Текст книги "Dark Desire"

Автор книги: Christine Feehan

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Joy welled up in the midst of pain. Shea. She had created a world where his soul could somehow touch light Vampires feel nothing but the momentary high a kill brings. They are amoral, deviant creatures.

Her chin lifted, eyebrows drawing together in concentration. “A kill?”

They always kill their prey when feeding. They do not place them in a trance. It feeds their high to experience their victim ‘s terror. They do not discriminate between man, woman, or child. The vampire has chosen to trade his soul for fleeting emotion.

“Do you kill?” Her fingers twisted together, and her breath seemed caught in her lungs. Why had she asked him that? She already knew the answer; she had glimpsed the darkness in him on more than one occasion.

Quite easily when necessary, but never my human prey. Heanswered matter-of-factly, without real thought. It was instinct, his predatory nature.

“People,Jacques,” she corrected. “We are people.” You are Carpathian.

“I don’t even know what a Carpathian is. Do you? Do you honestly know? Maybe you do have a rare blood condition, and somehow it gives you extraordinary gills.” Shea no longer seriously believed there was any hope of that. She was certain he knew the truth: he belonged to another species of people.

Exhaustion was winning the battle with Jacques. Mortal sleep was not rejuvenating, but until Shea became accustomed to her new life, he would not leave her unprotected. He closed his eyes. Ihave existed for over eight hundred years. I existed before Leonardo Da Vinci.The words were slurred in her mind.

She backed away from the bed until the wall brought her up short. Over eight hundred years? Shea pressed a hand to her head. What was he going to do next? Turn into a bat? A wolf? Nothing would surprise her now. Iprefer the wolf given a choice.There was a distinct smile in his voice, brushing in her mind. It softened the hard edges of his mouth, giving him that sensual, sexy look she could not resist.

You would,she sent back to him, inexplicable feelings for him spilling into her mind and heart.

There was so much about Jacques she didn’t know. Just how powerful was he? If vampires actually existed, had they originated from Carpathians, as Jacques implied? Did that mean a cold, merciless killer nature lay buried in Jacques, waiting to surface? Seven years buried alive should do a great job of bringing any latent hostilities out. Nor could she put aside the possibility that he was completely insane. She felt the madness in him, his struggle to find his memories and the truth, to suppress the violence within him. She sighed softly, touched his hair with a fingertip, her heart melting at the sight of him, so vulnerable, like a little boy. What was it about him that tore her heart out every time she faced the fact that he would get well and she would have to move on?

I am very powerful.

Startled, Shea looked at him. Jacques hadn’t moved. His eyes remained closed. “I’m sure you are.” Did he need reassurance?

I have no intention of allowing you to leave me.

She laughed softly. “I was just thinking what a vulnerable, boyish look you have in your sleep. Now I think you’re a spoiled brat.”

I am more powerful than a vampire, little red hair. I hunt them down and destroy them. I will have no trouble keeping you at my side.

“I’ll just have to make it my business to annoy you to the point that you’ll be happy to get rid of me.” She poured the last unit of blood into a glass for him. “I can do that, you know. My patients always are glad to see the last of me.”

I may be insane, Shea. I have thought about it for a long while. I know my nature is that of a predator.Hesounded very thoughtful, giving each of her worries his strict attention. But if I am truly insane, then I cannot be without you. I will need you every moment by my side to ensure the safety of all mankind.

Shea started to laugh, but as his serious tone registered, her smile faded. He was not teasing her. He was being as honest as he could be. Jacques didn’t know whether he was insane or not. “Sometimes, wild man, you break my heart,” she said softly.

You want to leave me, Shea. I feel the need in you to put distance between us.

“I have spent more time with you than I have with anyone in my life. I’ve told you more about myself, talked, laughed, and... and... “ She hesitated, blushing wildly.

Jacques opened his eyes, turned his head to look at her.

“Other things,” she went on decisively. “It isn’t like I’m thinking of deserting you. I just need space now and then, don’t you?”

He merged with her immediately. At once she felt stark emptiness. A black void that could never be filled. Her heart beat hard, pounding in near terror. The world was gray and black, dark and ugly. There was no relief, no hope, only the terrible emptiness of total despair.

Her breath caught in her throat. She touched his hair with gentle fingers, ran a fingertip along his jaw in a small caress. “You reallydislike being alone.”

