Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Go! Go! Get out of here! Manolito shouted at Mikhail as the dirt and rocks began pouring in over his head. One rock hit the eagle hard, knocking it sideways so one great wing crumpled. Manolito switched forms, trying to get a purchase in the soft dirt to get out before the rapidly filling dirt could close over his head. He used his hands to catch at roots to hold himself up as he kicked at the clawing creature with his foot. The dirt and debris rained on his head, filled his mouth so that he spat and closed his eyes, once more shifting to stay alive beneath the dirt.

  Mikhail swore as the hole closed, trapping the hunter beneath the ground. He shifted to the body of a badger, plowing his way through the layers of soil, reaching for Manolito, all the while sending waves of tremors through the earth, hoping to disorient the monster.

  Both hunter and hunted were blind now, the eagle having done its work. Manolito tried to utilize the senses of the giant mole he had become in order to find his way to the top. He heard the prince digging, felt the earth shake and knew Mikhail hadn’t left him. He began frantically tunneling up toward the prince.

  It was the mole that sensed the creature coming up behind it, but Manolito went silent, shrinking the mole to normal size, waiting until he felt the hot breath on the mole’s face before he struck hard, leaping forward, ripping with his own claws, a savage attack that scored. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the blood burning through his body, heard the horrible howl of pain, and suddenly it was gone, dropping through the soil where Manolito had no hope of following it.

  The dirt above him was nearly gone, thanks to Mikhail’s efforts. He made short work of it and as he broke through the surface, he shifted once more, throwing himself across the top of the ground, breathing in fresh air.

  “Your blood or his,” Mikhail demanded.

  “Mostly his,” Manolito answered, desperately trying to regain his control. He couldn’t afford for the prince to realize he’d regained emotion and for the first time in his life, he had experienced claustrophobia. “It feels like vampire blood, it burns like acid, yet he did not act as any vampire I have ever encountered. He didn’t seem experienced in an actual fight.” Manolito sat up slowly, buying a little more time. “He laid a great trap, but he cannot really fight. He was relying on poison to stop us. It’s in his claws.”

  “Are Juliette and Riordan safe beneath the surface?”

  “I don’t think he can get to them. He cannot get past the safeguards. Don’t you find that strange? He can do so much, yet he falls short when it comes to finishing.”

  “I fear Razvan was not slain as we had hoped.” Mikhail reached out and circled his ankle, inspecting the damage. “He is good at the planning of a battle, but from what I understand he was unable to make up his own spells and safeguards. That would mean he could not unravel them.” I am tired, Raven. So very tired.

  Gregori comes to you, my love. Her voice was a soft caress. There have been so many battles lately. This is my fault. I should not have insisted on bringing everyone together. The responsibility of their safety weighs on you.

  Gregori tore into the passageway, a thundering cloud of vapor, already shifting. He came striding toward them, his silver eyes blazing, his long hair streaming behind him, his face a grim mask. Muscles ran like steel beneath his skin and he moved with fluid grace. He simply bent and ran his hands over Mikhail, looking for every scratch that could have opened a doorway for poison. “Our people are grateful to you, Manolito. We cannot thank you enough for your intervention.”

  Ah, old friend. Must you treat me like a child in front of the children?

  Do not make a joke. How many times is this now that our enemies have set traps for you? Raven and Savannah are both distressed, both in tears. For that alone I could tear out your heart. His hands were extraordinarily gentle as he examined the prince.

  “Manolito has several burns and claw marks,” Mikhail said.

  Gregori eyed his prince warily. Mikhail always responded to his outrageous threats, but this time he didn’t even attempt a quip. Alarmed, Gregori went over his body a second time to make certain he had assessed the damage correctly. “I will take you home to Savannah to heal your ankle, if you do not mind, Mikhail. It will do her good to see you and I will be able to spend more time making certain I have all the poison out.”

  “What ever is best for you, Gregori.”

