Shea bit her lip, stumbled a little in weariness. Automatically she grabbed at Jacques' waistband for support. For one moment she'd thought she had a chance at a normal life, perhaps not normal as others knew it, but with a family structure, a child and husband.
Do not, Shea. I do not have the time now to comfort you properly, to allay your fears. Leave this.
Startled that he had penetrated her block, she looked up at his face, so mesmerizing, so handsome and seductive, yet ravaged by torment no human could imagine. His eyes, unprotected by the dark glasses he held in his hand, moved over her face. She could see love there, and possession, a dark promise for all eternity.
His fingers brushed her chin, sending a dancing flame spiraling along her spine. His thumb touched her bottom lip, and a shiver of sexual awareness curled in the pit of her stomach.
You belong with me. Shea, two halves of the same whole. You are the light to my darkness. I may be twisted, even mad, but I know in my heart, in my very soul, that I cannot exist without you.
His mouth brushed her eyelids gently. "I am not easy to kill, red hair, and I do not surrender what is mine. Lying in torment these years has given me a strength of will not easily matched."
She rubbed her face along his side, wanting to burrow close for comfort. "We are so far apart, Jacques, in every way we think. It's easy to say in the heat of passion that everything will be fine, but living together may be extremely difficult. We're so different."
His arm circled her waist, urging her forward into the comparative shelter of the trees. Rain was slashing down, soaking them. Clouds, dark and massive, swirled above them. But he could feel the first pinpricks of the sun as it began to climb above the clouds. The early morning light always made him uneasy, always made him aware of his own terrible vulnerability. Replacing his dark glasses, he pushed forward with quick, long strides. If only she had taken nourishment from the healer, they could shape-shift and be at the cabin in an instant.
Jacques knew she had thought her mind block sufficient to keep him out, but he never was able to quite let go of her. Some part of him always dwelled in her mind, quiet, like a faint shadow, but there all the same. She had always dreamed of having a child, to give it the love she'd never had. Now she felt there was no hope of such a thing. The question of the child had been very important to her, but lifemates could not lie to one another, could not cheat on one another. He could only pray he would choose death instantly, without a qualm, without a doubt, if something happened to Shea. Otherwise he feared he would become the monster lurking inside him, so close to the surface, a monster the world of humans and Carpathians alike had never known. There was something very wrong with him, and only Shea stood between that something and the rest of the world.
There was no way for her to break their bond. He knew that with his every instinct, and it brought him a measure of com fort. The rage, always so close, so deadly, was leashed and under control for the time being. As long as Shea was with him.
But now he had to find Byron; he owed the Carpathian that much. The drive in him to do so was strong, almost overwhelming, as if some part of him, not his mind but something deep within him, remembered their shared friendship. He should have placed Shea in a trance and demanded that she sleep while he did this thing, but the truth was, he simply couldn't bear their separation, and he wanted her close, where he could protect her. And he wanted her happy.
Women!
Shea heard his disgruntled complaint clearly in her mind. A small smile tugged at the corners of her reluctant mouth. "Am I complicating your life, Jacques?" she asked sweetly, hopefully.
He stopped so abruptly that she was jerked to a halt. Jacques caught her wet hair in his fist and pulled her head back so that the rain ran along her soft skin like honey. "The truth is, Shea, you make me feel so much, I do not know if I can stand it sometimes." His mouth found hers almost blindly, desperately, feeding voraciously as if he might devour her, take her into his body forever.
Nothing can ever happen to you!
His hands were biting into her skin, his body taut with tension, his mind a whirling confusion of fear and determination and so much hunger.
Almost without thought Shea reacted instinctively, her slender arms circling his neck, her body soft and pliant against the aggression in his, her mind calm and loving, a warm, safe haven for his fragmented, tortured mind. She kissed him without reservation, pouring every ounce of love and support she could into her response. He lifted his head reluctantly and rested his forehead on hers.
"Nothing is going to happen to me, Jacques. I think you're having anxiety attacks." She tousled his hair as if he were a small boy, gave him a teasing grin. "Do Carpathians have shrinks, too?"