I think the worddislike is not nearly strong enough,he answered dryly. I cannot breathe unless you are close to me.

“I didn’t realize it was so terrible for you. I’m sorry I was so insensitive, Jacques. I wasn’t meaning to be. I have a tendency to plan things out far in advance. What you’re picking up in my mind is something altogether different. Our situation is becoming desperate. I have to drive into one of the villages and get us some supplies. Blood, clothes for you.” She held up a hand. Merged as she was with him, she felt his instant rejection of her plan. “We don’t have a choice, Jacques. I’m going to have to leave immediately in order to get down to the village first thing in the morning.”

No! It is not safe. I will not allow such a thing. It is too risky.

She ignored his protest. “It is the only way that I can get back here by nightfall. I don’t want to leave you alone during the daylight hours, but we need blood, Jacques. You’re not healing as fast as you expect because we don’t have the amount of blood you need. And as much as I hate to think about it, I know you’re supplying me with blood. I was so weak before, but now I’m stronger. You gave me your blood, didn’t you?”

You cannot go.

She understood the terrible dread, the empty void he would feel if she left him alone now. The dark, ugly hole that swallowed him when he was without her. Her heart ached for him. To be imprisoned underground all those years, with no memory, only pain and darkness and starvation, had to have left mental scars.

I cannot be without you.His hand found hers, his fingers lacing with hers, a bond. To him it was simple. She was his balance, his sanity, or what little remained of it. She was light to his darkness. She could not leave him. He carried her fingertips to the warmth of his mouth.

She felt the jolt of sensual awareness right down to her toes.

His mind was open to hers, the ultimate intimacy, so that she could feel his every emotion, read his every thought if she chose. Dark desires mingled turbulently with stark resolve to keep her close to his side. Isolation yawned like a black, empty hole. So alone. So much pain. Emptiness. Hunger. Always the terrible hunger consuming him. She found tears on her face. Her arms cradled his head, rocked him gently. “You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered. “I’m right here with you, Jacques. I’m not leaving you alone like this.”

It is still in your mind to leave me. You cannot hide your intentions from me, Shea. I have explained countless times to you. You are my true lifemate. There cannot be deceit between us.

Shea laid her head gently over his. The dark emotions whirling within him were becoming alarming to both of them. Violence was mixed with terror. “I have never tried to deceive you. You know that. I don’t lie to you, and I don’t play games. We need the blood. You won’t get better without it. There’s no other way.”

You cannot leave me, Shea.This time his voice was a demand. He lost the indulgence often present when he conversed with her. All at once he was a being of enormous power, arrogant and commanding.

Shea sighed, her fingers caressing the strong bones of his face. “Don’t go getting all bossy with me, wild man. We need to stay focused on our problem. We need blood. And I don’t have any clothes that would fit you. Do you have a better idea?”

Wait until I am stronger and can go with you to protect you.

She shook her head. “You keep getting mixed up. I’m supposed to be protecting you. I’m your doctor.” You are my lifemate. There is only one. You are mine. Only one.

She lifted her head, green eyes searching his face. “You’ve never lived with a woman? You must have had sex.”

Carpathians do not live with any other than their lifemate. Sex is a simple sharing of the body, a pleasure that fades along with emotions after two hundred years if we do not find our lifemate.

“I don’t understand. Without a lifemate, Carpathians feel nothing?”

Nothing, Shea. Not affection or remorse, not right or wrong. Certainly not desire. After two hundred years Carpathian males cannot feel.

Color flooded her face. “You feel desire when you’re with me. I may not be experienced, but I do have medical training.”

His fingers tightened around hers, his breath warm along her knuckles. Iwant you with every cell in my body, with my mind and my heart. Your soul is the other half of mine. When you are with me, I feel. Joy, desire, anger, even laughter. You are my lifemate. I have waited over eight hundred years to find you. I could not see color until you came into my life.His black eyes, worn with suffering, fastened on her green ones. I cannot lose you. I can never be alone again. Mortals and immortals alike would be in danger should I lose you.

She didn’t want to touch that. She murmured his name softly, brushed a kiss against his temple almost without knowing it.

I cannot exist without you, little red hair. There is darkness in me. The beast is strong. I struggle every moment against loss of control. My lifemate is my anchor. Only you can save me, keep me from walking in complete madness.

