Chapter Eleven


The passage into the cave was so narrow, Shea had to hold her breath to squeeze through. It seemed to go on forever, the rough walls scraping her skin, the oppressive feelings of tons of rock over her head, surrounding her body, waiting to crush her. She couldn't look at Jacques, who had somehow made his large body thin and weird looking. Carpathians were capable of doing things she didn't want to think about. How had she gotten herself into this mess?

Sex. A good-looking intense man with black, hungry eyes, and she fell like a lovesick calf. Sex. It ruined many otherwise sane women.

I can read your thoughts.

Theamusement was soft and caressing, wrapping her up in strong arms.

I was perfectly sane and sensible until I met you. Now look at me. I'm crawling around inside a mountain.

Suddenly she stopped and held herself perfectly still.

I'm hearing something. Tell me you are not taking me into a cave full of bats. Say it right now, Jacques, or I'm out of here. I am not taking you into cave filled with bats.

Shea relaxed visibly. She was not squeamish about very many things, but bats were creatures that were on the earth to remain a safe distance away from her. Miles away. Bats were one of those things she could stare up at in the night sky and think how interesting and wonderful they were, as long as they stayed high above her and nowhere close. Her nose wrinkled. The sounds she was trying to ignore were getting louder. Her heart began to pound in alarm. The walls of the passageway were so narrow, she had no way to move fast. All at once she felt trapped, as if she was suffocating.

I'm going back, Jacques. I'm not a cave person.

She did her best to sound firm and matter-of-fact, not at all as if she were seconds from screaming her head off. She turned her head cautiously to keep from scraping her face on the jutting surfaces.

His fingers circled her wrist like a vise.

There must be no disturbance. If any creatures exit the cave or warn others of our existence here, we could be found. A piece of paper couldn't fit in here, certainly not a person. No one is going to look far us here. A vampire would know the moment bats flew from the cave. Bats can't fly out of here if there aren't any in here, now, can they?

Shewas sweetly reasonable.

Trust me, little red hair, it is only a short distance farther. You aren't going to make me sleep in the ground, are you? Because I won't do it, not even if there are ten vampires stalking us. Vampires cannot stand even the dawn, Shea. Killing his prey does something to the blood. The sun would fry him immediately. He might betray us to the human servants he is in league with if he marked the entrance to this cave. Or they might be watching for just such a sign as bats flying unexpectedly into the early sun. You're telling me there are bats in here.

He tugged at her wrist.

Stop being such a baby. I can control the bats, and they will serve to warn us of any danger.

Shea made a face but followed him. With every moment Jacques' abilities, his knowledge and power, seemed to be growing. He was confident almost to the point of arrogance. Sometimes it grated and made her want to throw something at him, but she was proud of his growing strength.

The passage began to widen and slowly move downward, as if they were going into the very bowels of the earth. Shea could feel sweat beading on her body and her lungs laboring. She concentrated on breathing, the only thing that would keep her sane.

Jacques realized she was trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in his. His mind pushed through her natural barrier and found her uneasiness, her ridiculous fear of bats and closed-in places. She was uneasy with the Carpathian ability to shape-shift. Even his thinness, as he moved through the cave, made her uncomfortable. Used to being in control of every situation, she was finding it hard to follow his lead so blindly.

I am sorry, little one. I am introducing you to things that seem so perfectly natural to me yet must be confusing and frightening to you.

Hisvoice was a soft caress, sending warmth curling through her body.

Just his voice could give her strength. She straightened her shoulders and followed him.

There's a bed in here somewhere, right?

She tried to inject some humor into the moment.

The passageway widened enough to allow Jacques to resume his true form. He immediately did so, hoping to alleviate Shea's distress. He also sought a comfortable topic for conversation. "What do you think of Raven?"

"I thought we had to be quiet." Shea was looking in every direction for bats.

"The bats know we are here, Shea, but there is no need to fear them. I will keep them away from you."

He spoke calmly as if it was an everyday occurrence to control the movements of bats. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck as much in reassurance as to prevent her from fleeing. His thumb caressed her satin skin, found her pounding pulse, and stroked gently, soothingly.

"Raven seems very nice, even if she's married to another wild man like you."

She probably has lousy taste, just like me.

She tacked the thought on deliberately.

