Instinct, more than actual sound, alerted him and Manolito spun around, still on his knees, hands going up just as the large jaguar sprang at him.
2
Clinical depression was an insidious monster that crept up and slid over and into a person before they had the chance to be aware and on guard. MaryAnn Delaney wiped at the seemingly endless tears running down her face as she went through the list of symptoms. Feelings of sadness. Check. Maybe even double check.
Sadness wasn’t the word she would use to describe the terrible yawning emptiness she couldn’t overcome, but it was in the book and she’d add it to the growing list of indicators. She was so freakin’ sad she couldn’t stop crying. And she could put a check on the no appetite because the mere thought of food made her sick. She hadn’t been able to sleep since…
She closed her eyes and groaned. Manolito De La Cruz was a stranger. She’d barely spoken to the man, yet when she’d witnessed his death—his murder—she had gone quietly to pieces. She seemed to be grieving more than his family. She knew they were distraught, but they rarely showed emotion at all, and they certainly didn’t speak of him. They’d brought his body back in the same private jet they used to return to their ranch in Brazil, but they hadn’t taken him to their ranch.
Instead the plane had landed—with her on it—on a private tropical island somewhere in the middle of the Amazon River. And rather than give Manolito a proper burial, his brothers had taken his body to some undisclosed location in the rain forest. She couldn’t even sneak out and visit his grave. How absurd and desperate was that? Visiting the grave of a stranger in the dead of night because she couldn’t get over his death.
Was paranoia also creeping in, or was she right to worry that she had been brought to an island no one had mentioned when she was with her best friend, Destiny, in the Carpathian Mountains? Juliette and Riordan had asked her to come to counsel Juliette’s younger sister, a victim of sexual violence, and they often mentioned the ranch, but never a vacation home on a private island. The house was surrounded by thick forest. She doubted she could find her way back to the airstrip without a map and a machete-wielding guide.
She was a counselor, for heaven’s sake, yet she couldn’t find the discipline needed to overcome the growing desperation and suspicion, or the terrible, inexplicable anguish over Manolito’s death. She needed help. As a counselor she knew that, but the sorrow was growing and putting dangerous and frightening thoughts in her mind. She didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to explore the opulent house or the lush rain forest. She didn’t even want to get back on a plane and go home to her beloved city of Seattle. She wanted to find Manolito De La Cruz’s grave and crawl into it with him.
What in the world was wrong with her? She was normally a person who believed in the glass half-full philosophy. No matter what the circumstances, she could always look around her and find something humorous or beautiful to enjoy, but since the night she had attended the Carpathian celebration with Destiny, she had been so depressed she could barely function.
She’d managed to hide it at first. Everyone was so busy getting ready to leave the Carpathian Mountains and fly home, they hadn’t noticed she was quiet. Or if they had, they put it down to shyness. MaryAnn had agreed to come to Brazil in the hopes of helping Juliette’s younger sister before she had realized the emotional trouble she was in. She should have said something, but she’d kept thinking the grief would subside. She’d traveled with the De La Cruz family in their private jet. And the coffin. They had slept on the plane, as was their way during the day, but she’d sat alone by the coffin and cried. She’d cried so much her throat was raw and her eyes burned. It made no sense, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
The knock on her door startled her, made her heart jump and begin to pound. She had a job to do and the De La Cruz family would expect her to do it. The thought of trying to help someone else, when she couldn’t bear the thought of getting out of bed, was terrifying.
“MaryAnn.” Juliette’s voice was puzzled and a little alarmed. “Open the door. Riordan’s with me and we need to speak with you.”
She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Juliette probably had located her younger sister, who by all accounts had still been hiding out in the rain forest. Carpathians, vampires and jaguar people—sometimes she felt a little like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. “I’m still sleepy.” She lied. She couldn’t sleep if her life depended on it. All she could do was weep. And be scared. No matter how hard she tried to banish her fear and suspicion, the emotions wouldn’t go away.
