Текст книги "Dark Prince"

Автор книги: Christine Feehan

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So what to do about Mikhail? She hadn’t learned to say no to him. She knew what love was. She had met a few couples who shared the genuine article. But what she felt toward Mikhail was so far beyond that emotion. It was more than passion and warmth; it bordered on obsession. Mikhail was in her somehow, flowing in her blood, wrapped in her insides, around her heart. He had somehow entered her mind, stolen some secret part of her soul.

It wasn’t simply that her body craved his, burned for his, that her skin crawled with need for him. She was like a drug addict desperate for a drug. Was that love or some sick obsession? And then there was what Mikhail felt for her. His emotions were so sharp, so intense. The way he felt around her made what she felt seem a pale imitation. Their relationship frightened her. He was so territorial, so possessive, so wild and untamed. He was dangerous, a man who ruled others and was used to having complete authority. Judge, jury, and executioner. So many people depended on him.

Raven put her hands over her face. He needed her. There was no one else for him. He truly needed her. Only her. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. There was no doubt in her mind. She saw it in his eyes. They were cold and emotionless when he looked at others. Those same eyes smoldered with molten heat when they looked at her. His mouth could be hard, edged with cruelty until it softened when he laughed with her, talked to her, kissed her. He needed her.

She went back to pacing. His customs, his way of living, were so different from hers. You’re scared, Raven,she chastised herself. She pressed her forehead against the window-pane. You’re really afraid

you won’t ever be able to leave him.He wielded so much power, used it without thought. It was more than that, if she was to be strictly fair. She needed him. His laughter, the way he touched her so gently, so tenderly. The way he burned for her, his gaze hungry and possessive, scorching, his need so urgent that he was wild for her. His conversation, his intellect, his sense of humor so close to her own. They belonged to each other. Two halves of the same whole.

Raven stood in the center of her room, shocked at her thinking. Why did she believe that they were meant to be together? Her mind seemed terribly distracted, chaotic even. Usually Raven was cool at all times, thinking things through rationally, yet it seemed she was almost incapable of that now. Everything in her cried out for Mikhail, just to feel his presence, to know he was near. Without conscious thought she reached out to him and found—space. He was either too far away or too deep in a drug-induced sleep for her to reach him. It left her shaky and feeling more alone than ever. Bereft even. She bit at her knuckles anxiously.

Her body moved because it had to. Back and forth across the room, over and over until she was totally exhausted. The weight in her heart seemed to have increased with every step. She was losing her ability to think straight, to breathe. Desperately she reached out again just to touch Mikhail’s mind once, to know he was somewhere safe. She found—emptiness.

Raven drew her knees up, dragged the pillow to her. There in the darkness, rocking back and forth, grief overwhelmed her. It consumed her so that all she could think was of Mikhail. He was gone. He had left her and she was completely alone, half a person, a mere shadow. Tears burned, ran down her face, and emptiness clawed at her insides. She could not possibly exist without him.

All her thoughts of leaving, all her careful calculations didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. The sane part of her whispered that it was impossible to feel this way. Mikhail couldn’t be her other half; she had survived for years without him. She couldn’t want to throw herself off the balcony simply because she couldn’t reach him with a mind touch.

Raven found herself walking across the room, step by slow step, as if someone other than herself compelled her to do so. She flung open the doors to the wraparound balcony. Cold air rushed in, with a hint of dampness. Fog completely veiled the mountains and forest. It was so beautiful, yet Raven was unable to see it. There could be no life without Mikhail. Her hands found the wooden railing, her fingers digging absently into two deep scars she found in the wood. She ran her fingertip back and forth in the depressions, a small caress, the only real thing in a barren world of emptiness.

“Miss Whitney?”

Wrapped up in her own grief, she had noticed no one. She whirled around, her hand going defensively to her throat.

“Forgive me for startling you.” Father Hummer’s voice was gentle. He rose from a chair positioned in the corner of her balcony. A blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, but she could see he was shivering from long exposure to the night air. “It isn’t safe out here for you, my dear.” He took her arm, led her like a child back to her room, and carefully locked the balcony doors.

Raven found her voice. “What in the world were you doing out there? How did you get out there?”

The priest smiled smugly. “It wasn’t hard. Mrs. Galvenstein is a member of the Church. She knows Mikhail and I are close friends. I simply told her Mikhail was engaged to you and that I needed to deliver a message. As I am old enough to be your grandfather, she thought it safe enough to allow me to wait on the balcony until you returned. And, of course, she would never pass up an opportunity to do something for Mikhail. He is very generous and asks very little in return. I believe he made the original purchase of the inn and allowed Mrs. Galvenstein to make much smaller, more reasonable and manageable payments to him.”

