Текст книги "Dark Prince"

Автор книги: Christine Feehan

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

No!Mikhail’s voice was sharp and imperious.

Do not!Gregori added his strength to Mikhail’s protest.

The vampire wrapped his hand around her throat in his fury that she might choose death and defeat him.

His touch made her skin crawl; her stomach roiled in protest. Suddenly the vampire screamed and leaped back away from her, his face contorted in fury and pain. Raven could see his charred and blackened palm, still smoking as he held it to his chest. Mikhail had sent his own warning and challenge.

“You think he will win,” the vampire snarled at her, “but he will not. Now drink!” His hands closed around her wrist, steadying her hand.

Raven’s mind splintered and screamed at the close proximity of such evil. The crumpled body of Edgar Hummer lay in plain sight, no more than a heap of refuse to the vampire. Touching Andre, she could read his mind easily. He was the most depraved being she had ever encountered.

The drug would confuse her enough that he could make her believe she belonged to him. Mikhail would be kept alive, living in pain and torment, too weak to attack his captors. Slovensky enjoyed inflicting pain. His brother was eager to dissect a vampire, experiment on one. The vampire was certain the Slovensky brothers would die at the hands of the avenging Carpathians. She read it all, the betrayal and the hideousness of the undead’s plans.

Mikhail! Do not come to this place!She resisted the compulsion to drink the tainted blood, struggling feebly in the vampire’s foul hold. I will not allow you to fall into their hands. I will choose death.

“Drink!” The vampire was becoming alarmed. Her heart was stuttering with effort. There was a smear of crimson across her forehead, indicating agony.

“Never,” she said between clenched teeth.

“She dies, Mikhail. Is this what you want for her? She dies in my arms, with me, and I have won anyway.” Andre shook her in his fury. “He will commit suicide the moment you relinquish life. Are you so stupid that you do not realize that? He will die.”

Her blue-violet eyes searched the gaunt face. “He will destroy you first.” She said it with complete conviction.

My love.Mikhail’s voice was black velvet, soothing in her pain-filled mind. You must allow me to decide this matter. You give me no choice but to force your compliance. This should be our decision together, but you cannot see beyond the threat to me. He cannot defeat me. Believe that; hold on to that. He cannot separate us. We live in each other. He does not understand our bond. Together we are too strong for him. I will allow him to capture me. I allow it; that is all.

The vampire knew the moment Mikhail’s will dominated. Raven allowed the glass to be brought to her lips. Even under compulsion, her body tried to reject the nourishment. The vampire could feel her stomach heave and fight. Her bond with Mikhail allowed her lifemate to calm her enough to accept what the vampire offered.

Her heart and lungs responded almost immediately to the liquid. Her breathing became less labored; her body grew warm. The moment Mikhail relinquished her will, Raven attempted to squirm away from the vampire. He tightened his arms around her, deliberately rubbing his face against hers. His laughter was cruel, gloating even. “You thought him strong, did you not? But, you see, he jumps to do my bidding.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you betray him?”

“He betrays all of our people.” Mikhail strode through the door, tall and strong, looking invincible.

Slovensky flattened himself against the wall, trying to appear inconspicuous. Andre pressed a razor-sharp claw into Raven’s jugular. “Be very, very careful, Mikhail. You could kill me, there is no question, but she will die first.” Andre dragged her even closer, locking her in front of him as he lifted her body completely off the ground. Blankets scattered as Raven was dangled helplessly, her eyes fastened on Mikhail.

Mikhail’s smile was tender, loving, as he focused on her face. I love you, little one. Be brave.“What do you wish, Andre?” His voice was gentle and low.

“I want your blood.”

“I will give it to Raven to replenish her.”

Raven’s heart slammed against her ribs. Deliberately she leaned into Andre’s claw. A dot of blood beaded, trickled down her neck. The vampire tightened his arm around her ribs, nearly cracking them. “Do not do such a stupid thing again,” he reprimanded her, then turned his attention back to Mikhail. “You cannot come close enough to her to give blood. Drain it into a container.”

Mikhail shook his head slowly. He wants my blood for himself, love, to become more powerful, to aid the drug in confusing your mind.Already he could feel the effects of the drugs in her. She was struggling to stay with him. I cannot allow him my blood.The words echoed sadly.

Raven reached for Gregori. You must come.

