The wolf stopped running and stood with sides heaving, head hanging and blood-red tears dripping into the snow. He suddenly threw his head back and howled his unrelenting sorrow to the heavens and what ever deities might hear him. As the mournful notes faded into the night, he resumed his own shape, the wolf falling away to reveal the man. Dimitri covered his face as he sank down onto a boulder.
“You are feeling her pain,” Mikhail said softly. “It is both a miracle and a curse for you.”
Dimitri sprang up, whirling to face the prince, his fangs exposed in a snarl, his eyes glowing with red flickers of flame. He stood in a fighter’s stance, hands up, the air around them charged with electricity—with danger. “I had no idea I was not alone,” Dimitri said. “I would not have displayed such emotion.”
“Allow me to summon Gregori to you,” Mikhail offered. “He could help to ease this suffering.”
“No one eased it for her,” Dimitri growled. “I knew when they laid their filthy hands on her and I knew when they hurt her, and beat her and cut her. I even knew when they burned her, but I never felt it. Not the pain, not the rage, not her despair. When I touched her, drew her into my arms and merged my spirit with hers, it was there, behind the wall Francesca and Gabriel built to distance her from it, but it was all there and this time—God help me, Mikhail—this time I felt it all. Every agony, every humiliation, every depravity. The rage and guilt and I heard her begging—pleading—for someone to save her. Where was I?”
“You were doing your duty, Dimitri, as all of us must. Skyler is strong and grows stronger every day. I do not pretend to understand why some men brutalize women and children, I will never be able to comprehend such a thing, but I do know it is common. She is safe now, and happy. Gabriel and Francesca are seeing to her education, and eventually they will bring her wholly into our world.”
Dimitri rubbed his hand over his face. “When I saw her, she looked an angel, Mikhail. I never knew what that meant when I heard the description, but there is purity there and goodness. I need her. The darkness is closing in on me and I fear my ability to do the honorable thing.”
“Every one of us has moments of weakness, Dimitri. Skyler is your lifemate and as such, you must do what is right for her. Survive and maintain until such time as she is able to come to you. Work with Gabriel and Francesca, not against them. Kidnapping her or binding her will only hurt you both in the end, and I think you know that. At least you have hope where so many others have nothing.”
“Hope? When she is a child and I must return to the emptiness of my existence? When I know if I stay I will claim her? When I can feel every brutality inflicted on her and am helpless to take it away?” Dimitri sank once more down onto the boulder and shook his head. “I am lost, Mikhail.”
Mikhail crouched down beside him. “You cannot be lost. She must live with what happened to her and as her lifemate, so must you.”
“Shamed for all eternity that I could not protect her?”
“You are feeling rage—impotent rage—on your behalf, not hers. You should be able to extract vengeance, mete out justice, and because there is only the aftermath, the burden and scars of these terrible crimes, you rail to the heavens for your inability to protect her. She was a child and you were a thousand miles away. You did not know of her existence. You are a hunter of the vampire and you know duty and honor. Behave in an honorable manner. Court her as she deserves. Allow her to heal with Francesca and Gabriel that she might come to you wholly and of her own free will. That is the gift that you can give her—and it is much more than most of us have given our lifemates.”
Dimitri dragged in a deep breath. “I used to stare up at the stars each night and imagine that she was somewhere in the world looking at the same stars. I tried to picture her, to build an image in my head, but she was so elusive. And then I looked at her with her soft skin and her beautiful eyes and knew I could never have conjured her up, no matter how vivid my imagination.”
“Will you allow Gregori to aid you?” Mikhail repeated.
Dimitri ran both hands through his dark, sweat-damp hair. “I have to work this out in my own way, Mikhail. I have been alone many centuries now and it is difficult for me to interact with anyone—even my own people. I spend much time in the form of a wolf, running free with my pack.”
“There is danger in that—taking on the wild ways.”
Dimitri nodded. “If it becomes too big a burden, I will seek the Dark One. I cannot stay away from her while I am here.”
“Do not provoke Gabriel.”
