"How can I explain such a thing? I know little of Carpathians and lifemates. Perhaps once you have your lifemate, that too is restored to you." She dragged her blouse to her and slid it on. "You ruined the buttons."
Impatient, he waved his hand, and she found herself, not in her own clothes, but a cotton T-shirt and jeans. Jeans. Not the dress he'd asked her to wear for him, but the trousers he didn't like. She swallowed fear, trying not to cry as she began to braid the long, thick mane of hair, needing something to do to escape his cold gaze. They'd just shared something few, if any, would ever experience in a lifetime, and he was rejecting her, pushing her away. It felt like a slap in the face.
"You were going to bite me," he said. "I saw it in your mind."
She pushed back away from him until her back was against the railing. "Was I? I wanted to, yes. But then, I saw that you intended the same. You took my blood and wanted me to take yours. You wanted to bring me fully into your world, and you wouldn't have asked me. You were going to make the decision without my consent."
"You are my lifemate. I do not need your consent." There was dark emotion flickering in his eyes. Little amber lights began to glitter through the pure black obsidian.
Anger pulsed through her. "You know what? I don't need your consent to leave, and I'm going back to the house." She stood up, and her hands gripped the rail when he stood up, too. He towered over her, looking every inch a predator.
"Actually, you do need my permission. And you will stay here and hear what I have to say. I want to know the truth, MaryAnn."
She narrowed her gaze on him. "You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the butt."
"You did bite me. And I took your blood on several occasions."
She tilted her head at him. "Is that my fault? I didn't ask you to. In fact I didn't even know the first time you did it."
"What are you?"
"A very pissed-off woman."
He stepped closer to her, so close she could feel the heat of his anger. "You are werewolf. And you are infecting me with your blood."
Chapter Fifteen
MaryAnn stared at him for several long seconds, and then she began to laugh. "You are totally crazy."
Manolito didn't look in the least amused. If anything, his expression hardened even more. "I am not crazy. I smell the wolf in you, and if you are honest with yourself, you can smell it all over me."
She shook her head, but the laughter faded. "This is insane. I know Carpathians are shapeshifters. I'm not. I've lived my entire life as a human being. My parents aren't werewolves. I doubt such a thing exists."
"Why would you doubt it when you have seen jaguar-men and vampires? When you know the Carpathian people exist? Why should you have trouble believing in werewolves?"
Perspiration beaded on his forehead. Carpathians sweated blood, she noted. He brushed at his temples.
"Then where are they? And if they really exist, and I'm one of them, why didn't you recognize it sooner?" The sweating blood thing was eww, and she so wasn't becoming Carpathian. She'd much rather be a wolf!
"Because I have not seen or heard of the lycans for centuries."
She put her hands on her hips. "So let me get this straight. You were all in love with me and ready to turn me into a Carpathian when you thought I was human, but now it's different because I might be turning you into something else." She raised her chin another inch in challenge. "What you mean is, it's perfectly okay for me to give up who and what I am, but not so much for you."
He frowned at her. "I was born to be Carpathian. It is who and what I am."
She pressed a hand to her churning stomach. "You hypocritical male chauvinist, Neanderthal, asinine idiot. I must have been out of my mind to think I could live with someone like you."
He waved her opinion of him aside. "We are lifemates. Of course I will do whatever is necessary to complete the conversion and bring you to my side completely, but I have to study this problem from every angle. I have never heard of a werewolf and a Carpathian mating. The blood of the wolf is as powerful as the blood of the Carpathian."
"I don't shapeshift."
"The wolf lives within you, part of you. It is not the same way I take another form. The wolf is your guardian and will emerge when needed. You have felt him close to you. That is why you have flashes of memory. And it is why both of us can take the early morning sunlight. Only my eyes were affected by the sunlight, not my entire body. You have not burned in the sun in spite of the fact that my blood flows in your veins. The change should have already begun to take hold."
"And you think I've known all along and somehow have tricked you? If there is a wolf in me, now is the time for it to come leaping out. I just might go for your throat." Furious, she shoved at his chest to move him out of her way. "You should hear yourself. Do you really think I'd want to spend the rest of my life with a man who has no regard for my feelings?"
"I have every regard for your feelings."
"Right! Which is why you accused me of 'infecting,' " she spat the word in a fury, "you! Like what I am is some taint. Some disease. You know what, Manolito De La Cruz? You deserve to be stuck in hell. And I'm an idiot for even thinking a relationship with you could be anything more meaningful than hot sex."
She went to the edge of the deck and, gripping the rail, looked down. She'd jumped once, but now it seemed a very long way. The thing inside her, the wolf, he suspected, stirred, recognizing her anger. She swallowed the sudden fear in her throat and turned back to him, her heart pounding hard enough for him to hear it. Her own head was beginning to hurt, a buzzing sound, like thousands of insects driving her crazy, reverberated through her mind. Her skull felt too tight, and her brain began to pulse and throb in time to the surge of blood rushing in her veins.
"You know." He made it a statement. "You were fully aware of my taking your blood. You wanted to take mine. You wanted the taste of me in your mouth. Hot and sweet and bursting with life. That is not human behavior."