Shea brushed the hair from his face with gentle fingers. “How do you know this? You’ve admitted you can’t remember much.”

I have opened my mind to you. You know it is true. You anchor me, and I can do no other than see to your happiness.

Shea couldn’t help but smile. “You have no idea how arrogant that sounds. You aren’t responsible for my happiness. I’m responsible for my own happiness. And at this moment, whether your macho pride can deal with it or not, I am the one responsible for your health and safety. We don’t have time to wait until you’re better. I have to go now. Every day we wait gives Don Wallace time to find us. When you’re able to travel, we’ll leave this place.” Her hand caressed his thick mane of hair. “I have to go, Jacques. I’m not leaving you, I’m only going for supplies.”

He retreated from her for a moment and as always, it was impossible to read his expression. His black eyes flickered. I will go with you.

Shea sat up reluctantly, hating to have to prove her point but knowing she must thwart his resolve. “Then let’s try going outside onto the porch. Let me do most of the work.”

You think I cannot do this.

“I think your will is strong, Jacques, but your body is weak. Perhaps I’m wrong. I hope I am.” She was silent as she made the preparations. She knew he couldn’t do it, not without terrible pain. The gurney was narrow and uncomfortable. Shea padded it with a blanket. As she helped him from the bed to the gurney, he broke out in a sweat, but he didn’t make a sound. With a sinking heart she pushed him out into the night air. Of course he would tolerate movement silently. He had endured torture and hours of surgery without painkillers or anesthesia. If he made up his mind to do this, he would do so without complaint.

Jacques pushed the pain aside, staring up at the stars, inhaling the night. His world—open air, the rush of wings, the high chirp of bats, the call of insects. He closed his eyes, the better to absorb the smells, the stories. His body resisted the physical exertion, crawled with pain, a dull-edged knife sawing away at his chest.

“Jacques, please don’t be stubborn. I feel what you feel.”

There is no need, Shea. Do not merge with me. I would not wish this on you.

“Please allow me to take you inside and get you into bed. Just this small amount of movement is hurting you. I won’t take you to the village no matter what you say. If the circumstances were reversed, you wouldn’t take me.”

A slight grin curved his mouth. If the circumstances were reversed, there would be no need to go to the village. I would call every human in the vicinity to nourish you.There was a threat in his voice, subtle but still there, and she caught the echo of his censored thought. No human would ever be safe from him if Shea were hurt.

Shea touched his forehead gently. “I’m safe, Jacques, and for now, I’m in charge.”

He gave the mental equivalent of absolute derision. This place is familiar to me.He was surveying his surroundings now, a peculiar glow in his black eyes. I know this place. Something happened here a long time ago that I should remember.His hand went of its own volition to his throat, tracing the thin, almost nonexistent white line curving around his jugular. Only a severe mortal wound can leave a scar.He murmured it aloud under his breath, as if to himself.

Shea remained very quiet, holding herself still, wanting to allow any memory possible to come to Jacques.

I have been here, some time ago. Perhaps a quarter of a century.Hishead ached, but the memory shimmered, solidified instead of slipping away. His black eyes moved restlessly over the clearing. There was a fight here. A vampire, high and powerful from afresh kill. I had never fought one before; it was my first time. I was not prepared for his strength, his ferocity. Maybe I just could not believe one of my own kind, even turned, would do such evil.He frowned in concentration, tried to catch more fragments and hold on to them. I was guarding someone, someone important, someone who could not fall into the hands of the vampire. There are so few...

The last thought seemed to trail off. Shea merged her mind firmly with his, felt his confusion, his frustration at being unable to capture and pin down the information. Shea put a hand on his forehead, wanting to soothe him. Her touch was tender, her green eyes anxious.

So familiar. Not green, but blue. A woman. Carpathian women are so few. We must guard them well, protect them. It was a woman I was guarding, and she was special. Our hope for the future.

Her heart nearly stopped. Jacques had fought for another woman, nearly lost his life, if the scar was any indication. What woman?Shea was totally unaware she had used the Carpathian lifemate’s method of communication.

