Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  “Do you really believe that, Maxim? Do you think Xavier has the power to bring you back? He created the shadow-warrior spell when he was at his peak. Now he is an old worm, feeding on the blood of young children and claiming lesser mages’ magic. Do you really believe he can bring you out of here?”

  “You. You are going to bring us out,” Maxim snapped, the truth spilling explosively. Spittle sprayed from his mouth and the flames in his eyes leapt even higher. “So smug like always, little man. That is what you really are. Your brothers knew the truth. You are a little man who whines to become someone of importance. You think to fight us, but you cannot. You never could. You dared to enter my world, and you had the opportunity once again to join us. Twice I have given you the chance.”

  “You wanted me to slay my lifemate.”

  “You would have joined our ranks and served me. With your brains, we could have gone far, but you never could see the bigger picture. You wanted to fawn on that fool Dubrinsky. And you never understood, not even Zacarias understood: Vlad Dubrinsky betrayed you for his son. He betrayed all of us for his son.”

  Manolito stiffened, his mind racing. The answer was right in front of him if he could just fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Maxim wanted to tell him, wanted to show his superiority; Manolito just had to have patience and lead him in that direction. “Do you think your childish taunts are going to impress me the way they do your ridiculous dogs?” Deliberately his gesture took in the vampires desperate for Maxim’s attention. “I am a hunter. I have been a hunter for a thousand years. You have become amusing, the greatness in you long gone. You turned yourself into a puppet for the likes of Xavier.”

  Maxim looked as if he might explode. His eyes spun in the deep sockets, glowing red orange and yellow. He spewed venom from between his teeth, the acid landing on Manolito’s skin, where it sizzled and smoked.

  Manolito remained stoic beneath the attack, never blinking, never changing expression, simply watching Maxim with that same small smile of contempt that continued to get under the vampire’s skin.

  “You know nothing. Nothing. You also thought your intellect superior to everyone’s. You and your precious brothers. Zacarias ordering us to follow that murdering, sniveling prince. Dubrinsky could have a female killed, but not his own son, and the De La Cruz brothers follow like puppies.”

  Manolito rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Like you are doing with Xavier. Believing in his lies. He does not want to be fodder for the undead. He will tell you whatever you want to hear.”

  “I saw the portal,” Maxim snapped. “And she will return. You are the conduit. She will come for you when she hears you screaming.”

  Manolito felt his heart jump, but he kept his expression the same, careful to keep his gaze filled with contempt and not blink at the revelation. He had expected it, but hearing it brought fear for MaryAnn. He pushed emotion down somewhere deep and faced the master vampire. “It will be interesting to see you do that.”

  “At this very moment my puppets do my bidding, attacking her while your body lies vulnerable. We will burn it and there will be no hope for your return. She will hear you screaming and she will merge with you fully as she did before. Once she is here, we can use her living spirit to return.”

  Manolito tasted fear now, but he forced his heart to beat with an easy rhythm. “And just how do you intend to make me scream, Maxim? So far you have failed utterly.”

  Maxim smirked. “There is only one capable of following every path of communication.” He waved his arms, satisfaction glowing in his eyes. “Meet Draven Dubrinsky, Mikhail’s older brother.”

  Manolito turned, and Vlad’s son stood behind him, glowing with the power of his family’s legacy, his eyes bright with hatred, his handsome face twisted with malice.

  “She will come for you,” he agreed. He stood tall, his arms out from his side, and Manolito felt the power of his mind-merge the moment it hit him.

  17

  The vampire crashed through what remained of the barrier surrounding MaryAnn, shredding Manolito’s safeguards. The creature’s talons were extended in an effort to reach Manolito’s body as it sat on the deck high in the canopy. The werewolf met the undead in midair, the two slamming together, the wolf driving the vampire backward with the force of her forward momentum. Like a child protecting a cub, she slashed relentlessly at the vampire as they fell together.