"You made me want that." It came out in a whisper. She pressed her hand to her churning stomach. Between rage and fear she should have found some kind of balance, but all she felt was disoriented, swinging back and forth.
"I did not. I did not force your compliance. The call of the wolf was on you."
MaryAnn turned away from him, her heart pounding. Everything was making sense. It shouldn't be. She couldn't accept what he was saying. She didn't want a wolf inside of her. She didn't even know what that meant, or how it was possible. "Take me back." She didn't look at him, couldn't face him. She felt very alone. "I want to go back now." Feeling alone made her angry all over again. When he'd faced his worst moment, she had stood with him, but he rejected her. Rejected her.
"You have completely closed yourself off from me."
"You idiot!" She wanted to leap across the deck and smack his face. Was he really that obtuse? Taking a deep breath, she forced herself back under control. "Did you hear me? I asked you to take me back." Because she was going home. As fast as she could get back to Seattle, where life was normal and she didn't have wild cravings for idiot from centuries gone past.
"MaryAnn, neither of us has a choice. We have to work this out."
Her chin came up, dark eyes glittering at him. "I have a choice. I refuse to have my life taken out of my hands. You rejected me when you thought I was changing you from being a precious Carpathian. As far as I'm concerned, you've forfeited every right to me as your lifemate. I asked you to take me home. And I was polite about it." She wasn't feeling so polite now. Her nails were digging into her palm. The buzzing in her head grew louder. Her mouth felt coated in copper.
"I did not reject you."
"Really? Well, as far as I'm concerned, you're a coward. You want me to take all the risks. You want me to become something unknown and frightening, and I have to accept it because fate somehow decreed we should be together. Well, I refuse to be with anyone who insists on me risking everything, but he won't risk anything at all. Take me ho
me now."
It was a command, a compulsion, and for the first time, she realized she had not just thought it—or said it. She had thrown the command into his mind, furious with his double standard. Furious with herself for letting him take her over. More frightened than she'd ever been in her life, because she suspected there was no turning back and that even if she made it home, whatever was inside of her would refuse to quiet.
She was psychic, just as they all had said. She had been using her ability all along, without being aware of it. She looked up at him, and her breath caught in her throat. He was looking down at her, black eyes glittering with menace. He was every bit as furious as she was, and much more frightening.
"I said no. You are not going anywhere."
She leapt at him, raking at his face with her long fingernails, missing him only by a scant breath as he grabbed her arms and gave her a hard shake. "Do you think to command me?" He shook her again. "Me? Your lifemate? You dare to try to influence my mind? To attack me?"
Who was she conspiring with to try to trap and kill him? She had deceived him. Even as the words slipped out, even as he entertained the idea that she would harm him, he rejected the thought.
What was he doing and thinking? Had he truly lost his mind? Was he the coward she called him? He had gone into battle with the vampire without flinching. No one had ever questioned his courage, yet he was bullying his lifemate when she needed love and reassurance. He was accusing her of things the innocence in her eyes, in her mind, belied.
Was this his true personality? Or was it some manifestation of the wolf mixing with his Carpathian blood? Both species were dominant. Both demanded instant obedience, the wolf perhaps more. Who knew what secrets that elusive society had kept? It was obvious they had gone underground and still existed, but he had no way to understand what was happening—the thick mane of hair, the increased sense of smell, acute hearing, the driving need to keep his mate beside him, his scent all over her.
He was angry with himself, not her. He should have recognized the wolf traits in her, been more prepared for the consequences of taking her blood. He had been consumed with her, so much so that when he woke he had needed to feel her body wrapped around his even more than he needed blood for sustenance. In all the centuries of his existence, that had never happened. She was in every thought he had, taking him over until he knew he couldn't survive without her. Worse, when her mind was withdrawn from his, the other world invaded and he was left in the gray shadows, wandering, trying to figure out a way to reconnect wholly his spirit and body.
He couldn't force her to accept him. He couldn't get into her mind and stay merged; nor could he persuade her of the consequences of keeping that mind merge from him. And as she had withdrawn from him, he could no longer sustain enough power to keep his spirit wholly in the land of the living. Around him, the colors faded until everything was dim and grayish, and when he looked at his hands, he could see through them. His brain felt as if it was bursting through his skull, his temples pounding with pain. Ordinarily he could shut off pain, but it was impossible. His tongue felt funny, thick and coated with copper.
MaryAnn struggled in his grip, opening her mouth with the intention of blasting him, so hurt she wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the earth over the top of her, so angry she thought she might take another swipe at his face with her too-sharp fingernails, but something about him caught her attention. She pushed down her own hurt feelings and forced her mind back to reason.
"Manolito, is your head hurting?"
He nodded, pressing against his temples hard. "I shouldn't experience pain like this. I do not understand." Unless it is the wolf. Unless it is this woman, trying to pretend to be my lifemate when she is really a puppet of the vampire, bent on my destruction.