Juliette rattled the door handle. “I’m sorry to disturb your rest, MaryAnn, but this is important. We need to talk to you.”
MaryAnn let out her breath. It was the second time Juliette had used the word “need.” Something was definitely up. She had to pull herself together. Wash her face. Brush her teeth. Try to manage her hair. She sat up, once more swiping at the tears running down her face. Riordan and Juliette were both Carpathian and could read her mind should they choose, but she knew it was considered bad manners when she was under the protection of the Carpathian people, and she was grateful for that consideration.
“Just a minute, Juliette, I was sleeping.”
They would know it was a lie. They might not read her mind, but they couldn’t fail to feel the waves of distress pouring off of her and filling the house.
She stumbled to the mirror and stared at her face in horror. There was no way to quickly hide the evidence of tears. And there was certainly no rescuing her hair. It was long, long enough if pulled straight to reach her waist, but she hadn’t thought to do it up in braids and the humidity had expanded her hair beyond all help. She looked ridiculous, her hair unmanageable and her eyes bright red.
“MaryAnn.” Juliette rattled the door handle. “I’m sorry, but we’re coming in. It’s really an emergency.”
MaryAnn took a deep breath and sank back onto the edge of the bed, averting her face as they came through the door. It didn’t help that Juliette was beautiful, with her cat’s eyes and her perfect hair, or that Riordan, like his brothers, was tall and broad-shouldered and sinfully handsome. She was so embarrassed, not only by the fact that her hair had grown into a mass the size of a beach ball, but that she couldn’t control the terrible grief that was threatening her very life. She was a strong woman, and nothing made sense since she had witnessed Manolito’s murder.
Juliette glided across the room toward the bed, her body compact and graceful, her gaze focused and alert, reminding MaryAnn of her jaguar ancestry. “MaryAnn, you’re not well.”
MaryAnn attempted a smile. “It’s just that I’ve been away from home a long time. I’m more of a city girl and this is all new to me.”
“When we were in the Carpathian Mountains, did you meet my brother Manolito?” Riordan watched MaryAnn with cool, assessing eyes.
MaryAnn felt the push of his questions in her mind. He had given her a mental shove. Her suspicions were well grounded. Something wasn’t right. She felt the blood drain from her face. She had trusted these people, and now she was trapped and vulnerable. They had powers few humans could comprehend. Her mouth went dry and she pressed her lips together, one hand fluttering toward her breast where a spot throbbed and burned, as she remained stubbornly silent.
Juliette cast her lifemate a quelling look. “It’s important, MaryAnn. Manolito is in trouble and we need information fast. Riordan loves his brother and he was using a shortcut that is expedient for our species, but not very respectful. I’m sorry for that.”
MaryAnn blinked up at her, tears swimming again in spite of her resolve. “He’s dead. I saw him die. And I felt it, the poison spreading through him, the last breath he took. I know he’s dead. I heard people talking that even Gregori couldn’t bring him back from the dead. And you brought his body back with us on the plane.” Just saying it aloud was difficult. She couldn’t add, in a coffin. Not with her heart feeling like a heavy stone in her chest.
“We�
��re Carpathian, MaryAnn, and not so easily killed.”
“I saw him die. I felt him die.” She’d screamed. Deep inside, where no one could hear, she had screamed her protest, trying to hold him to earth. She didn’t know why a stranger mattered so much, only that he had been so noble, so completely heroic to insert his body between danger and a pregnant woman. More, she had heard a rumor he had done the same with the prince of the Carpathians. Selfless in his protection, he had sacrificed himself for Mikhail Dubrinsky as well. And none of them seemed to care. They had rushed to the pregnant woman, leaving the fallen warrior down.
Juliette gave her lifemate another long, telling look. “You felt Manolito die?”