"What does that mean?" He tried to sound indignant, to keep her talking, to help her sustain her sense of humor. Jacques appreciated her courage and her unfailing determination to keep up her end, no matter how difficult it was on her.

"It means she can't have much sense. That man is dangerous, Jacques, even if he is your brother. And the healer is positively scary."

"Did you think so?"

"Didn't you? He smiled and talked so gently and calmly, but did you ever look into his eyes? It's evident he feels no emotion whatsoever."

"He is one of the ancient ones. Gregori is the most feared of all Carpathians."

"Why is that?" Because Gregori was far too powerful, his voice alone able to make strong men, Carpathian males, do his bidding?

"He is the most knowledgeable in all the ancient and modern arts. He is the most lethal and the most relentless. He is the hunter of all vampires."

"And he's ancient enough and solitary enough to turn at any moment, right? Makes me feel really secure. And you forced me to drink his blood. That is going to take a long time to forgive." She stumbled, not realizing how tired she was.

A scream echoed up through the very soil, through the earth's crust. More felt than actually heard, it struck terror, a frozen, helpless grasp on nerve endings. The sound vibrated through their bodies, through their minds, and passed back into the earth itself. The rocks picked up the scream and echoed it back and forth.

Jacques went very still, only his icy black eyes moving restlessly. Shea clutched at him, horrified. That sound was of a creature in terrible need, in tremendous pain and suffering. Without conscious thought she sought outside herself, feeling for the source, trying to fix on the location.

"The betrayer," Jacques said in a venomous voice, a low sound of hatred and promised retaliation. "He has another victim in his hands."

"How? You are all so powerful, how can he trap any of your kind?" Shea tugged at his arm to bring his attention back to her. He seemed a stranger in that moment, a predator every bit as lethal as the wolf, as the vampire.

Jacques blinked rapidly, searched his mind for the answer. He had been trapped by a betrayer, hadn't he? How that had happened was locked somewhere in his damaged mind. Until he could find and repair the fragments, all of his kind were in danger.

Shea rubbed her hand down his arm. "This is not your fault. You didn't cause this to happen, Jacques."

"Did you recognize the voice?" His tone was completely devoid of expression.

"It sounded like an animal to me."

"It was Byron."

Shea felt as if he had knocked the breath from her body. "You can't be certain."

"It was Byron." He said it with absolute conviction. "He came to me to ask for friendship, and I refused him. Now the betrayer will turn him over to the human assassins."

"Why doesn't the vampire keep him for himself?" She was struggling to understand, her mind already formulating plans. She could not leave Byron or anyone else in the hands of butchers, murderers. She had lost a brother she never knew to these madmen. She had nearly lost Jacques. "If he hates all of you enough to want you tortured and killed, why doesn't he just do it himself?"

"The vampire must seek the earth before the sun rises. Unlike us, he cannot take even early sunlight. Dawn would bring his destruction. It limits his reach."

"So he was in the woods watching us, just as I feared, and must have followed Byron and somehow trapped him. And he has to turn Byron over to the humans before dawn. The humans must be close."

"Gregori said the very soil groaned under their boots."

"So this betrayer cannot help the humans as long as the sun is up."

"Absolutely not." He said it with conviction.

"But the dawn does not have such an effect on us. We can stand it, Jacques. If we move now, we can find them. All we have to do is get Byron back and hide him until around five or six this evening when we are strong again. We can do it, I know we can. There are only so many places he could be. We can stand the early-morning sun, and no one will be expecting us. The humans who have him can't come into this cave; they can't go into the earth. They have to have shelter somewhere. You know this area, and if you don't, the others do. Let's get Byron back. The vampire might get so angry he'll quit hiding, make a mistake, and the others can get him." She was tugging at his arm, trying to drag him back toward the entrance to the cave.

"I will not expose you to these men."

"Give it a rest, Jacques. I mean it. We're in this thing together. I hate to brag and put you at an obvious disadvantage, but I can take more of the sun than you."

His hand caressed the nape of her neck. "That doesn't mean I will allow you to be exposed to danger."

Shea burst out laughing. "Just being with you is dangerous, you idiot.

You're dangerous." She shook back her hair, her chin lifting a bit defiantly. "In any case, I can feel the vampire and you cannot. Neither, it seems, could Byron. Maybe the others won't be able to either. You need me."

