"We will return using a different route, Shea. We cannot stay in the cabin." Jacques caught her hand in his and pulled her through the trees. "It is no longer safe."
Shea had the vague impression of a twisted, malevolent smile. Silent laughter, grimly amused. She shook her head to rid herself of the image, afraid she was hallucinating.
Jacques?
Her voice trembled with uncertainty.
His fingers tightened around hers. "There is no need to worry, we will find suitable shelter. I would never allow you to be harmed." He drew her hand to the warmth of his mouth with remarkable tenderness. "You feel the undead one. Is it Byron?"
"I don't know if it's Byron. I just know it is something very evil. Let's leave this place, go to a city with bright lights and lots of people."
He tucked her protectively beneath his shoulder and matched his gait to hers. Instinctively he knew they would be vulnerable in a city. They were Carpathian, not human. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to give himself time to search for the right words. "If a vampire is marking us for his attentions, we will only be placing innocent humans in harm's way. They have very few defenses against the undead."
"He is watching us, Jacques. I know you can't feel him, but he's out there."
Jacques believed her. Once again he sought the pictures in her mind, heard the eerie sound of taunting laughter echoing in her head. He swore softly. "When Byron found you in the village, are you certain he did not take your blood?"
"I would have told you. He bent his head toward mine, I could feel his breath on my neck, and his teeth touched my skin, but I jerked away from him. He barely pierced the skin." She reached up and covered the spot where the pinprick had been. "In any case, he apologized to you. Couldn't you see his sadness? It broke my heart."
His arm tightened for a moment, and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "You are so compassionate, love, and very trusting. A vampire can appear to be the epitome of beauty, of genuineness itself."
She skipped a little to keep up with his ever-quickening pace. "I don't think so, Jacques. I recognized beauty in you when you appeared to be a monster. I knew there was something beyond what I could see. I think I would recognize evil just as well."
"It was the call of our souls to one another that you recognized. We are lifemates, bound together even when apart."
"Call it anything you like, but I think I would know if Byron were truly the vicious creature I feel watching us. It hates."
"Only Gregori gave you blood. And I."
"If I were you, I would not bring up the fact that you forced me to take that spell-casting healer's blood." She twisted away from him, annoyed all over again. "How could you betray me that way?"
With great male superiority he glanced down at her face. "Your health comes before your pride." The truth was, he was ashamed he had forced such a choice on her, yet he was grateful it was over and she was not nearly as weak as she had been.
"Says you. I hope he bled a long time before he closed that wound. And don't talk to me anymore, because you're being arrogant, and I can't stand you when you're arrogant." She stumbled, her legs already tired.
"If you had done as I said, you would be at full strength, your body healed from its ordeal," he pointed out, smug male amusement deliberately in his mind to tease her.
She stopped walking so abruptly, his arm jerked her forward. "Do you have any idea where we're going? I'm lost out here. Everything is beginning to look the same to me. And stop with that cute little grin you always get in your mind. You think you can get around me with it, but you can't."
He tugged at her arm, his black eyes restless, searching the forest around them. He could still feel the dark malevolence through Shea. "I can always get around you, little red hair," he answered tenderly. "You are not capable of holding a grudge."
The feeling of hatred was oppressive. Jacques' gentle teasing was comforting, and she was oddly grateful for it. She tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm. "Don't count on my good nature, Jacques. You do remember what they say about people with red hair."
"That they are great lovers?"
She laughed in spite of the waves of black malice washing over her continually. "You would think that."
At her laughter, the air thickened around them so that for a moment she was choking on hatred. Unable to stand it another minute, not thinking of the consequences, she whirled around to face the murky forest behind them. "If you want us so badly, you coward, come out into the open and introduce yourself!" She tilted her chin at Jacques. "There. He can come or not. I don't feel like being hunted down like some animal."
Jacques could feel her trembling beside him. It worried him that he had inadvertently forced her into a position of accepting too many new things at one time. His hand cupped the nape of her neck, dragged her close, the black eyes burning down into hers. "No one will ever harm you. Not ever. They may attempt to do so, but they will not survive." He took a deep breath before his confession. "I was not aware that you were not Carpathian. I was not capable of knowing much at all at that time. I inadvertently converted you. I would like to say I am sorry, but in truth, I am not. I did not know what I was doing, and I hope I would have done it differently had I known better, but you are my life, Shea. There is no existence for me without you. I would have nothing to live for except revenge, and I would become the undead. I do not want to be vampire, preying on humans and Carpathians alike. You are my salvation."
She pushed him away from her. The rain swept over her face as she lifted emerald eyes filled with laughter to his. "That's it? That's your big apology? I can see you're not going to be a candy-and-flowers man." She set off quickly. "Don't talk to me, you uncivilized maniac. I don't even want to hear the sound of your voice."
Jacques forced back the smile that seemed so ready to curve his hard mouth. Shea had a way of making even dangerous situations seem a game where laughter was always close at hand. She managed to find ways to make his madness, the terrible, unforgivable way he had treated her at their first meeting, seem casual, "Can I put my arm around you?" Even while his eyes scanned, they held a gleam of merriment.
"You're talking, I said don't talk to me." Shea tried sticking her nose in the air, but it felt ridiculous, and she dissolved into undignified giggles.
His arm curved around her slender waist and locked her under his shoulder. "I am sorry. I did not mean to speak when you asked me not to. Turn here. I'm going to have to carry you up."
"Don't talk. You always get your way when you talk." She walked with him a few more yards and stopped, staring up a sheer cliff face that seemed to go up forever. There had been no division between the forest and the rock face to warn her. "Up what? Not that." The dark, malevolent feeling had faded away. Whoever it was no longer was watching them. She could tell.