“He should not provoke me. I am no longer the shy boy he thinks me. That boy is long gone from this world.” Dimitri spread out his hands and curled his fingers into two tight fists. “I am a killer and damned for all time. She saw that in me, you know. She sensed the darkness and retreated.”
“You are a hunter. One of my best,” Mikhail corrected. “Never think any different. Skyler is now your responsibility and she is tied to your fate. You cannot meet the dawn nor can you embrace evil. You must endure until she is old enough—and strong enough to accept your claim on her.” He straightened and looked up at the sky. “I am going to see Julian Savage. He was your boyhood friend. Perhaps you would care to accompany me?” His teeth flashed white, but the smile never reached his eyes. He could feel sorrow for Dimitri and try to aid him, but he could never forget that Dimitri was a danger and always would be until he had bound his lifemate to him. “I thought he, of all Carpathians, would most enjoy knowing I intend to see that Gregori wears the ridiculous red Santa Claus suit.”
“Julian always loved a good prank,” Dimitri admitted, “but I will visit him later when I am in more control. Isn’t his lifemate kin to Gregori?”
Mikhail nodded. “Desari is Gregori’s younger sister. She’s very talented.”
“Have you met the man who kept them all alive when we thought they were lost to us?” Dimitri asked. “He must be a powerful Carpathian.”
Mikhail nodded. “Ah, Darius. Elusive. Quiet. Says what he means. Few would ever think to cross him. He is much like his brothers. Confident in his abilities and powers. It is interesting to witness the Daratrazanoff brothers together. There is no jostling for leadership. Each is his own man, yet blends well with the others. It is a strong lineage.”
“I heard Dominic of the Dragonseekers had returned.”
“He was gravely injured in our last battle with the vampires and the mage, Razvan. Dominic still rests beneath the ground. Francesca and Gregori would very much like to have a healing session for him before she leaves for Paris.”
Dimitri stood up, squaring his shoulders. “Tell Julian I will see him later, at the party. I will patrol the forest and try to pick up the scent of our enemies. The wolves may have information for me.”
“Be very careful, Dimitri. They followed the trail of energy back to Skyler, but if blood is calling them, remember you also carry her scent as she does yours. You could be marked as well.”
Dimitri’s mouth hardened into a cruel line. “I would welcome the chance at them. They will not find me as easy a target as they would find Skyler.”
Before Mikhail could respond, Dimitri turned and sprinted away, shifting on the run, going to all fours without breaking stride, the movement so seamless and fluid that Mikhail knew no one could have matched him. The ripple of power was breathtaking, and Mikhail stared at the spot where Dimitri had shifted, the tracks in the snow, one moment man, the next wolf. The wonder of his species struck him as it did so often, but as always, on the heels of that wonder came the inevitable burden of responsibility.
My love. You are worried. Raven touched his mind with her warmth. At once the rush of love filled his mind bringing him comfort.
It is nothing. I will be with Julian and Desari. Would you like to join us?
I cannot. I do not like the look of this gravy. It is…lumpy.
Mikhail found himself smiling at the annoyance in her voice. If the gravy didn’t behave, Raven was going t
o throw it outside in the snow and use it for target practice. The woman had a bit of a temper, and apparently the cooking wasn’t going very well.
I do not find your amusement in the least bit helpful.
Amusement? Mikhail took to the sky, his body reshaping into that of an owl. He winged his way over the forest toward the house where Julian was staying. I am certain I did not feel in the least amused over you muttering threats to human gravy you are not going to be consuming yourself.
There was a heartbeat of silence. Alarm spread through him. Raven? You are not going to attempt to eat human food, are you?
I’m considering whether or not it would add to the illusion that we are human. Some of the villagers will be there as well as a guest or two.
Mikhail drew in his breath, his wings beating ferociously as he dipped through the trees, the snowflakes on his feathers. You go too far with this silly feast of yours, woman.