  Gregori’s dark brow rose and once again, his slashing silver gaze probed the prince. He finally turned to Manolito and cleansed the burns from the acid blood, healing the few claw marks on his face and chest, checking to make certain he had pushed all the poison from his body. “You should rest,” he advised.

  “I will go to ground after the celebration. I think every warrior should be close just in case,” Manolito said.

  Gregori nodded. “Thank you again for your ser vice to our people.”

  “The allegiance of the De La Cruz family has always been pledged to our prince,” Manolito said. He sketched a small salute and left the two alone.

  “Are you all right, Mikhail? Really all right?” Gregori asked.

  Mikhail was silent for a few moments. “Yes, of course. I am just tired of so many of my people having to make a decision to exchange their life for mine. It is difficult to live with oneself after a time.” He didn’t wait for Gregori to reply. He shimmered into mist and streamed from the caverns toward his daughter’s home.

  Savannah waited anxiously for them, her thick blue-black hair a long rope down her back, anxiety in her deep blue—almost violet—eyes. She threw her arms around Mikhail’s neck and held him tightly. “Papa, we were all so worried.”

  “I know, csitri,” he replied. “I’m sorry. I’m fine, just a scratch.”

  “You’ve always called me your little girl, but now that I’m grown”—Savannah reached for Gregori, clung to his hand—“you only do so when things aren’t very good. How bad are you hurt, really, Papa?” She looked up at her lifemate. “Gregori?”

  Gregori framed her face with his large hands, thumbs brushing gently over her mouth. “You know I would never allow anything to happen to your father. He has a torn ankle and I’m going to take a good look at it.” His silver gaze slid over Mikhail.

  “Do not look at me like that,” Mikhail snapped, his hand sliding down to his ankle. The pain was nearly impossible to block. “What would you have me do? Stand by and watch a man who risked his life for me die?”

  Gregori waved his hand and a cushioned stool slid in front of Mikhail. “Yes. That is what I would have you do. I would not expect it of you, but yes, I would prefer it. One of these days, you are not going to survive these continual attacks on you. If you cannot think of yourself or your lifemate, perhaps you might think what would happen to your people.” His voice was mild as he delivered what was definitely a reprimand.

  Savannah ducked her head, flinching a little, her protest dying under Gregori’s slashing gaze. She brushed back her father’s hair with gentle fingers. “It was courageous of you, but you could have been killed.”

  “And what of the hunter, Manolito De La Cruz, who risked everything to save me? He went willingly into the burrow, knowing what it was, knowing he probably would die. I am to ignore that? I cannot, Gregori. I will not.”

  Gregori shrugged his broad shoulders. “I suppose you could not. That is why you are the prince. But in truth, De La Cruz did his duty to his people. He has his honor and he can live with that. It is what we all do, Mikhail, and even you have to live within the rules of our society. We cannot exist without you.”

  “There is Savannah.”

  “We do not know if she is a living vessel for our people. And she is female. She is needed to provide children. If she ruled, we could not chance it.” Gregori bent to examine the wounds in Mikhail’s ankle. “This is very similar to the attack on Natayla’s ankle just before the big battle. Razvan attacked her from below ground and injected her with poison using the tips of his claws. How are you feeling?”

  “Like he tor
e a hole through my ankle clear to the bone,” Mikhail admitted. When Gregori continued to look at him, he sighed. “The leg is weak and I feel sick.”

  Savannah went to wipe the blood away, using a soft wet cloth. “This should help a little with the pain,” she explained. “I know you’re having a difficult time controlling it and I put a soother in the water.”

  Before she could touch her father, Gregori caught her arm and pulled her away from the wound. “I think we will treat this as if it is poison.”

  Savannah glared at him. “You’re going to go into his body and destroy the poison, aren’t you? So big deal if I help my father feel a little better.”

  Gregori paused, his black brow shooting up. “It is unlike you to snarl at your lifemate, Savannah. Perhaps you are more upset than you realize that your father has been injured. And you wept over that ridiculous dish your mother asked you to make.”

  Color stained her cheeks. “I did not cry over it. I told you that.” She glared at him. Don’t tell my father that. He’ll tell my mother and then she’ll feel bad. And stop giving me orders. I just don’t feel like putting up with it today.