Raven kept her back to him, unable to stem the flood of tears. “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t talk right now. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He reached his hand over her shoulder to wave a handkerchief at her. “Mikhail was worried this night would be... difficult on you. And tomorrow. He hoped you would spend it with me.”

“I’m so afraid...” Raven confessed, “and it’s silly. There’s no reason to be afraid of anything. I don’t know why I’m behaving so badly.”

“Mikhail is fine. He’s indestructible, my dear, a great jungle cat with nine lives. I have known him for years. Nothing will keep Mikhail down.”

Sorrow. It invaded every inch of her body, crawled in her mind, lay heavy on her soul. Mikhail was lost to her. Somehow, some way, during those few hours he was apart from her, he had slipped away. Raven shook her head, her grief so deep and wild she was strangling on it, unable to get enough air to breathe.

“Raven, stop this!” Father Hummer caught her small, bent figure and guided her to the edge of the bed. “Mikhail asked me to be here. He said he would come for you early this evening.”

“You don’t know...”

“Why would he have gotten me out of bed at such an hour? I’m an old man, child. I need my rest. You need to think, use your intellect.”

“But it feels so real, as if he’s dead and I’ve lost him forever.”

“But you know it isn’t so,” he argued reasonably. “Mikhail chose you for his own. What you share with him is what his people share with their mates. They take the physical and mental bond for granted. They cherish it, and from what I have learned over the years it is so strong, one rarely survives the loss of the other. Mikhail’s people are more of the earth, wild and free like the animals, but with phenomenal abilities and a conscience.”

He surveyed her tear-ravaged face, the grief in her eyes. She was still laboring to breathe, but he felt her tears lessen. “Are you listening to me, Raven?”

She nodded, striving desperately to latch onto his words, to regain her sanity. This man knew Mikhail, had known him for years. She could read his affection for Mikhail, and he was certain of Mikhail’s strength.

“For some reason God has given you the ability to form a mental as well as physical link to Mikhail. With that comes awesome responsibility. You literally hold his life in your hands. You must get beyond this feeling and use your brain. You know he isn’t dead. He told you he would return. He sent me to you, afraid you might harm yourself. Think; reason. You are human, not an animal crying out for its mate.”

Raven tried to grasp what he was saying. She felt as if she was in a deep hole and couldn’t claw her way out. She concentrated on each of his words, forcing them into her mind. Deep breathing forced air into her burning lungs. Was it possible? Damn him for putting her through this, for knowing it would happen. Was she really that far gone?

Raven brushed the tears from her face, determined to pull herself together. She was determined to push the grief aside enough to let in rational thought. She could feel it eating at her, waiting on the outer edges of her consciousness to consume her. “And why can’t I eat or drink anything but water?” She rubbed at her temples, missing the alarm that spread across the priest’s weathered features.

Father Hummer cleared his throat. “How long has that been going on, Miss Whitney?”

The terrible emptiness crouched in her gut, in her mind, waiting to leap, to sink its teeth into her again. Raven struggled for control. She lifted her chin. “Raven; please call me Raven. You seem to know all about me anyway.” She was trying to control the trembling. Holding out her hands, she stared at them as they shook. “Isn’t this silly?”

“Come to my house, child. It will be dawn soon. You can spend the day with me. I would consider it a great honor.”

“He knew this would happen to me, didn’t he?” Raven asked softly, beginning to understand. “That’s why he sent you. He was afraid I might actually harm myself.”

Edgar Hummer let out his breath slowly. “I’m afraid so, child. They are not as we are.”

“So he tried to tell me. But I’m not like them. Why would this happen to me?” Raven asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. Why did he think this would happen?”

“You completed the ritual with him. You are his other half. The light to his darkness. One can’t be without the other. Come with me, Raven, back to my house. We’ll sit together and talk of Mikhail until he comes for you.”

Chapter Eight

Raven hesitated. The idea of learning more about Mikhail was tempting. Very tempting. “I think now that I know what is happening to me, I might be able to handle it on my own. It’s very late, Father, and I already feel ashamed that you’ve had to sit in the cold and watch over me.”

Father Hummer patted her wrist. “That’s nonsense, girl. I enjoy these little errands. At my age, one looks forward to the unusual. At least come downstairs and spend some time with me. Mrs. Galvenstein keeps a fire going in the parlor.”

Raven shook her head vigorously, an instinctive act of protection for Mikhail. The inn held many of his enemies within its walls. She would never place him in danger no matter how difficult a time she might be experiencing.