Her retaliatory amusement washed over him, bringing a flood of warmth. Only Raven teased him like this—unexpectedly, lovingly—daring the wrath of the prince of the Carpathian people. He sent her an impression of bared fangs, but it didn’t do much to intimidate her. She only laughed and went back to her lumpy gravy.
Below him, Mikhail spotted Julian Savage running in the snow, his long blond hair like his brother Aidan’s—streaming behind him, something tucked under his arm, while a woman chased after him and another man raised his hand, calling out. Julian launched the object into the air and the man caught it, waving it triumphantly over his head. Mikhail landed on the railing of Julian’s home and shifted back to his normal form.
“It isn’t funny, Julian,” the woman called out with a small sniff of disdain. “That’s for the midnight dinner.” She glared at the other man. “Barack, you give that to me right this minute.”
“No one could eat it, sweetheart.” Julian circled around her, careful to keep out of reach. “Unless they plan on using it for shoe leather.”
Barack flashed a grin. “We could start a new fad with this stuff, Desari. You cook the roast and we’ll make the soles of shoes and after they walk for a while, they’ll never go hungry.”
“Eeeww! That’s just sick, Barack. You’ve been around Julian way too long.”
“Seriously, honey, it is much better used as a football.”
“Don’t you sweetheart and honey me, Julian,” Desari protested. “I can’t very well have people eating that roast after you’ve been throwing it around.” She glared at the two men, hands on hips.
“Go out for a pass,” Barack directed Julian.
Julian took off running and Barack launched the roast high into the air. Julian sprang up and caught it, pulling it into his chest. Before he could land on the ground, Desari began to sing and the notes danced silver in the air around Julian, hooking together to form a net. He bounced as if on a trampoline and slid off onto the ground, landing hard in an inelegant sprawl.
Barack doubled over with laughter, but undeterred, Julian lifted the dried out roast over his head in triumph. “Touchdown!”
Desari sang a few more notes. The silver and gold notes danced and dipped, hooking around one another to form a noose that slipped over Julian’s head. Mikhail’s breath caught in his throat. In the darkness, with the snow falling, the musical notes were beautiful, shimmering and glowing with life and energy. All the while Desari’s voice pulsed through his body, making his heart and mind glow with warmth, happiness and, most of all, the love she felt for her lifemate.
Desari suddenly turned her head to smile at Mikhail. She was beautiful, dazzling even, her voice fading into the night, a part of nature itself. “I suppose I shouldn’t strangle my lifemate in front of the prince, should I?” she asked. There was no embarrassment in her voice, only laughter and welcome.
Desari is a true Daratrazanoff. She exudes confidence. He shared with Raven the image of the Carpathian woman with her flowing hair, soft features and her musical voice and the dancing silver and gold notes casting a noose around her lifemate’s neck.
And she is beautiful.
There was no edge to Raven’s tone, but Mikhail smiled at her through their telepathic link. Perhaps you should come and join me and leave that gravy to insects—although poisoning any creature is never a good thing.
You are so funny, my prince.
Mikhail winced. Raven never referred to him as a prince unless he was skating the edge of trouble. He smiled at Desari. “I have always wanted to strangle Julian.”
“So has my brother, Darius,” Desari said, walking over to him, her every movement graceful.
A slow smile softened Mikhail’s mouth. “I can well imagine if Darius is anything like Gregori. Julian used to drive Gregori right up the wall. Even as a boy, Julian had little fear in him. He went his own way and got into more trouble than most of our children could ever conceive of doing.”
Julian swept his arm around Desari’s narrow waist. “Do not listen to him. I was not the bad boy of the Carpathians. Just independent—and for good reason. I had a vampire using my eyes to spy on our people. I could not very well stick around.”
“And you have since destroyed this vampire?” Mikhail asked.
Julian nodded. “I had built him up to be so powerful. As a child, to me, he seemed so, but like most monsters in our lives, once I became an adult, he was not nearly as powerful as I remembered. Looking back, I should have told an adult and perhaps they could have hunted and destroyed him, giving me back my childhood, but I thought he would harm our hunters.”