He laughed softly, astonished that he could do so when he had been so terrified only moments earlier. "You are as disrespectful as a woman can get."
"I'm not just any woman, silly, I'm a doctor and terribly brilliant. Everyone says so."
"Do they now?" He held her tight against his hard frame, thinking to take her into his very body, his arms protectively sheltering her.
"Is this going to be too much for you, Jacques? Facing those horrible butchers again? Are you certain you can do this?"
He raised his head so that she couldn't see the wolfish smile that didn't reach his ice-black eyes. "I am looking forward to renewing our acquaintance."
Shea touched his mind with hers, found a grim satisfaction at the thought of a confrontation, but Jacques was too strong to allow her to see the rage and hatred welling up, threatening to spew forth violence and revenge. Shea was a healer, a gentle woman who could not conceive of an evil such as he had seen, such as he himself possessed. She took his hand, her fingers lacing tightly with his. She might not ever have a child, but she had Jacques. She wanted him far away from pain and torment, far from men or creatures who might try to destroy him again. She was very determined to see him safe.
Chapter Twelve
Raven stood in the comparative shelter of the porch, her face turned up toward the sky, eyes closed. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, and her fingers twisted together compulsively over her stomach. She was not with the others, rather somewhere out of her body and concentrating on attempting to find Byron's location. Beside her stood her dark, intimidating husband, his mind obviously locked with hers. Mikhail was so like Jacques that Shea could not tear her gaze from him. As she moved onto the porch a step behind Jacques, she could clearly see that Mikhail was furious. He was seething with anger, violence swirling very close to the surface, yet his posture was purely protective. He had placed himself between Raven and the ferocity of the storm.
Gregori was as still as a statue, his face a blank mask, his silver eyes as empty as death, yet Shea gave him a wide berth. There was something dangerous in his utter stillness. Shea felt she had no way to sorting out the complexity of the Carpathian male's nature. Gregori was watching Raven through narrowed, restless eyes, eyes that saw far too much. Suddenly he cursed, low and vicious, startling from someone of his stature and power. "She should not put herself at risk. She is with child."
His eyes met Jacques', silver lightning and black ice. Total understanding between the two men. Shea merged her mind with Jacques' quickly to try to understand the hidden currents. Raven's pregnancy, if she was pregnant, changed everything as far as the men were concerned. Shea could see no evidence of a child—Raven appeared as slim as ever—but she couldn't believe the healer would be wrong. He seemed so infallible, so completely invincible. The child was everything, all-important to the men. It surprised, even shocked her, the way they regarded the pregnancy. It was a miracle to both of them. The baby was more important than any of their lives. Shea was confused. Despite Jacques' fractured memories, his protective streak was extremely strong.
"He's aware of his surroundings, but he can't move. Even his mind is locked and still. He is paralyzed somehow." Raven's voice startled Shea, brought her back to the stormy weather and their rescue mission. Raven was clearly speaking of Byron. "He can't move or call out, not even mentally. It is dark and damp, and he knows he will suffer greatly before they are done with him." Raven swayed, her hands protectively covering her stomach.
The healer moved, a blur of speed, catching her arm and wrenching her out into the driving rain. Gregori snagged Mikhail's shirt, too, and yanked him into the fury of the storm. "Break off now, Raven," Gregori commanded. He shook her, shook Mikhail. "Let go of him now!"
Jacques leapt forward, grabbed his brother, and hit his face, once, twice. "Come back!" It was a hoarse cry.
Shea bit her lip, suddenly terrified. The couple seemed somehow bound, caught in the vampire's trap with Byron. Gregori pulled Raven farther into the driving rain. Jacques pushed Mikhail after them. It was Mikhail who recovered first. He blinked at his brother, looked around him as if unaware where he was. Then, instinctively, he reached for Raven.
"Bring her back, Mikhail. Go after her. Guide her back. This is too dangerous for her. Even with my connection to her, she is trapped," Gregori said. "We are dealing with more than just any vampire. This one is skilled in the black arts and the use of herbs and power stones. I know what he has done and how he is doing it."