Reluctantly Jacques was allowing her to pull him toward the cave entrance. "Why do I never win an argument with you? I cannot allow you to be in danger, yet we are walking into the dawn and facing brutal killers when we are at our lowest strength. In the afternoon, Shea, we will be completely vulnerable, at their mercy, at the mercy of the sun. Both of us will be."

"Then we'll just have to be in a safe place by then. Contact the others, Jacques, tell them what's going on."

"I think you just want to get out of this cave. You would rather face a vampire and human killers than a few little bats." He tugged at her wild mane of hair.

She flashed him a grin over her shoulder. "You've got that right. And don't you ever turn into a bat." She shuddered. "Or a rat."

"We could get kinky and see how bats and rats make love," he suggested in a whisper, warm breath against her neck.

"You are a sick man, Jacques. Very, very sick." The passage was narrowing again, taking her breath. At least Jacques was complying, even if he was grousing a bit.

Jacques separated his mind from his body, thought of Gregori, the way he moved, the way he felt when his essence moved through Jacques, healing mortal wounds from the inside out. He built the feeling and sent a mental call.

Hear me, healer. I have need that you hear me. Your trouble must be great that you reach out to those you do not trust.

The voice was startling clear in his head; the answer came so quickly that Jacques felt a surge of triumph. He was much stronger, so much more capable than he had been even the day before. Gregori had given him blood; it flowed in his veins, pumped through his heart, restored damaged muscle and tissue. He had forgotten how easily one could communicate.

Iheard Byron scream. The betrayer has taken him. He must turn him over to the humans before dawn. Dawn approaches now, Jacques.

Gregori sounded calm, undisturbed by even such news as this.

Then we must find him. Do any of you have the ability to track Byron? Has he exchanged blood with any of you? Only you made a pact with him. If he turned and was unable to seek the dawn himself he wanted you to hunt him, and vice versa. You did not want your brother or me to have the responsibility for your destruction. I cannot find the path for him.

Jacques could not keep the frustration and self-loathing out of his voice.

You are certain this scream was Byron's? Without a doubt. We had been talking together only minutes earlier. Shea became distressed, she said someone was watching us. I could detect no one, and Byron showed no uneasiness.

Jacques and Shea were moving through the narrowing rock passage upward toward the entrance. Jacques felt the normal restlessness of his kind at the approaching light.

We will do our best to seek him as long as we are able. Mikhail's woman can sometimes track those we cannot. She is very gifted. We will meet you at the cabin. Do you both have dark glasses and protective clothing? Shea does, and I can fashion mine easily enough. She is still too weak to attempt shape-shifting, and she will not go to ground. Nor will I.

Jacques heard the echo of Gregori's derision. Women were to be protected from their own foolish desire to be in the thick of conflict.

When you find your lifemate, healer, your own clear thinking perhaps will cloud,

Jacques defended himself.

The dawn was streaking across the sky, pressing through the clouds. Rain was still coming down in sheets, and winds were whistling fiercely through the trees below them. In the opening to the cave they were sheltered, but once they moved away from the cliff face, they would be hit with the full force of the elements.

Jacques leaned close to Shea's ear. "The storm will lessen the effects of the sun on us. I can feel the healer's touch in this squall."

"There is no sun. Will the vampire be able to be out in this?"

Jacques shook his head. "He cannot see the dawn, not even through the cover of clouds. We often use weather such as this to move in the early and late part of the day. It allows us to blend better with humans, and our eyes and skin take less punishment."

He felt her shiver and immediately swept her beneath his shoulder. The weather didn't bother him; any Carpathian could regulate body temperature easily. Shea had so much to learn, and she needed to overcome her aversion to feeding to gain her full strength. "The healer is right, you know. This is far too dangerous to allow you to do. I do not know what I was thinking."

"The healer can mind his own business." Shea sent Jacques a haughty, over-the-shoulder glare. "The healer may be an intelligent miracle-worker, but he does not know the first thing about women. Don't make the mistake of listening to him in that particular department. Even with your memory lost, you know far more than that idiot."

Jacques found himself laughing again. His mouth brushed the nape of her neck, sent a shiver rushing the length of her spine. "How easily you get around me." He couldn't help the surge of possessive triumph sweeping through him. Shea might admire the healer for his abilities, might even wish to learn from him, but his attitude definitely grated on her independent nature. Jacques found he was particularly fond of that independent streak in her.