  They dropped toward the forest floor, the wolf on top of the undead, the two writhing forms breaking branches as the vampire hit bough after bough with his back as they fell one hundred and fifty feet. All around them the jungle came alive with the noise of the battle, the shriek of hundreds of birds, the cries of the monkeys, the growls of the vampire and the crack of splintering wood as they plummeted the distance.

  The vampire clamped his spikes of teeth into the wolf ’s shoulder and tore, savaging with talons, raking at the wolf ’s belly. MaryAnn felt the talons digging deep; she could even hear the sound of flesh and fur being torn from the wolf. Her stomach lurched, but the wolf knocked the head aside, tearing the teeth from her shoulder, ignoring the blossoming pain as flesh shredded and blood spattered across the leaves.

  The vampire hit the ground, half-formed, trying to dissolve out from under the wolf, but MaryAnn’s guardian was relentless, teeth driving for the throat, claws digging through the chest wall for the withered, blackened heart. It was instinctive, an age-old legacy passed in collective memory from one generation to the next. Deep inside where nothing could touch her, MaryAnn vowed never to go anywhere without her pepper spray. The wolf could have blinded the vampire with it and at least given herself a reprieve from those terrible teeth.

  She landed on top of the vampire, and they rolled, the vampire hissing, its breath fetid. The creature reeked of decaying flesh, offending the wolf ’s acute sense of smell. The vampire grabbed the wolf and threw it, taking the opportunity to dissolve into vapor and stream upward toward the deck on the canopy.

  MaryAnn’s heart crashed against her chest. She heard herself screaming, tried to reach, tried to take over the body so she could get to Manolito, but the wolf was already in motion, leaping up the tree branches with incredible speed, springing for the vampire as he reformed beside Manolito’s body. This time the wolf caught the vampire’s head in her claws and wrenched. The vampire’s neck snapped and the head flopped to one side. Growling, eyes glowing with hot rage, the creature lowered his shoulder and drove the wolf backward, once again taking them over the edge of the railing.

  MaryAnn felt herself falling, felt the slam of branches against her back, but all the while the wolf was in control, muzzle burrowing toward the prize of the undead’s heart. Blood coated the wolf ’s body, burning like acid, searing bone-deep, but the guardian refused to stop. In desperation, the vampire threw himself off the wolf, and both landed hard on the ground.

  Riordan De La Cruz materialized out of the air, just as the vampire lurched to his feet. Riordan slammed his fist deep into the chest of the vampire and ripped out the heart. Tossing it to one side, he whirled to face the wolf. The guardian staggered as she managed to stand, shaking with the pain and trauma of her injuries.

  Riordan lifted an eyebrow. “MaryAnn?”

  The wolf nodded and reached behind her for support, leaning against a tree. She nodded toward the heart as it rolled toward the vampire’s body.

  “Yes, of course,” Riordan reached toward the sky, covering his shock. At once storm clouds boiled and thunder rolled. Lightning veined the darker clouds and then slammed into the heart and incinerated it. Next he directed the white-hot energy toward the vampire’s body.

  To MaryAnn’s astonishment, her wolf leaned into the crackling energy stream. Rather than incinerating her, the energy dissolved the acid-laced blood from her arms and body. Staggering back, the guardian once more leaned against the tangled roots of a tree, her sides heaving, breath coming in ragged gasps. Pain burned through her body, but she had kept Manolito alive. She couldn�
�t wait another moment to check on him. To touch him. She needed him desperately.

  Leaping to the lower branches of the tall tree, she climbed her way to the deck. Manolito was still sitting, his body a little slumped to one side, but he looked as if he were resting. She let out her breath and sank down beside him.

  MaryAnn reached for her body, thanking the sentinel, grateful for the aid it had provided. She could never have defeated the vampire in her more fragile human body. It gave her a sense of gratitude to the other species who shared the world with her, thankful that they cared enough to keep everyone as safe as possible. The wolf made her feel safe.

  You are the wolf, the feminine voice inside assured her.