  Gregori caught both her arms and pulled her into the shelter of his body. “You are near tears again. What is wrong with you? Is it the baby?” His hand brushed over her hair with exquisite gentleness.

  “Baby? What baby?” Mikhail asked, shifting position so he could look at his daughter’s stomach. Savannah was small, like her mother. Now that Gregori had spilled the news, he could see that she was definitely thicker around the waist and he found himself smiling in spite of the pain.

  She gasped and hit Gregori’s shoulder with her clenched fist. “You weren’t supposed to tell. I was going to tell them.”

  “What is wrong?” Gregori demanded, catching her fist and opening it, to place a kiss in the center of her palm. He cast a swift glance at Mikhail. “I can always remove your father’s memories.”

  “Oh, I’d like to see you try that,” Mikhail scoff ed. “And if you’re making my baby girl cry, you’re going to see what a prince can do when he’s angry.”

  “I’m having twins,” Savannah announced. “Girls.”

  “We only heard one heartbeat, felt one life,” Gregori objected, giving her a narrow-eyed glance. “She’s having a baby. A boy.”

  “The other was there, hiding behind her sister. There are two of them, both girls and I’m going to be as big as a house. And you’re going to be just awful, ordering me around. If you think he’s bad about giving you orders, Papa, trust me, he’s way worse with me.”

  Gregori shook his head. “Not girls, Savannah. We need sons. Warriors. Daratrazanoff s guard the prince.”

  “Well I’m sorry to tell you this, but they are definitely girls. Not sons. Daughters. I connected with both of them. There’s no doubt.”

  Mikhail leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “And you so deserve this, Gregori. You cannot imagine how much I’m going to enjoy watching you survive, not one, but two little daughters.”

  Gregori simply stood there looking as shocked as he was capable of looking. “How could I not know? I examined you myself.” He shook his head again. “You must be mistaken. I cannot be wrong.”

  “She hid.”

  His brows drew together. “That is unacceptable.”

  Mikhail laughed. “I’m certain your infant daughter will do exactly as you command, Gregori. And as toddlers, they will really listen to you.”

  “Savannah, I am serious. You talk to them,” Gregori commanded. “I cannot have one hiding from me when I make certain they are healthy.”

  “Your manner was gruff and you frightened her.”

  “I’m her father and I shouldn’t frighten her.”

  Mikhail sighed. “I’m bleeding and I have to be up and running in good form in a few minutes, so I suggest you get over your shock that the world doesn’t do everything you dictate and get on with healing me.”

  Gregori swung around, all cool elegance and danger. “You put her up to this, didn’t you, Mikhail?”

  “Put her up to giving you twin girls? If I had thought of it, I would have, but my imagination doesn’t stretch quite that far.” Mikhail shifted his leg and tried not to wince.

  At once Gregori was all business. “Savannah, stay away from the blood just in case it is as poisonous as I believe it to be.” He shed his body fast, becoming pure white light, a glowing energy that entered Mikhail’s body and moved quickly to the wound. As expected, the poison was a problem. He was thorough, making certain to chase down every drop, push it out of Mikhail’s body and heal his ankle from the inside out.

  “It is done, but it will be weak for a while. Stay off it as much as possible until you can go to ground and allow the soil to rejuvenate you.”

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d agree to lie down for an hour or two now and skip a small part of the festivities.”

  Mikhail felt Raven’s light touch brushing in his mind. Perhaps you should do as he says. She sounded anxious.

  “No.” I am fine, Raven, just a little tired. I want to come home and hold you for a while. That will do me more good than going to ground.

  Then come home.

  Did you hear the news? Did Savannah tell you? She carries twin girls.

  I heard. She is very excited. Raven didn’t add anything more and he knew she was trying to sound happy and brave for her daughter. Carry ing twins would be much more difficult than a single child and Raven was fully aware of that. She didn’t want the sorrow of losing children for her daughter.

