If you got so much as a scratch on you, your daughter would have my head on a platter. Besides—you are getting old and slow.
As Joie, Jubal, Gabrielle and Gary began to slowly inch their way out of the room, the cat became more agitated, leaping to its feet, running at the two Carpathian males, a roar of rage shaking the house. Her children stopped.
The jaguar exploded into action, leaping over furniture to hit Traian squarely in the chest. Her weight and the suddenness of the attack pushed him over backward. She went for his throat, trying to sink her teeth deep. He caught her between strong hands, holding the snarling cat off.
Gabrielle screamed. “Don’t hurt her!”
That’s my mother! Joie cried.
Traian hesitated, and the cat raked his chest with her hind legs, tearing great lacerations, all the while driving its teeth toward his throat. It suddenly switched tactics, claws raking his chest, digging in for traction as she gathered power, pushing off with her hind legs to leap at Gary. She struck hard and fast, going in for the kill.
Powerful hands wrapped around her neck, holding her off, and she stared into the black eyes of the prince. He had moved with blurring speed, inserting his body between the jaguar and its prey.
“Mom! Stop!” There was panic in Joie’s voice. “What are you doing?”
Traian had no choice. He was sworn, as all Carpathians, to protect their prince. He circled the strong neck in a half nelson, prepared to break the neck should she persist in her attack on Mikhail.
The jaguar fought, using its flexible spine, but neither male yielded.
“Please, Traian, don’t. You can’t kill her,” Joie pleaded, rushing forward to grab his arm.
It was enough distraction that the jaguar twisted, nearly getting away from Traian, the claws tearing at Mikhail.
“Enough!” The command thundered through the room as a tall, broad-shouldered man strode in. His silver eyes gleamed with lethal intent. Ignoring Joie and Jubal’s pleas, Gregori reached past Traian and yanked the jaguar’s head around to stare into its eyes. “I said enough. If you persist in this action I will slay you immediately. You are human enough to understand me. Go into the other room and regain control now.” There was no give, no compassion. He didn’t even glance at the others in the room. He simply picked up the jaguar and flung it toward the door.
The cat landed hard against the wall, slid down and lay for a moment, sides heaving. There was a small silence broken only by the jaguar’s heavy breathing. Then it turned its head and snarled.
Gregori let out a long slow hiss, eyes glittering. He took one threatening step toward the cat. “I will not tell you again. You attacked my prince and the penalty is death. There are three Carpathians in this room and by all rights you should be dead. Go before I lose what little patience I have.”
The jaguar slunk off, and Gregori reached down and helped Mikhail to his feet. “Next time, if you do not protect your prince, you will answer to me. I do not care who attacks him, or for what reason. It is your duty to see to his safety whether he likes it or not.” His eyes touched on first Traian, then Joie and Gabrielle. “Do I make myself perfectly clear? Because if I do not, I will go in there and break her neck and show you what one does to keep their prince from harm.”
Traian nodded and reached for Joie. Gabrielle kept her face buried against Gary’s shoulder. Mr. Sanders rushed into the other room to attend to his wife.
“I was safe, Gregori,” Mikhail said quietly.
Gregori whipped around to glare at the prince. “Do not tell me you were safe. She was going straight for your throat. Do you think I couldn’t read her mind? She intended to rip it out.”
This is fine way to begin our first Christmas celebration. Raven is not going to be pleased.
Raven would not be pleased if that woman had ripped out your throat. This is not finished, Mikhail, and do not make light of it. Traian and Joie have a lot to answer for. I can excuse Gabrielle, but not the others.
“Traian was watching out for me, Gregori,” Joie said. “She’s my mother.”
“Traian does not need to hide behind your skirts, Joie. He is an ancient. Born and bred Carpathian and as such subject to the laws of our people. Above all else, we protect our prince. Without him, our species dies. We are extinct. Our first duty always—always—is to protect the living vessel of our people. Mikhail would not have killed your mother to save himself because he is bound to hold our people together. He would have tried diplomacy and she would have ripped out his throat. It was the duty of the three Carpathians in this room to protect him—even from himself.” Gregori turned his head, pinning Traian with his cold, peculiar-colored eyes. “Is that not so?”
