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.
Chapter Twelve
Raven stood in the comparative shelter of the porch, her face turned up toward the sky, eyes closed. Tiny beads of perspiration dotted her forehead, and her fingers twisted together compulsively over her stomach. She was not with the others, rather somewhere out of her body and concentrating on attempting to find Byron’s location. Beside her stood her dark, intimidating husband, his mind obviously locked with hers. Mikhail was so like Jacques that Shea could not tear her gaze from him. As she moved onto the porch a step behind Jacques, she could clearly see that Mikhail was furious. He was seething with anger, violence swirling very close to the surface, yet his posture was purely protective. He had placed himself between Raven and the ferocity of the storm.
Gregori was as still as a statue, his face a blank mask, his silver eyes as empty as death, yet Shea gave him a wide berth. There was something dangerous in his utter stillness. Shea felt she had no way to sorting out the complexity of the Carpathian male’s nature. Gregori was watching Raven through narrowed, restless eyes, eyes that saw far too much. Suddenly he cursed, low and vicious, startling from someone of his stature and power. “She should not put herself at risk. She is with child.”
His eyes met Jacques’, silver lightning and black ice. Total understanding between the two men. Shea merged her mind with Jacques’ quickly to try to understand the hidden currents. Raven’s pregnancy, if she was pregnant, changed everything as far as the men were concerned. Shea could see no evidence of a child—Raven appeared as slim as ever—but she couldn’t believe the healer would be wrong. He seemed so infallible, so completely invincible. The child was everything, all-important to the men. It surprised, even shocked her, the way they regarded the pregnancy. It was a miracle to both of them. The baby was more important than any of their lives. Shea was confused. Despite Jacques’ fractured memories, his protective streak was extremely strong.
“He’s aware of his surroundings, but he can’t move. Even his mind is locked and still. He is paralyzed somehow.” Raven’s voice startled Shea, brought her back to the stormy weather and their rescue mission. Raven was clearly speaking of Byron. “He can’t move or call out, not even mentally. It is dark and damp, and he knows he will suffer greatly before they are done with him.” Raven swayed, her hands protectively covering her stomach.
The healer moved, a blur of speed, catching her arm and wrenching her out into the driving rain. Gregori snagged Mikhail’s shirt, too, and yanked him into the fury of the storm. “Break off now, Raven,” Gregori commanded. He shook her, shook Mikhail. “Let go of him now!”
Jacques leapt forward, grabbed his brother, and hit his face, once, twice. “Come back!” It was a hoarse cry.
Shea bit her lip, suddenly terrified. The couple seemed somehow bound, caught in the vampire’s trap with Byron. Gregori pulled Raven farther into the driving rain. Jacques pushed Mikhail after them. It was Mikhail who recovered first. He blinked at his brother, looked around him as if unaware where he was. Then, instinctively, he reached for Raven.
“Bring her back, Mikhail. Go after her. Guide her back. This is too dangerous for her. Even with my connection to her, she is trapped,” Gregori said. “We are dealing with more than just any vampire. This one is skilled in the black arts and the use of herbs and power stones. I know what he has done and how he is doing it.”
Mikhail pulled Raven tightly against him, his black eyes hard with mental strain. Raven blinked, looked around her, seemed surprised to find herself in the rain. Her hand went to her temple in a gesture of pain. “Stop staring at me. I feel like some kind of freak show.” She sounded hurt, hid her face on Mikhail’s chest.
His arms circled her, drew her into the shelter of his body, his head bent lovingly toward hers. It was such an intimate gesture, Shea had to turn away. To her dismay, she found the healer studying her. Shea moved closer to Jacques, unconsciously seeking protection from the scrutiny.
“You need nourishment.” The healer spoke gently.
“When I’m hungry, I’ll eat,” Shea told him haughtily. “You don’t need to worry about all of us. I know how to care for myself.”
The silvery eyes slashed through the lie. “Your hunger radiates from you, and your weakness could place all of us in jeopardy.” He turned his powerful stare on Raven.
Raven squirmed visibly. “Oh, shut up, Gregori,” she snapped, her blue eyes flashing fire at him. A faint smile curved his mouth, failing to light his eyes. “I did not speak.”
“You spoke volumes, and you know it.” Her chin went up belligerently. “Your male sense of superiority is enough to make a woman want to scream. Honestly, Gregori, all that cold logic makes a person crazy.” She allowed Mikhail to lead her onto the porch.
“Logic works, unlike emotional women,” Gregori returned unruffled. “Your first duty is to protect your child. Our first duty must be to protect you.” His silver gaze clearly censured Mikhail.