Dark Desire (28 page)

Mikhail moved to intercept his brother. “We have need of this man.”

Gregori placed himself firmly between the two Carpathians, recognizing immediately that Jacques' tattered mind was focused on only one thing.
Do not try to interfere, Mikhail. He will attack you. He is not healed, and he is very dangerous. We cannot control him, and he has shut out the woman. She is his only hold on reality. We cannot save this human
. He shrugged as if to say it didn't matter to him one way or the other. And it didn't. If Mikhail had not been with them, Gregori would have already dispensed his own brand of justice.

Smith felt something take a firmer hold on his mind. This was not the same as the demand for information. This was an attack by an alien being, a grip of steel that felt as if it would crush his very skull. Smith cried out, whirled to face the broken man lying so seemingly helpless before him. The eyes were open, staring at him, pain-filled, malevolent even, but his victim appeared near death. The vampire had assured Jeff that this one was quite paralyzed in body and mind, that he could feel the pain inflicted upon him but could not cry out for help to others of his kind or harm the humans in any way.

Smith picked up a knife, still crimson with the victim's
blood, and took a step toward the bloody coffin. Instantly he was slammed against the wall by an unseen force, and the knife twisted toward him. Screaming, Jeff dropped the weapon. His head buzzed with pain. Whatever it was, was outside, demanding that he open the door. He clapped both hands to his head, trying to resist the compulsion, but his feet were already moving, obeying the unseen dictator.

The being snarled in impatience and applied more pressure. Jeff knew he was letting in his own death as he made his way up the rotting stairs to the heavy door. His every step brought those razor-sharp teeth closer and closer to his throat. But he couldn't stop himself. The being sent the clear picture to his brain, yet he couldn't stop himself. His hand was on the door. He shoved.

The wooden door exploded upward, and two clawed hands seized him, dragged him into the pouring rain. Thunder cracked, and a bolt of lightning hit a tree, split it in two with a deafening sound. A shower of sparks erupted. The earth fell away as Jeff was jerked skyward. He recognized the face now, the man he had once tortured for days. The man they had purposely buried alive seven years earlier.

Those black eyes had promised death, had haunted him for years, and now they were ice and fire, rimmed with red. Teeth gleamed white, sharp and dripping. Jeff screamed as the hot breath burned his neck. He felt the teeth tearing into his flesh, exposing his jugular. Hot liquid spilled down his chest, and he looked down to see his own blood spraying out. And then the creature was consuming him while his heart stuttered to stay alive and his mind cried out for another chance.

All around him the ghosts of the women he had raped and killed, the men Donnie had encouraged him to torture, floated into his mind. The rain beat down on his upturned face. The creature dropped him into the mud with a sicken
ing thud. Jeff squirmed, tried to crawl, turned his head to see a wolf approaching from the timberline. He tried to make a sound, but there was only a gasping wheeze.

Jacques crouched down and looked him in the eye, completely dispassionate, watching the glaze creeping into the depths of Jeff Smith's staring eyes. “You go to a hell you deserve, human,” he whispered contemptuously into the dying man's mind.

Jacques stayed crouched beside the man, red flames burning in his eyes, the demon in him roaring and hungry for retribution. He knew Byron was trapped in the cellar, that this human and his friends had tortured the Carpathian male just as they had tortured him years earlier. Adrenaline and power pumped through his body.

Mikhail paced back and forth nervously. Jacques was more animal than man, acting on the age-old instinct of the predator. Low growls continually rumbled in his throat, something Mikhail was certain his brother was not even aware of.

Jacques bent low, caught the bloodstained shirt, and dragged the human closer, his need for death erupting. The call was wild and strong. Every word Shea had spoken concerning this man and his partner and what they had promised to do to her echoed in his mind. The need of the Carpathian male to protect his mate and the hunger for retribution urged him to feel every moment of the taking of life.

Mikhail could see the war raging in Jacques. It would be a difficult thing for him to live with, the taking of blood during a kill. Gregori and he had both done it, but the rush was addicting and dangerous. In Jacques' state, it could be forever damaging. He approached cautiously. “Jacques, do not do this thing. You have too much to lose.”

Jacques whirled on him, baring teeth, a warning rumble bringing Gregori to once again insert his body between
them. “Leave him, Mikhail. If he makes the kill and consumes the rest of the idiot's blood, it is only what they owe him. He is no longer a child you must protect.”