“Yes.” Her hand moved up to her throat, and for a moment it was hard to breathe. “His last breath.” It had been in her throat, in her lungs. “And then his heart stopped beating.” Her own heart had stuttered in answer as though it couldn’t beat without the rhythm of his. She moistened her lips with her tongue. “He died and everyone was more alarmed over the pregnant woman. She seemed so important, yet he died. I don’t understand any of you. Or this place.” She pushed back the wild mass of hair and rocked gently. “I need to go home. I know I said I’d work with your sister, but the heat is making me sick.”
“I don’t think it’s the heat, MaryAnn,” Juliette objected. “I think you’re having a reaction to what happened to Manolito. You’re depressed and grieving, yet you hardly knew him.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Juliette sighed. “I know it doesn’t seem to, but were you ever alone with him?”
MaryAnn shook her head. “I saw him a few times in the crowd.” He’d been so good-looking, it had been impossible not to notice him. She considered herself to be a very sensible woman, but the man had stolen her breath away. She had even delivered the verbal smack-down to herself when she realized she was staring at him like a starstruck teenager. She knew Carpathians only had one partner. He might have used her for food, but beyond that, there was no hope for anything else.
In any case, she couldn’t live with a man like Manolito De La Cruz. He was overbearing and arrogant, an ancient Carpathian male influenced in the worst possible Neanderthal ways by centuries of living in South America. She, on the other hand, was a very independent woman raised in an upper-middle-class family in the United States. And she’d seen way too many battered women to ever consider being with a man who had a domineering attitude toward women. But even knowing all that, even knowing Manolito De La Cruz was the last man in the world she could ever have a relationship with, she’d still looked.
“You were never alone with him? Not even for a short period of time?” Juliette questioned, this time looking her in the eye.
MaryAnn could see tiny red flames in the depths of those turquoise eyes. Cat’s eyes. A huntress inside the body of a beautiful woman. Behind Juliette stood her lifemate, and nothing at all could conceal the predator in him.
MaryAnn felt a hard “push,” not from Juliette, but from Riordan, once again pressing to get past her natural barriers to find her memories. “Stop it!” she said, her voice sharp with sudden fury. “I want to go home.” She didn’t trust any of them.
She looked around at the opulent wealth and knew she was in a silken trap. She could barely function with the terror building. “I can’t breathe.” She pushed past Juliette and staggered toward the bathroom. She could see the killer in both of them, monsters lurking beneath the smooth, civilized facade. They had sworn to protect her, but they had brought her to this place of heat and oppression, away from all aid, and now they were stalking her. She needed help and everyone was too far away.
Juliette held up her hand, a frown settling over her face. We’re scaring her, Riordan. Stop pushing at her. Listen to her heart. She is very frightened, beyond what should be normal. Is it possible whatever is affecting Manolito is affecting her?
Riordan was silent a moment. MaryAnn had always struck him as a strong, courageous woman. Although he didn’t know her very well, she seemed to be acting out of character. If she is his lifemate, then it might be so. But how could she be his lifemate? Why wouldn’t he make his claim on her and put her under the protection of our family? It makes no sense, Juliette. He should not have awakened. Gregori locked him to earth, and when we brought him home, we took him to the richest soil in the rain forest and Zacarias ensured he would stay in the ground. I know of no others more powerful. How is it possible Manolito awakened before his time?
Could the bond between lifemates override a binding command from the healer or from the head of our family?
Riordan rubbed his chin. The truth was he just didn’t know.
Well she’s scared to death and we have to do something. Juliette took a deep, calming breath. “MaryAnn, I can see you’re very distraught. I’m going to ask Riordan to step out of the room and we can talk about what’s bothering you.”
MaryAnn ignored her and ran the last few steps to the huge bathroom, slamming the door closed and locking it. She raced to the sink and turned on the water, hoping it would deter Juliette from following her. Splashing cold water on her face helped to clear her mind, although she was shaking, frightened at the thought of what she had to do. It wouldn’t be easy to escape from the Carpathians. She had little defense against them, but Gregori, second in command and guardian of the prince, had been the one to put her under his protection, and he had given her a few safeguards. She just had to use them and keep from panicking until she could find her way back to the airstrip.