The drug he has given you is an ancient one,Gregori explained, the words brushing softly in her mind, made from the pressed petals of a flower found only in the northern regions of our lands. It will disorient you, but that is all. The vampire will attempt to plant his own memories of you with him and then will use pain to control your thoughts. He has established a blood bond, so he can monitor you. When you think of Mikhail, he can cause you pain. It is not the drug, it is the vampire. Censor your thoughts as much as possible to conserve your strength. When you reach for Mikhail as your mind and body must, Andre must not know. You focus better than any Carpathian I have known. He knows nothing of our bond. I can find you anywhere. The moment I am finished attending Jacques, I will go to Mikhail. You have my word Mikhail will survive. We will find you. Stay alive for the sake of all our people.

The vampire and Mikhail stared across the room at one another. Power emanated from Mikhail’s every pore. He looked coolly amused by the vampire’s dilemma.

A ripple of malevolence distorted the tense vibrations in the room, striking at Raven’s temple. Mikhail!

She screamed the warning in her mind as Slovensky shot him three times. In the small cell, the noise was a loud clap of thunder reverberating off the rock walls. The bullets drove Mikhail backward and he fell beside Father Hummer, his precious blood staining his white silk shirt a vivid crimson.

“No!” Raven fought the vampire in earnest, fear lending her strength that the loss of her blood had taken. For a moment she wrenched herself nearly free but was jerked back, the vampire’s hands around her throat, squeezing hard. Raven fought down panic. She didn’t dare pass out. Gregori, Mikhail’s down. They shot him.

I feel it. All Carpathians feel it. Do not worry. He will not die.Gregori was clearly moving closer.

They were very careful to inflict flesh wounds that bleed heavily, not mortal wounds such as they gave Jacques. He is conveying to me the extent of his injuries.

The vampire dragged Raven with him to the door. “The others will come, but it will be too late. Do not think he will get out of this,” he hissed in her ear. “Slovensky and the others will die for this deed, and with them all records of what occurred in this place. You will be mine, far away where they cannot find you.”

Raven kept her eyes and mind focused on Mikhail, broadcasting to Gregori everything she saw: Slovensky manacling Mikhail’s wrists and ankles, chaining him to a wall, laughing, taunting, kicking at him. Mikhail remained silent, his dark eyes very black, glinting like ice.

The vampire lifted her slender body, ran with blurring speed from the place of death and destruction, launched himself skyward, his talons gripping Raven as he sped into the night.

Gregori merged his mind with Mikhail’s easily. Over the centuries of battles, wars, and vampire hunters, they had exchanged blood many times to preserve one another’s life. Mikhail was in pain, his blood loss great. The shooting had been a deliberate attempt to weaken his immense power. Slovensky was busy taunting Mikhail with graphic details of torture.

Mikhail’s black eyes smoldered an eerie red, a burning flame he turned on Slovensky as the man approached him. The power in those chilling eyes stopped Slovensky for a moment. “You’ll learn to hate me, vampire,” James Slovensky snarled. “And you’ll learn to fear me. You’ll learn who really holds the power.”

A slight, mocking smile touched Mikhail’s mouth. “I do not hate you, mortal. And I could never fear you. You are but a pawn in a game of power. And you have been sacrificed.” The voice was very low, a musical thread of sound that Slovensky found himself wanting to hear again.

The man knelt beside his victim, smiling his pleasure at the other’s pain. “Andre will give us the rest of you bloodsuckers.”

“And why would he do that?” Mikhail closed his eyes, his face lined and strained, but the hint of a smile remained.

“You turned him, forced him into such an unholy life, the same way you turned the woman. He is going to try to save her.” Slovensky leaned closer, drew his knife. “I think I should dig that slug out of you. We wouldn’t want you getting an infection now, would we?” His giggle was high-pitched with anticipation.

Mikhail didn’t flinch away from the blade. His black eyes snapped open, blazing with power. Slovensky fell backwards, scrambling away on all fours to crouch against the far wall. Fumbling in his coat, he jerked out the gun and held it pointed at Mikhail.

The ground rolled almost gently, seemed to swell so that the concrete floor bulged, then cracked. Slovensky grabbed for the wall behind him to steady himself and lost the gun in the process. Above his head a rock fell from the wall, bounced dangerously close, and rolled to a halt beside him. A second rock, and a third fell, so that Slovensky had to cover his head as the rocks rained down in a roaring shower.

