Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Ainaak olenszal sivambin. “Your life will be cherished by me for all time.” The words vibrated through her, so that she pressed closer, pushing against his thigh, easing the terrible aching emptiness, wanting to fill it with him.

  She cried out when his mouth settled over her breast, drawing her sensitive nipple into his mouth right through the sheer lace of her gold peekaboo bra. He suckled strongly, his tongue flicking, teeth scraping. All the while she heard his voice murmuring in her head.

  Te elidet ainaak pide minan. “Your life will be placed above my own for all time.”

  His tongue danced and laved. He lifted his head, his gaze holding a mesmerizing dark possession. “And your pleasure.” Once more he captured her mouth, stealing her breath, taking her will, lighting a fire in her veins.

  His mouth burned a trail of flames from her throat to her breast, his teeth teasing and nipping with tiny little bites, each one sending a rush of hot, welcoming liquid sizzling through her feminine channel. She was weak with wanting him. She nearly whimpered when his mouth found her other breast, pulling strongly, until she could no longer think clearly. She arched into him, wrapping her leg more firmly around him, aligning their bodies so she could press tightly into him.

  Te avio päläfertiilam. Ainaak sivamet jutta oleny. Ainaak terad vigyazak. “You are my lifemate. You are bound to me for all eternity. You are always in my care.”

  He lifted his head and once more found the spot where he had marked her. His teeth sank deep. Fire burned, pain flashed through her like a storm, then pleasure so sweet, so erotic, she moved with restless abandon against him, cradling his head, holding him to her while his long, inky hair spilled over her arms and she buried her face in the silky strands. She felt herself slipping further and further from the woman she knew into another realm entirely.

  He murmured something else in his language, his voice so sensual, she pushed aside the small warning going off in her head and kept her face buried in the silk of his hair because nothing in her life had ever felt so right. She belonged. She’d found what she’d always been looking for. Content with her life, she had always assumed she would grow old and die with the comfort she’d achieved, but now this was a gift. Passion. Excitement. Belonging. It was all hers.

  There was nothing shy about MaryAnn. She had chosen to abstain from sex simply because she would not share her body with a man she didn’t trust, didn’t love, a man she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life with, but at that moment, she knew Manolito De La Cruz was her other half. She would share everything with him, was eager to do so.

  His tongue swept across her breast, making her shiver with need. His voice whispered again, and the strangest thing happened. She found herself standing off to the side observing as she ran her hands beneath his shirt and pushed it up his chest, revealing the defined muscles flowing beneath his skin and the shredded rips in his belly where the jaguar had raked him. Her hand slid up over the terrible claw marks, her palm covering them, infusing them with warmth. She saw herself press kisses up his belly and chest to a point just above his heart.

  Her tongue found the pulse she was looking for, that steady, strong beat. Her body clenched in anticipation, throbbing and weeping with need. Her hand slid over the spot, and she stared at her fingernail, the one she’d broken earlier. It lengthened into a sharp talon. To her shock, she opened his skin and pressed her mouth willingly to his chest. He groaned and threw back his head, ecstasy mixing with passion. His hand came up to hold her to him, urging her to take more. And she did. There appeared to be no revulsion, no hesitation. Her body writhed against his, a sensuous slide of curves, an invitation for much, much more.

  And he took her up on it, his hands rough, intimate, possessive. He yanked at her clothes, wanting bare skin against his. When she rubbed her body along the thick, hard bulge straining his jeans, he shuddered and murmured his approval; he cupped her bottom and half lifted her to align their bodies so that he was pressed against her most intimate spot.

  As if she knew exactly what to do, how much she could take of the hot, addicting exchange, she swept her tongue across the wound and lifted her head to look into his mesmerizing eyes. She looked different, her eyes dark and sultry, her lips curved and voluptuous, so sexy she couldn’t believe it was her, so ready to do anything and everything Manolito would ask of her. She wanted to please him, pleasure him, and have him do the same for her.