“That is so. It was bad judgment on my part and I will not fail our prince again.”
“And you will not fail our people again,” Gregori persisted. He looked to the women. “You must make up your mind whether or not you live as Carpathian. If you do not, I will see to it that you do not live at all.”
Gregori. Mikhail’s intervention was calm in the eye of the storm. Enough.
It is not enough. They will protect you or they will answer to me.
“Why did she do it?” Gary asked, pushing his glasses up and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I swear she was coming for me, not Mikhail. Gregori, I’m certain she tried to kill me. Mikhail moved so fast I didn’t see him, and I don’t think she did either.”
“Traian needs attention,” Gregori ordered Joie. “See to your lifemate’s wounds.”
Traian’s snarl rumbled through the room. “I deserve your reprimand, Gregori, but do not extend your orders to my lifemate. I will not allow it.”
Mikhail held up his hand to forestall any further confrontation. “We all forget what is at stake here. Mrs. Sanders is here to celebrate with us and she had accepted Gabrielle and Joie as Carpathians. What we need to find out is what triggered the jaguar into attacking.” He gave his second in command a hard look. “And then we’re all going to make peace because nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to ruin this night for Raven.”
Gregori bowed slightly. “Of course.” He exchanged a ghost of a grin with Traian. He is afraid of her.
She has him wrapped around her finger.
And both of you can go to hell.
Gabrielle sank down onto the couch with Gary on one side of her and Jubal on the other. Joie and Traian shared a chair. Mikhail stood in the corner nearest the door and Gregori stood, arms folded across his broad chest, his body between Mikhail’s and the rest of the room.
Mr. and Mrs. Sanders came out together holding hands. She had been crying and was obviously reluctant to face them all. When she saw the marks on Traian’s chest, a fresh flood of tears began.
“Mom, it’s okay,” Joie said. “Please don’t cry anymore. Let’s just figure out what’s wrong and fix it.”
“Is it me?” Gabrielle asked. “I don’t want to upset you anymore. This is Christmas night and we’re supposed to be together as a family. I don’t want you upset by what happened to me.”
Mrs. Sanders shook her head. “Not you. Never you, baby.” Her gaze touched on Gary, and slid away. She gripped her husband’s hand tighter. “It’s him.” She nodded toward Gary. “He’s not what you think he is.”
“Gary?” Gabrielle looked shocked. Everyone stared at Gary.
“What do you mean, Mrs. Sanders?” Mikhail asked.
“He’s jaguar. I can smell his blood. The stench is all over him. He is a jaguar male. They are deceptive and capable of great cruelty. I don’t want him anywhere near my daughters. Either of them.” She raised her chin, suddenly looking regal. “What I did was wrong, I should have controlled the cat better, but it was such a shock. I haven’t encountered a jaguar male in years. I thought that door was long closed. It took me by surprise and brought back painful memories, but I’m under control now. He cannot stay anywhere near them.”
Gabrielle gripped Gary’s shirt hard. “You’re mistaken, Mom. Gary is
the sweetest man I know. Kind and good and brilliant. He isn’t a shapeshifter. He’s human.”
“He is jaguar,” Mrs. Sanders said harshly. “And he is deceiving you if he has said differently. I am pure jaguar and none can escape my detection.”
“Gary?” Mikhail asked, already probing the man’s mind.
Gregori had exchanged blood with Gary and could read his thoughts, and did so often. He had never found any evidence of shapeshifting. He looked at Mikhail and shook his head.
“Mrs. Sanders, it is possible Gary shares a bloodline. Many of the women here do, including your daughters and son. But he cannot shift and, in fact, does not know of his lineage. Gregori has shared blood with him and can easily read his thoughts, and many times Gary has volunteered to allow me to do the same. He cannot deceive a Carpathian who has taken his blood.”
“He is a jaguar,” Mrs. Sanders persisted. “He is not welcome here nor can he be near my daughters.”