Edgar Hummer sighed softly. “I can’t leave you, Raven. I gave my word to Mikhail. He has done so much for my congregation, the people in this village, and asks little in return.” The priest rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I must stay, child, in case it grows worse.”

Raven swallowed hard. Margaret Summers was asleep somewhere in the building. Raven could guard herself, even her most intense grief, but she could easily read Father Hummer’s natural worry. If she could do it, Margaret could. Making up her mind, Raven caught up her jacket, brushed at the tears on her face, and led the way down the stairs before she changed her mind. The most important thing for her at that moment was to protect Mikhail. The need was elemental, part of her soul.

Once outside, Raven zipped her jacket to her chin. She had changed to her faded jeans and a college sweatshirt the moment she had returned to her room. Fog was everywhere, thick, only a foot or so from the ground. It was very cold. She glanced at the priest. His English might be a bit halting, but intelligence and integrity shone on his weathered features and in the faded blue of his eyes. He was cold from the time spent on the balcony. The priest was too old to be dragged from the warmth of his cottage to do such a task in the middle of the night.

She pushed back stray tendrils of hair as she forced herself to walk calmly through the village. It should have been peaceful, but she carried the knowledge that a group of fanatical people was murdering those they believed to be vampires. Inside her heart was aching and heavy. Her mind needed the reassurance of a mind touch with Mikhail. She glanced at the older man beside her. His walk was brisk, his manner restful, soothing. This was a man long ago at peace with himself and those around him.

“You’re certain he’s alive?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, just when she was so proud of herself for appearing normal.

“Absolutely, child. He gave me the impression that he would be gone this day until nightfall without the usual means of contacting him.” He grinned at her, a conspirator’s grin. “Personally, I use his pager. Gadgets fascinate me. When I visit him, I play on his computer as often as I can. Once I locked the thing up and it took him a while to figure out what I did to it.” He was absurdly pleased with that. “Of course, you understand, I could have told him, but it would have taken all the fun out of it.”

Raven laughed; she couldn’t help herself. “At last, a man after my own heart. I’m glad someone besides myself gives him a hard time. He needs it, you know. All those people bowing and scraping. It’s not good for him.” Her hands were freezing so she shoved them into her pockets.

“I do my best, Raven,” the priest admitted, “but we don’t need to be telling him. Some things are best kept between us.”

She smiled at him, relaxing just a little. “I agree with you on that. How long have you known Mikhail?” If she couldn’t reach out to him, touch him, maybe she could soothe the gaping raw wound of emptiness by talking about him. She found she was beginning to feel angry at Mikhail. He should have prepared her for this.

The priest looked toward the forest, toward Mikhail’s home, then raised his eyes heavenward. He had known Mikhail since his own youth, when he’d been a green priest, sent straight from his homeland to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Of course, he had been moved around since, but he was semiretired now, and they let him go where he wanted, the place he had grown to love.

Her blue eyes were sharp as they studied him. “I don’t want to put you in the position of having to lie, Father. I find myself doing enough of that for Mikhail, and I’m not even certain why. Lord knows, he doesn’t ask me to.” There was sorrow in her voice, regret, confusion.

“I wouldn’t lie,” he said.

“Is omission the same thing as a lie, Father?” Tears made her eyes luminous, sparkling on her long lashes.

“Something is happening to me, something I don’t understand, and it terrifies me.”

“Do you love him?”

She could hear the sound of their footsteps loud in the silence of the predawn hours. Their hearts beat steadily, their blood pumping in their veins. As she passed houses, she could hear snoring, creaks, rustles, the sound of a couple making love. Her fingers sought and found Mikhail’s ring as if it was a talisman. She covered it carefully with her palm, as if she could hold Mikhail there.

Did she love him?Everything in her was fascinated, exhilarated by Mikhail. Certainly the physical chemistry between them was powerful, explosive even. But Mikhail was a mystery, a dangerous man who lived in a world of shadows she could not possibly comprehend. “How do you love what you don’t understand, what you don’t know?” Even as she asked the question, she could see his smile, the tenderness in his eyes. She could hear his laughter, their conversations that went on for hours, their silences that stretched companionably between them.

“You know Mikhail. You are an extraordinary woman. You can sense his goodness, his compassion.”

“He has a streak of jealousy, and he’s more than possessive,” Raven pointed out. She knew him, yes, good and bad, and she had accepted him the way he was. But now she realized that although he had opened his mind to her, she had only glimpsed parts of him.

“Don’t forget his protective streak, his deep sense of duty,” Father Hummer countered with a small smile.