Through the pain of his body and his pounding head, joy and male amusement washed over him. His little red-haired doctor did not like the idea of another woman in his life. She had blue eyes, and there were tears in them, such as you have in yours now.He touched one glittering drop with a fingertip, brought it to his mouth to taste. His body, always voraciously hungry, absorbed that bead as if absorbing her very essence.

Who was she, Jacques? Or who is she?Amale like Jacques, so handsome, sensual, intense—of course he had to have a woman stashed somewhere. Shea bit her lip so hard, two drops of blood beaded up.

Jacques tried to hold on to the fragments slipping in and out of his head. He sensed that the information was of great importance to both of them. Shebelonged to another. He is...Pain gripped his head in a vise and squeezed hard.

Shea laced her fingers through his. “Let it go, Jacques, we don’t need it.” She smoothed the hair from his forehead. “It will come in time. Look how much you’ve already remembered.” It was shocking to her just how much of a relief it was to learn that the unknown important woman belonged to another.

If it is not some fantasy.Itwas half humor, half self-censure. His hand came up, caught the nape of her neck, and pulled her down so that he could kiss her soft, trembling mouth. His tongue swept the ruby droplets from her full lower lip.

“I told you to stay out of my head.” She returned his kiss gently, taking care not to jar him. “Let’s go in and make you comfortable.” It seemed harder for her to bear his pain than it was for him.

Another minute. Listen to the song of the night. The wolves call to one another in joy. Do you hear?

She did. How could she not? A distance away the pack lifted their muzzles skyward and poured out their happiness to one another. It was impossible to contain it within their bodies, and it flowed from their hearts, out their throats into the night. It was so beautiful, so pure, so much a part of their world. The notes, each different, unique to the individual animal, floated through the forest, lifted to the very heavens. She belonged here in this land. She belonged with the wolf pack, the mountains, and the night. She turned her head to look at Jacques, found him clutching his head as memories crowded in, jagged bits and pieces that teased and frustrated, that felt like piercing shards of glass.

I should remember him. Someone important. I remember the fight.Hishand went once more to his throat. The vampire slashed my throat. The woman saved my life. She pretended to be hysterical, but she packed the wound with soil and her saliva as she cried over me. The vampire took her. Why can I not remember the important one?

“Stop it right now!” Shea ordered sharply as she stroked away the crimson stain on his forehead. “I’m taking you back into the house this minute.”

Shea.Hername was a magic talisman, a soothing balm to his tortured mind.

I’m here with you, Jacques.She merged with him immediately, held him close physically. It will all come in time, I promise you.

His hand brushed her throat, the raw, ragged wounds and bruises that refused to heal. Without proper blood and the rejuvenating sleep of their people, her body could not heal itself. Look at you, what I have done to you. And I cannot guard you, as I must, as is my duty. I am of little use to you.

Shea tugged at his hair, a tiny punishment. “I don’t know, Jacques, you’re more than adequate at giving orders.” She maneuvered the gurney back into the cabin, then took the opportunity to put fresh sheets on the bed before helping Jacques onto it. “You know I have to go,” she said softly.

Jacques lay very still, staying on top of the pain, drifting with it, grateful for the comfortable bed and her soothing touch. He loved the feel of her fingers caressing his hair, his forehead, stroking away his pain. I cannot allow you to go unprotected.His resolve was fading. She could tell he didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was necessary.

“I’ll be leaving you unprotected as well. But we can do this. It isn’t as if either of us will really be alone. Does distance matter? Our bond is so strong, can’t we use it across a few miles? After all, you called me from thousands of miles away.”

His black gaze reflected pain, but he was becoming more resigned to the trip. It is true, we can touch one another at will, but it consumes my energy. Over a distance it may be difficult.

“Only because I always let you do the work.” Shea checked the loads in the shotgun and rifle and laid two boxes of cartridges beside the weapons, near his hand. “I’m getting good at this mind-reading thing. My mother was supposed to be psychic, and supposedly I inherited her gift. Who knows, maybe it’s true.”

Our bond is growing stronger with each blood exchange, with each passing moment we are together.

“So if we were apart I might stop wanting to be around you?” she teased. “If I had known it was that simple, I would have sat outside most of the time.”

He caressed her silky hair. I will allow you to do this thing, but do not—he broke off the thought abruptly.

But not before Shea caught the echo of the primitive, territorial male. Her eyebrows shot up. Sometimes he reminded her more of a wild animal than a man. “Less of this allowstuff. It offends my independent nature.”

