He shook his head. “I doubt that happened. I sensed your brother’s power as he sensed mine the moment we were in proximity. It would not have escaped our notice if we had come close in Africa. More important, you and I, born lifemates, would have sensed each other’s presence in some way.” But he did find it interesting that he had been inexplicably drawn to Africa, and the leopards there, in his search for other Carpathians. Perhaps some trace of Desari had called to him even then.
“Tell me more about your people,” she said now.
“They are also your people. You have blood kin, Desari, still in existence. Your eldest brother is a great man among our people, very respected and equally feared. He is called Gregori, and Darius is much like him.” He grinned suddenly, transforming his harshly beautiful features to those of a mischievous boy. “They are
very
much alike. Gregori, the Dark One, is often used as a bogey man to keep the young children in line. The only other immortal as great as your blood kin is Mikhail.
Mikhail is the acknowledged Prince of our people, the one who has kept our race alive and hopeful these many centuries. Mikhail and Gregori are as close as brothers in their own strange way. Each is so powerful that no one would dare to challenge either of them for fear the other would retaliate.”
Desari nodded her head. “Like our family.”
Julian thought about that. “In a way, though few of the Carpathians left alive have family units such as this.”
“What of your family?” Desari asked innocently.
She saw him wince, and his golden gaze skittered away from hers. “I told you, I have a twin brother. Aidan. He resides in San Francisco. I have not spoken with him for many years, nor have I met his lifemate.”
Her eyebrows rose. There was something dark swirling close to the surface again. She sensed a deep pain in Julian and did not attempt to probe his thoughts in so sensitive an area. She chose her words carefully. “Were there harsh words between you?”
“There is blood between us, Desari. As your brother can track you, so it is that we can track one another.” Julian sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “The majority of our males refuse to share blood with one another for the simple reason that each male knows it is inevitable, without a lifemate, that he must choose to end his life or lose his soul for all eternity and become the vampire. It is much easier to track those you have shared blood with, particularly for a hunter.”
Desari took a deep breath. Julian had some terrible secret he wouldn’t share with her. “Have you shared your blood with others, Julian?” She asked.
Julian grinned at her, his white teeth gleaming. “You have only to search my mind for the answer,
cara mia.
”
He was tempting her, a blatant seduction to enter his mind and know him in the most intimate way. It bound them closer every time they merged. She could feel it, his mind becoming more familiar with each touch. Her mind craved the touch of his, the need growing inside her in the same way the need for sharing his body was growing. It was an ember smoldering, the flame spreading, a dark heat she knew she would be unable to resist. Yet somewhere in his mind, buried deep, was a shadow, too painful, that he refused to share.
Desari glanced away from him toward the thick forest. Freedom was so close. Julian wasn’t touching her, not even in her mind; he was simply standing there beside her. Tall. Muscular. Sinfully beautiful. With a pain in him buried so deep, he could only wonder if she could ever find it and eradicate it. His golden eyes blazed at her with hunger and need, drawing her to him. Her heart turned over, and she knew she was lost.
“I have shared blood on more than one occasion, little one, although, because I am a well-known hunter, my help has been often refused. Should the one receiving it turn, I could track him with ease to destroy him.” As he said the words aloud, he remembered anew, too, why few males with lifemates hunted the undead. To protect one’s lifemate, the hunter could very well hesitate to go into a vicious battle that might destroy him and lead his lifemate, in inconsolable pain, to destroy herself.
An ideal hunter was one with longevity, knowledge, skill, ruthlessness, and power. Such a one had little hope of finding his mate, so the loss of his own life was not something to be feared. With a lifemate, if the male hunter were to be killed, his lifemate would likely choose to greet the dawn. And their race could not survive the loss of even one of their women. Julian had heard of only one case where a lifemate survived without the other. The female died, and the male became vampire, wreaking havoc in the Carpathian mountains, striking at everyone he held responsible, going so far as to murder his own son and attempt to murder his daughter’s lifemate, knowing it would end her life as well, Desari put a gentle hand on his arm, finally touching his mind to find what thoughts had made him grow so still and distant. She saw the memory of Julian slowly approaching a handsome man. The man had haunted black eyes, eyes that had seen far too much. The eyes of a man who had been tortured beyond endurance. Brutally wounded, dripping precious blood, he had watched Julian’s approach with wary, dangerous eyes. She watched as Julian spoke softly, easily extending his arm to the man that he might live with the blood of an ancient flowing in his veins.
Jacques. Mikhail’s brother. Lifemate to one whose father had murdered her brother, betrayed their people to human assassins, tortured her husband, tried to kill her.
She caught that much before Julian wiped the memory from his mind and caught her chin with his strong fingers.
Her dark eyes immediately were held captive by his golden ones. “We will work this out to both our satisfactions, Desari,” he promised softly. “Come with me. You need to feed this night before we leave this place with the others. And I need to feel your body, touch you, know you are really mine and not someone I dreamed up in desperation.”
There was such an intensity to his need, everything else was swept from Desari’s mind. Heat sizzled and danced along her skin, arcing between them like white-hot lightning. Julian’s hand slid around the nape of her neck, nestling her to him as he began to walk her away from the campsite. With every step they took together, their bodies brushed against one another.
Desari felt the burning need, too. But she also felt an inner peace, a completeness. She loved the way his body moved, rippling with power like a sleek jungle cat. The feel of his arm, so sure and strong, made her feel delicate and feminine despite the fact that she knew she was equally powerful in her own right. At the nape of her neck his fingers moved every now and then as they walked into the forest, away from the sounds of the others. She could feel him rubbing strands of her hair between his thumb and fingers as if he could never quite get enough of the feel of it. Then his fingers dropped casually to her neck, her collarbone, to move over her skin, stroking gently, almost absently, yet each caress sent liquid fire pulsing through her body.
How had she ever been happy without him? Before him her body had never been restless and hungry as it was now. She had loved her life, her singing, yet now she thought always of him, his strange, solitary life, his loneliness, and his terrible aching need only she could fill. And he seemed to fill her life as nothing had before. She was changed for all time, just as she had feared, yet now, as he walked so quietly beside her, she had no fear whatsoever.
Even as they walked together in perfect harmony, breathing in the fresh mountain air, listening to the forest creatures, the creak of the swaying branches, and a rushing stream nearby, Julian could think of only one thing. Before he went out of his mind, he had to bend down and find Desari’s mouth with his. He wanted the taste of her lingering in his body for all time. He meant to be gentle with her—a caress, no more—but the moment he felt the softness of her perfect mouth, red-hot lava, molten and hungry, flared and consumed him. His muscles tightened to the point of pain. His arms, of their own accord, swept around her to pull her close. He imprinted his hard frame on her softer one, letting her feel his painful need, his body full and demanding, his mouth fastening on hers as if she were his very breath.