Instinct took over and mother and child began to work in a kind of union. Corinne commanded her body to stay relaxed and tranquil, breathing through the uncomfortable contractions, all the while soothing the baby with her mind. She found herself astonished that she could touch the infant’s mind, that the baby was so intelligent and aware at such a young age. The baby would warn her before Corinne actually felt the onset of a contraction, enabling her to take a deep, calming breath and breathe her way through each one. She wished she could get up and walk around, knowing it would speed up the process, but didn’t dare take the chance. Despite her determination not to panic, Corinne found fear flooding her as the contractions increased and a heavy stone seemed to settle in the vicinity of her chest.
She knew the instant Dayan awoke. He was there in her mind even as he drew his first breath, even as the sound of his heart filled the chamber with its reassuring, steady beat. Her rock. Her anchor.
Dayan.
She breathed his name, inhaled his scent. Of course he would come to her in her time of need.
His hand moved over her face, a loving, tender gesture. She could feel his love for her pouring out of his heart and soul and into hers. “You will never be alone, my love, not ever again. Whatever happens here this night, I will be with you.”
“I’m glad you’re with me. I wanted Lisa, but I know she would have had a difficult time coping. I couldn’t lean on her too hard. That makes her feel so guilty. She doesn’t realize she has given me so many other gifts. I don’t need to lean on her to love her.” Her breath caught in her throat as the next contraction began to swell like a great tide.
“It is time.” He made it a soft statement. His voice was velvet soft. His black eyes met her moss-green ones, and instantly she was falling through time and space into a deep, fathomless well. Dayan shifted position even as he held her mesmerized within his hypnotic gaze.
Her time has come. The baby is coming, and her heart is failing. We have need of healers now.
He sent the call out into the night, knowing the others were somewhere close by, sleeping beneath the soil in the network of underground tunnels and chambers. His call would awaken them instantly.
He held her in the thrall of his gaze, removing the pain from the experience of labor to rest her heart. He could hear it, the terrible skipping, the heralding of disaster. Her body was already worn out, and she was just beginning.
“I can’t feel the contractions anymore,” she whispered. “I’m supposed to help the baby through this, Dayan. If I can’t feel what’s happening, how can I help her?”
“I am simply blocking the pain as mortals often do with medications when they give birth; you will feel the contractions without the discomfort of labor.” He was outwardly calm, tranquil within his mind where she was safely merged with him. Deep inside where she couldn’t see, a hand was squeezing his heart like a vise. “There is no need to put unnecessary strain on your heart if I can prevent it.” He tried to sound matter-of-fact. The moment the contraction was over, Dayan pulled her into his arms, sensing her need to change position.
Corinne was devoting every ounce of will to keep her heart going, but the labor was depleting her energy quickly. Dayan buried his face in the silky strands of her hair, hiding there for a moment while he forced away his own fears. “I wish I could do this for you, Corinne,” he murmured softly.
She tilted her head to kiss him. “Lisa is fragile, Dayan. She’s my family and I love her very much.” Corinne found it difficult to catch enough breath to speak.
Dayan held her in his strong arms as if that would keep her from traveling beyond his world. “Ssh, honey, I will see to it that Lisa is protected and loved all her life. You do not need to worry about her.”
But what if I don’t make it, Dayan? Who will tell her, how will she get here to be with the baby and you? Cullen—
“Cullen is doing very well at the moment, resting comfortably with Lisa holding his hand,” he assured her quickly. “Syndil and Barack are guarding them, making sure no harm comes to either of them. I can touch them at any time, as you are able to do. You have only to send your fears to our brethren and they will reassure you as I am doing. Syndil knows you are in labor; she is monitoring us as I am monitoring them.”
Don’t let her tell Lisa anything is wrong. If something happens to me, you go to Lisa yourself. You go, Dayan. You must be the one to tell her.
“I want you to remain quiet, honey. Conserve your energy. Your job is to stay alive through this, to give life to our child. Do not worry about something that may never happen, and certainly not about Lisa, who is perfectly safe.”