Mikhail swore, angry with Gregori for dismissing the urgency of the act. Too many had been lost at just such a moment. Mikhail had thought Jacques lost to him once; he did not want it again. He also knew Gregori well enough to know he would have to try to go through the ancient's body to get to his brother. Gregori believed Jacques a danger to all of them. With a sigh he resigned himself to the inevitable.

Gregori watched the fight go out of Mikhail and turned his attention to Jacques, simply waiting for the decision to be made.

Jacques smelled the beckoning blood. His hunger was sated, but the taste of fear and adrenaline, the need for revenge, were burning in him. The rushing high consumed him, yet the cool wind that was Shea anchored him to reality. His body shook with the need to consume while he killed, to feel the life seep out of the man. Reluctantly, he allowed the man's shirt to slip from his fingers. Jeff Smith could die at his own pace, and Jacques would forego the ultimate power of the kill. He took a slow, deep breath and moved away from the broken body, watching his brothers, the wolves, move toward his victim. He shook off the demon, fighting every inch of the way to get himself back under control. It took long moments before he was able to see the two Carpathians as friends instead of enemies.

Gregori nodded at him, then turned and entered the cellar cautiously, inhaling the stale air, careful of any hidden traps. The place smelled of blood and fear, sweat, and the stench of burned flesh. Byron lay in a blood-splattered coffin, his body a thousand cuts and raw, charred flesh. His eyes found Gregori immediately, became anxious and desperate. Gregori tried to reach him on the common path of
Carpathians, but Byron's mind was frozen; it was impossible for him to move or communicate. But for the desperation in his eyes, Gregori would have dismissed the cellar as harmless to any of their kind.

Jacques entered the place of death uneasily, the stench sickening him. He caught the warning Gregori silently sent him and did not approach the form in the coffin. It was too easy. The vampire had known they would come, and Jeff Smith had been an unsuspecting sacrifice. The other two humans had probably known it also.

What do you think?
Gregori wanted to know.

Jacques had to fight to keep himself under control. His body shook continually, and the need to kill was still burning brightly in him. It was hard to think, to concentrate. He was aware of the wolves outside and the joy in them as they tore into the carcass. He felt connected to their simple way of life. They called to him to join them, to hunt and feed.

What do you think, Jacques?
Deliberately Gregori used his name to call him back from the need to run wild, to hunt and kill and be truly free.

Something is not right
. Jacques had no idea what it was, but he was certain there was hidden danger.

Byron's eyes were eloquent, obviously trying desperately to communicate something. As Gregori stepped closer, he seemed more agitated, the blood spewing from his wounds.

“Be calm, Byron, go to sleep. No vampire is going to catch us in his trap. Mikhail waits outside. There are three of us.” Gregori's voice was beautifully pitched, pure and soothing. “Drift off, slow your heart, and allow your body to hibernate. I will take you somewhere safe to heal. My blood is powerful. You will heal quickly.”

The blood pumped out as Byron became even more upset. Gregori's voice softened until it was the wind and the water, the earth itself. “Jacques has exchanged blood with
you many times. He can give you his if you prefer to safeguard your pact with him. Do not fear for us; there is no trap the vampire can devise that I cannot unravel. Sleep now, and let us get on with it.” The voice was a command.

Although Byron's mind was impossible to control, the voice made anyone hearing it want to comply. Byron was exhausted and wracked with pain. He felt his hold on consciousness slipping away. His life was draining away, and he couldn't convey to them the monstrous, diabolical plot the vampire had outlined to him as he lay so helpless. He could only hope they would figure it out in time. Byron shut down his heart to stop the draining of his blood. His lungs labored for a moment, then, with a little sigh, gave up, and he lay quiet, as if dead.

Gregori breathed a sigh of relief. “I could feel his pain.”

“I have felt it before,” Jacques replied grimly. “He is better off not feeling or knowing until we can see to his wounds.”

“He does not want my blood,” Gregori pointed out in his soft, calm tone. Nothing ruffled him; nothing moved him to emotion. He killed or healed as calmly as he talked.

“I am aware that I have entered into a pact with him. I will honor it,” Jacques said. “Let us find this trap so we can take him out of here. This place is evil.”

Gregori was examining the coffin itself, looking for hidden trip wires or a bomb of some kind. He ran his hand carefully along the outside of the crude wooden box. “The human left here knew nothing; they set him up as expendable. This has to be a death trap.” Very cautiously Gregori inspected the body lying so still. “He is in bad shape. He should have put himself to sleep immediately. He must have wanted to die quickly, or he knew they were expecting us and wanted to warn us. Whatever the answer, the day is
creeping upon us fast, and we must get him to a cave where we can supply him with blood and the healing earth he needs.”