"I feel another argument coming on." His mocking amusement might not have shown on his face, but she could feel it in her mind. Jacques simply lifted her and tossed her over his shoulder.
"No way, you wild man. You aren't Tarzan. I don't like heights. Put me down."
"Close your eyes. Who is Tarzan? Not another male, I hope."
The wind rushed over her body, and she could feel them moving fast, so fast the world seemed to blur. She closed her eyes and clutched at him, afraid to do anything else. His laughter was happy and carefree, and it warmed her heart, dispelling any residue of fear she carried. It was a miracle to her that he could laugh, that he was happy.
Tarzan is the ultimate male. He swings through trees and carries his woman off into the jungle.
He patterns himself after me.
She nuzzled his back.
He tries
.
He could hear the love in her voice, the tenderness, and his heart turned over. They had a long way to go before knowing one another fully, before accepting one another, but the love between them was growing stronger with every moment they were together.
Chapter Eleven
The passage into the cave was so narrow, Shea had to hold her breath to squeeze through. It seemed to go on forever, the rough walls scraping her skin, the oppressive feelings of tons of rock over her head, surrounding her body, waiting to crush her. She couldn't look at Jacques, who had somehow made his large body thin and weird looking. Carpathians were capable of doing things she didn't want to think about. How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Sex. A good-looking intense man with black, hungry eyes, and she fell like a lovesick calf. Sex. It ruined many otherwise sane women.
I can read your thoughts.
The amusement was soft and caressing, wrapping her up in strong arms.
I was perfectly sane and sensible until I met you. Now look at me. I'm crawling around inside a mountain.
Suddenly she stopped and held herself perfectly still.
I'm hearing something. Tell me you are not taking me into a cave full of bats. Say it right now, Jacques, or I'm out of here.
I am not taking you into cave filled with bats.
Shea relaxed visibly. She was not squeamish about very many things, but bats were creatures that were on the earth to remain a safe distance away from her. Miles away. Bats were one of those things she could stare up at in the night sky and think how interesting and wonderful they were, as long as they stayed high above her and nowhere close. Her nose wrinkled. The sounds she was trying to ignore were getting louder. Her heart began to pound in alarm. The walls of the passageway were so narrow, she had no way to move fast. All at once she felt trapped, as if she was suffocating.
I'm going back, Jacques. I'm not a cave person.
She did her best to sound firm and matter-of-fact, not at all as if she were seconds from screaming her head off. She turned her head cautiously to keep from scraping her face on the jutting surfaces.
His fingers circled her wrist like a vise.
There must be no disturbance. If any creatures exit the cave or warn others of our existence here, we could be found.
A piece of paper couldn't fit in here, certainly not a person. No one is going to look far us here.
A vampire would know the moment bats flew from the cave.
Bats can't fly out of here if there aren't any in here, now, can they?
She was sweetly reasonable.
Trust me, little red hair, it is only a short distance farther.
You aren't going to make me sleep in the ground, are you? Because I won't do it, not even if there are ten vampires stalking us.
Vampires cannot stand even the dawn, Shea. Killing his prey does something to the blood. The sun would fry him immediately. He might betray us to the human servants he is in league with if he marked the entrance to this cave. Or they might be watching for just such a sign as bats flying unexpectedly into the early sun.
You're telling me there
are
bats in here
.
He tugged at her wrist.
Stop being such a baby. I can control the bats, and they will serve to warn us of any danger.
Shea made a face but followed him. With every moment Jacques' abilities, his knowledge and power, seemed to be growing. He was confident almost to the point of arrogance. Sometimes it grated and made her want to throw something at him, but she was proud of his growing strength.
The passage began to widen and slowly move downward, as if they were going into the very bowels of the earth. Shea could feel sweat beading on her body and her lungs laboring. She concentrated on breathing, the only thing that would keep her sane.
Jacques realized she was trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in his. His mind pushed through her natural barrier and found her uneasiness, her ridiculous fear of bats and closed-in places. She was uneasy with the Carpathian ability to shape-shift. Even his thinness, as he moved through the cave, made her uncomfortable. Used to being in control of every situation, she was finding it hard to follow his lead so blindly.
I am sorry, little one. I am introducing you to things that seem so perfectly natural to me yet must be confusing and frightening to you.
His voice was a soft caress, sending warmth curling through her body.
Just his voice could give her strength. She straightened her shoulders and followed him.
There's a bed in here somewhere, right?
She tried to inject some humor into the moment.
The passageway widened enough to allow Jacques to resume his true form. He immediately did so, hoping to alleviate Shea's distress. He also sought a comfortable topic for conversation. "What do you think of Raven?"
"I thought we had to be quiet." Shea was looking in every direction for bats.
"The bats know we are here, Shea, but there is no need to fear them. I will keep them away from you." He spoke calmly as if it was an everyday occurrence to control the movements of bats. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck as much in reassurance as to prevent her from fleeing. His thumb caressed her satin skin, found her pounding pulse, and stroked gently, soothingly.
"Raven seems very nice, even if she's married to another wild man like you."
She probably has lousy taste, just like me.
She tacked the thought on deliberately.
"What does that mean?" He tried to sound indignant, to keep her talking, to help her sustain her sense of humor. Jacques appreciated her courage and her unfailing determination to keep up her end, no matter how difficult it was on her.
"It means she can't have much sense. That man is dangerous, Jacques, even if he is your brother. And the healer is positively scary."
"Did you think so?"
"Didn't you? He smiled and talked so gently and calmly, but did you ever look into his eyes? It's evident he feels no emotion whatsoever."