The next contraction swept through her body, much more intense than the last. Her heart erupted into a violent, frenzied pounding. It was impossible to breathe. A stone was crushing her chest, and inside her, the baby went very, very quiet. Panic welled up as she fought just to breathe. She knew Dayan was aiding her, yet she couldn’t draw air into her lungs.
Gregori shimmered into the room. One moment there was no one beside the bed, and in the next instant, he stood tall and straight, invincible. His smile looked reassuring, but Corinne was beginning to know him through their continual mind merges. There was worry in his mind. Darius loomed over her too, a larger-than-life figure so powerful he seemed unshakable. A woman emerged from what seemed thin air, transparent at first, then very real. She was small, with wine-red hair, and she gave the impression of total competency. She was the one who leaned close and put her hand on Corinne’s abdomen, a slight frown of concentration on her face.
“This is Shea, Corinne,” Gregori said softly. “Trust in her judgment as we do.” Gregori took her hand. “Our people are gathering wherever they are and they will lend their aid also. We will do this.”
Corinne glued her eyes to Dayan.
Save my baby.
It was a desperate plea.
Something’s wrong, I can feel it.
“Corinne — “ Shea’s voice was gentle but very firm. “I’m going to take the baby immediately. She’s in trouble, and we need to get her out now.” She looked up at Dayan.
You must complete the ritual as I do so, Dayan. Bring her across fully into our world and we will hope her body will go through the conversion fast enough to sustain her life. Gregori and Darius will aid you in this. Julian stands by to give his blood, as does Jacques.
As she spoke to Dayan, she was already prepping Corinne, deftly cutting through clothing, without any need of light. Her mind was directing Darius and Gregori without having to use words as they worked together like a well-oiled machine.
Dayan shifted position again, his arms encircling Corinne, her head resting on his chest. Shea was fast and efficient, a highly skilled surgeon as well as a Carpathian healer. It was obvious to Corinne that Shea knew what she was doing. She felt no pain; they were working in concert to prevent pain. She felt strange sensations as Shea did the emergency procedure, opening her womb to allow access to the baby.
Corinne felt disconnected from the entire procedure. She was drifting again in a dream world, uncertain what was reality and what was dream. She saw the red-haired woman cutting into her. She saw Dayan nuzzling her neck, his mouth drifting over her pulse, his teeth sinking into her skin. None of it alarmed her. Gregori had centered himself, moved from his own body to become pure light and energy, streaming into Corinne in order to slow down the death process and speed up the conversion.
Corinne heard voices chanting in an ancient tongue, saw the flurry of activity as others brought a small enclosure like an incubator into the chamber. Dayan lifted his head, his face a mask of torment. That moved her even when nothing else seemed to. She ached for him, for his sorrow. He looked older; there were lines etched deeply into his dark, sensual features. She saw him make a thin cut along the heavy muscles of his chest, over his heart. She saw him press her to him, holding her close, murmuring to her, commanding her to take what he offered so they both would live.
She saw h
erself attempting to obey his command, her movements weak and feeble so that Dayan had to hold her head to him, stroke her throat so she would convulsively swallow. At the same time, she saw Shea lift out the baby, a tiny form. Her helpers were moving even faster now, cutting the cord, working on the baby, Darius very much in the forefront. He bent over the baby, his manner protective, tender even.
Corinne felt the tears on her face. Happiness. It was done. Her daughter was alive and in a circle of people who would love and care for her. Drifting above it all, Corinne was so tired she just wanted to close her eyes and let go. Sleep a long, long time. An eternity maybe. It seemed she had been tired all her life.
No!
The command was sharp.
You are not finished here, Corinne. I forbid you to do this.
The voice was imperious, authoritative. It followed her into her dreams and shook her out of her dreamlike state. She found herself in Dayan’s arms, her mouth pressed to her chest, warm salty liquid pouring down her throat.