  MaryAnn closed her eyes and expanded, drawing the guardian deeper into her soul. This time the process was much faster, as the wolf leapt for its den and she emerged, with much more ease than she had let go. Her body reshaped with a minimum of distress, although the moment she was in her human form, the pain of her wounds escalated until tears burned and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from moaning.

  “I have destroyed the jaguar and mage as well, and cleaned up the mess the vampire’s blood caused in the soil and on the trees and foliage, so I am coming up.”

  MaryAnn didn’t understand the warning in Riordan’s voice for a moment, until she looked down at her body. She needed clothes. She had no clothes. Panic rose. Her clothes were her armor. Her courage. Her fashion sense got her through everything. She couldn’t face him without clothes on. She actually began to hyperventilate.

  “No! You can’t come up here. I’m not dressed.”

  He muttered something in his impatient tone, and she found herself in a faded plaid shirt, loose-fitting jeans and very old sneakers. Then he was standing in front of her, frowning.

  “I am going to have to heal your wound. I will need to take a look at it. Vampires have been leaving little parasites behind lately when they bite.”

  She barely heard him, too busy staring down at her clothes in dismay. “I know you don’t think I’m going to be wearing these—these…” She trailed off, her fingertips holding the hem of the shirt out while she looked up at him, appalled.

  His frown deepened to a scowl. “Those are called clothes.”

  “Oh, no they’re not. Rags maybe.” She patted her tight braid to make certain it was still intact. She might be fighting vampires and jaguars, but she was going to look good doing it. “These are not clothes.” Moving her arm, when her shoulder was already on fire, had her wincing visibly. Of course he saw it. He was far more interested in the vampire bite than her fashion problem.

  Riordan crouched down to examine his brother. “Juliette never worries about her clothes. She just wears whatever.”

  “I’m well aware that girl needs a serious makeover,” MaryAnn said. In more ways than one. Juliette also needed a few counseling sessions on dealing with overbearing men.

  Riordan glanced up at her, and his smile made her breath catch in her lungs. For just one moment, in that sliver of moonlight, he had looked like his brother. The flash was there and then it was gone, and her desperation to be with Manolito grew.

  Riordan straightened slowly, as the smile faded from MaryAnn’s face. “You did well. I owe you a tremendous debt. Our entire family does, MaryAnn. Thank you for saving my brother’s life.”

  The sincerity in his voice was her undoing. If she’d been wearing her best clothes, she could have handled it all with dignity, but no, he had to put her in some horrible, wretched outfit and she just crumpled under the pressure. She heard herself blubber. He looked alarmed and even took a step back, holding up one hand.

  “Don’t cry. That was a compliment. Don’t start crying. Your shoulder must be hurting. Let me take a look at it.”

  “It’s the clothes.” She hiccupped. “Change them fast.”

  “Give me a picture, then.”

  He sounded as desperate as she felt. She could not stand here sobbing like a baby when Manolito was facing that other world and whatever lay within it. She had to get to him. For some reason, just the thought of that spirit place gave her chills. She took a deep breath and pictured herself wearing her favorite Versace jeans, Dolce & Gabbana tobacco-colored, jersey halter top with gold leather straps and draped neckline that lay artfully over her breasts, and her favorite boots, the Michael Kors, simply because they were so stylish and comfortable and went with everything. Accessories were everything, so she went all the way and added the braided belt and chunky bracelet and necklace she’d always wanted but couldn’t afford.

  She took a deep breath and let it out as soon as the clothes settled onto her skin, fitting her like a glove, providing her with her suit of courage to face the next challenge. “Thanks, Riordan. This is perfect.”

  She expected him to give her his little sneer, but instead he studied her appearance with care. “You do look wonderful. I thought you looked fine in the other clothes, but these suit you somehow.”

  She smiled, feeling a little camaraderie with him for the first time. “Thanks for getting here so fast. I didn’t know what to do with that thing. He just kept coming at me.” She shook her head, frowning. “Well. Not me. My guardian.”

  “The wolf.”

