Dark Possession

«I am grateful for your rules.»

There was a faint quirk to his mouth that only added to his allure. How could she explain she felt her self-respect and years of restraint were about to go flying out the window? If she was alone with him, she'd be doing her best to seduce him, or just plain beg for him to slam her up against the nearest wall and have his way with her.

She had never wanted a relationship with a man that was comfortable. She had wanted all-consuming passion or nothing at all. She'd settled for nothing at all. She had fantasized about a relationship with a man who could inspire hot erotic licks of electricity running up and down her spine, where she met him in a grocery store wearing absolutely nothing beneath a coat, or danced with him in a sensual haze at a party, his hands moving on her skin, knowing, needing, that they wouldn't make it home before they succumbed to their desire for each other. Now here it was, every fantasy she had ever dreamt of.

MaryAnn was fairly certain Manolito De La Cruz was the hottest man alive. He dripped sensuality. From every look and mannerism to the set of his shoulders, the thickness of his chest, the way his hips narrowed and the all-too-impressive bulge in the front or his jeans. His eyes were heavy-lidded and smoky with lust for her. While that stark hunger made her heart pound and her body go into serious meltdown, the truth was, in every single fantasy, the man had been wild about her, deeply in love. One without the other wasn't acceptable to her.

«If I go off alone with you again now, Manolito, I'm not certain I could live with myself afterward.»

«I will do nothing you cannot live with.»

From the sound of his voice, he hoped to do things she couldn't live without, and that was exactly what she feared. Because she so wanted those things. She wanted him to teach her all the things she dreamt about, she wanted to belong to him, to have him love her, show her that the things in her mind could be real, not just imagined.

«You are not letting me into your mind.»

Was there hurt in his voice? The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. «I don't know how to let you in or out of my mind. I honestly have no idea why you all think I'm psychic. Jasmine thought I saved her from the mage. The wind was horrendous; a branch broke off and fell on him. I didn't do that. How could I have?»

In a way she was very grateful he couldn't get into her mind. He would never get in if she had anything to do with it. All she needed was for him to read her fantasies and she would be in more trouble than she could imagine-and she had far too vivid an imagination when it came to sex.

Manolito's dark eyes drifted possessively over her face. «Come with me, MaryAnn. Let me show you my world.»

She shouldn't go. She was asking for trouble if she went. She sighed. Of course she was going with him. She was going because she'd lost her mind, because she could still taste him in her mouth and feel his hands on her body and she ached inside and out for him. «I'm bringing the pepper spray.»

His faint smile sent tiny, flickering flames of arousal licking over her breasts and down her belly, dancing along her inner thighs until she felt searing heat scorch her most feminine core. She let her breath out, feeling as if she'd just leapt off a cliff.

«I would expect nothing less than pepper spray,» he answered, his voice tinged with amusement.

That small note of humor, one she suspected was rare in him, just added to his allure. She lifted her gaze to his and was lost in the absolute focus and intensity she saw there-for her. Nothing-no one-existed for him but her in that moment.

With exquisite gentleness, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her slowly up against his body. His skin was hot and hard and smelled masculine. His midnight hair brushed across her face as he lifted her, sliding her body up his so that she felt the thickness and length of his erection pressed deep into her softer body. «Put your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. If you still fear flying, press your face into my neck so you cannot see. Trust me to take care of you, MaryAnn.»

There was a terribly intimate note in the velvet rasp of his voice husky and promising and altogether shocking, as if sin lived and breathed in him and reached to wrap her in nothing but passion. The double meaning sent a shiver of desire spiraling through her body. MaryAnn was all about control, and this man was all about taking it away. Her pulse followed the rhythm of his. Her heart hammered out the same beat. Temptation to taste the forbidden was so strong she let her hands bunch for a moment in his silky hair, absorbing the texture, feeling shaken inside.

She closed her eyes when her feet left the floor. He took her breath so easily, shaking her up until she forgot about being MaryAnn the counselor and became, wholly and completely, MaryAnn the woman. The hollow of his neck was warm and inviting, and she nuzzled his shirt aside so her face could rest against his skin. Her

lips moved against him, tasting him, because she could. Because when she did, a shudder of pleasure shook his strong body.

The night was surprisingly warm. As he whisked her through the forest, she could hear all sound cease, as animals, birds and insects became aware of their presence. A shiver went down her spine as she realized they were sensing a predator. It was impossible not to feel alive with him. He created energy, both sensual and exciting, most of all dangerous, and wrapped her in his voracious sexual appetite for her, his need for her elevating her own needs and desires.

For all of that, his looks and his sensuality, it wasn't her virtue in the most jeopardy, because he was a good man and her heart responded with the same passion as her body. The biggest risk was letting him into her heart. He gave of himself so quickly to others, without thought of consequences to himself, and no other trait in a man could appeal to her quite so much. He was starkly honest about everything, and that appealed to her as well. He showed her vulnerability when he told her about seeing and hearing things from another world. He let her inside of him without reservation.

And just like that you open your mind to me.

She felt warm, as if he'd enfolded her in a velvet wrap. «Did I?»

If she did, she hadn't thought about the danger of opening her mind. Only her heart. She kept her face buried in the hollow of his neck, feeling safe as they moved through the sky.

Look now, MaryAnn.

«I'm afraid of heights.»

She was afraid of loving what he showed her. Afraid of loving this man and changing her life-one she'd worked so hard for-forever. She just really enjoyed her little niche. She knew she helped others; she was good at it, and she liked her independence. And there was that very frightening thing inside of her, something that terrified her, one she kept locked away, but it was drawn to this man. In the city, surrounded by people and the hustle and bustle of life, it stayed quiet and under her control. Here, with this man, she could feel it stretching and reaching inside of her, anxious for freedom. And she didn't dare let it free.

His lips brushed the top of her head. You will not be afraid, I promise you. You will see my world the way I see it.

She closed her eyes briefly and pressed tighter into him. That was exactly what she feared. She didn't want to see beauty in the rain forest. She wanted to see the insects. Lots of nasty, biting insects. And leeches. They had leeches, she just knew it. When she looked, she'd dwell on that. It was the only way she could think of to stay safe. Armed with a picture of big, fat, blood-sucking bugs, she cautiously raised her head and looked around her.

They were in the canopy of a huge tree, vines tangling rapidly beneath them to form a solid deck. The vines continued to twist and climb, adding a solid railing so she could walk around in the treetops and feel as if she were on rooftops in her hometown. He slowly let her out of his arms, watching her turn her face to the sky.

MaryAnn caught her breath as she looked around her. Mist looked like diamonds falling across a midnight sky. Stars scattered and sparkled, tiny crystals glittering everywhere she looked. Up so high, she felt she might touch the moon. It wasn't close to being full, but it was a magical sight. She crossed to the railing, holding firmly with both hands, and looked beneath her. She saw treetops, leaves shining silver instead of green, branches forming highways for animals; the flutter of wings, the moonbeams catching the colors of

feathers as the birds settled in for the night. Tendrils of fog wound in and out of the tree trunks, adding to the mystery and beauty.

She turned back to him, resting against the railing as she drank in the sight of him. He belonged to the night. A lord or a prince. The strong bones gave his face a noble, masculine appearance, and that molded mouth held a hint of both sensuality as well as cruelty. Danger and passion. She pressed her hand to her stomach to quell the butterfly wings.

«It is beautiful, Manolito. Thank you for bringing me here.»

There was no smell of blood or death. No horror in the eyes of young women. There was only the night and Manolito.

She smiled at him. «I feel the mist, yet it isn't cold and my clothes aren't wet.»

«I am Carpathian. I can control such things.» He waved his hand, and the leaves began to tangle with flowers, forming a solid bed, thick and soft and inviting.

Her heart jumped in anticipation.

«Why do you wear your hair in such a tight braid? It's so beautiful, all the curls and waves and the color of it shining in the moonlight. Let it down.» His hand went to the fastener holding her hair in some semblance of control.

She caught his hands to stop him. «I have natural curl, Manolito. In this weather my hair would be huge and kinky, and with no stylist around, I'd be in serious trouble.»

«It's wild and beautiful.» His fingers were busy stripping the band from her hair.

«You don't understand. It's wild all right. I could use tons of products to hold it in place, but the mist would wash them right down my face and into my eyes and that would sting and streak and be a huge mess. So leave it.» She tried to sound tough, but it was impossible with the feel of his fingers tugging her hair out of the braid. She only succeeded in sounding breathless.

«I like the skirt. Thank you for remembering for me.»

She had put it on for him. She was giving too much of herself away, hut she wouldn't be less honest than he was being. The skirt and blouse were not only ultrafeminine, but made her feel sexy and desirable as well. She wanted to feel that way for him. She wanted him to see her that way.

«It's one of my favorites.» Was that her voice? She sounded more seductive than he did, and she didn't want that. She wanted to know him. She wanted a chance at-everything.

Her hair was out of the braid now, flowing around her face and shoulders. He reached under it to cup the back of her neck, his thumb sliding over her skin, as if savoring the feel of it. There was an unexpected tenderness in his touch. She could feel heat all the way down to her toes. It was suddenly difficult to breathe.

«Does your leg hurt?»

The memory of his mouth on her leg, the feel of his tongue rasping over her skin, sent another wave of arousal washing through her body. She shook her head, afraid to speak, when his thumb smoothed over her ear and teased a shiver down her spine.

«Come lie down with me, look at the stars while we talk.»

She wasn't certain she could speak when it came right down to it, not without babbling or, worse, pleading for his touch.

She sank rather gingerly onto the bed of leaves and flowers, trying to hold the image of leeches in her mind, but the flowers gave off a wonderful fragrance and the bed was as soft as the best mattress she'd ever lain on. Because she was afraid, she stayed in a sitting position.

Manolito caught her calf in his hands, drew down the zipper to her boot and pulled it off. «You may as well be comfortable, MaryAnn.»

There was a command in the firm touch of his fingers, but gentleness in his voice. She made no objection, just let him remove the boots and set them aside so she could draw her knees up. He sent her a faint, mocking smile and stretched out, fingers laced behind his head.

«I thought I'd be afraid up here,» she admitted, to break the silence. To find a safe subject.

«You are afraid.»

«This is an unusual situation.» She snuck a peek at him over her shoulder. He lay like an offering, casual and lazy and very deceptive when she could feel heat radiating off his body, when she could see the ripple of muscle and the bulge he didn't bother to hide. His features were stamped with raw desire, his eyes devouring her.

He brought one arm down to his side, the fingers curling against her thigh, rubbing back and forth through the thin royal blue silk. «I am your lifemate, MaryAnn, your husband. There is no need to fear the things I want from you. Like your hair and your skin and whatever dwells within you, what is between us is as natural as breathing.»

«I don't know you well enough to give you that kind of trust. A woman like me needs to trust a man completely to give herself to him like you're asking.»

«I do not ask.» There was a faint smile in his voice.

For a moment she thought he was saying he didn't want her, but then she realized he meant he would demand what he wanted from her. She rubbed her chin on the top of her knees, contemplating instructing him in human law.