Slovensky’s cry of fear was high and thin. He made himself even smaller, peering through his fingers at the Carpathian. Mikhail had not moved to protect himself. He lay exactly as Slovensky had positioned him, those dark eyes staring at him. Swearing, Slovensky tried to lunge for the gun.

The floor bucked and heaved under him, sending the gun skittering out of reach. A second wall swayed precariously and rocks cascaded down, striking the man about the head and shoulders, driving him to the floor. He watched a curious, frightening pattern form. Not one rock touched the priest’s body. Not one came close to Mikhail. The Carpathian simply watched him with those damn eyes and that faint mocking smile as the rocks buried Slovensky’s legs, then fell on his back. There was an ominous crack, and Slovensky screamed under the heavy load on his spine.

“Damn you to hell,” Slovensky snarled. “My brother will track you down.”

Mikhail said nothing, simply watching the havoc Gregori was creating. Mikhail would have killed James Slovensky outright, without the drama Gregori had such a flare for, but he was tired, his body in a precarious state. He had no wish to drain his energy further. Raven would be in the vampire’s hands for the time it took Gregori to heal him. He couldn’t allow himself to think of what Andre might do to her. Mikhail stirred, pain shafting through him. More rocks fell on Slovensky in retaliation, covering him like a blanket, beginning to form a macabre grave.

Gregori moved into the room with his familiar silent glide, grace and power clinging to him as he strode through the wreckage of the wall. “This is becoming a bad habit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mikhail said without rancor.

Gregori’s touch was infinitely gentle as he inspected the wounds. “They knew what they were doing. Placed these precisely to miss vital organs but to bleed you as much as possible.” It took seconds to deal with the manacles and free Mikhail from the chains. Gregori pressed soil over the wounds to stop further leakage.

“Check Father Hummer.” Mikhail’s voice was weak.

“He is dead.” Gregori barely glanced at the broken body.

“Be certain.” It was an order. Mikhail never ordered Gregori to do anything. That had never been their relationship.

For a moment Gregori’s silver eyes glittered as they stared at one another. “Please, Gregori, if there is a chance...” Mikhail closed his eyes.

Shaking his head at the delay, Gregori dutifully went to the priest’s crumpled body and felt for a pulse. He knew it was fruitless, knew Mikhail knew it, too, but just the same he checked. Gregori was careful to be gentle with the body. “I am sorry, Mikhail. He is gone.”

“I do not want him left in this place.”

“Stop talking and allow me to do my job,” Gregori growled, easing Mikhail back onto the floor. “Take my blood while I stop up these holes.”

“Find Raven.”

“Take my blood, Mikhail. The vampire will not harm her. He will have some patience this night. You must be strong for the hunt. Drink what I freely offer. I would not want to find it necessary to compel you.”

“You are becoming a nuisance, Gregori,” Mikhail complained, but obediently he took hold of the healer’s proffered wrist. Gregori’s blood was ancient, as was Mikhail’s. There was none other that could help as quickly. There was silence as Mikhail fed, replenishing what was lost. Gregori turned his wrist slightly to ease Mikhail away from him, knowing his strength was needed for healing and transporting his prince to safety.

“The priest goes with us,” Mikhail reiterated. A wave of heat coursed through the ice of his body, leaving him needy, hungry. His mind reached for his lifemate, the need to merge overwhelming.

Pain exploded in her head, in his, so that he gasped and withdrew, his black eyes seeking Gregori’s pale ones in agony. Sleep for now, Mikhail. We will go on the hunt soon enough. We must take care of these wounds first.Gregori commanded it in a mesmerizing voice. Singsong, a flowing chant of ancient language. You will hear my words, let Mother Earth welcome you. The soil will heal your wounds and soothe your mind. Sleep, Mikhail. My blood is powerful, mixing with yours. Feel it healing your body.Gregori closed his eyes, merging completely with Mikhail, flowing in him so that he could find every ragged hole, push out foreign objects, and repair all damage from the inside out with the precision of the most skilled surgeon.

A large horned owl circled the ruined building, then settled on the crumpled wall. Slowly the wings folded and the owl’s round eyes surveyed the scene below. The talons flexed, relaxed. Gregori lifted his head, coming back to his own body. He spoke the Carpathian’s name softly in acknowledgment. “Aidan.”

The owl’s shape lengthened, shimmered, formed a tall, tawny-haired man with glittering gold eyes. His blond appearance was unusual for a Carpathian. He carried his body like a soldier, his manner sure and confident. “Who dared to do this?” he demanded. “What of Jacques and Mikhail’s woman?”

