Mikhail growled low, his body trapped in the layers of fog, his instincts fully aroused. His lips drew back in a silent snarl, exposing fangs. A long slow hiss escaped again.
Accusations beat in his head with the force of Rudy’s anger. “I found my father’s proof. He’s gathered it for years. Everything! It’s all there. The list of your servants. You are evil, the head of the monster. Murderer! Unclean! You turned that beautiful woman into your perverted slave! She would have used me to add to your ranks.”
The madness of grief and rage blended with a fanatical desire for revenge. Rudy Romanov believed his father’s records and had come to kill the head vampire. Mikhail understood the danger; the very air was thick with it. He called to Raven, brushed her mind with his, a loving, gentle caress. Wake, my love. We are in danger.
Raven’s breath began, slow and even. With his warning filling her mind, she automatically scanned the chamber. Her body felt limp and lifeless, the need for sleep intensely strong. Her brain felt sluggish, uncomprehending.
Romanov is outside the walls.
She blinked, tried to clear the fog. Hans Romanov is dead.
His son lives. He is outside, and I can feel his rage and hatred. He is dangerous to us. The sun is up; we are weak. He cannot enter, but we cannot go out.
It took great concentration and a supreme effort to rub her face against the tangle of hair on his chest. She cleared her throat experimentally. “I can answer the door, see what he wants. I’ll tell him you’re at work. He’ll feel silly and leave us alone.”
He cradled her head against him. She was still thinking in human terms, unaware of the terrible price of immortality. You are still so groggy, you are not hearing him. He is in a dangerous state of mind.She had no idea of the price she had paid for loving him. The sun would destroy her should she ever find the strength to rise.
Raven curled against him like a cat, her need for sleep overwhelming.
Listen to me, little one. You must stay awake!The command was imperious. Mikhail’s arms surrounded her with the intensity of his love, his need to protect her.
Raven roused herself enough to scan her surroundings. The blackness of Rudy Romanov’s rage was like a living entity, demanding death. The force of it beat in her head. He ‘s crazy, Mikhail.She lifted a hand, a slow, difficult movement, tried to push at the heavy fall of hair. The air was so thick or she was so weak; the simple movement took intense concentration. Last night he was so sweet, grieving for his mother. Now he’s convinced we are his enemy. He’s an educated man, Mikhail. Did I put us in danger? Maybe I did or said something to make him suspicious.Raven’s mind was clouded with guilt.
His chin rubbed the top of her head. No, he found something among his father’s papers. He was not suspicious last night; he grieved. Something convinced him that his father’s accusations were well founded. He believes us to be vampire.
I don’t think anyone will believe him, even if he shows them the evidence he supposedly has. They’ll think he’s in shock.She feared for Rudy’s safety as much as for their own.
Mikhail’s fingers brushed her cheek tenderly. It was so like her to have compassion for a man whose entire being was bent on murdering them. Suddenly his body jerked hard against hers. The house flinched, screamed silently a split second before the first explosion reverberated in their ears. Above them, on the first floor, windows shattered; antique furniture splintered. A heartbeat, two heartbeats. Another explosion rocked the house, fragmenting the wall on the north side.
Mikhail’s fangs gleamed in the darkness; the hiss of his breath was a promise of merciless retaliation. The smell of smoke, acrid and rank, seeped through the ceiling into their bedchamber, where it swirled and gathered into a pungent, eye-burning cloud. Over their heads flames began to crackle and lick greedily at the books and paintings, at Mikhail’s past, at his present. Orange and red tongues eagerly consumed possessions that Mikhail had acquired in the long centuries of his existence. Rudy wanted to destroy it all, little knowing that Mikhail had many houses, many treasures.
Mikhail!She felt his anguish at the death of his favorite home burning above them. The putrid smell of hatred, fear, and smoke mixed.
We must go below. The house will eventually fall.In her mind the grimness he felt echoed sharply.
Raven attempted to drag herself into a sitting position, her movements painfully sluggish. We have to get out of the house. Going below will only trap us between the ground and the flames.
The sun is too high. We must go underground.His arms tightened perceptibly, as if he could give her the courage to face what had to be done. We have no choice.
You go, Mikhail,she said. Fear clawed at her. She was helpless in her present state. Even if she managed to move herself below to the cellar, she could never burrow into the soil, bury herself alive. She would be insane when the time came to return to the surface. She absolutely could not commit herself to such an act, but it was necessary to encourage Mikhail to do so. He was the important one, the one his people needed.
We go together, my love.He interjected strength into his voice, a strength his muscular body did not echo. His limbs were like lead. It took tremendous effort to drag himself off the bed, and his body landed heavily on the floor. Come on; we can do this.
The smoke was thicker now, the room beginning to heat like an oven. Overhead, the ceiling began to blacken ominously. The smoke hurt her eyes, stung enough to burn.
Raven!It was an imperious command.
She rolled off the bed, landing heavily enough to knock the wind out of her. It’sgoing up so fast.Alarm bells were shrieking in her head. There was so much smoke; the house was groaning above them.
Raven dragged herself, inch by slow inch, following Mikhail’s painfully sluggish movements across the floor. They could not even crawl; they were so weak, it was impossible to get on their hands and knees. They slid full length on their stomachs, using their arms to propel themselves forward until they were at the hidden entrance to the cellar. Raven would have done anything to get Mikhail to a safe sanctuary.
Heat sucked the air from the room so that their bodies were bathed in perspiration; their lungs labored and burned. Even with their combined strength, it seemed impossible to lift the trap door. Concentrate,Mikhail instructed. Do it with your will.
She blocked out everything: her fear, the smoke, the fire, Mikhail’s agony and rage at his burning home, the predatory beast rising in him. She narrowed her thoughts to the heavy door, focused, aimed. With infinite slowness it began to move, a groaning creak of wood and metal protesting movement but obeying reluctantly. Mikhail fed her power with his own. When the door lay open to them, revealing the yawning chasm below, they slumped exhausted against each other, clinging for a moment, their hearts laboring, their lungs burning with the clouds of smoke whirling around them.
Debris rained down from the roof to the ceiling above their heads. The fire roared like a giant monster, a stormy conflagration, loud and fearsome. Raven slipped her hand into Mikhail’s. He locked his fingers around hers. The roof went; the ceiling above us is going to go up fast.
You go, Mikhail; I’ll wait here as long as I can.The hole below was as terrifying as the fire itself.