The fingers along her thigh bunched in her skirt, continuing to slide up and down in mesmerizing strokes. «I am not human, sivamet, and more than anything else, I wish to bring pleasure to my woman. What is wrong with that?» He sounded genuinely puzzled.

«Maybe I don't want that.»

His laughter was low and sexy, playing over her body with the same mesmerizing stroke as his fingers. «But you do. It is what you fear most, but it is also what you want most. As I know you are sale in my keeping, there is no reason to deny you what you want-or need.»

«I'm afraid that may take some time.» His touch was light, but the heated silk against her skin made her muscles bunch in reaction.

«I do not think so, MaryAnn. When you lie beneath me, when my body is in yours, you trust me more than when we are apart.»

Color swept up her neck and into her face before she could control it. She couldn't deny it. She would have done anything he asked of her. She had and more. But it was too much, too soon. She moistened her dry lips with her tongue. «I'm not ready yet.»

«Fair enough.»

His answer was so unexpected she turned to look at him. It was a mistake. His black eyes glittered with possession, with raw lust.

He patted the mattress of flowers. «Lie down beside me. We'll talk.»

There was no hint of compulsion in his voice, at least she didn't think so, but she still found herself lying down beside him. Thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. She stared up at the sky and watched the mist sparkling above them and searched for a topic that would lead to a real discussion, one that might reveal more of who and what he was.

«Do you like living here?»

«I have grown to call this land home. I love everything about it. The rain forest, the cattle ranch, the people, even the horses. I was not the best of riders when we first began ranching.» He laughed softly at the memory. «I have not thought of that time in years. We knew nothing at all, but wanted to appear human. Fortunately, we had the Chavez family to aid us. We had the money and they had the knowledge. We have worked closely ever since.»

«I would have liked to see your first ride on a horse.»

«I did not spend a lot of time in the saddle. I wished to be macho like the Chavez brothers so I didn't use my mind to control the horse.»

She relaxed a little, laughter bubbling up. «I wish I'd been there.»

The pads of his fingers traced the shape of her thigh. «I am very glad you weren't. Unless you had controlled the animal for me.»

«That would have been interesting, and very tempting, although I have no idea why you think I have psychic ability.»

«Because you do.»

«If I do, how can I not be aware of it, yet everyone else is? What exactly do I do psychically?»

His fingers once again began that steady caressing through the silk of her skirt. «You are actually quite powerful. You gather energy and use it when you need it. I think you have been doing so all of your life, probably since you were a child, so it is normal to you. Completely natural. Like your hair.» His hand slid up to the intriguing curls. He tugged gently, just enough to bite at her scalp.

She felt the pull through her body, a flash of heat she couldn't deny or control. «I don't do that.» She didn't think she did. «How would I even use something I don't know about? How would it work?»

His hand slid from her hair down her arm to her wrist. He circled it lightly as if his fingers were a living bracelet. «If I knew that, palafertul, I would never be concerned about you knocking me on my rear.»

«I didn't.»

«You did.» He brought her hand to his mouth to scrape his teeth over her palm. «It was a good jolt, too. I was proud of you-once I got over the fact that my woman had slapped me down.» His tongue swirled over the exact center of her palm, easing the tiny sting of his nipping teeth.

«You're very oral, aren't you,» she said, tugging at her hand. He didn't let go, and the sensation of his mouth, hot and moist, closing tightly over her finger sent flames dancing across her skin straight to the junction between her legs.

«Very,» he admitted, his voice dropping low, his black gaze burning through the thin material of her blouse to her full breasts as they rose and fell with the fast tempo of her breathing.

She licked her lips again and stifled a groan when his gaze jumped to her mouth. «Stay on track here, Manolito. I really want to figure out how I could be psychic.» Because she was fast losing her ability to think with her brain.

«Of course you're psychic. You can read people, and you know exactly what to say to them to help them find their way.»

She laughed. «I was hoping for a real revelation, not fantasy. I went to school a very long time to become a counselor. Whether or not I'm any good has nothing to do with being psychic. I'm trained and I have a lot of experience.»

«You are able to get inside their heads. You think it is instinct, and maybe that is another word for your talent. You act a lot on intuition.» He turned her hand over and bit gently at her knuckles. «We could use a little instinct right now.»

«I don't think psychic ability is much good if you don't know how you're using it,» she protested. If she really did have some talent, it would be kind of cool, but not if she couldn't wield it properly. «I can connect with you because of the blood thing, but can't really do much else.»

«You do plenty well with your power. You throw people out of your mind at will. Very few people can do that, MaryAnn. It is a very intriguing ability.» His hand dropped to his side between them once again, fingers bunching in her skirt.

«Where does it come from?»

«Many sources. I think all societies had a few who possessed some ability to manipulate energy. Some species were stronger than others, but once they began to mix, over the years, you find both amazing talent and none at all.»

It made sense. She felt the caressing pads of his fingers as he bunched her skirt higher to expose the long expanse of skin along the leg closest to him. He remained lying beside her, staring up at the stars, but his hand slid under the silky material to move along her thigh and hip, shaping her curves.

Everything in her went still. Every muscle clenched in response to that light touch. «What are you doing?»

«Memorizing you. You have such soft skin. It is hard not to touch you.»

He wasn't trying that hard, not that she could see. She moistened her lips again and tried to concentrate on conversation. «Did you know the jaguar people when there were still quite a few of them?»

«The shifters, especially the jaguar and werewolves, were always secretive societies. They kept to themselves. We all had a live and let live' philosophy, so we didn't mix unless someone committed crimes in our territories. Karpatu, mage and humans were close. The others stayed away from us and from each other. The other shifters disappeared so fast they are barely a memory. It was obvious that if the society did not take care of its women and children, that it was impossible for that species to continue, but the jaguar refused to acknowledge or learn from the mistakes other species had made. They wanted to keep their animal instincts and live free.»

She was silent a long moment, watching the shimmering mist and the wheeling and dancing of bats as they hunted insects in the night sky. There was a kind of beauty and peace in the strange ballet they performed. Lying there, she could understand why some people preferred the rain forest to the city, especially if they were with a Carpathian who could keep insects and rain from ever touching them.

«Has it been difficult living through so many changes?» He must have seen so much. Learned so much. Suffered so much.

«Longevity is both a curse and a blessing. You see people you care about coming and going while you endlessly remain. War is the same. Poverty. Ambition and greed. But there are such wonders, MaryAnn, wonders worth all the rest.» He turned his head, his dark gaze liquid black in the moonlight. That was what she was to him. Wonder. A miracle. She had no idea. He caught glimpses of her thoughts when she opened her mind to him. She didn't understand how a man like him would ever look at her, let alone want to spend eternity with her. She hail no idea of her own appeal. The light in her shone like a beacon.

Everything about her appealed to him. She was courageous, yet didn't see herself that way. She had more compassion in her than any other person he had ever encountered. Often, at great risk to herself, she went to the aid of others. There was an innocence about her, yet her eyes were old. She'd seen life at its worst, but refused to give up hope.

«What are you looking for?» She tilted her chin a little at him.

«Acceptance.» He didn't think to hide himself from her. One never did, not from one's lifemate. He needed that from her. That she could see him, all of him. He wanted to stand before her with all his flaws and know that she could still accept who he was. It had never mattered before. Now acceptance was everything.

He rubbed the pad of his fingers along her glowing skin. Nothing had ever felt so soft and inviting. It seemed a miracle-another wonder in life-to be able to touch her like he was. To lie beside her with the stars above them and talk quietly together.

«Tell me your worst trait.»

His teeth flashed white in the moonlight. «I think we should start with something good.»

«If we go with the worst, then we get it out of the way fast. We know what it is and whether we can handle it. I'm stubborn. Not just a little bit, either. I'm really stubborn. I don't like being pushed around.»

«I am always right.»

Her soft laughter teased at his groin like caressing fingers. He had forgotten, or maybe he had just never experienced, perfect enjoyment like being with a woman who could arouse him the way she did. He could

listen to that laugh for all time and never get tired of it.

«So you think.»

«So I know.»

«And you expect everyone to do what you say because you're right.»

«Of course.»

She wrapped his hair around her finger. «Since we're telling secrets, does it bother you to be called Manolito instead of Manuel? I know that 'little man' is often used for boys instead of men in some countries.»

«It is a term of affection to my brothers. I do not care, and have never cared, what others think, only that those I love accept me. Does it bother you?»

«Manolito in other countries is a more commonly used name, with nothing else attached to it. I grew up thinking it was a great name with a beautiful sound to it. It's nice to know your brothers tease you with affection.»

Shadows moved in the depths of his eyes. «Nicolas and Zacarias have not found their lifemates. They only have the memory of emotion and it is more difficult to maintain with every passing night.»

«I'm sorry, Manolito.» She could feel his worry.

«They will endure because they must.» His hand brushed down her face. «Tell me what's wrong, MaryAnn. I can see how upset you are.»

She hesitated, pressed her lips together, then sighed. «Whatever is inside of me scares the hell out of me.»

Overhead, the branches swayed with more than birds. She could see small, furry bodies gathering for the night in the trees. Most congregated to one side of the tree, just across from her, while a few of the monkeys settled in branches on Manolito's side.

«You cannot be anything but who you are, ainaak enyem. Never be afraid of what is inside of you. I'm not.»

Her eyes met his. «You should be.»

Chapter Thirteen

^

3&j

3|j

Manolito felt the sudden tension in her. He touched her chin with gentle fingers. «Why would I ever fear what is inside of you? I can see your light shining so bright, there is never a need to fear any part of you.»

She ducked her head so that the mass of curly hair fell around her face. «Maybe you don't see me as well as

you think you do.»

«Then tell me.»

«I don't know what to tell you. How to tell you. I can't see it. I only feel it, and it scares me to death.»

He was silent a moment, trying to find a way to help her confide in him. She wanted to. It wasn't that she intentionally was hiding anything, but she was struggling to come to terms with something she knew or suspected and she wasn't quite ready.

«Tell me about your childhood,» Manolito said, his dark gaze holding hers, his voice gentle.

She looked uncomfortable, shifting slightly away from him. «I had a normal childhood. You'd think it was boring, but I enjoyed it. My parents are great. Mom's a doctor, and Dad owns a little bakery shop. I grew up working there and earned most of my money for college. No brothers or sisters, so it was a little lonely, but I had a lot of friends in school.»

His gaze drifted over her face, noting her eyes, the pulse beating so frantically in her throat. «There were things that happened. Unexplained things. Tell me about those.»

Her heart began to thunder in her ears. She felt her breath catch in her lungs. She didn't want to think of those moments, and yes, there had been plenty, incidents there was no explanation for. MaryAnn pulled away so her body didn't touch his, just in case he could read her. She felt a shift inside of her, something moving and nudging at her almost in inquiry. Do you need me? What is it?