She was smiling again, gently teasing him, and Jacques felt surrounded by her light. It seemed to shine through her vivid green eyes and lead him away from the yawning emptiness. She was making perfect sense, and in this moment of lucidity, he could do no other than acquiesce. Still, how was he going to be without her even for a short time? How would he survive as each minute, each second crawled by? Jacques closed his eyes, a fine sheen of sweat coating his skin at the thought of the darkness he would endure. The agony. The isolation.

“Jacques, don’t. You said you could shut down your heart and lungs. If you do that, do you feel or think? Dream?” Have nightmares?

No, but I dare not sleep in the way of our people. When you are separated from me or you choose the sleep of mortals, I must remain alert.

“I’ll be fine. Put yourself to sleep and escape for just a little while. I’ll take off and get as far as I can tonight.”

You must not allow anything to happen to you, Shea. You cannot comprehend how important it is that you come to no harm. I cannot be without you. You brought me back into this life. I know my mind is not right. You cannot desert me when I need you the most. I would not be able to find my way back from the madness of the beast.

“I have no intention of deserting you, Jacques,” she assured him.

Do not forget that you must merge with me this time.Therewas a trace of fear in his voice.

“I will check in often, Jacques. And you tell me if anything goes wrong on your end. Understand? No more of this chest-beating macho stuff.”

Chapter Six

Dawn was streaking the sky by the time Shea managed to make the trip over the rough terrain to the nearest village. She needed fuel, herbs, sutures, various supplies, and, most of all, blood. Whole blood. She had always had to fight off fatigue during the daytime, but now it was more than simple fatigue; she was exhausted. She was terrified of being caught alone in her camper in such a weak state. She knew it would be virtually impossible to protect herself. More than anything else, she feared that something might attack Jacques while she was away.

Shea parked her truck at the village petrol station and slipped from the cab. Almost immediately she was uneasy, not certain why. Few villagers were out and about at such an early hour. She leaned casually against the truck, taking a long look around. She could detect no one, but she felt eyes on her, someone or something watching her. The feeling was strong. Lifting her chin, she forced herself to ignore her overactive imagination while she filled the truck, its reserve tank, and the two tanks for her generator.

The feeling of being watched became so strong, it made her skin crawl. Without warning something pushed at her mind. Not Jacques. It wasn’t his familiar touch. Fear slammed into her, but she kept her cool, professional mask, her single-minded purpose to finish her tasks as quickly as possible. Whatever it was retreated, unable to penetrate.

Shea drove down the nearly deserted street and parked close to the small medical clinic. This time, as she slid from the seat, she searched the shadows around her carefully, using every sense she could. Sight. Smell. Hearing. Instinct. There was someone, something. It had followed her, was near. She could feel it, but she couldn’t find it.

Jacques?Shetouched his mind gently, suddenly afraid she was feeling something that was happening to him.

I am awaiting your return.She sensed his tiredness. The morning light was even harder on him than on her. She hated being away from him.

I will come soon.Shea took another deep breath and looked around, determined to find what was making her so uneasy. A man lounged lazily in the shade of a tree. He was tall, dark, and motionless, like a hunter. She felt the impact of his eyes as his gaze casually found her.

Her heart jumped. Who was he? Had Wallace found her so soon? Shea turned away. First, before anything, she had to complete her business. She dragged out her laptop computer and typed in the commands to access the clinic’s blood bank. If she had to move Jacques, they would need supplies desperately.

In another moment, Shea felt silly. The door to the small general store across the street swung open. The short, stooped owner emerged, apron tied around his ample middle, a broom in his hand. He waved openly at the motionless figure beneath the tree. “Byron. Good morning to you. Bit early, isn’t it?” She recognized the local dialect.

The tall, dark-haired man replied in the same language, but his voice was low, a beautiful tone. He stepped out of the shadows, young, good-looking. He flashed a quick, friendly smile at the grocer approaching him. Clearly they knew one another, were friendly. The dark-haired man was obviously no stranger to the area. Neither exhibited the least interest in Shea. She watched as Byron bent his head solicitously down to the older man, listening intently, his arm circling the shopkeeper’s shoulders.