“Stand back, healer, and allow me to lift him. He is my friend, although I do not remember him. I can do no other than honor my commitment to him.”

“Go slowly, Jacques. The bomb, if there is one, must be beneath him.” Gregori, instead of moving away, moved closer so that he could grab anything that looked harmful and dispense with it if needed.

Hurry, Gregori. The light grows stronger, and I am uneasy
, Mikhail instructed from outside.

Jacques very carefully felt under Byron's body, a slow, cautious sweep, taking his time as if the morning light was not affecting any of them. The smell of blood assailed his nostrils, and the stench of charred flesh made his stomach lurch. Near Byron's hips he felt the smallest of resistance. Instantly he stopped. “It is here, Gregori, a trip wire, razor sharp. It is cutting into my wrist. Can you see it? I dare not move until we know if it is connected to some kind of explosive device.”

Gregori crouched low and examined the intricate wiring. “A crude bomb, rather pointless. The vampire knows how easy it would be for me to dismantle it.”

“Perhaps this is a present from the two humans. It is a rather human trap, after all,” Jacques commented, waiting patiently for Gregori to deal with the problem. His superior strength allowed him to hold Byron's dead weight with one hand and not notice any strain. “Is there a second device? Perhaps the first one is really a dummy.”

Gregori was more than uneasy now. He was a master of deceit, of cunning. This was far too elaborate a plot to have been set up in a matter of an hour. This had been planned for a long time. Someone had waited for the opportune
time to carry it out. For what purpose? Mikhail felt uneasy also, as did Jacques. Something here was very wrong, but what was it? Puzzled, he examined the device again, not wanting to miss anything.

Shea stared out the window of the cabin into the driving rain. The droplets looked like tiny silver threads streaming from the gray sky. She shivered for no reason and crossed her arms protectively across her breasts.

“What's wrong, Shea?” Raven asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

“Jacques just cut himself off completely from me.” Shea swallowed hard. All this time she had been so certain she needed her freedom from the continuous bond between them, but now that Jacques had withdrawn, she felt almost as if she couldn't breathe. “I can't reach him. He won't let me.”

Raven sat up straighter, her face going very still.
Mikhail?

Leave me for now
, he ordered. Raven caught the impression of fear for Jacques' sanity, the swirling, violent rage that had welled up in the Carpathian males just before Mikhail broke the mind contact with her. She cleared her throat cautiously. “Sometimes they try to protect us from the harsher aspects of their lives.”

Shea whirled around to face her, eyebrows up. “
Their
lives? Aren't we bound to them? Haven't they done something to irrevocably bind us to them so that there is no way to leave them? It isn't just
their
lives. They brought us into this, and they have no right to arbitrarily decide what we can and can't know.”

Raven swept a hand through her blue-black hair. “I felt the same way for a long time.” She sighed. “The truth is, I still feel the same way. But we persist in judging them by our human standards. They are a different species of people altogether. They are predators and have a completely different view of right and wrong.”

Raven shoved a hand through her hair, frowning as she did so. “I wanted to wait to have a baby. But Mikhail has been noticing differences in Gregori, and we both knew he needed some hope to continue. It worries me, though, because I still have such a hard time fitting into their world.”

Shea crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Raven's chair. She could hear the fear in the woman's voice, and something in her instantly responded. “At least there are two of us now. We can gang up on them.”

Raven laughed softly. “It's such a fight all the time, maintaining any kind of control in my life with Mikhail. I have this feeling he's only going to get worse with this pregnancy.”

“And you're obviously going to have the healer on your back,” Shea pointed out. “He's more daunting than Jacques' brother.”

Raven sighed. “I wish I could say that wasn't true, but he's going to be horrible, really horrible. I can't blame him, though.”

“I don't understand what he meant exactly, but I could tell it was imperative I take good care of you.”

Raven tucked her feet beneath her. “Carpathians rarely
have children. There's something that prevents them from having a female child when they do conceive.”

Shea's mind instantly focused on amassing data. “Can you tell me more?”

Raven obliged. “About eighty percent of all children conceived are male. No one knows why. Only about seventy percent of pregnancies are carried to term. Most miscarry, and it isn't even within the first three months. It can happen at any time. Of those children born, only a handful survive the first year. Again, no one knows why. The last female child to survive was born over five hundred years ago.” Raven sighed. “The men are desperate. Mikhail and Gregori have a theory that only human women with true psychic ability can make the change and have the right chemistry to be a lifemate. Even if they're right, you can see the magnitude of the problem. Without women and children, the species cannot survive. The males turn vampire because they have no hope.”