She had always had a sixth sense about danger, yet she hadn’t seen this coming. Now the fear was growing inside of her, blossoming into full-blown terror. She couldn’t trust these people. They weren’t at all what they seemed. Everything was wrong. The huge estate, with its layers of beauty, was only designed to lure the unwary into the hands of the monsters. She should have seen through them all. Gregori should have seen through them all. Was it a huge conspiracy? Were they all involved?
No, she would never believe it of her best friend, Destiny, or Destiny’s lifemate, Nicolae. They needed to be warned. Maybe they were already in trouble, or maybe it was just the De La Cruz family who had aligned themselves with the vampires. Spies in the Carpathian camp. All along there had been something different about them. She shouldn’t have trusted them.
She stared at herself in the mirror, the red, swollen eyes, the signs of grief ravaging her face. The spot over her breast that never quite healed throbbed and burned. She had been certain it was a bite of some kind that she was allergic to. She’d had it ever since she’d been in the Carpathian Mountains, but now she feared it was far more. Perhaps Juliette or Riordan or Rafael De La Cruz had marked her in some way.
She had wanted to go home, desperate to be away from the violence of the Carpathian world, but Juliette had come to her with a story about her younger sister, one MaryAnn had been unable to brush aside, even though her grief and despair had been overwhelming. Was Jasmine even real? MaryAnn doubted it. They were supposed to be at a huge cattle ranch in Brazil, one where during the day many people surrounded them, but Colby and Rafael, Juliette’s brother-in-law and his lifemate, along with Colby’s brother and sister, had gotten off the plane at a private airport, and MaryAnn had continued on with Riordan and Juliette to an island.
She was trapped. MaryAnn drew in her breath and let it out slowly. She would not die in this place. She was a fighter, and she would somehow get word to Destiny and Nicolae that this branch of Carpathians was traitors. Fear skittered down her spine as she realized what she had to do. Escape into the rain forest, find her way back to the airstrip and somehow get the pilot to take her to an airport where she could catch a flight home. Hastily she looked around the huge room, trying to figure out what she could take with her.
Nothing. There was nothing. She would have to improvise. She went to the window and peered out. The grounds were fairly wild, the rain forest creeping toward the house like an insidious invader, vines an
d shrubs stretching toward the courtyard. It would be a short run. She caught the edge of the window and attempted to lift.
MaryAnn.
She shrieked, nearly jumping out of her skin, pressing her hand to her pounding heart as she whirled around. Vapor streamed under the door and through the small keyhole. Juliette and Riordan shimmered into human form, Riordan by the window, Juliette by the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Riordan demanded, his black eyes snapping with fury. “You would be killed within five minutes of entering the forest. We are responsible for your safety.”
His voice seemed slow to her ears, a growling rumble that reminded her of demons she’d seen in movies, as if the sound was being played far too slow. Fear beat at her, rage filled her and confusion reigned. The counselor in her stepped back to try to make sense of the jumble of emotions pouring in.
“MaryAnn,” Juliette spoke gently. “I know you’re puzzled by the things that you’re feeling, but we think we have an explanation. We think that Manolito bound you to him in the way of our people. Riordan has reached out to him on their shared path and yet Manolito resists him, fearing him to be vampire, just as you are afraid of us. He claims he has a lifemate, and here you are, in despair, grieving for a man you say you’ve never met. Does that make sense to you? Something is happening here, and for both of your sakes we need to figure out what it is.”
Riordan rubbed his temples as if they ached. There was worry in his eyes. “I fear for my brother’s safety as well as his life. He seems confused, and one cannot be confused in the rain forest. We have powerful enemies. He is in terrible danger. He trusts no one but his life-mate. If you are that woman, you are the only one who can save him.”
Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS Page 157