It is enough!
Gregori warned Dayan before Corinne could fully comprehend what was happening and panic, or be repulsed and fight.
There can be no resistance on her part. She simply isn’t strong enough to survive if she resists.
Dayan immediately allowed Julian to close the wound in his chest and he held Corinne to him, locking her mind to his. She was fading away — he could feel her spirit drifting further from him, yet her departure wasn’t a conscious choice. She seemed unable to rally enough strength to keep fighting, even with his ancient blood, even with the Carpathians pouring their strength of will into her frail body.
Dayan rested his head on hers. They had waited too long. Her poor mortal body had fought as long as it was able, remaining just long enough to give life to another. Now the life force was slipping away from her. She was no longer feeling the blood coursing through her body. Her fragile heart was still pumping because Gregori was forcing the damaged organ to do its job, but Corinne seemed too far away to call back.
Dayan felt them all around him - his people, his family. The chant swelled in volume. He heard the baby’s soft distressed cry as Shea worked with her. He inhaled the scent of healing herbs. For a moment he allowed himself the last luxury of taking it all in, the beauty of the chamber, the flood of memories of his life: shape-shifting, soaring, challenging the earth itself as he gained knowledge; his beloved music, so much a part of him. He loved it all, but the woman in his arms was everything. Nothing else would ever matter to him.
Without her, there would be no color, no light, no music in his heart or soul.
Dayan bent his head to brush her eyelids, the corner of her mouth, with his.
I love you, Corinne. You do not go alone into a strange world. I am with you.
At once there was a loud protest. Sharp. Demanding. All of them. His family. From a distance he heard Barack’s and Syndil’s cries of alarm. He heard the echo of Cullen, who must have caught the objection from Barack’s mind. He heard Julian’s sharp denial and Desari’s soft little murmur of dissent. Tempest called to him. Gregori and Savannah added their demands. But it was Darius whom Dayan had followed all his life, only Darius he answered to. And it was Darius who commanded him now.
You will not follow her. You will save her.
The voice was incredibly soft, but Darius had no need ever to raise his voice to be obeyed.
She does not wish to continue, Darius. I can do no other than allow her to rest.
Darius’s hand came down hard on Dayan’s shoulder, connecting them physically.
You can be her lifemate later, giving in to her every desire, but not now. You are Carpathian, Dayan. We embrace life. We hold on. We endure. You will not release her or yourself from this world. She has the right to make her decision.
He had the right to make his choice; Corinne deserved the same respect. It was the last thing he could give her.
This was not her choice, Dayan!
Darius persisted.
She was never given a choice. Death was inevitable, and she knew and accepted that. She is tired and worn, but this is not her choice. She embraced you, accepted you, knowing what you are. She did not resist each time you offered to bring her into our world. You were not keeping the knowledge from her; she always knew it on some level. Her choice would be life, you, her child. She cannot make that decision, so you must make it for her. You do not realize how tired and worn you yourself are, how much energy you have used in keeping her alive to give the child a chance. You are not thinking straight. You will not go with her. You will stay with us, and you will turn your will on her and prevent this tragedy.
It was no less than a decree. A command meant to be obeyed.
Darius suddenly crouched low and looked Dayan in the eye. “If you ever trusted me, trusted my judgment, if you ever believed in me, follow me now.”
Dayan felt the strength of his leader, the man he named brother, flowing into him, and he nodded, a slow, grim smile softening the edges of his mouth. It had been long since he had known emotion around his family, and now his pride and love for them were overwhelming. He turned inward, swiftly pursued and caught up with that weak, flickering light that was moving so far away from him. He surrounded Corinne’s spirit; his will a strong wall, an anchor to hold her in his world.
Corinne. Know me.
He felt her response. Weak. Fluttery. But she knew him. Of course she knew him. She would know him anywhere. What had he been thinking? Corinne loved life. She embraced life. She might be accepting of the hardships life had handed her, but she found joy in all things, beauty in the world around her. She wanted to raise her daughter, she wanted to see Lisa’s and Cullen’s happiness. Corinne wanted a life with Dayan.