She gasped, bit down hard on her lip and tried to thrust the truth back into that deep abyss where she never had to face it. Out here in the rain forest, where everything was wild and it was kill or be killed and she faced enemies unknown in her safe world, she could no longer contain that other being unfolding inside of her.

Manolito remained still, not moving a muscle, sensing her sudden withdrawal, not only from him, but from something that had been close enough for her to see. She had slammed that impenetrable barrier between them again to keep him from seeing it. The moment she withdrew her mind from his, he was aware of that other world he still dwelled in.

The colors around him dimmed significantly and the noise of the rain forest disappeared until silence surrounded him. Strangely, his sense of smell was even more acute, as was his hearing. He not only could detect the position of animals and birds around them, but he also knew exact locations. He didn't need to reach with his mind to find those surrounding him; his nose and ears gave him the information. The longer he dwelled in the shadow land, the more heightened all His senses became-well, almost all of them. His vision seemed different, familiar in the way of when he shifted to animal form, but still, he caught movement instantly. He just didn't like the graying in the color, as it reminded him too much of the centuries of darkness.

He curled his fingers around hers and held tight. He had been vaguely aware of the land of mists creeping into his mind and vision since he had sent Luiz to ground, but it had been distant, as if he had made his way closer to the world where MaryAnn lived. Now, without her mind merging with his, everywhere he looked the gray was consuming color.

Manolito squeezed her hand in reassurance, although he wasn't altogether certain who was reassuring who. «You are safe here with me. Whatever it is you fear, share it with me. Burdens are much less when shared.»

He was aware of every detail about her in that moment, and she was very much afraid. He heard her heart,

saw the frantic beat of her pulse. She had insisted on standing by him, refusing to leave him alone in the meadow of mists, even when she was unsure of him. He wanted her to know he would do no less.

She shook her head even as she began to speak, obviously not wanting to remember the incident, or speak of it aloud, yet almost compelled to share, needing at least someone to know she wasn't crazy. «There was one time when I was in high school that I went out for track. My parents really wanted me to play sports, but I had no interest. I'm a girlie girl, always have been, but my dad thought if I got involved in sports I'd be less inclined to follow the latest fashion trends.»

He stayed silent, watching the shadows chase across her face, waiting for her to make up her mind to tell him the entire story, not the watered-down version.

«I showed up for practice and took off running. At first all I could think about was how I was going to fall on my face, or trip and humiliate myself. But then I forgot myself and how uncomfortable it was running and I felt… free.» She let her breath out, obviously remembering the feeling. «I wasn't aware of what I was doing at all, but I outdistanced everyone and ran without thought. I didn't feel pain at all, only a type of euphoria.»

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingertips. «Don't stop, sivamet. What else did you feel? Obviously this made an impression on you.»

«At first it was wonderful, but then I began to notice things.» She pulled her hand away, as if she couldn't bare her soul while touching him. «My bones began to hurt, my joints cracked and popped. Even my knuckles ached.» She rubbed them, clearly remembering the feeling. «My jaw throbbed, and I had the sensation of stretching thinner and thinner. I could hear tendons and ligaments snapping. I ran so fast, everything around me was a blur. My vision changed, my hearing and sense of smell were so acute, I could tell where every single runner was behind me. Exactly where they were, without looking. I could hear their breathing, the air rushing in and out of their lungs. I could smell their sweat, and hear their hearts beating.»

How could she explain to him what had happened that day? How she felt something changing and growing and reaching to get out of her, to be acknowledged and recognized. It wanted out. She moistened her lips and clung tighter to his hand.

«I was different in that moment, completely different, yet the same. I could leap over obstacles without even slowing down. Every sense was alive in me. My body was-singing, as if it had come alive for the first time. I can't even explain how it felt, every sense so open and gathering information. And then things began to pour into my mind, visions I couldn't stop or make sense of.»

He brought her hand to his chest in an effort to comfort her. She didn't seem to realize she was becoming agitated and that her state of mind was affecting the monkeys in the surrounding trees. Wings displaced air overhead as birds stood on branches and beat them, squawking and chirping anxiously. He slid the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand and felt hard knots under her skin as her tension mounted. «What did you see?» Whatever it was had terrified her.

«A man calling to a woman, telling her to take the baby and run. The baby was-me. I was lying in a crib, and she wrapped me in a blanket, kissed the man and clung to him. I could hear voices and saw dancing lights outside the windows. The man kissed me, too, and then her one last time and jerked open a trapdoor in the floor. I felt dread and fear. I didn't want to leave him and neither did she. I think we all knew it was the last time we'd see each other.»

She licked her dry lips. «The infant was surrounded by forest while I was running the track, hearing my heart, my footfalls, smelling the others, and I remember stars bursting around me. But they weren't really around me at the school; the lights were flashing around the woman and me, the infant in the forest. I could hear something whistle as it went past us, and then the woman flinched, stumbling. The next thing, I was running

on the track, yet at the same time the woman was running through the trees with me-the baby.»

«Was the woman your mother?»

«No!» MaryAnn nearly shouted more denial, but caught herself, breathing hard, trying to push down the shock of what that would imply. «No, I don't know who she was, but she wasn't my mother.»

He reached out and tugged until she lay against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. «Do not be upset, sivamet.» His voice was soft, that mesmerizing sweep of velvet whispering over her skin. «Be calm, It is a beautiful night and we are simply talking, getting to know one another. I am very interested in this dual run you had. Do you think it really happened? How old do you think you were when this flight through the forest took place? And where were you? The United States'? Europe? What language was spoken?»

MaryAnn sucked in her breath and lay very still, absorbing his warmth and strength. She could feel it flowing over and into her, as if Manolito was sharing himself and who and what he was with her. He didn't probe her mind, but he sent her complete understanding and acceptance. He was accepting something in her that she couldn't seem to accept in herself.

«Not English. I don't know. I was afraid. Very afraid.» And every single time she entered a forest, that fear nearly choked her. «They wanted to kill us. I knew that, even as an infant. Whoever was torching the house wanted all of us dead, even me.»

She was barely able to breathe, her chest tight, her heart pounding.

«The woman ran and ran, but I knew something was wrong with her. Her rhythm was off and her breath came in great gasps. We both knew the exact moment the man who had stayed behind in the house was killed. I heard her silent scream, and it echoed mine. Sorrow consumed her and then me, almost as if we shared the same emotions. I knew she was desperate to get through the forest to a neighbor's house. The place was usually empty, but they were there, on vacation.»

A shudder went through her and Manolito gathered her closer. Her skin was ice cold, and he turned, fitting his body around hers. «You do not have to tell me any more, MaryAnn, not if it is too painful.» Because he was fairly certain he knew the rest of the story. He wanted her to trust him enough to give him the details, but her distress level was rising, and with it, he noted with interest, the animals in the surrounding trees grew even more agitated.

MaryAnn had never told anyone, and she wanted to tell him. The constriction in her chest had grown; the feeling of being drawn inside was terrifying, almost as if the very essence of her was being sucked into a small, dark place, to be held in tight confines. She wanted to throw out her arms and kick her legs to prove to herself she was still in her own body and not tucked inside a box.

«I tried to tell my mother, and she told me it was a dream-a nightmare that perhaps I'd remembered as I ran. She didn't want me to go running anymore and neither did I. I never did it again. And I never went into a forest after that.» It had taken all of her courage to come here to this place to help Solange and Jasmine, to find Manolito and try to get him out of wherever his mind had locked him. Her courage was waning, and she wanted the comfort of home.

«Because it triggered the memory?»

«The feeling of terror and being unable to breathe. The fear of being locked away and unable to get out.» MaryAnn moistened her dry lips, her hand creeping up to his neck, fingers curling around his nape. She needed to feel the strength of his larger frame, the heat of his body and the steady beat of his heart.

Manolito remained silent, simply holding her while she stared up at the stars and ignored the animals surrounding them. Surprisingly, she felt no threat from them, only a kind of kinship, a rush of sympathy and concern toward her. She took a breath and let it out. She was going to tell him all of that memory because she was absolutely certain it had occurred, and it was the only real way she could face it.

«The woman clawed her way through the brush. We were being chased and she was sobbing. I knew she was hurt, but she clung to me, forcing herself to cover the miles until we came up to a house, a vacation home for a lady and her husband who had been friends with the woman carrying me. The lady came out. I remember her face, frightened, concerned, shocked when she saw blood everywhere. The woman handed me to her and told her they were trying to kill us, that they would kill me. She pleaded with the woman to save me.»

She had to stop because her throat constricted again and there was that terrible tightness in her chest that came more and more often. She buried her face against him, a shudder going through her body.

«MaryAnn.» He stroked a hand down her hair, rubbed circles of comfort along her back. «Did you recognize the lady? The neighbor? Was she familiar to you?»

She didn't know. How could she know? Her heart pounded wildly and her breath came in ragged gasps. The admission burst out of her without her consent, without her permission, the declaration shocking her. «She was my grandmother.» She choked, gasped for breath, her fingernails biting deep into his skin. «The neighbor, who took me, was-is-my grandmother.»

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, protectively, one hand shaping the back of her head, fingers moving in her hair gently as he massaged her nape to soothe her. He hadn't expected the feelings– the emotions-that assailed him. He was shaken by the sheer intensity of sensation coursing not through his body, but through his heart and mind. He murmured softly to her in a mixture of Carpathian and Portuguese languages as she wept in his arms.

She felt small and lost to him, and far too vulnerable. MaryAnn was a woman of confidence, not this soft bundle so shattered curling in his arms, burrowing into him and not even aware she did so. Her distress was so great that waves of it burst over him and spread throughout the rain forest, disturbing all the creatures.

«How could they do that to me?»

He waited. She still kept that barrier firmly in place, not allowing him access to her mind-to her pain-or even to memories. And he suspected she had more.

«My parents should have told me. That woman… I know her. I feel her here,» MaryAnn pressed a trembling hand to her heart. «I ache thinking of her. She sacrificed her life to save me, just as the man did.»

«Most parents would willingly sacrifice their lives for their children, MaryAnn. There is no greater love.» He kept his voice gentle, hypnotic, although he was careful to keep from pushing or adding a compulsion. He kept her wrapped in warmth and safety in the only way he could, outwardly, when his every inclination was to push forward, to soothe and make everything all right for her. It was difficult to suppress his instincts to take her over. She was not a woman to be taken over.

Manolito nuzzled the top of her head with his chin and then brushed dozens of small kisses into her hair. A mixture of emotions poured from her. Grief. Anger. Feelings of betrayal. Guilt for thinking even for a moment anyone else might have given birth to her.

«I love my parents. We're a normal family.»

She opened her mind again to him, and images of her childhood leapt into his brain. She was attempting to prove to him, and to herself, that her memories of growing up within her family were true and real, and everything else was simply an illusion, or a bad nightmare. He could see her parents holding and kissing her, swinging her into the air, laughing and happy with her. She had been surrounded by happiness and love her entire life.

«They love me.»

There was satisfaction in her voice, but she was clutching his hand and her nails bit deep into his flesh. He looked down at their joined fingers and could see the hard knots beneath her skin, the curve of her nails, thick and strong, one not covered in polish.