“Your son is jaguar. Should he be banished as well?” Mikhail asked.
“Mom! What’s gotten into you,” Jubal demanded. “Dad, stop her.”
“You have no idea what your mother has suffered at the hands of a jaguar male,” Mr. Sanders retorted. “Don’t you dare judge her.”
“Not all jaguar males are the same,” Mikhail said. “Any more than Carpathian males are. Many of our males turn vampire and many jaguar males turn on their women, but not all. I’ve known many honorable jaguars—your own son among them, and his blood is far more pure than Gary’s. Give Gary a fair chance. He has been with my people for some time now and is committed to helping us. Gabrielle has worked with him and knows his dedication. Use this time to get to know him as an individual.”
Before she could protest, Gregori stirred, drawing all eyes to him. “This is a small thing the prince has requested, Mrs. Sanders. You have attacked him, as well as intentionally harming your own son-in-law. Your intention was to kill one of ours. Gary is under my protection and is my friend. I will be responsible for his behavior. All the prince has asked is that you give him a chance and given your own behavior, I think it is a reasonable request.”
Mrs. Sanders took a deep breath. “You’re right, of course. I was so scared when I scented him. I do apologize for my behavior.”
Gary squeezed Gabrielle’s hand to forestall any comments. “Thank you, Mrs. Sanders. I honestly don’t know if what you say is true, but I’ll do my best to find out. As far as I know, I have no psychic abilities whatsoever, and I certainly can’t shapeshift. However, I have always been interested in legends and myths, and did at one time try to prove there were such creatures as vampires and shapeshifters. Maybe I was drawn to those things because, as you say, it is my heritage.”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Sanders agreed noncommittally.
Mikhail let his breath out slowly. “Our celebration will begin in a couple of hours. I trust you will do your best to work things out so we can present a united front to our guests. And Traian, you will make absolutely certain that our secrets remain safe at all times.” That meant taking the blood of Joie’s parents, an unpleasant, but necessary task.
“Yes, of course.”
Gregori turned deliberately to Gary in front of the others. “If you have need of me, you have only to call out in your mind and I will hear you. Take every precaution. I will not suffer a second attack on you without retaliation. My justice is swift and brutal as you well know.” He looked at the others in the room. “Nothing will sway me from my set task should harm come to my friend.” He gave a small half bow and followed Mikhail out into the drifting snow.
“You always did know how to leave with a flair,” Mikhail remarked.
“I swear, old friend, if you put yourself in harm’s way again, I’m going to kill you myself and be done with it.”
“I like to keep you on your toes. I’ll be by later to see my daughter. I’m heading over to see Destiny. I’d like to hear what her friend MaryAnn has to say about Gabrielle. And if she really is as good as everyone tells me, I want to find a way to get her together with young Skyler. The child is amazing, courageous and smart and way too mature for her age, but so fragile, Gregori. We cannot afford to lose her and Dimitri is very close. Too close.”
“I am keeping my eye on him.” Gregori said. “You will like Destiny and her Nicolae. She is an amazing woman and a very skilled hunter. Francesca and I are keeping a close eye on her to make certain we removed all the parasites from her blood. We have kept some just in case we find a use for it. An astonishing young woman.”
“I am looking forward to meeting her.”
Gregori began to shimmer into transparency. “You know there will be trouble over Gabrielle and Gary now that she has been converted.”
Mikhail sighed. “Even now, when we are supposed to be gathering for Christmas, there always seems to be trouble.”
14
The inn was beginning to fill up with people. Manolito De La Cruz stood in the corner watching the strange scene unfold before his eyes. Chaos. Stupidity. Why would so many people gather indoors and feel safe?
Hunger was sharp and terrible, clawing at his gut, riding him hard, and the sound of so many heartbeats, blood ebbing and flowing in veins, only added to his discomfort. Shadows rose in him, the demon crying for blood, for some small spark of feeling, a momentary rush that would give him back life. Just once. He could almost imagine prey beneath him, heart beating wildly, the rush of adrenaline spiking the blood and giving him a high when he consumed it.