  He said it with respect, and her heart lightened even more. MaryAnn realized what that meant. She was the wolf. It dwelled in her, silent and waiting, emerging when needed, content to stay quiet unless compelled to action. She was the sentinel, and the animals around her recognized the guardian in her for what it was. And they respected her. Riordan respected her. But more, they accepted her for who and what she was.

  “You are Manolito’s lifemate,” Riordan said. “And you more than meet every expectation.” He bowed low, a courtly gesture of respect. “He could not have found better. You keep many secrets, little sister.”

  She felt the grin spread across her face; she couldn’t help it. “The wolf? She comes out upon occasion and kicks serious butt.” She felt so proud saying it, so matter-of-factly. The wolf. Her wolf.

  “I had no idea there were any lycans left in this world. Now I think they are far cleverer than any of us gave them credit for. Of course they still exist, and we should have known that. They were always content to stay in the background.”

  She leaned against the railing, swaying a little. “I was hoping when they got hurt they could just heal themselves the way you do. And I would have liked the ability to produce clothes with my imagination. There are a few lines I can’t afford, but I sure can imagine myself wearing them.”

  He caught her arm to steady her, lowering her until she was sitting beside Manolito once again. “I have good news for you, MaryAnn. Manolito is quite wealthy, and you will be able to afford whatever line of clothing you prefer. It is good to keep the illusion of being entirely human at all times, but if you need, once fully Carpathian, you will be able to manufacture clothing at will.”

  Her heart jumped when he said that. Fully Carpathian. She still had to deal with that. And she wanted to be with Manolito De La Cruz forever. He was going to drive her insane with his arrogance, and he was going to have to learn what it was like living with a woman who was every bit as stubborn as he.

  “Do you understand what that means?” Riordan asked.

  “Not really. How could I?” Whatever he was doing to her shoulder was taking her breath away. It hurt like hell, and she was really glad she could stare down at her perfect boots and admire the square toe and really nice leather.

  “You will be wholly Carpathian. Juliette was upset to lose her jaguar. She can call her cat, shifting into the shape and feel of it, but it is not the same. She doesn’t feel a sense of loss, but I know it was difficult when she first thought of it as a loss.”

  “Really? I’m more concerned with losing my family. My grandparents and parents are very important to me. I don’t much care for the idea of watching my friends and family die.”

  Riordan didn’t know that her blood was infecting Manolito with th
e wolf, just as his blood was giving her the traits of Carpathians. Her fingers slid into the long, thick hair of her lifemate. She tasted the word and the depth of its meaning. He was hers. As much as she belonged to him, he belonged to her. Whatever was happening to her was also happening to him. What would Riordan have to say about that? How accepting would he be then?

  She rubbed at her pounding temples. “Did you hear anything?” She looked around her, raised her face and sniffed the air. How often had she done that and never realized why? How often had she reached into people’s minds without being aware she was doing so to extract the information she needed in order to help them? And the animals…She looked around her at the monkeys in the trees. They had all come to her aid when she needed them. Even the jaguar, under the enthrallment of the vampire, had fought to break the spell and do her bidding.

  “The wolf is good,” she said with satisfaction.

  “Of course. What did you think?”

  “Monster with teeth tearing apart the screaming teen with his claws and devouring the entire family while the littlest one looks on from the closet vowing to kill the hairy beast someday.”

  Riordan snorted, his brief smile of amusement fading as fast as it had appeared. “It can happen. There are a few who go rogue, but the wolf society, in the past, and I suspect now, always did a good job of policing their own kind. They live as humans, at least they used to prefer that, usually near the forest or jungle, or they took jobs with animals to help protect them. They rarely revealed themselves unless there was extreme danger to someone under their protection. Their numbers were dwindling even before ours. They were too spread out, the packs not close enough to interbreed, and we suspected they tried to breed with humans but weren’t successful and eventually their species died out.”

  “Why would you think that their blood wouldn’t convert a human?”

  “We didn’t think Carpathian blood could successfully convert a human. Juliette thinks that over the years, more humans than we realized had blood of the other species in them as well, maybe not much, but still, genetically they are probably linked.”