«It is obvious they love you,» he agreed and brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth, pressing his lips to the knots, smoothing them, gently tugging with his teeth until the nail piercing his skin was lifted and she relaxed a little more.

«I don't know what I'm supposed to think,» she said, sounding vulnerable and lost.

His heart reached for hers instinctively. «No matter what your past was, MaryAnn, you are still you. Your parents loved you and raised you surrounded in that love. If they are not your birth parents, it does not in any way change that fact.»

«You know there's more to it than that.» She jerked her hand out of his and sat up, facing away from him, toward the treetops. She could see the highway in the canopy, the branches touching, serving as a long strip from tree to tree where even the larger animals could travel quickly.

She swallowed the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. «My whole life has been built on a lie, Manolito. I don't have the history my parents have given me. I don't have the stability of all the structure I thought I had. I don't know who I am. Or what I am. Growing up, I sometimes had flashes of memories, and each time, my parents explained it away as inconsequential, when really, it was very important.»

«Maybe they had reasons, sivamet. Do not judge them harshly when you do not yet have all the facts.»

«It isn't happening to you. Your entire life isn't being ripped apart.» She flashed him one smoldering look over her shoulder and turned away again. «And then you come along and add to it all by claiming me, by binding us together in a ritual I don't have a choice in. And now I'm becoming something else. How do you think you would feel if it was happening to you?»

«I don't know, but is becoming a Carpathian so terrible?» He swept a hand through his hair, wishing he had his entire memory back. «You will be able to do so many things that you cannot do now. You will see, in time, that there is no reason to worry.» Her life as his lifemate would be perfect. He would make it perfect. «It seems unreasonable to be upset over something you cannot change.»

His voice was so calm it set her teeth on edge. He spoke as if they were having a philosophical discussion, not contemplating irreversible and dramatic changes to her life. Fury burned through her. «Reasonable? I shouldn't worry about being forced out of my own body? You're taking me over, telling me what I have to do, and I should just go along with it because you say so. How nice for you to live in your comfortable skin and know who and what you are. Claiming me doesn't change your life at all, does it?»

«It changes everything.» His voice was gentle with emotion-emotion he could feel because she'd given him that gift.

He didn't understand the enormity of what he had done by binding them together. He didn't seem to even understand how her life would be affected. She would have to watch her family die. She would no longer be the person she'd always been. Even the chemistry of her body would be different. Everything about her would change, and she had no choice in the matter. Manolito would remain the man he'd always been, only he would have color and emotion restored to him. He might think it would all come right in time, but the change wasn't happening to him.

Adrenaline pumped through her body and with it-fury. How could someone else arbitrarily decide her life for her without her consent? Without asking her? Manolito. Her parents. Even her beloved grandparents. How could they just decide what was best for her and not only leave her out of the decisions, but even withhold knowledge?

She leapt up before Manolito had an inkling she was going to move. There was no slight movement of her body to indicate a shift. She simply moved all at once, leaping to her feet and over the railing before he knew what she intended. Heart in his throat, he leapt after her. They were one hundred and fifty feet in the air. The fall would kill her.

MaryAnn! He called her name even as he pursued, sending air to keep her floating as he streaked downward, but she was already on the ground, crouched low in a fighter's stance.

He slowed his descent to study her. Her hair was thick, long and wavy, gleaming a blue black as it cascaded down her shoulders and back. Her hands curled into claws, and the amazing bone structure in her face stood out beneath her taut skin. She backed away from him as he settled in front of her.

«I want to go home.»

He knew she was in good hands-his hands-yet her voice trembled and she looked so frightened he felt terrible.

«I know you do, MaryAnn. I will get you back to your home as soon as I can.» And he realized it was true. For the first time, he realized she might need Seattle. She might need that cold, rainy city just as much as he needed the rain forest. «I promise, csitri, when I can fully leave the land of shadows, I will escort you home.»

MaryAnn drew a deep, shuddering breath. «You promise?»

«Absolutely. I give you my word, and I have never broken it in all my centuries of existence.» He held out his hand to her. «I am sorry I cannot understand what you are going through.» If she opened her mind to his, he could feel her emotions, not just visibly see them, but she held tight to her resistance.

MaryAnn looked around her. «I don't know how I got here.» She looked up at the top of the canopy. She couldn't even see the deck he had constructed. «How did I do that, Manolito?»

He kept his hand extended to her. The leaves were rustling around them. Shadows moved. He took a step closer to her. MaryAnn put her hand in his, and he pulled her into his arms and took to the air, taking them to the protection of the deck he'd woven. She stood on the platform, her arms around his neck, her face buried against his shoulder, trembling with the truth.

«The truth,» he murmured softly.

MaryAnn jerked away from him. She knew it was the truth. She had been that infant someone had hunted through a forest and nearly killed. Her parents had hidden the truth from her for years. The foundation of her solid world was shaken, and she needed to find a way to quiet the growing thing inside of her so she could

come to terms with what was happening, but she didn't want Manolito to throw the truth of her life in her face.

Manolito looked around at the various leaves. Some broad, some lacy, some small and others large, all a dull silver instead of gleaming as they should. The safeguards were in place, keeping out all enemies so he could spend time with her, trying to ease her into his world. He had intended to bring her fully over so she, too, was wholly Karpatu. Instead, he had forced her to bare her soul to his, to risk everything for him. Now he needed to give something back. Something of equal value. She had given him truth; he could do no less.

He paced restlessly across the small confines of space. «You gave me truth, MaryAnn, when it cost you. I have something to tell you. Something that shames me, and not just me, my entire family. What is inside you is noble and strong, and I doubt you need fear it. I have no such secret to share with you, although I wish it were so.»

She blinked away tears and looked at him, somewhat shocked. Me appeared nervous. It was the last thing she expected of a man as confident as Manolito. Her natural compassion rushed through her, and she put her hand on his arm, flooding him with warmth and encouragement.

«Do not aid me in this,» he protested, shaking his head, but once again she had opened her mind to his, surrounding him with the brilliant colors and her soothing personality. «I do not deserve it.»

He didn't deserve to be so smug about claiming her, but she pushed that sudden thought down and gave him a look of support. Manolito continued to pace, so she sank down onto the flowers, surprised that once again they released their fragrance, filling the air with soothing scent. Drawing up her knees, she wrapped her arms around them and rested her chin on top, waiting for him to continue.

Manolito took a slow, careful look around and wove more safeguards, this time enclosing them within a sound barrier to give them even more privacy. «Sometimes the forest has ears.»

She nodded, not interrupting, but somewhere in the pit of her stomach she was beginning to believe that what he was going to tell her was of monumental importance to both of them.

Manolito rested his elbows on the railing and looked down at the forest floor beneath them. «My family was always a little different from most of the other warriors around us. For one thing, most families never have children within fifty to a hundred years of one another. Of course it happens, but rarely. My parents had all five of us with no more than fifteen years separating us, other than Zacarias. He's nearly a hundred years older, but we were raised together.»

She could instantly see the problems that might go along with such closeness, particularly young boys feeling the first taste of power. «You had a gang mentality.»

There was a small silence while he absorbed that. «I suppose that could be so. We were above average in intelligence and we all knew it; we heard it enough times from our father as well as the other men. We were fast and learned quickly, and we heard that, too, as well as it being drilled into us what our duty was to be.»

MaryAnn frowned. She'd never thought about Manolito or his brothers being children, growing up in uncertain times. «Even then, were more males being born than females?»

He nodded. '"The prince was concerned and we all knew it. So many children died. The women were beginning to have to go above-ground to give birth, and some children could not tolerate the ground in infancy; others could. Changes were happening, and the tension grew. We were trained as warriors but given as much schooling as possible in all the other arts. Resentment began to grow in us when others, not quite as

intelligent, were given chances at higher learning while we had to hone our fighting skills on the battlefield.»

«Do you believe, looking back, that you had reason for that resentment?» she asked.

He shrugged, his powerful shoulders rolling, the muscles in his back rippling. «Maybe. Yes. At the time we did. Now, as a warrior and seeing what has happened to our people, certainly the prince needed us to fight. The vampires were growing in numbers, and to protect our species as well as the others, our fighting skills were needed perhaps more than our brains.»

He sighed as he looked down from the treetops. «When we first came here, you have to remember, there were few, almost no, people at all. We were alone, only occasionally pitting our skills against an enemy. Five of us with our emotions growing dim and the memory of our people and our homeland fading along with the colors around us. We thought that was bad. And then we began to face more and more old friends who had turned. Our lives as we had known them as Carpathians were long gone.»

MaryAnn's teeth bit at her lower lip. «Did your prince give you a choice to leave the Carpathian Mountains? Or did he just send you?»

«We were given a choice. All warriors were told of what was to come and how we were needed. We could have stayed, but honor would never have allowed that. Our family was considered as having among the best fighting skills.»

«But you could have,» she said, persisting. «Your fighting skills must have been needed there as well.»

«Considering what happened, yes,» Manolito agreed.

For the first time he tasted bitterness on his tongue. They had agreed to go when the prince had put out the call to his oldest warriors, thinking, believing, the prince knew the future, knew what was best for his people. When the ranks thinned and their enemies moved in. the prince had aligned himself with humans. All had been lost when they had tried to protect their human allies.

Centuries later, now, when he could once again feel, he was still angry over that decision, still disagreeing and not understanding how Vlad could have made such a mistake. Had sentiment overruled reason? If so, no De La Cruz would ever make such a mistake.

«You're angry,» she said, feeling the waves of his antagonism washing over her.

He turned around to lean his hip against the railing. «Yes. I had no idea I was angry with him, but yes, I am. After hundreds of years, I still blame the prince for going into a battle they couldn't win.»

«You know that wasn't what decimated your people,» she pointed out as gently as possible. «You said yourself, as young as you were, growing up, you noticed the lack of women, and babies weren't surviving then. The changes were already happening.»

«No one wants to think their species is slated by nature, or by God, tor extinction.»

«Is that what you think?»

«I do not know what I think, only what I would have done. And I would not have taken our people into that battle.»

«How would the outcome have been any different?»

» Vlad would still be alive,» Manolito said. «He would not be among the fallen. We would not be left adrift with so few women and children the sheer odds make it impossible to keep our people alive. Add to that our enemies, and we are lost.»

«If you believe that, why did you save Mikhail's life? I heard about it, of course. Everyone was talking about what you did for him in the caves when he was attacked. If you don't believe he's capable of leading the Carpathian people, why risk your life for his? Why die for him? Especially if you had already seen me and knew you had a lifemate. Why would you bother?»

He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her from his superior height, a frown on his face. «It is my duty.»

«Manolito, that is ridiculous. You aren't a man to blindly follow someone you don't believe in. You may have questioned your prince's decision, but you believed in him, and you must believe in his son or you would never have gone into battle with him, pledged your allegiance to him or given your life for his.»

«I did much more than question my prince's decisions,» he said.