Mikhail pulled Raven tightly against him, his black eyes hard with mental strain. Raven blinked, looked around her, seemed surprised to find herself in the rain. Her hand went to her temple in a gesture of pain. "Stop staring at me. I feel like some kind of freak show." She sounded hurt, hid her face on Mikhail's chest.
His arms circled her, drew her into the shelter of his body, his head bent lovingly toward hers. It was such an intimate gesture,
Shea had to turn away. To her dismay, she found the healer studying her. Shea moved closer to Jacques, unconsciously seeking protection from the scrutiny.
"You need nourishment." The healer spoke gently.
"When I'm hungry, I'll eat," Shea told him haughtily. "You don't need to worry about all of us. I know how to care for myself."
The silvery eyes slashed through the lie. "Your hunger radiates from you, and your weakness could place all of us in jeopardy." He turned his powerful stare on Raven.
Raven squirmed visibly. "Oh, shut up, Gregori," she snapped, her blue eyes flashing fire at him.
A faint smile curved his mouth, failing to light his eyes. "I did not speak."
"You spoke volumes, and you know it." Her chin went up belligerently. "Your male sense of superiority is enough to make a woman want to scream. Honestly, Gregori, all that cold logic makes a person crazy." She allowed Mikhail to lead her onto the porch.
"Logic works, unlike emotional women," Gregori returned unruffled. "Your first duty is to protect your child. Our first duty must be to protect you." His silver gaze clearly censured Mikhail.
"You don't know for sure if I'm pregnant."
"Do not play games, Raven. Sometimes your rebellious ways grow tedious. I know you are with child. You cannot hide such a thing from me. Mikhail knows it to be true, and he knows he cannot allow your dangerous involvement in this mission to continue with you in such a condition."
Raven flung out her ebony hair. "No one allows me to do anything. I decide. I was born and raised human, Gregori," she pointed out. "I can only be myself. Byron is my friend, and he is in desperate trouble. I intend to help him."
"If your lifemate is so enthralled with you that he would allow you such foolishness," Gregori replied softly, menacingly, "then I can do no other than protect you myself."
"Don't you talk about Mikhail like that!" Raven was furious.
You really know how to stir up the hornets' nest with the women, do you not?
Mikhail demanded, even though he understood Gregori completely and felt him justified.
Gregori did not look at him but stared out into the storm.
The child she carries is my lifemate. It is female and belongs to me.
There was an unmistakable warning note, an actual threat.
In all their centuries together, such a thing had never happened. Mikhail immediately closed his mind to Raven. She could never hope to understand how Gregori felt. Without a lifemate, the healer had no choice but to eventually destroy himself or become the very epitome of evil. The vampire. The walking dead. Gregori had spent endless centuries waiting for his lifemate, holding on when those younger than he had given in. Gregori had defended their people, lived a solitary existence so that he might keep their race safe. He was far more alone than the others of his kind, and far more susceptible to the call of power as he had to hunt and kill often. Mikhail could not blame his oldest friend for his possessive, protective streak toward the unborn child. He spoke calmly and firmly, hoping to avoid a confrontation. Gregori had held on for so long, this promise of a lifemate could send him careening over the edge into the dark madness if he felt there was a danger to the female child.
Raven is not like Carpathian woman. You have always known and accepted that. She will not remain in seclusion during this time. She would wither and die.
Gregori actually snarled, a menacing rumble that froze Shea in place, put Jacques into a crouch, and had Mikhail shifting position for a better defense. Raven pushed past Mikhail's strong body and fearlessly laid a hand on the healer's arm. Everyone else might think Gregori could turn at any moment, but he had held on for centuries, and she believed implicitly that he would no more hurt her than he would her child. "Gregori, don't be angry with Mikhail." Her voice was soft and gentle. "His first duty to me is to see to my happiness."
"It is to see to your protection." Gregori's voice was a blend of heat and light.