Raven shrugged, finding she was near tears again. It was humiliating to her to be so out of control when she knew the priest was right. Mikhail was not dead; he was somewhere in a drug-induced sleep and would get in touch with her the moment he was able. “The intensity of what I feel for him scares me, Father. It isn’t normal.”

“He would give his life for you. Mikhail would be incapable of harming you. If I know anything of him, I know that you can enter a relationship with him knowing he would never be unfaithful, never raise his hand to you, and always put you first in all things.” Edgar Hummer said the words with complete conviction. He knew the truth of it as surely as he knew there was a God in heaven.

She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “I believe he wouldn’t hurt me; I know he wouldn’t. But what of others? He has so many special gifts, so much power. The opportunity to misuse such a talent is tremendous.”

Father Hummer pushed open the door to his cottage and waved her inside. “Do you actually believe that is what he did? He is their leader by blood. The lineage goes back far in time. He is called their prince, although he would never admit it to you. They look to him for leadership and guidance, just as my congregation often comes to me.”

Raven needed something to do, so she built a fire in the stone fireplace while the priest brewed a cup of herbal tea. “He’s really a prince?” For some reason that dismayed her. On top of everything else, she was contemplating a commitment to royalty. Those things never worked out.

“I’m afraid so, child,” Father Hummer admitted ruefully. “He is considered the last word on everything. Perhaps that is why he tends to look and act as though he might be an important person. He has many responsibilities, and as long as I’ve known him, he has never failed to meet any of them.”

She sat back on the floor, pushing the heavy fall of hair away from her tearstained face. “Sometimes when Mikhail and I are together, it feels as if we’re two halves of the same whole. He can be so serious and brooding and so alone. I love to make him laugh, to bring life into his eyes. But then he does things...” Her voice trailed off.

Father Hummer set a cup of tea beside her, taking his familiar place in the armchair. “What kinds of things?” he prompted gently.

She let her breath out slowly, raggedly. “I’ve been alone most of my life. I’ve always done whatever I wanted to do. When I want, I pick up and move. I travel quite a bit and I value my freedom. I’ve never had to answer to anyone.”

“And you prefer that way of life to what you could have with Mikhail?”

Her hands shook as they circled the teacup, absorbing its warmth. “You ask tough questions, Father. I thought Mikhail and I could come to some sort of compromise. But it all happened so fast, and now I don’t know if the things I’m feeling are entirely my own. He’s always with me. Now, all of a sudden, he isn’t, and I can’t stand it. Look at me; I’m a mess. You didn’t know me before, but I’m used to being alone; I’m completely independent. Could he have done something to make this happen?”

“Mikhail would never force you to love him. I’m not certain he could do such a thing.”

She swallowed a steadying sip of tea. “I know that. But what about now—why can’t I be away from him? I like being alone, I value my privacy, yet without his touch, I’m falling apart. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is for someone like me?”

Father Hummer lowered his cup to the saucer and regarded her with troubled eyes. “There is no need to feel that way, Raven. I do know that Mikhail said when the male of his race meets his true lifemate, he can say ritual words to her and bind them together as they were meant to be. If she is not the one, neither is affected in any way, but if she is, one can’t be without the other.”

Raven put a defensive hand to her throat. “What words? Did he tell you the actual words?”

Father Hummer shook his head regretfully. “Only that once said to the right woman, she is bound to him and can’t escape. The words are like our marriage vows. Carpathians have a different standard of values, of right and wrong. There is no such thing as divorce to them; it isn’t in their vocabulary. The two people are virtually two halves of the same whole.”

“What if one was unhappy?” Her fingers were twisting together in agitation. She remembered hearing Mikhail say something unusual. The memory was hazy, like a dream.

“A Carpathian male will do anything necessary to ensure the happiness of his lifemate. I don’t know or understand how it works, but Mikhail told me the bond is so strong, a male can’t do anything else but know how to make his woman happy.”

Raven touched her neck, her palm lingering over her pulse. “Whatever he did must work, Father, because I’m not the type to throw myself off a balcony because I’ve been away from a man a couple of hours.”

“I guess we should both be hoping Mikhail is getting a taste of his own medicine,” Father Hummer said with a small smile.

Raven’s heart slammed hard in her chest, her body shrieking in instant protest. The thought of Mikhail suffering in any way was terribly upsetting. She tried to conjure up an answering smile. “Somehow I think he’s safe from feeling anything.”

The priest studied her shadowed, grief-stricken face over his teacup. “I think Mikhail is very lucky to have found you. You’re strong yourself, just as he is.”

“I’m putting up a great front, then”—Raven wiped at her eyes with her knuckles—”because I feel like I’m breaking apart inside. And I’m not very happy with Mikhail.”