She watched the shifting of shadows across his face, the flicker of torment in the depths of his eyes. Now they were getting somewhere. Now he was going to reveal his deepest guilt. She knew what he was going to say before he said it, because his mind was deeply merged with hers and she could see the guilt there, the fear that he had betrayed a prince he admired, deeply respected and even loved.

He didn't see it that way, and that fascinated her. He didn't realize how much he admired Vlad Dubrinsky and how upset he had been at the prince's ultimate defeat and death at the hands of their enemy. More importantly, he didn't realize that his anger was at himself, for going, for choosing to fight in a remote land for people who cared nothing for the Carpathians.

«I betrayed Vlad every time I sat down with my brothers and questioned his judgments and decisions. Riordan and I told you some of it earlier, but it was a very watered-down version of our talks. We made an art of it. Picking apart the prince's every command and examining it from every angle. We believed he should listen to us, that we knew more than he did.»

«You were young, not yet grown and still able to feel emotion.» She knew that much because his emotions then had been very strong. He had felt superior, both physically and intellectually, to many of the other fighters. His brothers had all been the same, and they enjoyed their debates on how best to serve their countrymen, how best in steer the Carpathian people through the perils of each new century. «Was it betrayal, Manolito, in your hearts and minds, when you debated, or was it merely trying to discuss ways to better the lives of your people?»

«It may have started that way.» He pushed both hands through his hair. «I know we clearly saw the fate of our people when few others could see the future. We did not need to have precognition, only our brains, and it was irritating that others could not see what we saw.»

«Did the prince listen? You must have gone to him.»

«As head of our family, Zacarias did. Of course he listened. Vlad listened to everyone. He led us, but he always allowed the warriors to speak in counsel. We may have been young, but he respected us.»

MaryAnn watched the raw emotions chase across his face. Manolito faced vampires and mages with poisoned knives stoically, his features stone, yet now he was upset, his past too close to the surface. She wanted him to understand that the boyhood memory wasn't one of betrayal. She sought the right words, the

right feelings…

Do not! The command was sharp and pushed at the walls of her mind. «I do not deserve the warmth you send to me. Nor do I deserve the feelings you are trying to plant in my memories.»

She blinked at him, shocked that he would think she would try to plant anything in anyone's mind.

«We came up with a plan, MaryAnn. In our arrogance and superiority, in our belief that we knew more than any other, we came up with a plan to not only destroy the Dubrinsky family, but all enemies of the Carpathian people. The Carpathians would rule all species. And the plan was not only brilliant and possible, but it is being used against our prince as we speak.»

His voice broke on the last word, and he hung his head in shame.

Chapter Fourteen

w

^r w

MaryAnn took several breaths, unable to see into his mind. She didn't know if she had pulled away or if he had, but she could only stare at him in disbelief. Manolito De La Cruz was loyal to Mikhail Dubrinsky. She had seen his heroism. She could see the scar on his throat where he had nearly been killed. It took a great deal to kill a Carpathian, but someone had managed to do so while he had been protecting the prince. She would not believe even for one moment that he was involved in a plot to destroy the Dubrinsky family.

«I don't understand your thinking, Manolito. My friends and I talk politics all day and we often don't agree with our government, but that doesn't mean we are traitors to our country or people.»

Enclosed as she was inside the bubble preventing sound from escaping, MaryAnn couldn't hear the birds or insects. The silence seemed deafening. His misery was overwhelming. It was strange that she couldn't read his mind, yet she could feel his emotions, so strong and deep. The shame. The anger. The guilt. Even a sense of betrayal.

«Tell me.» She made it a command this time. If she was his lifemate as he claimed, then he needed to share this with her. It was eating him alive, and she began to realize, as she watched him stare down at his hands in a kind of wonder, that at that moment, he was more in the realm of the other world than with her.

She caught his hand and tugged until he sank beside her on the cushion of flowers. «Manolito. This is destroying you. You have to resolve it.»

«How does one resolve betrayal?»

She tightened her fingers around his. «Did you set out to make a plan to overthrow your prince?»

«No!» His denial was instant and strong.

And the truth. She could hear the ring of honesty in his voice.

«Not my brothers and certainly not me. We were just talking, complaining perhaps, debating certainly. But that was all.» He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples as if they were aching. «I honestly do not know how we began to flesh out the details. I do not know how or why an actual plan to overthrow our prince began, but later, when we were angry, we spoke of it for real.»

Ever since his brother Rafael had killed Kirja Malinov, he had tried to remember. All of his brothers had tried to remember. At first they sat quietly around a campfire debating the pros and cons of all decisions Vlad had made. «There was only one other family with children as close together as ours: the Malinovs. When our mother gave birth, so did theirs. We grew up together, my brothers and the Malinovs. We played together as children, fought together as men. The bond between our families was so close. We were different from other Carpathians. All of us. Maybe because we had been born close together. Most Carpathian children are born at least fifty years apart. Perhaps there is a reason for that.»

«Different in what way?»

He shook his head. «Darker. Faster. Stronger. The ability to learn to kill came too fast, long before we were out of our normal childhood. We were rebellious.» He sighed and leaned over to rub his chin in the wealth of her hair, needing the feeling of closeness. «The Malinov brothers were lucky. There was a beautiful female child born to their family about fifty years after Maxim-the youngest boy-was born. Unfortunately, their mother did not survive long after the birth and their father followed her into the next world. The ten of us became her parents.»

She felt the sorrow in him, sorrow that hadn't dimmed through the centuries in spite of the intervening years when he could no longer feel emotion. It was still there, eating at him, tightening his chest, roiling in his gut, choking him until he could barely breathe with it. She saw a child, tall, gleaming black hair, straight and thick, flowing like water down to a small waist. Huge, bright eyes, emeralds shining from a sweet face. A mouth made for laughter, nobility in every line of her body.

«Ivory,» Manolito whispered her name. «She was as much ours as theirs. She was bright and happy and caught on to everything so fast. She could fight like a warrior, yet use her brain. There wasn't a student that could outthink her.»

«What happened to her?» Because that, after all, was what had led up to the bitterness she often sensed in Manolito's mixed emotions toward his prince.

«She wanted to go to the school of mages. She was certainly qualified. She was bright enough and could weave magic that few could break. But we, all of us, her brothers and my brothers, didn't allow her to go unescorted anywhere. She was a young woman and chafed under ten brothers telling her what to do. It didn't matter to us; we wanted to see her safe. We should have seen her safe. She was the beauty that we were fighting for, striving to protect. Her laughter was so contagious that even the hunters who'd long ago lost their emotions had to smile when she was around.»

He pressed her hand to his heart so hard she could feel it pounding in her palm. «We forbade her to go to the school and study with the mages until we could go with her and see to her protection. Everyone knew our wishes and should never have interfered. But, while we were away at a battle, she took her plea to the prince.»

A shudder went through his body. He actually rocked his frame just once for comfort, but MaryAnn felt it and knew that the bite of sorrow was deeper than most would have conceived. Time certainly hadn't healed the wound. She wondered if the loss of emotion all those years kept the pain fresh, so that when the males could feel again, even past emotions were enhanced and vividly alive to them.

«The prince had no right to usurp our authority, but he did. Even knowing we had forbidden it, he told her

she could go.» His voice trailed off to a whisper, and he pressed her hand harder against his chest, as if to ease the terrible ache there.

«Why would he do that?»

«We believed that his oldest son, one we do not name, was already showing signs of illness. The Dubrinsky line holds the capacity for vast power, but with that comes the need for a vaster power to control it. Madness reigns if discipline does not. Vlad's eldest son had been looking at Ivory, though he was not her lifemate. We would have slain him had he touched her. The tension was becoming palpable every time he returned to our village. I myself pulled my blade on two occasions when he had cornered her near the market. It was strictly forbidden to touch a woman who was not your lifemate, yet there was no question it was in his mind to do so, given the opportunity.»

«I thought Carpathian men didn't ever look at women other than their lifemates.»

«When they are young, some do, and there is an illness in others, a need for power over the opposite sex, that taints them. It is a type of madness that often takes the very powerful. Our species is not without its anomalies, MaryAnn.»

«Why wasn't he stopped?»

«I do not think many wanted to believe a son of the prince could have the sickness in his veins, but we knew it. Zacarias, my oldest brother, and Ruslan, the eldest Malinov, went to Vlad and told him of the danger to Ivory. The prince sent his son away, and there was peace for some time. Vlad's son was returning, and when Ivory asked tor permission to attend the school, it was an easy way for Vlad to get rid of an immediate problem. He thought, without her there, his son would be okay.»

He ran his hand through his hair. «In truth, he knew better. Vlad should have come to terms with his son's illness and given the order to kill him. Without Ivory there, he had more time to study the matter and perhaps find a different resolution.»

«So he allowed her to go.»

«Yes. He sent her away without one of us to protect her. He neglected to send word to us, either, because he knew we would return at once.»

She shifted, circling her arms around him to hold him close. «What happened?»

For one moment he dropped his head onto her shoulder, nuzzling his face against the warmth of her skin. He was cold and couldn't seem to get warm. With a small sigh of resignation, he forced his head up, forced himself to look her in the eye. «You are my lifemate. Destiny decreed what is between us. I am many things, MaryAnn, and know myself well. I will not let you go. You will have to learn to live with my sins, and I owe it to you to tell you the worst of it.»

She kept her gaze fixed on his, reading more sorrow than betrayal. His love for Ivory had been strong, as had, she suspected, the others' in both families. With so few women, such strong, protective males would have felt it was their duty and pleasure to protect and serve that one small child. To fail must have been intolerable.

«When word came that a vampire had attacked and killed her, we were all devastated. Worse, we were in a killing rage. Ruslan and Zacarias for the first time were not the cool heads they always had been. They wanted to slay the prince. We all did. We blamed him for countermanding our orders and ultimately causing Ivory's death.» Manolito slowly shook his head. «We could not find her body to even try retrieval from the

shadow world, although any and all of us would have gladly followed her to make the attempt.»

MaryAnn's heart jumped. The shadow world, land of mists, the place where the Carpathians went after death. Where Manolito still partially dwelled. «How can you follow someone to such a place?»

His gaze flickered. «Rumor was, only the greatest warriors or healers attempt such a feat, or a loved one-a lifemate-but any of us would have gladly gone. And obviously it can be done. Gregori did it and then you.»

She hadn't realized what she was doing when she'd stepped into that other world. At times she still didn't want to believe it was real. «I didn't know what I was doing.»

«Apparently it is dangerous to one who is not yet dead.»

She sent him a small, reluctant smile. «Maybe it was a good thing I didn't know that. But none of you could follow her path, because you didn't have her body.»

«If the spirit leaves the body, the body must be guarded until the spirit returns and enters it; otherwise our enemies can trap us in the other world for all time.» He shrugged his shoulders. «Suffice it to say, only the dead go there. The reason must be great for a living person to attempt it.»