“Perhaps it's nature's way of population control. They're able to live so long,” Shea mused, more to herself than to Raven.

“The species will be extinct soon if they can't find out what's wrong,” Raven said sadly. “Gregori is a great man. He's given so much to his people and suffered for so long. He deserves a better fate than turning vampire and being hated and feared by the world. Out of respect, Mikhail would never allow any other to hunt and destroy him, yet doing so himself would be agony. I'm not even certain anyone could actually destroy one such as Gregori alone. It would be a terrible thing for Gregori to be hunted by the very people he protected and healed.”

“Gregori must have researched the mystery of why there've been no female children for centuries. Surely he must have found a reason after all this time. At least he must have a few ideas.” Shea itched to come up with a hy
pothesis of her own. She suddenly wanted to talk to Gregori, hear all the data he had collected over the centuries.

“He certainly has worked on it. Maybe it will help for the two of you to get together and hash it out,” Raven said tactfully. “But you know, Shea, none of the information on our people can fall into the wrong hands. Any documentation on our race can be dangerous. For the good of our people, you must destroy all your research.”

“It isn't as if I came up with any data on Carpathians, Raven. I never even considered such a race of people. I was looking for an answer to a blood disorder. I knew people in this region had long been accused of being vampires. I think a lot of legends have a grain of truth in them somewhere, so it stood to reason something was going on here. That and the fact that my father was from this area made me decide to come here and see what I could find out. Honestly, Raven, there's nothing in my records to indicate a separate species of people with the kind of power these Carpathians wield. Everything is purely medical.”

“It's still dangerous to us. If it falls into the hands of these so-called scientists, they might figure things out.” Raven put a hand on Shea's arm. “I'm sorry, I know your records probably represent years of work, but, really, the work was for yourself, and you have the answers to your questions.”

“The work was for all those people who have the same blood disorder as I do.”

“It isn't a blood disorder, and they don't need a cure. They're a totally separate species, not human, and they have evolved into a very efficient species. They work hard and contribute much to society, but they would never be accepted by the human race. If you want to do medical research, then research a real problem, like why we can't carry babies to term. Why our babies die. Why our women don't conceive female children. That would be an invalu
able service. Believe me, all Carpathians would be eternally grateful. I would be grateful.” She put her hands protectively over her stomach. “If I do carry this baby to term, I couldn't bear to lose her after her birth.” Raven suddenly sat up straight. “I bet you could do it, Shea—find the answer for all of us. I bet you could.”

“Do something Gregori has failed to do after all these years? I doubt it. He seems very thorough to me.” Shea was skeptical.

“Gregori was the one who came up with the idea about human psychic women, and I'm certain he's right. You and your mother support his theory. He also thinks there's something in the Carpathian woman's chemistry that makes it nearly impossible for the female chromosome to beat out the male.”

“Wouldn't you know he'd think it was the woman,” Shea sniffed contemptuously. “More than likely the men determine the sex, just like in humans, and they just can't produce girls.” She grinned at Raven. “The men bring about their own destruction.”

Raven laughed. “Mikhail would never let me speak to you again if he could hear us. He thinks I'm too independent and disrespectful already.” She shrugged carelessly. “It's probably true, but it's a lot of fun. I love the way he gets that pained look on his face. He's so cute.”

“Cute? I'll bet he likes that description.” Shea got up and restlessly paced the floor. She was feeling uneasy without Jacques' touch and didn't want Raven to notice it. He had withdrawn only a short time ago, yet she felt uncomfortable, more than simply uneasy. She longed for the comfort of his mind touch. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I should destroy these papers. I'd hate to think that disgusting Don Wallace would find a way to use them against anyone. That man is a sociopath. I mean it, Raven, he's truly sick.”

Reluctantly Shea began to gather up reams of paper and
carry them to the fireplace. Her notebooks she hesitated over. She had collected a tremendous amount of folklore, beautiful stories really, along with scientific data. She hated to lose them. Taking a huge breath, she tossed them into the hearth as well and threw a match in after them.

She had to fight back tears. They seemed to burn her eyes and clog her throat until it was nearly impossible to breathe. And she knew it wasn't just losing the papers; it was Jacques' absence from her mind. She felt utterly alone, desolate. She found it harder and harder to concentrate without his presence.
When had she become so needy?
She hated the feeling of emptiness, barrenness. Where was he? Maybe something had happened to him. Maybe he was dead and had left her completely alone.