Gregori growled softly, a slash of pale eyes pinning the male Carpathian. “Bring me fresh soil and prepare the priest’s body.” Gregori turned back to his work as Byron arrived. Slow, unhurried, the beautiful ancient chant filled the night with hope and promise. No one would believe he was working against time, needing to get Mikhail on his feet this night.

Aidan brought the richest soil he could find, stepping back to admire Gregori as he worked. The poultices were mixed carefully and applied over the external wounds. The wind stirred the dirt and dust from the pile of rocks, carrying warnings to the Carpathians. Two humans were approaching in a truck.

Byron knelt beside Edgar Hummer, reverently running his hands over the priest’s face, gathering the small, wasted body up into his arms. “I will take him to sacred ground, Gregori, and then destroy those bodies beside the cabin.”

“Who did this?” Aidan repeated.

Gregori simply flooded Aidan’s mind with the information rather than bothering with conversation.

“I have known Andre for many centuries,” Aidan said. “He is half a century younger than I. We fought together in more than one battle. Our times grow desperate.” Aidan glided over the fallen walls, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness. Each leaf on every tree gleamed a vivid silver, bathed in the light of the moon, but Aidan had long ago lost his ability to see in color. His world was dark and gray and would be until he found his lifemate, or sought the solace of the dawn. He inhaled, caught the scent of game, the stench of death, the intrusive odor of man. Oil and exhaust issuing from the approaching vehicle fouled the clarity of the air.

He moved through the line of oaks, working to quell the ice-cold predator instinct demanding blood for what one of his kind had done. Their race, so precarious, teetering on the brink of extinction, could not survive another vampire hunt. Every remaining male had pinned his hopes on the survival of Mikhail’s woman. If she could adapt to their life, if she could be sealed as a true lifemate, if she could produce female children strong enough to live beyond the first year, then all Carpathian males had a chance. It would be a matter of hanging on, searching the world for women such as Raven. For Andre to betray them all was treason as its worst.

Fog began to gather, thicken, an oppressive, nearly impenetrable veil that wound through the trees and closed off the road. The brakes squealed loudly as the driver came to a halt, unable to see in the thick fog. Aidan moved closer, unseen, a dangerous predator hunting prey. “How long before we get there, Uncle Gene?” A boy’s voice, eager and excited, drifted on the wind.

“We’ll have to wait for the fog to disperse, Donny.” The second voice was uneasy. “We get these unusual fog patterns often up here, and it isn’t a good idea to be out in them.”

“What’s my surprise? Can’t you tell me? You told Mom I’d have a birthday surprise I would never forget. I heard you talking.”

Aidan could see them now. The driver was a man nearing thirty, the boy, no more than fifteen. Aidan watched them, the urge to kill running in his veins, surging through his body. He felt power, in every nerve ending, reminding him he truly was alive.

The man was very nervous, peering into the fog on all sides of the truck, although he couldn’t see through the thick veil of white mist. For a moment he thought he saw eyes, hungry and glowing, almost gold. They were animal eyes—the eyes of a wolf—watching them from out of the night. It made his heart pound and his mouth go dry. He pulled the boy closer to him protectively. “Your Uncle James is keeping it for you.” He had to clear his throat twice before the words would come out. He knew they were in great danger, knew a predator was waiting to tear out their throats.

“Let’s just walk up to the hunting lodge, Uncle Gene. I can’t wait to try out my new rifle. Come on, it’s not that far,” the boy wheedled.

“Not in this fog, Donny. There are wolves in these woods. Other things. It’s best to wait until we can see clearly,” the man said firmly.

“We have guns,” the boy said sulkily. “Isn’t that why we brought them?”

“I said no. Guns don’t always make you safe, boy.”

Aidan crushed down the wild urges. The boy had not yet seen manhood. Whoever these mortals were, he would not kill unless his life or that of one of the others of his kind was threatened. He would not become a vampire, a betrayer of his people. It was becoming too easy to kill. A kind of seduction of power. The wind whipped up around him, swirled in a circle of leaves and twigs. Gregori settled beside him, Mikhail, pale and lifeless, cradled in his arms. “Let us leave this place, Aidan.”

“I could not kill them,” Aidan said quietly, no apology in his voice.

“If the older one is Eugene Slovensky, he will have much to occupy him this night. His brother lies dead beneath a pile of rocks, an exchange for Mikhail’s priest.”