«That's what Gregori and your brothers did, then. They followed you into the land of mists and shadows and brought your spirit back,» MaryAnn reiterated, wanting to understand. He was still partially there. If that was so, she had to find a way to bring him wholly into their world again. This was far beyond her realm of expertise.

«Yes, but we did not have that chance with Ivory. She was lost to us for all time, and we seriously began to question Vlad Dubrinsky's judgment. He had no right to interfere in family matters. It made no sense to us. If his son was mad and he did nothing, was it possible the madness was in him as well? The more we'd discussed what he'd done, the stronger our anger became. We began to think of ways to end his rule. One step led to the next. We realized the other species who were allied with us might fight with Dubrinsky to keep him as ruler, and the Carpathian people would be divided, so we figured out how to get rid of everyone else. The jaguar-men never stayed with their women. The women already were mating with humans and choosing to stay in that form. It wouldn't be difficult to turn the remaining women against their men and to capitalize on the brutality of the animal form.»

«Which is what eventually happened.»

He nodded. «Worse, MaryAnn, there is no hope of saving the jaguar race. Even if ten couples survived, it is too few to save them.»

«Evolution may have played a larger part than you think. Because you spoke of a plan, one, by the way, you reasoned out intellectually by observing what was already happening, doesn't mean you had the responsibility of the destruction of the species. You aren't a god.»

«No, but we did nothing to aid the jaguar in seeing their own destruction. We left them alone, and while we did, the Malinov brothers implemented the plan and helped to push the jaguars to their own extinction. If they have done that, what other parts of the plan have they begun?»

MaryAnn waited, watching the shadows chase across his face, watching him flex his fingers as though they were aching. There was a new note in his voice, the soft rumble of a growl, every bit as sexy as his hypnotic velvet voice, maybe more so. The notes played over her skin, making her feel edgy.

«The humans fear Carpathians because they fear vampires; The legends had to come from somewhere. Whispers and rumors of killings and the loathing and fear grew until the Carpathians were no longer allies of humans. We are now hunted and killed. And with the werewolf, the one ally that we knew had the power to stop us, it would be easy enough to do the same thing, to drive a wedge between the species, divide and conquer. The werewolves were elusive anyway, and driving them underground or secretly stamping them out by arranging killings would slowly dwindle their ranks as well. Eventually someone would have to step into the seat of power to clean up the mess.»

MaryAnn drew back, her breath coming in a ragged gasp. «You didn't do those things, did you?» The masculine scent of him was in her lungs, surrounding her with every breath she drew. Maybe it was the sound barrier he'd erected, but she couldn't stop the thrill his essence into her body, or the way her muscles clenched and her blood sang just being near him.

She wanted to react with the objectivity of a counselor. It was second nature to her, but something else, something wild, was building so that she watched the rise and fall of his chest, the tiny shift in his expression the crinkle of the lines around his eyes, the shape of his molded mouth and wanted-no, needed-to offer comfort without words.

«No, of course we didn't. We knew what we were doing was wrong. When the grief subsided and we could see reason, we knew it wasn't Vlad's fault any more than it was ours that she was dead. We stopped talking about it and threw ourselves into the hunt for the undead. We became fiends, so much so that all of us lost our emotions much faster than we should have. We made a pact to protect each other, to share what we could of our memories of affection and honor, and we have done so. When our prince put out the call to go to other lands, we answered. The Malinovs did the same. We were sent here, to South America, and they were sent to Asia.»

She leaned in close to inhale more of him, all the while lending him soothing warmth and trying to suppress the rising tide of need. What was so different about him? His confession of wrongdoing? Had that made her more sympathetic to him? Or the fact that he still mourned that lost little «sister»?

She had been angry with him for thrusting her into his life without her consent, for removing her choices, and for not understanding the enormity of what he had done, but she couldn't help the strength of her emotion for him in trying to understand. For trusting her with his greatest shame. And she knew that was what he had gifted her with.

When he reached out to push a strand of hair from her face, his fingers brushing across her sensitive skin, she shivered.

«The Malinov brothers came to us before we left and wanted to talk.» His voice roughened, and the sound scraped over raw nerve endings, a seduction she hadn't thought possible. He bent his head, pushing her hair from her shoulder, and his tongue touched her pulse. «They wanted us to renounce the prince.»

Tiny flames danced along her neck and throat, edging down toward her breasts. Her nipples peaked beneath the thin top, and her body felt soft and pliable and so achy she burrowed closer to him. «But you didn't.» She was positive. She knew he respected Vlad Dubrinsky in spite of the terrible tragedy.

«No, we did not. We could not.» His voice held absolute conviction. «And at that time, neither did the Malinovs. They swore allegiance to him.»

And she loved him for that. For knowing right from wrong. For having such strong loyalties even when he loved the Malinov brothers so much. They had been his family, yet he had known, all of his brothers had known, that to turn on the prince was to turn on their people.

«No, of course you wouldn't.» She ran her hand up and down his arm, feeling the definition of his muscles beneath her palm. So hard. She closed her eyes, briefly wanting to feel him skin-to-skin. She wanted to seduce him, to take him into her body and fill the emptiness she felt inside of him.

His eyes came alive with such stormy turbulence that her heart jumped. The dark black irises glowed amber –almost gold, taking her breath away. That wildness in her, that place she never wanted to acknowledge, leapt forward in recognition, and she leaned close before she could think, before she could stop herself, brushing his mouth with hers, breathing for him, taking the adrenaline into her own body. Taking his need. Taking his desires. Taking him.

He kissed her back, his tongue sliding into the silken heat of her mouth. Every nerve ending leapt to life. Whatever anger he still held toward his prince, toward himself or even toward the Malinovs slid away, leaving his blood pounding for her.

His arms went around her, and he pulled her even closer, body to body, his mouth on hers, his pulse thundering in her ears. They were merged, mind to mind, and she felt the sudden shift in him, the way every cell recognized her, wanted her, needed her. His teeth tugged at her lip, nipped and teased and demanded. Heat flared, driving away the cold of his skin, pushing out the shadows and sorrow of old memories until there was only this-the ultimate feeling. Sheer bliss.

«I want to feel your skin against mine,» he whispered. His hand was already sliding up her leg, along her calf, up her thigh, inside where she ached and craved and needed him. Where she offered him a refuge and haven. His knuckles moved in small circles against her damp core while his mouth ravaged hers.

Around him, the world dropped away. Both worlds. Shadows receded until there was only the bed of flowers and the fragrance and scent of man and woman calling to each other. He brought both hands up to hold her in his arms, hold her against him, one hand cupping the back of her head as he lowered her to the cradling vines. He wasn't wild this time, didn't want to be. He took great care, slow and easy, wanting to taste every inch of her, wanting to take them both on a silken journey of pure sensation.

She reached up to push back his fall of silky hair, so long and luxurious, thick, thicker even than she remembered. His hair had been beautiful, but now, maybe because every sensation seemed so much more to her, his hair seemed longer, a thick pelt she wanted to stroke and caress and bury her face in. More than anything, she wanted to comfort him, make him feel whole and alive and so much better.

Her hand shaped the nape of his neck and she lifted her mouth to his. His kiss matched the lazy, slow movement of his hands as they slid beneath her top to cup her breasts. His thumbs teased and flicked, with that same languorous pace, creating pinpoints of flame that radiated from her breasts to her belly to melt into a pool of molten liquid between her legs. Her body was instantly slick and hot and already eager for his.

She loved his mouth. The feel and shape of it. The way it was so hot and commanding. No matter how gentle he began, within moments his mouth took over hers, drugging her with kisses, sending flames spinning into a vortex of need. His hands slid over her skin, leaving her writhing for more, so gentle, so patient, that it shocked her when he suddenly tore her blouse open, sending buttons scattering everywhere, lowered his head and covered her breast with his hot, greedy mouth.

She arched into him, cradling his head, stroking his hair, whispering encouragement, asking for more.

Manolito lifted his head to look down at her. She was so beautiful, offering herself up to him to make the past all better. If anyone could do it, she could. He was aroused beyond anything he'd ever thought possible. Whether she knew it or not, she was in his mind, heightening his needs, showing him her eagerness to please him in anyway he wanted-or needed. She was his own personal playground, but this time, his lust was wrapped in love. He knew it absolutely. There was no way not to love her when she gave him everything

without reservation, when she had the courage to hand her body over to a man as dominant as he.

He dragged the skirt from her body, rid himself of his too-heavy clothes and knelt over her, staring down at her full, ripe breasts. Her nipples were hard and eager. Her legs were slightly spread, so he could see the slick, wet invitation of her body calling to his. With a small growl rumbling in the back of his throat, he lowered his head once again to hers. She opened her mouth to him, accepting the hard spearing of his tongue. His teeth tugged at her lower lip, bit at the soft bow as his tongue teased and thrust. Beneath him, her skin heated to a smooth, sensitized silk, so that every time he rubbed his body over hers, she shivered and trembled with eagerness.

Her hands dropped to his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh, trying to hold on, as he deepened the kisses, rough now, demanding, making each one hotter and more addicting than the last. She was drowning, with no way to surface, his hands hard and hot on her body, his tongue capturing hers over and over, drawing it into his own mouth, his lips taking control in the way his hands did.

His palms slid possessively over her breasts, fingers tugging at her nipples. Arrows of flames streaked down her belly and darted between her thighs. She moaned softly, the sound vibrating down his spine and around to his groin, to hum through his erection. He wedged his knee between her thighs, opening her further to him.

He blazed a trail of fire from her lips to her neck, to the pulse beating frantically there. His teeth nipped and his tongue swirled us he listened to the surge of blood pounding in her veins for him. It was music-sheer music, setting his own blood surging in answer. It was only MaryAnn who could do this for him-quiet every demon, set his soul soaring, bring poetry to his life in the midst of too much reality.

She began to ride his thigh with a helpless little cry, struggling to assuage the need growing in her. He could feel the gathering of inviting moisture against his bare skin where she rubbed restlessly, and it felt so sensuous he could barely hang on to his control.

He flicked her nipple with a quick, hard stroke, and she jumped beneath him, already so sensitized that when he covered her breast, drawing the creamy flesh into the fiery heat of his mouth, she arched her body more fully into him, her cries driving him further into a frenzy of desire.

Her heart was loud, pounding out a rhythm to match his. He made his way down her body, gliding over the silky surface until he could clamp his arms around her thighs and lift her to his greedy mouth. He had woken craving the taste of her, almost more than the hunger for blood. He covered her intriguing little slit with his mouth, tongue flicking and stroking her clit. Her first release was hard and fast, her muscles tightening until the sensitive nerve endings were on fire, but he didn't stop.

MaryAnn tried to push away from him, but his strength was too much. All she could do was thrash wildly beneath him in an effort to escape his wicked mouth, which only incited him more.

That's it, sivamet burn for me. Go up Inflames. Scream. Become mine completely.

His voice was a rough whisper in her mind. His mouth suckled as his tongue assaulted her. It was too much, too fast, her body too sensitive.