“Nor do I think you should be, yet your first instinct is to protect him. You were horrified by the idea that he might be suffering as you are.”

“I don’t like to see anyone in pain. There’s something sad about Mikhail, as if he’s borne the weight of the world on his shoulders for far too long. Sometimes I look at his face and there’s such sorrow there—not in his eyes exactly but etched into his face.” Raven sighed. “I guess I’m not making any sense, but he needs someone to take the shadows away.”

“That’s an interesting assessment, child, and I must say, I know what you mean. I’ve seen the very same thing in him. Taking his shadows away.” He repeated the words aloud, musing over them. “That’s it exactly.”

Raven nodded. “Like he’s seen too much violence, too many terrible things, and it’s pulled him deeper and deeper into darkness. When I’m close to him I can feel that. He stands like a guardian in front of some evil, malevolent gate and holds monsters at bay so the rest of us can go about our lives and never know we were even threatened.”

Father Hummer’s breath caught in his throat. “Is that how you see him? A guardian of the gate?” Raven nodded. “It’s an image very vivid in my mind. I know it probably sounds melodramatic to you.”

“I wish I could have said those very words to him myself,” the priest said softly. “Many times he has come here seeking comfort, yet I never knew exactly what to say. I prayed God would send help to him to find his answer, Raven, and perhaps he sent you.”

She was trembling, constantly fighting the torment in her head, the need to touch Mikhail, the idea that he might be gone from Earth. Raven took a deep, calming breath, grateful for the priest. “I don’t think I’m God’s answer to anything, Father. Right now I want to curl up into a little ball and cry.”

“You can do this, Raven. You know he lives.”

Raven sipped at the tea. It was hot and delicious. It put some warmth back into her insides, but it could never hope to heat the terrible emptiness, ice cold and grasping, that was devouring her soul. Slowly, inch by inch, that black hole was growing.

She tried to concentrate on other things, to enjoy her conversation with this man who knew and respected, even had great affection for, Mikhail. Raven took another drink of tea, struggling desperately to hang on to her sanity.

“Mikhail is an extraordinary man,” Father Hummer said, hoping to distract her. “He is one of the most gentle men I have ever met. His sense of right and wrong is tremendous. He has a will of iron.”

“I’ve seen that,” Raven acknowledged.

“I’ll bet you have. Mikhail is a man few would want to have as an enemy. But he is also loyal and caring. I saw him restore this very village nearly single-handedly after a disaster once. Every person in it is important to him. There is a greatness in Mikhail.”

She had drawn up her knees and was rocking back and forth. Breathing was so difficult, each separate breath was agony to draw into her lungs. Mikhail! Where are you?The cry was wrenched from her heart. She needed him, just once, to answer, to touch her. Just once.

Black emptiness yawned back at her. Deliberately she bit down hard on her lower lip, welcoming the pain, concentrating on it. She was strong! She had a brain. Whatever was consuming her, convincing her that she could not bear to go on without Mikhail, would not defeat her. It was not real.

Abruptly Father Hummer got to his feet, then drew her up beside him. “Enough, Raven. Let’s go outside, tend my garden. Once you feel the dirt on your hands, breathe in the fresh air, you will feel so much better.” If that didn’t work, he would have no choice but to fall to his knees and pray.

Raven managed laughter through her tears. “When you touch me, Father, I know what you’re thinking. Is a priest supposed to hate getting down on his knees?”

He released her as if she had burned him, then began to laugh himself. “At my age, my dear, with my arthritis, I feel much more like swearing than praying when I kneel. And you have uncovered one of my greatest secrets.”

In spite of everything, they both laughed softly as they went out into the morning sunlight. Raven’s eyes watered, protesting the glare. She had to close her eyes against the pain slicing right through her head. She clapped her hand over her eyes. “The sun is so bright! I can hardly see and it hurts to open my eyes. Doesn’t it bother you?”

“Mikhail may have left a pair of sunglasses here. He tends to do that sort of thing when he loses a chess match.”

The priest rummaged through a drawer, returning with a pair of dark glasses, specially crafted for Mikhail. The frames were too large for her face, but Father Hummer fastened them with a band. Slowly Raven opened her eyes. The frames were surprisingly light considering just how dark the lenses were. The relief to her eyes was instantaneous.

“These are great. I don’t recognize the name.”

“One of Mikhail’s friends makes them.”

The garden was beautiful. Raven sank down and buried her hands in the rich, dark soil. Her fingers curled around its richness. Something heavy eased in her heart, allowed a little more air into her laboring lungs. She had an urge to lie down full length in the fertile bed, to close her eyes and absorb the earth into her skin.