Dayan held her locked to him. Her spirit was being pulled away from him, away from her damaged body. He saw Gregori and Darius working, two points of pure light, massaging and stimulating her heart. He knew Gregori commanded that more blood be given, and it was Jacques, brother to the Prince, who supplied it to Corinne. Dayan saw the two healers work furiously at spreading the blood to the organs of Corinne’s body in hopes of speeding the conversion. Both were exhausted from maintaining the out-of-body experience, but neither wavered in his task.
I’m tired. Let me sleep for a while.
It was those last six little words that convinced him. She wanted sleep, not death. Not eternal sleep.
Not yet, my love. It is not over yet. One more thing. Just one, and I will allow you to sleep as long as you like. Join with me, merge into my mind so that I can keep you safe while you cross over fully into my world.
The first ripple of pain was shocking. It felt like fire racing through her bloodstream. Corinne’s body contorted, jerked in Dayan’s arms. He couldn’t believe the force of the rush, a fireball consuming her. She cried out, the sound torn from her throat, loud in the hushed stillness of the chamber, so that it echoed up the vent into the night sky.
Oh, God, she cannot survive this. I do not want her last moments to be such pain.
The words broke from him as tiny beads of blood oozed across his forehead. He could not take the pain away. He had dulled it, but it was something none of them could fully prevent.
She must survive.
Darius was implacable in his resolve.
Dayan breathed deeply, allowed the pain to wash over and through him before he turned his complete attention inward to that fragile spirit huddling so weakly within the walls he’d constructed. Corinne astonished him. She was unafraid. She was as accepting of the conversion as she had been of her labor. She was weak, though, and unable to aid him in gathering strength for the coming battle.
The next wave of fire burned through her internal organs with a jolt so severe, she was nearly wrenched out of Dayan’s arms. There was no gradual buildup. The healers were forcing the conversion to accommodate her disintegrating heart. It would have failed long before if the two healers had ceased their work.
Dayan held
Corinne’s head as she was violently sick, again and again. She was too weak to move or help herself. He took great care that she did not inhale, seeing that she expelled every damaging toxin from her body. He found himself clenching his teeth against the waves of terrible pain racing through her body. Deep within his mind he felt her spirit falter, the light flickering.
No!
He clung to her, turned every ounce of his will to prevent that light from being extinguished. They had come so far. Death must not take her now.
The chant was a continual murmur in his mind, and he knew it was aiding the process, but he needed something else, something to draw her to him. The baby was quiet, fighting her own battle for life with Shea’s help. It came to him then. The one thing he could give her that he knew she loved. His music. He began to sing. Softly at first, a melody of dark, dangerous love. A ballad of need. Of a man’s desperate fight for the one woman he loved above all else.
Desari joined in on the chorus, her beautiful, magical voice a gift from the heavens. She sang with him, helping him use his voice to draw Corinne from the jaws of death. The notes leapt into the air, silver and gold, dancing like glinting sunlight in the darkened chamber.
He felt Corinne’s response then. Weak, but there. She clung to the sound of their voices, allowed the melody to take her away from the terrible burning in her body, the humiliation of her system ridding itself of human toxins. The loss of control, the helpless feeling of lying unable to move, while her body contorted and writhed with pain. She chained herself to those notes, his gift to her, and floated above the fire, holding to life, clinging to Dayan, her solid anchor.
He was humbled by her complete trust and faith in him. He had no idea if he would have given his life so completely into another’s hands. He was awed and humble and grateful. Blood-red tears dripped onto the back of his hand, but his voice never wavered as he sang to her.
The ordeal seemed an eternity to him, and his newfound emotions were raw. But he sang with his heart and soul. His voice surrounded her, lifted her above the terrible pain and kept her anchored firmly to him.
Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12) Page 30