She caught that and flinched, nearly backing out of his mind, afraid he would hurt her more with his insults, but then she caught a sound. A buzzing. Like a million insects, only much worse than what she was getting in her brain. Her breath caught in her throat. Instinct told her to pull back fast, but she forced calm. She was psychic. She had the ability to read minds. She'd been doing it for years; she just hadn't been aware she was doing it. There was nothing to be afraid of. She just had to figure out how she did it.
She let her breath out and reached for him, filling her thoughts with him, wanting him to feel better, wanting to take away his pain and see what—or who—was harming him. The buzzing grew stronger, louder, pushing at her brain, making her feel so sick she ran to the railing and leaned over it, but she held on, determined to push further. Voices. Soft. Insistent. Crawling up and down his mind. Slicing at his brain.
"Manolito." She caught his hand and held on tight. "We're under attack. You're under attack. I can hear them. They're trying to get you to kill me."
He didn't hesitate, his hand enveloping hers. "The undead. Maxim seeks to trap me from the other side." It all made sense now, and in a way it was a relief to know he wasn't crazy. He hadn't turned on his lifemate. It hadn't occurred to him that he would be vulnerable in the shadow land, but it should have. His body was alive, and part of his spirit had returned to that of the living, which meant the dead would be aware he didn't belong with them.
"How can he do that when he's dead?"
"Maxim's spirit still remains in the land of ghosts, and that is where my spirit is. He must be attacking me from within." He pulled her close to him. "I do not want your last memories of your lifemate to be those of rejection and anger. I cannot believe the way Maxim could reach an ancient as battle-savvy as I am supposed to be. I fell under his influence like an inexperienced fledgling." He brought her knuckles to his mouth. "Forgive me, MaryAnn. I would not have hurt you for the world. It is my privilege to protect you, yet at the first test, I have failed you."
"No you haven't," she said. "Just tell me how we're going to make him stop." Because whatever Maxim was doing, Manolito was suffering; she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his mind. "Tell me what to do."
"I have to enter wholly into that world, and my body will be vulnerable to attack. If they kill you, or they destroy my body, I am lost. They must have a plan."
She stuck her chin out. "I can go there with you. I'm pretty certain I know how."
He shook his head. "No. It is much too dangerous. I can travel in the shadow world, because my spirit was drawn there, but you are alive and you do not belong. They were aware of you the instant you entered. I think they can kill you there."
"I think he's killing you in that world right now."
"He will not kill me." He caught her chin in his hand. "Listen to me, MaryAnn. This is important. I was upset when I discovered that I was changing, becoming wolf, just as you are changing and becoming Carpathian, but not for the reasons you think. Not for the reasons I gave you. Whatever influence Maxim has on me, at this moment my thinking is clear. Other psychic women have successfully converted to Carpathian. It was a painful process, but they are healthy and happy and living lives they seem to embrace. I expected no less for you."
He bent down to brush a kiss on top of her head. "Discovering the wolf changes the equation. There is no precedent. We have no idea what could happen to you if I convert you. We have no idea the effect the wolf would have on me. I can tell I am more aggressive and dominant, and you indicated you already had a problem with me in that area. I do not want to take a chance with your life. Until we know more, we have to be careful. I could become dangerous. You could be killed. We just do not know."
MaryAnn leaned into him, needing to touch him, beginning to feel panic. There was something wrong with the way his eyes were focusing. "Stay with me," she whispered, clinging to his hand. "Stay with me, Manolito."
"I have to go back there. Whatever Maxim is doing is there in the meadow of mists and ghosts, sivamet. I cannot be in two places at one time and fight him."
"Then I'm going with you."
"You cannot. My body will still be here unprotected. I am sending a message to my brother
to come at once to get you to safety. He will know what to do with my body." He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs sliding over her silky skin. "You are the most important person in my world, MaryAnn. I cannot risk you. Please do as I ask and wait here where you are protected for Riordan to come. I cannot worry about you and fight Maxim at the same time."
She stared up at his black, glittering eyes, realizing there was nothing she could do to stop him. He believed he had to protect her, and he would. He would die for her. He would kill for her. He would do anything for her. No matter the consequences to him, he would go where the vampire had all the advantages.
His smile was gentle, the pad of his thumb sliding over her lower lip. "What makes you think he has the advantage, csitri?"
"He's meaner than you, and much more cunning. And he's had time to plan."
His smile widened, until he looked wolfish. "I do not think you have to worry about who is meaner or more cunning. He has had time to plan, but he is counting on me trying to stay in this world. He will send others here. They will come, so do not leave until Riordan is here to escort you."
He was already fading, his spirit slipping back, away from her, away from the living world. MaryAnn tried to hold on to him, but there was no use. He was gone, and only his body remained, a shell, faded and drawn, no longer vital. There was enough spirit left for him to sink down, leaning his back against the railing, and then that, too, was gone and she heard his call.
Riordan. I have great need of you. MaryAnn is unprotected, and the vampire will send everyone he has to slay her. You must get to her.
The answering in his head sounded slurred and demonic. She could barely make out that he was speaking another language, one she didn't understand. Abruptly Manolito pulled away, confused. The voice was so distorted, he couldn't tell whether he was speaking with his brother or not.
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