Mikhail shrugged his shoulders. “It is easy for us to look back and say what we should have done, but that is because later we have different information and, of course, knowledge always changes our decisions.”
Julian flashed a faint smile. “I would have wanted those years back with Aidan. He has been so good about it, but I know it hurt him to be separated.”
Desari reached for his hand in an offer of comfort. “We see him as often as possible now, Julian,” she reminded him, and then jerked her hand away to rub her palm on her thigh. “You’re all greasy.”
“The infamous roast,” Julian said, presenting the large, dried up hunk of meat to her with a small courtly bow.
Mikhail covered his reaction with a small cough, turning his face away as Desari glared at her lifemate.
“It’s all squishy, Julian, you ruined my roast. What am I going to do now? I have to provide something for tonight’s dinner.”
“Ask Corrine to help,” Barack suggested. “She told Dayan she cooked quite a bit before he claimed her.”
“There is nothing squishy about that roast,” Julian protested. “It has turned to leather.”
Desari made a face at him and then down at the roast. “Disgusting stuff. I think I will ask Corrine to help me make something else.”
Barack held out his hands. “Throw it, Desari, we may as well finish our football game.”
Mikhail shook his head. “I wanted to let you all know that Alexandria and young Skyler ran into trouble a few minutes ago. We all need to be on alert and give added protection to our women and children.”
“Syndil was at the house, thinking she might prepare something for the party. I think I will check on her. If I reach out, she will simply say she is fine.” Barack sketched a small salute and immediately took to the sky.
The smile faded from Julian’s face. He stepped closer to Desari. “What kind of trouble? Aidan did not send word that Alexandria was hurt.”
“She is fine now, but both she and Skyler felt the presence of a subtle flow of power, enhancing emotions to the point of irrationality. Even Gabriel was affected, losing his temper with Dimitri.”
“I knew Dimitri had arrived,” Julian said. “I can feel the darkness in him growing by the hour. He is unstable and we have to find a way to keep him safe. Gregori gave me a task to keep me going when I thought to give up my existence, and perhaps if one was given to Dimitri…” Julian sighed. “He is alone, killing more often tha
n a hunter should have to, and that is slowly destroying him.”
“Skyler is his lifemate,” Mikhail stated.
Desari gasped. “Oh, dear, she’s just a babe. Is he certain?”
“She restored colors and emotions.”
“That cannot be good,” Julian said. “At best emotions can be difficult to deal with, and in this situation when she was so brutalized, he must be going through hell. I should go to him,” he added, “see what I can do. Desari has amazing power with her voice. It might help him get through this.”
“He cannot bind her to him,” Desari protested, her hand to her throat. “She is much, much too young and from what Francesca said, far too fragile. It takes both Gabriel and Francesca to distance her enough from her past to allow her to function normally. Do you know that she has no childhood memories in her mind they can bring out to aid her? It must be so difficult for Dimitri to suddenly feel all these things. For a time, he will be raw and wounded with her old scars.”
“It is a very dangerous situation,” Mikhail agreed. “If Dimitri stays near her, he will continue to fight his need to claim her. If he chooses to return to Russia, the danger to both increases.” He rubbed his temples, suddenly feeling old. The weight of his responsibilities was wearing on him far more these dark days.
In the midst of the Christmas season, when he should have been feeling joy and hope, he felt tired and the beginnings of despair. How could he save them? Two or three children were not enough. Even if Shea gave birth to a female and the baby survived, it would be years before a male would be saved. Too long to wait in darkness. Too many males. One or two lifemates were not going to keep their species from extinction, especially as their enemies were banding together and becoming bolder and bolder in their attacks.
“We had the advantages for so long,” he murmured aloud. “We could scan and know the thoughts of our enemies, but now they’ve found a way to block us. We could smell the evil stench of the vampire, sense the presence of such an abomination, yet now we can no longer trust our own senses to guide us.” He spread his arms out wide. “Before, they would never have come here after us, fearing our power, yet now they chip away at us on nearly a daily basis. Our enemies outnumber us and as we grow weaker—they grow stronger.”
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 126