"You're a mere man, what do you expect?" she asked straight-faced. "I, however, am a brilliant surgeon and a woman of many talents."

"The bats are beginning to get very nervous. I am not certain I can keep them from charging us," he teased wickedly.

An involuntary shiver ran through her, but she simply tugged at his hand, assuring herself he was close, and returned to the matter before them. "Think of where we can take Byron when we find him."

"The cabin is too dangerous. It will have to be a cave or the ground itself. We can turn him over to the healer and find a safe place to rest, perhaps make it back here."

"That thrills me, it truly does."

"Where did you learn to be so sarcastic?"

Jacques meant the question to be teasing, but a bitter smile curved her soft mouth, and her eyes reflected pain. "You learn fast to protect yourself when you're different, when you don't dare bring a classmate home because your mother forgets you exist, forgets the world exists. Sometimes she stood at the window for days, literally days. She wouldn't even acknowledge me." She stopped. "Could I be like her, Jacques? Because I'm with you, could I be like her?"

"Not in the same way," he answered as honestly as could. "Some things are so fragmented in my mind, I have to piece together information. I do know most lifemates choose to live or die together. But if a child was in need, the lifemate remaining would see to its well-being, emotionally as well as physically." He did not tell her of those children given to other couples to raise because the remaining lifemate could not face existence without the partner. They knew the child would be well looked after, well loved, because most Carpathian women miscarried or lost their newborns within the first year of life. "And I know you, Shea. No matter how difficult something is on you, you always see it through. You would not abandon our child the way your mother did you. Our child would be loved and guided every moment of its life. I know that absolutely."

She caught his arm, preventing him from stepping out into the rain. "Promise me, if we have a child together and something happens to me, you will stay and raise it yourself. Love it and guide it as someone should have me. Promise me, Jacques."

"A Carpathian child is protected and loved above all things. We do not mistreat children."

"That is not what I asked of you."

He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, unable to lie to her. He had been alone too long. He would never want to remain without her. "Lifemates happen to us only once, little red hair."

"Our child, Jacques. If it should happen, I don't want a stranger raising it."

"Sometimes, Shea, another couple, one hungering for a child, is a better choice than a remaining, grief-stricken lifemate."

Her swift indrawn breath, the slam of a mind block so strong it was frightening, made him realize this was no small matter to her. "Did it never occur to you people that the child might also be grieving? That a parent to comfort it and see it through such a time would be of more value. This need you have to choose death when there is a child or other family members left behind is selfish and morbid."

"You persist in judging us by human standards," he said gently. "You have no idea what our bond entails." His strong fingers laced through hers, and he turned her knuckles up to brush the warmth of his mouth along her soft skin. "Perhaps we should save this discussion for a more appropriate time, when we are safe and we know Byron is also."

Her eyes refused to meet his. "I'm sure you're right, Jacques." Tears burned, and Shea chose to attribute them to her sensitivity to the dawn, not to their conversation.

She followed Jacques down to the timberline without a murmur, carefully keeping a strong block up so that he could not read her mind. She could understand why he felt he would have to choose death should something happen to her. He had been too long alone and could not face life without his anchor. Maybe he was right; maybe he would be too dangerous to the world. But if she had to accept that, she knew that there could be no children in their future together. Eternity was a long time to live with such knowledge. But she could not bring a child into the world, given how Jacques felt. She would never take such a risk.

Shea bit her lip, stumbled a little in weariness. Automatically she grabbed at Jacques' waistband for support. For one moment she'd thought she had a chance at a normal life, perhaps not normal as others knew it, but with a family structure, a child and husband.

Do not, Shea. I do not have the time now to comfort you properly, to allay your fears. Leave this.

Startled that he had penetrated her block, she looked up at his face, so mesmerizing, so handsome and seductive, yet ravaged by torment no human could imagine. His eyes, unprotected by the dark glasses he held in his hand, moved over her face. She could see love there, and possession, a dark promise for all eternity.

His fingers brushed her chin, sending a dancing flame spiraling along her spine. His thumb touched her bottom lip, and a shiver of sexual awareness curled in the pit of her stomach.