“I did not dare kill them,” Aidan repeated, making it an admission.

“If it is Slovensky, he deserves to die, but I am grateful that you resisted the urge, knowing the danger to yourself. You have traveled far to hunt the undead for our people. It shows in the darkness of your soul.”

“I walk very close to the edge,” Aidan said quietly, without apology. “When Mikhail’s woman was injured so gravely, Mikhail’s fury was felt by every Carpathian in every land. The disturbance was unique, and I felt it was deserving of investigation. I returned to make certain his wisdom continues to benefit our people. It is my belief his woman is the hope for our future.”

“It is my belief also. Perhaps a new country would bring you relief. We have need of an experienced hunter in the United States.”

With the fog still thick, preventing penetration by the humans, Aidan turned his attention to the carefully constructed prison. With a lift of his hand, the earth shuddered and shook. The building was leveled, leaving only the stones marking the fresh grave.

Into the fog, Gregori rose with his burden, Aidan at his side. They raced across the dark sky to the caves, where the other Carpathian males arrived, one after another to aid in the healing of their prince.

Chapter Fifteen

The night air rushed over her body as Raven was carried through the sky toward some unknown destination. She was dizzy and weak, her mind finding it difficult to concentrate on any one thing. At first she made herself try to focus on whatever might be a landmark, so she could convey it back to Gregori. After a while she couldn’t remember why or even what she was doing. On some level, Raven knew it was the drug making her disoriented and sick. It seemed too much trouble to wonder where the vampire was taking her or what he would do to her when they arrived.

The moon was radiant, spilling silver light across the tree-tops, turning everything into a surreal dream. Things slipped in and out of her mind. Soft whispered words, a constant murmuring she couldn’t quite grasp. It seemed important, but Raven was too tired to unravel it all. Had her mind fragmented from chasing the last serial killer? She couldn’t remember what had happened to her. The wind felt good blowing over her body, cleansing her. She was cold, yet it didn’t seem to matter. Lights danced, colors swirled, the sky sparkled brilliantly above her head. Beneath them a large pool of water shone like crystal. It was all so beautiful, and yet her head ached abominably.

“I’m tired.” She found her voice, wanted to hear if she could speak. Perhaps she could wake herself up if she was in the midst of a dream.

The arms tightened fractionally. “I know. You will be home soon.”

She didn’t recognize the voice. Something in her rose up to rebel at the closeness. Her body didn’t like the feel of his against hers. Did she know him? It didn’t feel as if she did, yet he held her as if he had a right to her. There was something slipping in and out of her memory that she couldn’t quite catch. Every time she thought the pieces of the puzzle began to fit themselves together, pain sliced through her head so violently, she couldn’t hold the thought.

They were suddenly walking together, out under the stars, the trees swaying and dipping gently, his arm around her waist. Raven blinked in confusion. Had they always been walking? No one could fly; that was absurd. She was suddenly afraid. Had she lost her mind? She glanced up at the man walking beside her. Physically he was beyond merely handsome, his pale face sensually beautiful. But when he smiled down at her, his eyes were flat and cold, his teeth a flash of menace in his scarlet mouth that struck fear in her heart. Who was he? Why was she with him?

Raven shivered and tried to draw away from the man with a slight, subtle movement. She was weak, and without his support, she might have fallen. “You are cold, my dear. We will be home soon.”

His voice sent a ripple of terror through her; distaste was rolling in her stomach. There was a gloating taunt in his voice. For all his seeming solicitousness, Raven felt as if a giant snake was coiled around her, its cold, reptilian body and hypnotic eyes mesmerizing her. Her mind reached out, struggled to connect. He would come. Mikhail.She screamed in agony and fell to her knees, pressing her hands to her head, terrified to move, to think.

Cold hands grasped her arms, dragged her to her feet. “What is it, Raven? Come, tell me, so that I may help you.”

She despised his voice. It grated on her, sent shivers over her skin. There was power there, and a depraved, secret amusement, as if he knew exactly what was happening to her and enjoyed her suffering, her ignorance. As much as she loathed his touch, she could not stand on her own two feet and had to lean against his strong body.

“You need to feed,” he remarked almost casually, but she sensed a hidden excitement in that statement. Raven pressed a hand to her stomach. “I’m feeling sick.”

“That is because you hunger. I have prepared a special surprise for you, my dear. A banquet in your honor. The guests have been waiting impatiently for our return.”