There in the shadows he chose his prey. The man, fit and strong and thinking he was such a big man, telling everyone what to do. Manolito would let him see it coming, death in his eyes, in his heart and soul, and he would sink his teeth deep, feel the struggle for life—always life. A life he no longer had and could never get back.
All around him were Carpathian males who had managed to claim a woman—even two of his brothers. He heard their laughter, felt emotion through them, but it wasn’t enough. Too many centuries had gone by. Too many battles. Too many kills. He felt his will slipping into that dark abyss he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of. He had stood with the Carpathians against the vampires, had been wounded and had been healed, but rising, had felt the darkness coiled in him, whispering continually every moment until he thought he might go mad—until he thought he would welcome madness.
His gaze shifted to a woman in heels. Women always welcomed his attentions. He could draw them easily with his dark, seductive looks. He knew what women saw when they looked at him: a handsome man, mysterious, wealthy and very, very sexual. He looked the epitome of the predatory male and women followed him, begging to be taken to bed. He used them ruthlessly, leaving behind the impression of sexual prowess, marking them with his teeth, disgusted by their willingness to throw their bodies at him. If they only knew what he really wanted was to drain every drop of blood from their bodies, to leave them a withered shell just so he could feel the momentary rush of life.
Temptation was overpowering, triggering a response, so that his incisors lengthened and grew, filling his mouth even as his body craved the power of the kill. Just once. The whispers grew louder, drowning out his thoughts of calling to his brothers for aid. One time only. A taste of life that would have to last him a long while. Just once. Who would know?
The heartbeats grew louder until they thundered in his ears. He heard his own heart beating and waited for the sheep around him to follow—and they did, slowly, one by one, picking up his rhythm.
He craved hot blood pouring into his system. He craved the feel of a woman’s skin, the thrill of her body submitting to his. Only he couldn’t feel it—not for real. His brothers fed him emotions like they would spoon-feed a child. It wasn’t enough. Darkness called and he needed to answer. He could almost taste the power in his mouth.
Abruptly, he turned and strode from the inn, out into the night, where he could calm his heart and try to think with more clarity. Hunger beat at him relentlessly, a dark
driving obsession he couldn’t shake. The night wasn’t dark enough to hide in. The snow lit up the ground and kept the shadows from prevailing. He needed the shelter of the woods. Manolito switched directions and headed for deeper forest.
“Nicolae, warrior, brother, it is good to have you home.” Mikhail clasped the forearms of the tall, ancient dark-haired hunter, greeting him with the timeless Carpathian tradition for welcoming beloved warriors home.
Nicolae Von Shrieder stood arm to arm, staring into the eyes of his prince, emotion nearly choking him. It was unexpected and shocking to feel the lump in his throat at the admiration and genuine welcome in Mikhail’s greeting. He was home and he had served his people with honor and dignity for centuries. “It is good to be home, Mikhail. I serve at the will of my prince, who is the living vessel of our people, and pledge loyalty to him.” He paid the ancient homage to his prince.
Mikhail’s smile was genuine. “It has been long since I heard those words and felt the meaning behind them. It is truly good to have you home.” He turned to the woman standing beside Nicolae. She looked very apprehensive, somewhere between wanting to run—and fight. She had been through so much, her courage and strength honed in the very fires of hell.
He clasped her forearms, looking straight into her startled aquamarine eyes, and repeated the ancient greeting, affording her the highest respect he could give her. “Destiny. Warrior. Sister. It is good to have you home.”
She swallowed hard, glanced at her lifemate and nodded, her hands tightening on his forearms. “It is good to be home. I too serve at the will of my prince and pledge loyalty to him.”
“You do not have to pledge your loyalty to me,” Mikhail said. “The service you have already done is more than any people could ask of you.”
“I stand with my lifemate and wish to serve,” she replied.
“Then I accept your offer on behalf of the Carpathian people.” He let her go, stepping away, his smile welcoming. “I have long wanted to meet the woman who has given and suffered so much for our people. Thank you for coming.”
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 142