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?”