Shea breathed a soft sigh of relief. The feeling of being stalked was gone, and she couldn’t be certain if it had been real or imagined. She watched for a moment as the two men moved deeper into the shade, until they were merely a dark shadow blending with the trees. Laughter floated back toward her. The taller, younger man bent his head even closer to the shopkeeper to hear every word. Hurrying into the store, she purchased from the shopkeeper’s assistant an extra blanket and pillow, several blocks of ice, and some clothing for Jacques.

The small hospital was ready with her medical supplies, a friendly clerk asking about her mobile clinic, treating her like a valued client. Feeling slightly guilty, she completed her transactions quickly. She needed to get to her truck and find a dark area to sleep in until it was safe to return to Jacques. She rushed outside.

Light pierced her eyes like a thousand needles. Shea stumbled, then felt a strong hand close like a vise around her upper arm, preventing her from falling. Murmuring a thank you, she fumbled in her pocket for her dark glasses to cover her streaming eyes.

“What are you doing here alone, unprotected?” The voice was pitched low, the dialect and accent eerily similar to Jacques’.

Shea’s breath caught in her throat, and she straggled for release. The tall, dark-haired man merely pushed her into the shadows, her back to the wall of the building, his large frame easily blocking hers. “Who are you?” he asked. “You are small and fair for one of us.” His hand caught her chin so that she met the penetration of his sunglass-shaded eyes. “Your scent is familiar to me but elusive. How is it I did not know of your existence?” For just a moment satisfaction curved his mouth. “You are free. That is good.”

“I don’t know you, sir, and you’re scaring me. I’m in a great hurry, so please let me go.” Shea used her coolest, most disdainful voice, and she deliberately spoke English. The man was enormously strong, and it terrified her.

“I am Byron.” He gave only his first name, as if that should be enough. “I am a male of our race, you a single female. The sun is climbing, and you did not give yourself enough time to seek refuge from the dawn. I can do no other than help you, offer my protection.” He switched easily to heavily accented English.

His voice seemed to slide right inside her. He gave the illusion of being a gentleman, so friendly, yet he had not released her or moved even an inch to allow her to get by him. He inhaled, dragged her scent into his lungs. Suddenly his entire demeanor changed. His body stiffened. His fingers dug into her arm. White teeth gleamed a predator’s flash of warning. “Why did you not answer me when I spoke to you?”

His words were low and menacing. The suave stranger was frightening.

“Let go of me.” She kept her voice even, her mind working at top speed, looking for a way out. He seemed to hold all the cards, but...

“Tell me who you are,” he demanded.

“Let go of me now.” She lowered her voice, pitched it to a soft, hypnotic melody. “You want to let me go.”

The stranger shook his head, his eyes narrowing, recognizing the hint of compulsion in her voice. He inhaled a second time, drinking in her fragrance. At once his face seemed to go still. “I recognize that scent. Jacques. He is dead these seven years, yet his blood runs in your veins.” His voice crawled with deadly threat.

For a moment she was frozen with fear. Was this the betrayer Jacques had spoken of? Shea swung her head sideways to remove his fingers from her chin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let go of me now!”

Byron let out his breath in a low, venomous hiss. “If you wish to see another night, you will tell me what you have done with him.”

“You’re hurting me.” He was drawing closer, leaning toward her neck, bending her backward like a bow as she tried to elude him. His breath was hot on her throat, and Shea gasped as she felt needle-sharp teeth pierce her skin. With a low cry she jerked sideways, her heart pounding.

Without warning he caught at the neckline of her shirt to examine the bruises at her throat. She could feel his puzzlement, his confusion. Shea took advantage of his momentary distraction. As hard as she was able, she brought up her knee and screamed for all she was worth. Byron looked so shocked, she nearly laughed. He had been absolutely certain she wouldn’t want attention drawn to her. His hiss, a deadly promise of retaliation, was the last thing she heard before he melted away.

And he literally melted away. Shea never saw him move. One moment he was there, his body trapping hers against the wall, and then he was gone. A fine mist was mixing with the layers of fog covering the ground to about knee level.

Two orderlies came running, hearing her screams. Shea, holding her palm to the trickling wound on her neck to cover it, allowed them to soothe her, to assure her the animal she thought she saw lurking in the shadows was most likely a stray dog, not a wolf. They went off shaking their heads and laughing at how silly women could be.