The only thing that kept him from responding was the even more aggressive demand that she not die. He would use anything that he could to keep her with him. Even if it meant letting her believe her daughter would be defenseless in the wake of her death.
Edie’s nails raked his forearm. The scent of his blood filled the air.
His hair slid over her shoulder to land against her chest. She grabbed it and pulled his face to hers. “You…have…to live.” The order hit his face in disjointed puffs.
He cupped his hand behind her head and supported her when she would have dropped back. Her breath was shallow and rapid. Her pulse laboring. “Then you must live.”
She grimaced. “The baby.”
“Will either have both of us, or neither of us.”
“Unfair.”
He shrugged, his strength draining right along with hers. A Chosen would have recognized what he had done. His mate had no idea.
Bohdan’s “If you are done establishing who dies when, maybe we could talk about her life” snapped his head up.
“You said she is dying.”
“She is. She cannot sustain a slow conversion.”
“There is no other way.”
“There is one.”
Deuce would do whatever it took. “How?”
Bohdan touched Edie’s cheek, the gesture uncommonly tender for him. “A total drain.”
“It is forbidden.”
“Yes. For good reason.” Bohdan’s hand dropped to the floor. “Rarely does anyone survive.”
Any chance was a chance.
“Deuce?” Edie’s voice was weak, but still there. That was all that mattered.
“What?”
Her hand slid down his arm, her fingers fumbled with his, bumping and tangling before slipping between his. The squeeze he had no doubt she meant to be strong, was barely felt. He curled his fingers around hers. His gaze met hers. There was nothing fragile about her determination. “Do it.”
“It is dangerous.”
“I’m…dying.”
“Painful.”
“Still dying.” That twist of her lips was a caricature of her normal wry grin.
Bohdan interrupted the discussion with the unvarnished truth, shielding neither of them from the reality. “It may not work and in the end you still might die after great suffering.”
Edie cut him a wry glance, gritted her teeth as she shivered and groaned. “Like this…is a…picnic.”
“This is not a joke.”
“I dis…agree. Getting bad enough to become…one.”
Bohdan shook his head and touched her hair, admiration in the light contact, regret heavy in his voice. “The choice is your mate’s.”
She moaned. Deuce caught her close as she buried her face in his chest. Her “Make it” was a high-pitched squeak of distress. Her pain was getting too deep for him to shield her from without penetrating her barriers. Which would kill her.
He had to shift her in his arms, the continuous shaking making her a stiff weight. Soon the shudders would escalate to convulsions. She had borne so much. Her fingers tightened on his as her head dropped back. Her eyes closed. Deuce looked at the fragile stem of her throat, the white skin, delicate muscles, and felt the burden of his duty.
It was his responsibility to make the best choice for her. He could let her die in relative peace. That would be kind. Or he could make a desperate play for life, putting her through what legend said was unbearable pain to more than likely have her die anyway, with her last moments unimaginable agony that he had inflicted.
Choose life.
He glanced across Eden’s unconscious body at Bohdan who stared back at him.
“She would choose to be with her daughter.”
“She does not know how it will be.”
“She survived the Coalition’s torture, freed her daughter and climbed a mountain in a storm to get her to you. She would not care.”
“I cannot help but care. Logic does not enter into it.”
“I know.”
Deuce held Eden closer, cherishing the signs of life despite her unconscious state.
“What does the drain involve?”
“You will take her blood to the point of deprivation.”
It could not be that simple. “And?”
“Her blood is tainted. It might kill you.”
“It will not.” He would not allow it. Not with her life being the price for failure.
“You will purify it in your body, then give it back.”
“How will she survive without blood?”
“I will keep her alive.”
He could not imagine the toll that would take on Bohdan. Tales were much longer of the healers who had died trying to support two lives with one force, than those of the ones who had s
ucceeded. “You are too valuable to our people to risk.”
The pause in Bohdan as he stripped out of the confinement of his clothes was infinitesimal. “Who else has a chance of succeeding?”
No one. There was no other healer with Bohdan’s skill and strength. The worry for Eden mushroomed into worry for his brother. Bohdan had been growing more distant of late. He suspected Bohdan was willing to do this for no other reason than that he did not care if he saw another moon rise.
“Our people cannot be without both of us.”
Bohdan took the sacred candles from the bag and laid them out in the pattern of healing. “Then we had best not fail.” He waved his hand. The candles lit and the familiar scent of rasha drifted into Deuce’s turmoil, instilling calm.
“You will need help.” To succeed in this Bohdan would need a steady supply of blood, monitoring. Possible intervention.
“The Chosen await your decision.”
Deuce did not doubt that his people would support him. They would do so for the same desperate reason that he would let them. They could not bear another loss, and the joy and hope his daughter brought to their long desperate lives was unimaginable. They would fight to their last drop of blood to keep that hope alive. Edie moaned and shifted as Bohdan began to chant. Her hair fell across Deuce’s arm, the long tangle of curls wrapping around his wrist, binding them together in a vibrant shimmering link. That primitive corner of his soul that came vividly alive in her presence roared for life despite the preponderance of logic that said to let her go in peace. He sighed and increased the depth of her breaths. “When you were with her, did you feel like there was another inside you?”
Bohdan pulled out the red ochre paint and very carefully put it on the floor. Too carefully. “Yes.”
“And he ruled?”
“Sometimes.” He closed the bag with care, as if by controlling the things around him, he could control the pain inside. “Being human, she seemed to understand that part of me better.”
“Your mate was human?” He had not known that. Only that she had died so Bohdan could live. It was a hard gift for his brother to live with.
“Yes.”
“Would you do this?”
Conception Page 18