I can't. You're going to kill me. Maybe not kill, but certainly destroy everything she had been, remaking her into someone else, someone highly sexual, someone who would need his hands and mouth and body for eternity. It was frightening to be so out of control, to have her body taken over, to have endless sensations build and build relentlessly. The second climax rushed over her, and she screamed his name, a plea, either to stop or for more, she honestly didn't know.

No, ainaak enyem, I am loving you the only way I know how. I am giving you everything I am and taking everything that you are.

He heard the growls of pleasure rumbling in his throat, knew the sound vibrated through her sheath, just as it vibrated through him. Her womb spasmed. He tightened his hold and took more, demanded more. This time he thrust his tongue hard and fast, pressing against her ultrasensitive spot while he drew the sweet honey from her body, lust and love gripping him so strongly he shuddered with it. His marauding mouth flung her into a third orgasm. She let out a keening wail.

Manolito, please. Please, please do something. Anything.

He rose above her, his features harsh with lust, his eyes filled with love. The combination was almost her undoing. Her heart seemed to stop for a moment, then began to pound so hard her chest ached. He lifted her hips again, dragging her over the thick bed of flowers so he could rest her legs on his broad shoulders, the pulsing head of his cock lodged in her entrance.

She held her breath, everything inside her focused completely on that one burning spot. The knot of nerves throbbed in anticipation. He surged forward, the thick length of him driving through the tight, silken muscles already so inflamed and swollen that the friction threw her into an even harder climax that didn't seem to stop. He buried himself completely, feeling the velvet walls contract and squeeze, the rippling sensations so strong he groaned with the need for control.

There was none. There could be none. The scent and feel of her tight sheath surrounding him, milking him, drove him past all sanity, and he plunged into her over and over, pistoning long strokes into her, letting the fiery sensations take him completely.

Manolito. There was fear in her voice. In her mind. She clutched at his shoulders, nails biting deep, head thrashing back and forth as she lifted her hips to meet his sensual assault.

You are safe, sivamet. I've got you safe. Relax for me. Let me take you riding the clouds with me.

He clenched his teeth, trying to hold on when every part of him wanted to let go, to explode into another dimension altogether. There was no longer shame or pain or other worlds around him or in him. There was only MaryAnn, his other half, and the sanctuary of pleasure she provided.

Let go, palafertul. Fly with me.

MaryAnn felt him then, in her head, sharing his body's pleasure, sharing her pleasure, so that their minds heightened the experience even more. Every deep stroke sent shock waves coursing through her, through him. Every thrust sent the lightning streaks racing through them. Sweat glistened on their skin as they reached together, each one wanting the other's ultimate pleasure.

He drove his cock deep, hard, into her pulsing, silken sheath. She was strangling him, her muscles tight and swollen from the multiple orgasms, sending fire streaking through his body. Impossibly, he felt his erection grow, locking down inside of her as his balls drew up and hot seed jetted into her depths. Pulse after pulse while his body shuddered with the power of the eruption, pleasure consuming him, shaking him.

Beneath him, she screamed, her release tearing through her, her eyes glazing over, her face stretched taut with shock, the orgasm almost too intense to bear. The leaves above her head glittered like silver stars, and the edges of her vision narrowed until she could only see him. His shoulders and chest blocked out the world around them as he began to lean forward with infinite slowness over the top of her.

Manolito allowed his incisors to lengthen. His body was still hard, still locked in her body. The movement of his body pressed the thick hard length of him against her most sensitive spot. She shook. He let her see it coming, wanted her to know what he was doing. «Be still,» he whispered when he felt her tremble, when he saw her eyes widen in what might have been fear. «I would never harm you, MaryAnn.»

His teeth sank deep right in the same place he had marked the swell of her breast. She cried out as the pain gave way to another erotic shift. Her body pulsed and wept around his, tightening with exquisite rhythm. She wrapped her arms around him as he took her blood, holding his head to her, giving him everything she was.

When he finally lapped his tongue across the spot, closing the wound, he kissed her gently. Strangely, he had the desire to bite her again, to sink his teeth in the hollow of her shoulder and lap at the sweet-tasting liquid of life. Resisting, he slowly withdrew from her, savoring the feel of her sheath reluctantly giving him up. He rolled over, pulling her on top of him so that she was lying stretched across him like a blanket.

He lay beneath her, feeling the imprint of her body over his, the soft mounds of her breasts, her nipples pressing into his chest. She was soft, wet flesh, silky smooth with her lush curves. He could feel her heart beating, feel the heat between her legs, hear the sound of her blood rushing hotly in her veins. Her fingers settled in his hair. She was perfect. The moment was perfect.

«I dreamt of you last night,» she murmured, lifting her face to nuzzle his throat. Her tongue teased his pulse point, her teeth nipping at his skin. «I dreamt of your body in mine and screaming your name. It was such a beautiful dream for a while.» She licked at his skin again, her tongue lingering on that small spot. «But then the wolves came…» She trailed off and kissed his throat, pressing her lips to that spot, wanting more, much more, hungry for the taste of him. Her jaw ached with the need, her teeth feeling longer and sharper as her tongue slid over the edges. She nuzzled his shoulder, nipped again.

Beneath her, Manolito went still. His hands settled around her arms like vises, and he jerked her up. His black eyes held such danger, such menace, she turned, searching the canopies of the trees for a reason. His stillness brought her attention back to him.

«What?»

Very slowly he put her from him and sat up, shoving his hands through the wealth of black hair. His gaze went back to her, cold and hard and utterly menacing. His mind was gone from hers, leaving her shivering, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

«Manolito, what is it?»

«I dreamt of you last night,» he said softly in a tone that raised goose bumps up and down her flesh. «I dreamt of my body buried deep in yours, of things I did to you and you crying out with pleasure. And then the wolves came…» Just as she had done, he trailed off.

She sat up as he had done, drew up her knees, wishing she could don clothes as easily as he was doing now. «Sharing a dream bothers you? Why? Don't you think it can happen, especially as we're so connected?»

«Carpathians do not dream.» He pulled his hair back and secured it with a leather tie. «We sleep the sleep of the dead. Our hearts and lungs shut down to rejuvenate. Our brains do the same. We cannot dream.»

She wasn't certain what he was telling her, but her mouth went dry and her heart picked up a harder, faster rhythm. «You probably dreamt it as you awakened, or went to sleep.»

«How do you explain my tolerance to the sun? I have been unable to walk in the early morning light for

centuries. Even with clouds and severe storms, the sun hurt my eyes, and my body grew leaden. Yet I stayed with you until almost noon. Explain that to me.» His voice was low and harsh, whipping at her with some unspoken accusation. «I rose with the sun out, yet my skin did not burn or blister.»

«How can I explain such a thing? I know little of Carpathians and lifemates. Perhaps once you have your lifemate, that too is restored to you.» She dragged her blouse to her and slid it on. «You ruined the buttons.»

Impatient, he waved his hand, and she found herself, not in her own clothes, but a cotton T-shirt and jeans. Jeans. Not the dress he'd asked her to wear for him, but the trousers he didn't like. She swallowed fear, trying not to cry as she began to braid the long, thick mane of hair, needing something to do to escape his cold gaze. They'd just shared something few, if any, would ever experience in a lifetime, and he was rejecting her, pushing her away. It felt like a slap in the face.

«You were going to bite me,» he said. «I saw it in your mind.»

She pushed back away from him until her back was against the railing. «Was I? I wanted to, yes. But then, I saw that you intended the same. You took my blood and wanted me to take yours. You wanted to bring me fully into your world, and you wouldn't have asked me. You were going to make the decision without my consent.»

«You are my lifemate. I do not need your consent.» There was dark emotion flickering in his eyes. Little amber lights began to glitter through the pure black obsidian.

Anger pulsed through her. «You know what? I don't need your consent to leave, and I'm going back to the house.» She stood up, and her hands gripped the rail when he stood up, too. He towered over her, looking every inch a predator.

«Actually, you do need my permission. And you will stay here and hear what I have to say. I want to know the truth, MaryAnn.»

She narrowed her gaze on him. «You wouldn't know the truth if it bit you in the butt.»

«You did bite me. And I took your blood on several occasions.»

She tilted her head at him. «Is that my fault? I didn't ask you to. In fact I didn't even know the first time you did it.»

«What are you?»

«A very pissed-off woman.»

He stepped closer to her, so close she could feel the heat of his anger. «You are werewolf. And you are infecting me with your blood.»

Chapter Fifteen

M

^j ^

MaryAnn stared at him for several long seconds, and then she began to laugh. «You are totally crazy.»

Manolito didn't look in the least amused. If anything, his expression hardened even more. «I am not crazy. I smell the wolf in you, and if you are honest with yourself, you can smell it all over me.»

She shook her head, but the laughter faded. «This is insane. I know Carpathians are shapeshifters. I'm not. I've lived my entire life as a human being. My parents aren't werewolves. I doubt such a thing exists.»

«Why would you doubt it when you have seen jaguar-men and vampires? When you know the Carpathian people exist? Why should you have trouble believing in werewolves?»

Perspiration beaded on his forehead. Carpathians sweated blood, she noted. He brushed at his temples.

«Then where are they? And if they really exist, and I'm one of them, why didn't you recognize it sooner?» The sweating blood thing was eww, and she so wasn't becoming Carpathian. She'd much rather be a wolf!

«Because I have not seen or heard of the lycans for centuries.»

She put her hands on her hips. «So let me get this straight. You were all in love with me and ready to turn me into a Carpathian when you thought I was human, but now it's different because I might be turning you into something else.» She raised her chin another inch in challenge. «What you mean is, it's perfectly okay for me to give up who and what I am, but not so much for you.»

He frowned at her. «I was born to be Carpathian. It is who and what I am.»

She pressed a hand to her churning stomach. «You hypocritical male chauvinist, Neanderthal, asinine idiot. I must have been out of my mind to think I could live with someone like you.»

He waved her opinion of him aside. «We are lifemates. Of course I will do whatever is necessary to complete the conversion and bring you to my side completely, but I have to study this problem from every angle. I have never heard of a werewolf and a Carpathian mating. The blood of the wolf is as powerful as the blood of the Carpathian.»

«I don't shapeshift.»

«The wolf lives within you, part of you. It is not the same way I take another form. The wolf is your guardian and will emerge when needed. You have felt him close to you. That is why you have flashes of memory. And it is why both of us can take the early morning sunlight. Only my eyes were affected by the sunlight, not my entire body. You have not burned in the sun in spite of the fact that my blood flows in your veins. The change should have already begun to take hold.»

«And you think I've known all along and somehow have tricked you? If there is a wolf in me, now is the time for it to come leaping out. I just might go for your throat.» Furious, she shoved at his chest to move him out of her way. «You should hear yourself. Do you really think I'd want to spend the rest of my life with a man who has no regard for my feelings?»

«I have every regard for your feelings.»

«Right! Which is why you accused me of 'infecting,' « she spat the word in a fury, «you! Like what I am is some taint. Some disease. You know what, Manolito De La Cruz? You deserve to be stuck in hell. And I'm

an idiot for even thinking a relationship with you could be anything more meaningful than hot sex.»