  He smiled down at her and her heart went crazy, reacting every bit as strongly as her body.

  Päläfertiil. “Wife.” He kissed the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth, hovered there, a breath away, looking into her eyes. Tell me your name that your koje, your husband, will be better able to address you.

  MaryAnn gasped as the words sunk in. He couldn’t have done worse if he’d thrown a bucket of ice water over her. MaryAnn blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What in the world was she doing wrapped around a man who didn’t even know her name, but professed to be her husband? And what in the world had gotten into her that she let someone mesmerize her to the point of doing things totally against everything she believed in? Manolito made her weak. He’d taken complete control of her, and she’d just gone along with it as if he could rule her life with sex.

  Fury burst through her, a fury she’d felt only one other time before, when a man had burst into her home and threatened to kill her. He dragged her out of her bed, punching her viciously before she could defend herself, throwing her to the floor and kicking her. He had leaned down and stabbed her with a knife, and when the blade had gone into her flesh, something wild and ugly and out of control had lifted its head and raged. She’d felt her muscles bunch and knot, and strength had poured into her. At that moment Destiny had arrived, and she’d killed the man, saving MaryAnn’s life and maybe her soul, because whatever had been inside of her frightened her more than her attacker.

  MaryAnn was a woman who absolutely abhorred violence and could never condone it, yet now she had an indescribable desire to slap that handsome face as hard as she could. Instead she leapt away, at the same time screaming in her mind. She put every bit of fear and loathing at herself and her own actions into her cry because no one could hear her, and no one would know the terror she lived with trying to contain that slumbering beast dwelling deep within her.

  Get away from me. For one terrible moment she didn’t know if she was yelling at Manolito—or at whatever lived inside of her.

  Manolito staggered, fell back into the broad trunk of a tree and stood shocked and staring. No one had ever delivered him a psychic slap before, but that was what his lifemate had done to him. Not just any slap, but one hard enough to knock him off his feet. No one had dared treat him in such a manner, not in all the centuries of his existence.

  Dark anger crawled through his belly. She had no right to deny him—or defy him. He had a right to the solace of her body whenever he wanted it. She was his. Her body was his. Blood pounded and surged through his veins. His cock was filled to bursting. He’d waited a thousand years—more even—faithful to this one woman and she was denying him.

  “I could make you crawl to me and beg forgiveness for that,” he snapped, his black eyes smoldering with dark, telling smoke. He could feel the pull of her, so powerful he couldn’t stop the frenzy his body had gone into. Hard and hot and crawling with such a need—the feeling was far worse than any hunger for sustenance. He drank in the sight of her, shocked at her beauty. Her skin was so soft-looking he ached to run his fingers over it, to slide his body over hers, into hers. She had full, luscious curves and a mouth he couldn’t stop staring at, sinful and wicked and so tempting his body hardened into one long, painful ache. He imagined her fingers on him, her mouth, her body surrounding his, tight and hot and killing him with pleasure.

  He needed to bury his face in her wealth of blue black curls, inhale her scent and keep it for all time in his lungs. He needed the warmth of her arms and the sound of her laughter. But his body needi
ng sating first. He couldn’t look at her and not want to be inside her, not want to ravage her, bring her to fulfillment, to have her cry out his name. He wanted her on her knees in front of him, wanted her to admit she belonged to him and no one else, admit that she wanted—even needed—to give him the ultimate pleasure of her body.

  MaryAnn wasn’t certain exactly what had happened. He’d fallen back, but she’d only yelled at him, the arrogant ass. In any case, crawling didn’t figure into her plans. And begging forgiveness wasn’t exactly her style. He looked furious, and dangerous, and altogether far too handsome for his own good. A spoiled, arrogant man whom everyone had obviously catered to all of his life. Women must have done whatever he said, when he commanded it. And he must have done a lot of commanding.