Raven stopped walking and stared up at his cold, mocking eyes. “I don’t want to go with you.”

The eyes flattened, hardened. His smile was a parody, a soulless flash of fangs. She could see his receding gums, the lengthening incisors. He was not beautifully handsome, as she had first imagined, but foul and cruel-looking. “Raven, you have no other place to go.” Again he sounded slightly mocking, sickly solicitous.

Raven pulled her arm away from him and sat down abruptly when her legs buckled beneath her. “You are not...” The name eluded her with an explosive burst of pain. Blood beaded on her forehead and trickled down her face.

Deliberately, the vampire leaned down and ran his tongue coarsely along her cheek, following the path of her blood. “You are ill, my dear. You have to trust me to know what is best for you.”

Raven forced herself to remain calm, to push aside the cobwebs clogging her mind. She had special gifts. She had a brain. Those were two indisputable facts. She was certain she was in grave danger and she had no idea how she had gotten here with him, but she needed to think. She lifted her face to the moon so that it put blue lights in her long, ebony hair. “I’m very confused, I can’t even remember your name.”

She forced herself to look and feel apologetic to appease him if he was capable of reading her mind, and she was afraid he was. “What happened to me? I have a terrible headache.”

He offered his hand, his manner suddenly courtly, far more indulgent now that she was relying on him. “You hurt your head.” He drew her up, slipped his arm around her small waist. This time Raven forced herself to accept his touch without flinching.

“I’m sorry; I’m so confused. It makes me feel silly and afraid,” she confessed, her large blue eyes enormous, her mind innocent and blank.

“I am Andre, your true lifemate. Another stole you away from me. When I rescued you, you fell and hit your head.” His voice was singsong, hypnotic.

True lifemate. Mikhail.This time when the pain beat at her she accepted it, allowed it to wash over her. It stole her breath and pierced her skull. She was careful not to allow any hint of the agony to show on her face or to spill over in her mind. Calling on every ounce of discipline she possessed, Raven focused her mind. Mikhail? Where are you? Are you real? I’m afraid.There was a familiar path and she used it with ease, as if she had always done so.

Little one.The reply was faint, far away, but very real, something to cling to in a world of madness.

Who is with me? What is happening?She made herself lean on the tall man supporting her, kept her mind a jumble of confusion. She found it interesting that her mind allowed her to work on several different levels at once.

Andre is a vampire. He took you from me. I am coming for you.

Something was very wrong. It was all there, if she just reached for it. Raven believed that faraway voice, felt warmth and love enfold her in strong, protective arms. She knew that feeling, that voice. It wasn’t quite right. You’re hurt. How?

Mikhail replayed the recent events in his mind for her. Raven inhaled, feeling as if someone had hit her square in the stomach. Mikhail.

Gregori is turning into some kind of tyrant. I would not dare die.

Memory was flooding in and she was terrified. She made herself compartmentalize her thoughts. The vampire touched only the surface, read what she wanted him to read. She was the shivering, confused woman he expected her to be.

Mikhail’s wounds looked bad to her. He was in the cave, surrounded by others. Gregori was working on the injuries, and Raven was certain he would put Mikhail to ground and she would be left without a lifeline. Raven lifted her chin. The drug might have confused her momentarily, but she could do whatever she had to do. I can handle Andre. Do not worry about me.She used more bravado than she felt.

All at once she had to suppress a surge of relief. Memory, fractured as it had been, came back in full force under Mikhail’s soothing mind touch. Mikhail or Gregori or both would come for her, no matter what else was happening. Mikhail would plug up his wounds and crawl if that was what it took to get to her.

“You are very quiet.” Andre startled her.

“I’m trying to remember, but it makes my head ache.”

They were at the top of a plateau. For a moment she couldn’t make out the stone house built into the side of the mountain. It seemed to shimmer in the silver of the moon, one moment a mirage, then a distinct structure, then gone again. Raven blinked her eyes rapidly, taking in every detail, broadcasting to Mikhail. The trick was in not allowing the vampire to know she was thinking of Mikhail. It was Andre who punished her with pain when he knew her thoughts. Confused by the drug, she had been briefly under his power. Now she was simply sick and dizzy. And very, very frightened.

“Is this our home?” she asked innocently, leaning heavily into him.

“We will remain here long enough to dine, my dear.” There was that curious gloating she was coming to dislike intensely. “It is not safe to remain longer than that. The other might pursue us. You must feed in order to be strong enough to escape.”