You belong with me. Shea, two halves of the same whole. You are the light to my darkness. I may be twisted, even mad, but I know in my heart, in my very soul, that I cannot exist without you.

His mouth brushed her eyelids gently. "I am not easy to kill, red hair, and I do not surrender what is mine. Lying in torment these years has given me a strength of will not easily matched."

She rubbed her face along his side, wanting to burrow close for comfort. "We are so far apart, Jacques, in every way we think. It's easy to say in the heat of passion that everything will be fine, but living together may be extremely difficult. We're so different."

His arm circled her waist, urging her forward into the comparative shelter of the trees. Rain was slashing down, soaking them. Clouds, dark and massive, swirled above them. But he could feel the first pinpricks of the sun as it began to climb above the clouds. The early morning light always made him uneasy, always made him aware of his own terrible vulnerability. Replacing his dark glasses, he pushed forward with quick, long strides. If only she had taken nourishment from the healer, they could shape-shift and be at the cabin in an instant.

Jacques knew she had thought her mind block sufficient to keep him out, but he never was able to quite let go of her. Some part of him always dwelled in her mind, quiet, like a faint shadow, but there all the same. She had always dreamed of having a child, to give it the love she'd never had. Now she felt there was no hope of such a thing. The question of the child had been very important to her, but lifemates could not lie to one another, could not cheat on one another. He could only pray he would choose death instantly, without a qualm, without a doubt, if something happened to Shea. Otherwise he feared he would become the monster lurking inside him, so close to the surface, a monster the world of humans and Carpathians alike had never known. There was something very wrong with him, and only Shea stood between that something and the rest of the world.

There was no way for her to break their bond. He knew that with his every instinct, and it brought him a measure of com fort. The rage, always so close, so deadly, was leashed and under control for the time being. As long as Shea was with him.

But now he had to find Byron; he owed the Carpathian that much. The drive in him to do so was strong, almost overwhelming, as if some part of him, not his mind but something deep within him, remembered their shared friendship. He should have placed Shea in a trance and demanded that she sleep while he did this thing, but the truth was, he simply couldn't bear their separation, and he wanted her close, where he could protect her. And he wanted her happy.

Women!

Shea heard his disgruntled complaint clearly in her mind. A small smile tugged at the corners of her reluctant mouth. "Am I complicating your life, Jacques?" she asked sweetly, hopefully.

He stopped so abruptly that she was jerked to a halt. Jacques caught her wet hair in his fist and pulled her head back so that the rain ran along her soft skin like honey. "The truth is, Shea, you make me feel so much, I do not know if I can stand it sometimes." His mouth found hers almost blindly, desperately, feeding voraciously as if he might devour her, take her into his body forever.

Nothing can ever happen to you!

His hands were biting into her skin, his body taut with tension, his mind a whirling confusion of fear and determination and so much hunger.

Almost without thought Shea reacted instinctively, her slender arms circling his neck, her body soft and pliant against the aggression in his, her mind calm and loving, a warm, safe haven for his fragmented, tortured mind. She kissed him without reservation, pouring every ounce of love and support she could into her response. He lifted his head reluctantly and rested his forehead on hers.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Jacques. I think you're having anxiety attacks." She tousled his hair as if he were a small boy, gave him a teasing grin. "Do Carpathians have shrinks, too?"

He laughed softly, astonished that he could do so when he had been so terrified only moments earlier. "You are as disrespectful as a woman can get."

"I'm not just any woman, silly, I'm a doctor and terribly brilliant. Everyone says so."

"Do they now?" He held her tight against his hard frame, thinking to take her into his very body, his arms protectively sheltering her.

"Is this going to be too much for you, Jacques? Facing those horrible butchers again? Are you certain you can do this?"

He raised his head so that she couldn't see the wolfish smile that didn't reach his ice-black eyes. "I am looking forward to renewing our acquaintance."

Shea touched his mind with hers, found a grim satisfaction at the thought of a confrontation, but Jacques was too strong to allow her to see the rage and hatred welling up, threatening to spew forth violence and revenge. Shea was a healer, a gentle woman who could not conceive of an evil such as he had seen, such as he himself possessed. She took his hand, her fingers lacing tightly with his. She might not ever have a child, but she had Jacques. She wanted him far away from pain and torment, far from men or creatures who might try to destroy him again. She was very determined to see him safe.