  She bit down hard on her lip to keep from telling him to go to hell, because…MaryAnn spread her hands out. “Look, I’m as much to blame as you are. I had choices here.” She wasn’t going to blame just him. She was a grown woman and believed in responsibility, although nothing that had happened to her since entering the rain forest had been normal. “I bought into the entire lifemate thing because you’re…well…you’re gorgeous. What woman wouldn’t want you?” And she’d reached the point she’d been darned sure she was never going to experience soul-searing, hot-as-hell, unforgettable sex. Manolito looked like a man who could—and would—deliver it. So yeah, she was guilty, but he could forget all about her crawling to him for forgiveness.

  Manolito studied his lifemate’s face, gently probing her brain at the same time for some clue as to what their relationship had been like. Stormy obviously. And her name was MaryAnn. MaryAnn Delaney. He was hazy about details, such as when and where they’d been first together, but he knew the addicting taste of her. He felt a driving need to dominate, to hear her breathless pleas and see ecstasy cloud her eyes.

  He had reconfirmed the sealing of their souls in the age-old ritual because his mind had insisted he do so. But she was a woman who needed a firm hand. Stripping her naked, yanking her across his knees and delivering it to her unbelievably beautiful bottom was something he’d take pleasure in doing. And then he’d lay her out and taste her, eat her, lap up every drop of that feminine cream, memorize every luscious curve, learn what drove her mad until she did beg him for forgiveness. And then he would bring her over and over to the brink of fulfillment, until she knew just who her lifemate really was.

  He took a step toward her and something crossed her face, fear maybe. He didn’t want her afraid of him, not really, although a little healthy fear might win him some cooperation. Confusion for certain. He stopped when she backed away from him and looked around as if she might run.

  “I could never harm my lifemate, you should know that. At most I would find a pleasurable punishment, one I could be certain you would ultimately enjoy.”

  MaryAnn frowned at him. “Whatever you’re talking about you can forget. I’m too old to be punished. Look, we’ve made a mistake. Both of us. I came out here with the intention of counseling Juliette’s sister, and Riordan told me you were in trouble. I’ve never actually been introduced to you before. We’ve never met. I saw you in the Carpathian Mountains, at the Christmas party, right before you were attacked, and a few times in the distance, but we were never introduced. I have no psychic ability. I’m a normal human being who counsels women in need.”

  Manolito shook his head. Could this be the truth? “Impossible. You are no stranger to me. You are the other half of me. My soul recognizes yours. We are sealed as one. You belong to me and me to you.” He pushed an impatient hand through his long, silky hair, then reached back to tie it with a leather thong he drew from his pocket.

  Maniacal laughter slid into his head, so that he whipped around, scanning in every direction, his body language changing to protective. He leapt the distance separating them and placed her behind him.

  “What is it?”

  “You did not hear anything?” He knew what was out there. The vampires emerging slowly out of the shadows to stare with pitiless eyes and gaping maws for mouths, to point bony fingers in accusation at him.

  MaryAnn listened but only heard the annoying call of cicadas and other insects. Who knew they’d be so loud. She shook her head, feeling her heart break for him. “Tell me, Manolito. You look so sad. You should never be sad.” She willed him to be happy. To go back to being furious and smoldering instead of lost and lonely.

  He turned then, catching her upper arms and dragging her close, staring down into her guileless face and meeting her eyes for one long, endless minute. He raised one hand to her face. The pad of his thumb slid along her high cheekbone, regret etching deep lines around his eyes and mouth. “I just found you, MaryAnn, but if you do not hear the voices, it means I am not quite sane. I do not remember things. I have no idea whom I can trust. I thought you…” He trailed off, groaned softly and covered his face with his hands. “It is true then. I am losing my mind.”

  “I’m human, Manolito, not Carpathian. I don’t see and hear the things you are able to see.”

  Manolito wished that were true, but the ground was rippling beneath their feet and she didn’t see the face in the leaves or the disturbed soil forming a mocking mouth. He stood very still for a time before lifting his head, while the rain poured steadily down.

  “You must leave me. Go back to where you feel most safe. Stay away from me. I do not know why I believe you belong to me, but I fear for my sanity—and for your safety. Go now, quickly, before I lose my resolve.”