  “I need to get home to Raven,” Mikhail said. “Savannah, sweetheart, as always you are so beautiful. I think pregnancy agrees with you. Have you kept this secret for long? To know if they are girls or boys you must be several months along.”

  “We didn’t want to say anything until we were certain I had a good chance of carrying.” She smiled up at Gregori and once again he leaned down to kiss her.

  “Son,” Mikhail said softly, putting a hand on Gregori’s back.

  The Dark One stiffened and spun around, his silver eyes going molten. “Son?” he echoed. “Since when does my prince address his second in command and oldest friend in this manner?”

  Mikhail’s lips twitched. Inside, where only Raven could hear, he was roaring with laughter, but he managed to keep his mask intact. “You are family—my son-in-law, and I think of you as son upon occasion,” Mikhail said rubbing his temples as if they ached, looking as pitiful and tired as he could.

  “Oh, you do, do you?” Gregori folded his arms across his chest and cast a suspicious look around the room. Colorful flies and beetles clung to the walls and windowpanes. Some crawled from beneath the door to join the others. He glared at the insects and swung his gaze back to his father-in-law. “There seems to be an inordinate amount of bugs invading my home. I think we need a particularly venomous pesticide. Your sudden paternal feelings don’t have anything to do with the insects, do they?”

  Mikhail groaned softly.

  “Gregori!” Savannah scowled at him. “My father is in terrible pain. He’s treating you like family and you’re not at all being nice. Get him a pillow for his back.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart, but I cannot really stay. I need to finish up the details for tonight. I’m certain what ever you made will be fine, and if it isn’t, there will be plenty of other dishes.” Mikhail swung his legs back down to the floor and waited a moment for the pain to subside. Gregori was right. He had healed the wound as best he could and removed the poison, but it was tender and raw. He needed to go to ground to complete the process and until morning, he would have to live with the ache.

  “Here, Dad,” Gregori said with heavy sarcasm, “let me help you up. Is there anything else you need?”

  Mikhail allowed him to help him to the door. “Now that you mention it, son, yes.” He wrapped his arm around Savannah and kissed her cheek. “Congratulations, honey, I will look forward to having grandda
ughters.” He smiled at Gregori. “I’d like you to play the role of Santa Claus for the children tonight. It’s a big responsibility and obviously you’re the best choice for the job.” He pulled a red cap topped with a white knitted snowball out of the air and plopped it on top of Gregori’s head. “I’ve brought along the costume, although there’s some controversy over whether Santa wears red tights or not.” He waved the tights under Gregori’s nose.

  Gregori snatched the tights from Mikhail’s hand and the hat from his head. “Mikhail…” His teeth came together in a loud snap of warning. “You wouldn’t dare do that to me.” He looked around the room at the insects decorating his walls. “I see now why my brothers have decided to visit.” He waved his hands creating a wild wind that blew like a cyclone through the house.

  The insects wavered, shifting into men, all laughing uproariously. Lucian clapped him on the back and Gabriel ruff ed his hair. “Congratulations, little brother, you drew the short stick.”

  “You all knew about this?” Gregori demanded. He made a grab for Mikhail, but the prince was already out the door with a cheery little wave.

  Darius touched fists with Julian, the pair of them grinning at each other. The others whooped with laughter.

  “Out,” Gregori ordered. “Every last one of you.”

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing the cap on your head again.” Darius wiggled his fingers as if Gregori should spin around and model for them.

  “Put on the tights,” Jacques encouraged.

  “Get. Out.” Gregori enunciated each word.

  “Sure, sonny boy,” Julian snorted. “We’ll leave you to practice for your command performance tonight.”

  Another whoop of laughter filled the house, threatening to take off the roof. Gregori held open the door and simply pointed. The men filed out, large grins on their faces.

  Gregori kicked the door closed and turned to his lifemate. “I’m killing your father. I’ve decided the Carpathian people can do without him just fine.”

  Savannah pressed her hand tightly over her mouth. “It’s really an honor.” The words came out muff ed as she choked on her laughter.