“Shea!” Raven said sharply. “Snap out of it. You aren't alone. Nothing is wrong with Jacques. It's amazing his silence is affecting you so severely when you've only been out of contact a short time.”

Shea rubbed her arms, suddenly cold. Her stomach was rebelling, and it was still hard to catch her breath. “I guess it's because Jacques never leaves me. He can't take being alone.”

Raven's eyes widened. “Never?”

Shea shook her head. “I thought it would drive me crazy at first. Most of the time I didn't recognize it, but he would know things I was thinking, and I would realize he'd been in my mind the entire time. He was alone so long, he needed constant contact with me to keep him sane.”

“This must be terrible for him,” Raven said. “To break contact with you, he must be in the middle of something big. Mikhail is blocking me out, too, and so is Gregori. But don't you worry, we'll be fine together. And we would still know if something were to happen to them.”

Shea powered up the generator so she could turn on her computer. She felt very uneasy, restless, even alarmed.
“Raven, you don't feel something is wrong, do you?” She typed in her password and waited for her files to appear on the screen.

“No, but I'm used to touching Mikhail occasionally for reassurance and letting him go. We've been together long enough to develop a kind of routine. I touch him, and whether or not he allows me into his mind, I know he's there. You could try that.”

Shea concentrated for a moment on giving the commands to destroy her data. With a sigh she paced back to Raven. “It's not that kind of uneasiness. It's something else. At first I thought it was because I wasn't touching Jacques' mind, but I don't think so anymore. I have the feeling something evil is watching us.”

Raven sent her mind seeking, scanning the surrounding woods carefully. There were deer a mile away. The three Carpathian men were even farther afield. “Rabbits, fox, wolves several miles out, but nothing scary that I can detect,” she assured her softly.

Shea picked up the shotgun and cracked it open to make certain it was loaded. “I feel almost sick, Raven. Something's out there.”

“It's the separation from Jacques. The first time it happened with Mikhail and me, I almost didn't make it through the night. Honestly, Shea, separation is very difficult at the best of times, let alone in the morning hours when we're growing weaker and we know the men are in danger. We may have been human, but we are their lifemates. Naturally we miss their mind touch.”

Shea wanted to believe her, but, just as she had felt an evil presence in the forest, she felt they were in danger now. She looked at Raven. This woman was important to all of them. Shea had promised Gregori she would keep Raven safe, and she was not about to be unprepared.
“Maybe,” she agreed softly. Nevertheless, she walked to the door, opened it, and stepped onto the porch to survey the woods.

Nothing. The rain drove down harder, and in the distance Shea could hear the rumble of thunder. Lightning flashed in the sky. She found herself shivering, and her finger absently sought the trigger on the gun. Annoyed with herself, she went back inside, set the shotgun beneath the window, and worked at controlling herself. Her behavior was unacceptable to her. She could not believe she needed Jacques so much that she would be physically ill and have such an impression of danger because she was without his mind touch. Shea did not want to think it was an illusion, a trick of her mind, yet it seemed the lesser of two evils.

“You're very pale, Shea. You need to feed,” Raven said carefully, knowing from her own experience what a touchy subject it could be.

Shea swallowed hard. She was dizzy with weakness. Maybe that was what was wrong; maybe it had nothing to do with Jacques. “I know. I just can't face it yet. I know I have to come to terms with it eventually, but it's still all too new.”

“You can't see yourself biting someone's neck, is that it?” Raven laughed softly. “I can't do it either. Yuck. Well…” She blushed, a faint pink stain spreading across her creamy skin. “Mikhail has a way of making it…” She trailed off.

Shea found herself blushing, too. “Yeah, I know what you mean. Jacques seems to have that same way about him.” Her hand curled around the stock of the gun again, and she tried to quiet the pounding of her heart. Her mouth was dry with fear.

Shea stole a glance at Raven. She was curled up peacefully, almost serene. Silently Shea cursed. Something was terribly wrong; she knew it deep within her, yet she
couldn't explain it adequately to herself or to Raven. “Have you ever tried to leave Mikhail?”

Raven glanced up, startled. A soft smile curved her mouth. “You can't leave your lifemate. One, he knows what you're thinking, and two, he can find you wherever you are. Besides, you can't be away from him for very long—it's too uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. If you left Jacques, what you're feeling right now would not stop, it would only get worse. You can't leave him, Shea. You have to learn how to live with him.”