  Because he couldn’t bear the thought of her being out of his sight. Until that moment he hadn’t realized how much he needed her. His needs no longer mattered. She had to be safe—even from him—especially from him.

  There it was—her freedom. She looked around her. The rain forest was dark and somber but for the water. It was everywhere, forming both small and large waterfalls, finding new paths and converging into wide, rushing streams. The water poured down, relentless and steady, adding to the falls pouring out of the rocks and dirt. She was so out of her element here, so completely without a clue what to do.

  Manolito appeared just the opposite, even if it was true that he was losing his mind. He was at ease in the world, confident and powerful, his eyes once more searching the area around them, trying to assess the danger to them—no—that was wrong—he was trying to assess the danger to her.

  She took a deep breath and slipped her hand into his. “We can figure this out together. Are you hearing voices now?”

  “Yes, mocking laughter. And I see vampires in the ground, in the trees, in the shrubbery. They are surrounding us.”

  MaryAnn closed her eyes briefly. Just great. And she’d been worried about jaguars. Vampires were much worse. Reaching with her free hand, she settled her fingers around the canister of pepper spray. “Okay. Show me what you see. You can do that, right? Open your mind to mine.”

  He felt her moving inside his mind, already merging and stretching to meet him. She seemed unaware of it, but the integration was initiated by her. Her mind slid easily and seamlessly into his. Her fingers tightened around his. A tremor went through her body.

  You see them.

  MaryAnn stared around her at the hideous faces. No wonder he didn’t know reality from illusion. The vampires were all too real there in his mind. At least she thought they were there in his mind. “Do you trust me?” she asked.

  “With my soul,” he answered promptly. He believed she was his lifemate and there could be no betrayal, no lies between them. And if he was wrong, so be it. He would die protecting her.

  “Let go of my mind and I’ll get us out of here.” She tried to step in front of him, gripping the canister of pepper spray hard, prepared to do battle with whatever came their way, so she could get him to safety.

  He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. “I am not the one holding the merger. You are. I cannot release you; only you can do that.”

  She moved closer to him as if for protection.
“I can’t be the one holding the merge. I’m not psychic.”

  “It is going to be all right, ainaak enyem. Forever mine,” he translated. “I will not allow harm to come to you while we dwell in lamti ból jüti, kinta, ja szelem.”

  “I don’t speak your language.” And whatever he’d said couldn’t have been very good. It sounded demonic. She braced herself for the translation.

  “The literal meaning is the meadow of nights, mists and ghosts. We seem to be partially in our world and in some measure in the nether-world. I am not certain how that occurred or why, but we have to find our way out.”

  “I was afraid it might be something like that.” She so didn’t belong in this world. She didn’t even watch horror films. “All right, tell me what to do, because that really ugly vampire to our left is moving closer.”

  The world was gray. A dull, veiled gray with shrouds of fog hanging like moss, draping along sticks of blackened tree branches. And there were insects everywhere. Big ones, flying around her face and every available inch of exposed skin. She whipped out the bug spray and doused them with a burst from the canister. The mixture came out of the nozzle a weird grayish green vapor, drifting slowly and thickening as it went. The sound was a slow hiss, animal-like, overly loud in the sudden quiet of the world.

  “They don’t make any noise,” she whispered to Manolito. “The bugs. It’s so quiet here.”

  Immediately ghoulish heads turned, and demonic, glowing eyes bored into her. Shock registered. The vampires looked at one another, then back at her. A murmur of glee rose, and one of the vampires pushed closer, his hideous mouth gaping open to expose pegs of stained teeth filed to a razor-sharp point.

  “Delighted to have you join us,” the vampire hissed, his foul breath hot on her skin. “It is long since I dined.”

  Steam rose around them, enveloping them in a thick fog. Manolito dragged her into his arms, wrapping them around her head to keep her from seeing the monsters as they moved closer, the pitiless eyes staring hungrily at her neck.