She went to the edge of the deck and, gripping the rail, looked down. She'd jumped once, but now it seemed a very long way. The thing inside her, the wolf, he suspected, stirred, recognizing her anger. She swallowed the sudden fear in her throat and turned back to him, her heart pounding hard enough for him to hear it. Her own head was beginning to hurt, a buzzing sound, like thousands of insects driving her crazy, reverberated through her mind. Her skull felt too tight, and her brain began to pulse and throb in time to the surge of blood rushing in her veins.

«You know.» He made it a statement. «You were fully aware of my taking your blood. You wanted to take mine. You wanted the taste of me in your mouth. Hot and sweet and bursting with life. That is not human behavior.»

«You made me want that.» It came out in a whisper. She pressed her hand to her churning stomach. Between rage and fear she should have found some kind of balance, but all she felt was disoriented, swinging back and forth.

«I did not. I did not force your compliance. The call of the wolf was on you.»

MaryAnn turned away from him, her heart pounding. Everything was making sense. It shouldn't be. She couldn't accept what he was saying. She didn't want a wolf inside of her. She didn't even know what that meant, or how it was possible. «Take me back.» She didn't look at him, couldn't face him. She felt very alone. «I want to go back now.» Feeling alone made her angry all over again. When he'd faced his worst moment, she had stood with him, but he rejected her. Rejected her.

«You have completely closed yourself off from me.»

«You idiot!» She wanted to leap across the deck and smack his face. Was he really that obtuse? Taking a deep breath, she forced herself back under control. «Did you hear me? I asked you to take me back.» Because she was going home. As fast as she could get back to Seattle, where life was normal and she didn't have wild cravings for idiot from centuries gone past.

«MaryAnn, neither of us has a choice. We have to work this out.»

Her chin came up, dark eyes glittering at him. «I have a choice. I refuse to have my life taken out of my hands. You rejected me when you thought I was changing you from being a precious Carpathian. As far as I'm concerned, you've forfeited every right to me as your lifemate. I asked you to take me home. And I was polite about it.» She wasn't feeling so polite now. Her nails were digging into her palm. The buzzing in her head grew louder. Her mouth felt coated in copper.

«I did not reject you.»

«Really? Well, as far as I'm concerned, you're a coward. You want me to take all the risks. You want me to become something unknown and frightening, and I have to accept it because fate somehow decreed we should be together. Well, I refuse to be with anyone who insists on me risking everything, but he won't risk anything at all. Take me home now.»

It was a command, a compulsion, and for the first time, she realized she had not just thought it-or said it. She had thrown the command into his mind, furious with his double standard. Furious with herself for letting him take her over. More frightened than she'd ever been in her life, because she suspected there was no turning back and that even if she made it home, whatever was inside of her would refuse to quiet.

She was psychic, just as they all had said. She had been using her ability all along, without being aware of it. She looked up at him, and her breath caught in her throat. He was looking down at her, black eyes glittering with menace. He was every bit as furious as she was, and much more frightening.

«I said no. You are not going anywhere.»

She leapt at him, raking at his face with her long fingernails, missing him only by a scant breath as he grabbed her arms and gave her a hard shake. «Do you think to command me?» He shook her again. «Me? Your lifemate? You dare to try to influence my mind? To attack me?»

Who was she conspiring with to try to trap and kill him? She had deceived him. Even as the words slipped out, even as he entertained the idea that she would harm him, he rejected the thought.

What was he doing and thinking? Had he truly lost his mind? Was he the coward she called him? He had gone into battle with the vampire without flinching. No one had ever questioned his courage, yet he was bullying his lifemate when she needed love and reassurance. He was accusing her of things the innocence in her eyes, in her mind, belied.

Was this his true personality? Or was it some manifestation of the wolf mixing with his Carpathian blood? Both species were dominant. Both demanded instant obedience, the wolf perhaps more. Who knew what secrets that elusive society had kept? It was obvious they had gone underground and still existed, but he had no way to understand what was happening-the thick mane of hair, the increased sense of smell, acute hearing, the driving need to keep his mate beside him, his scent all over her.

He was angry with himself, not her. He should have recognized the wolf traits in her, been more prepared for the consequences of taking her blood. He had been consumed with her, so much so that when he woke he had needed to feel her body wrapped around his even more than he needed blood for sustenance. In all the centuries of his existence, that had never happened. She was in every thought he had, taking him over until he knew he couldn't survive without her. Worse, when her mind was withdrawn from his, the other world invaded and he was left in the gray shadows, wandering, trying to figure out a way to reconnect wholly his spirit and body.

He couldn't force her to accept him. He couldn't get into her mind and stay merged; nor could he persuade her of the consequences of keeping that mind merge from him. And as she had withdrawn from him, he could no longer sustain enough power to keep his spirit wholly in the land of the living. Around him, the colors faded until everything was dim and grayish, and when he looked at his hands, he could see through them. His brain felt as if it was bursting through his skull, his temples pounding with pain. Ordinarily he could shut off pain, but it was impossible. His tongue felt funny, thick and coated with copper.

MaryAnn struggled in his grip, opening her mouth with the intention of blasting him, so hurt she wanted to crawl in a hole and pull the earth over the top of her, so angry she thought she might take another swipe at his face with her too-sharp fingernails, but something about him caught her attention. She pushed down her own hurt feelings and forced her mind back to reason.

«Manolito, is your head hurting?»

He nodded, pressing against his temples hard. «I shouldn't experience pain like this. I do not understand.» Unless it is the wolf. Unless it is this woman, trying to pretend to be my lifemate when she is really a puppet of the vampire, bent on my destruction.

She caught that and flinched, nearly backing out of his mind, afraid he would hurt her more with his insults, but then she caught a sound. A buzzing. Like a million insects, only much worse than what she was getting in her brain. Her breath caught in her throat. Instinct told her to pull back fast, but she forced calm. She was

psychic. She had the ability to read minds. She'd been doing it for years; she just hadn't been aware she was doing it. There was nothing to be afraid of. She just had to figure out how she did it.

She let her breath out and reached for him, filling her thoughts with him, wanting him to feel better, wanting to take away his pain and see what-or who-was harming him. The buzzing grew stronger, louder, pushing at her brain, making her feel so sick she ran to the railing and leaned over it, but she held on, determined to push further. Voices. Soft. Insistent. Crawling up and down his mind. Slicing at his brain.

«Manolito.» She caught his hand and held on tight. «We're under attack. You're under attack. I can hear them. They're trying to get you to kill me.»

He didn't hesitate, his hand enveloping hers. «The undead. Maxim seeks to trap me from the other side.» It all made sense now, and in a way it was a relief to know he wasn't crazy. He hadn't turned on his lifemate. It hadn't occurred to him that he would be vulnerable in the shadow land, but it should have. His body was alive, and part of his spirit had returned to that of the living, which meant the dead would be aware he didn't belong with them.

«How can he do that when he's dead?»

«Maxim's spirit still remains in the land of ghosts, and that is where my spirit is. He must be attacking me from within.» He pulled her close to him. «I do not want your last memories of your lifemate to be those of rejection and anger. I cannot believe the way Maxim could reach an ancient as battle-savvy as I am supposed to be. I fell under his influence like an inexperienced fledgling.» He brought her knuckles to his mouth. «Forgive me, MaryAnn. I would not have hurt you for the world. It is my privilege to protect you, yet at the first test, I have failed you.»

«No you haven't,» she said. «Just tell me how we're going to make him stop.» Because whatever Maxim was doing, Manolito was suffering; she could see it in his eyes, feel it in his mind. «Tell me what to do.»

«I have to enter wholly into that world, and my body will be vulnerable to attack. If they kill you, or they destroy my body, I am lost. They must have a plan.»

She stuck her chin out. «I can go there with you. I'm pretty certain I know how.»

He shook his head. «No. It is much too dangerous. I can travel in the shadow world, because my spirit was drawn there, but you are alive and you do not belong. They were aware of you the instant you entered. I think they can kill you there.»

«I think he's killing you in that world right now.»

«He will not kill me.» He caught her chin in his hand. «Listen to me, MaryAnn. This is important. I was upset when I discovered that I was changing, becoming wolf, just as you are changing and becoming Carpathian, but not for the reasons you think. Not for the reasons I gave you. Whatever influence Maxim has on me, at this moment my thinking is clear. Other psychic women have successfully converted to Carpathian. It was a painful process, but they are healthy and happy and living lives they seem to embrace. I expected no less for you.»

He bent down to brush a kiss on top of her head. «Discovering the wolf changes the equation. There is no precedent. We have no idea what could happen to you if I convert you. We have no idea the effect the wolf would have on me. I can tell I am more aggressive and dominant, and you indicated you already had a problem with me in that area. I do not want to take a chance with your life. Until we know more, we have to be careful. I could become dangerous. You could be killed. We just do not know.»

MaryAnn leaned into him, needing to touch him, beginning to fee! panic. There was something wrong with the way his eyes were focusing. «Stay with me,» she whispered, clinging to his hand. «Stay with me, Manolito.»

«I have to go back there. Whatever Maxim is doing is there in the meadow of mists and ghosts, sivamet. I cannot be in two places at one time and fight him.»

«Then I'm going with you.»

«You cannot. My body will still be here unprotected. I am sending a message to my brother to come at once to get you to safety. He will know what to do with my body.» He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs sliding over her silky skin. «You are the most important person in my world, MaryAnn. I cannot risk you. Please do as I ask and wait here where you are protected for Riordan to come. I cannot worry about you and fight Maxim at the same time.»

She stared up at his black, glittering eyes, realizing there was nothing she could do to stop him. He believed he had to protect her, and he would. He would die for her. He would kill her for. He would do anything for her. No matter the consequences to him, he would go where the vampire had all the advantages.

His smile was gentle, the pad of his thumb sliding over her lower lip. «What makes you think he has the advantage, csitri?»

«He's meaner than you, and much more cunning. And he's had time to plan.»

His smile widened, until he looked wolfish. «I do not think you have to worry about who is meaner or more cunning. He has had time to plan, but he is counting on me trying to stay in this world. He will send others here. They will come, so do not leave until Riordan is here to escort you.»

He was already fading, his spirit slipping back, away from her, away from the living world. MaryAnn tried to hold on to him, but there was no use. He was gone, and only his body remained, a shell, faded and drawn, no longer vital. There was enough spirit left for him to sink down, leaning his back against the railing, and then that, too, was gone and she heard his call.

Riordan. I have great need of you. MaryAnn is unprotected, and the vampire will send everyone he has to slay her. You must get to her.

The answering in his head sounded slurred and demonic. She could barely make out that he was speaking another language, one she didn't understand. Abruptly Manolito pulled away, confused. The voice was so distorted, he couldn't tell whether he was speaking with his brother or not.

MaryAnn took a deep breath and let it out. She could do this. She had successfully merged with Manolito when she had wanted to; she could do the same with Riordan. All she had to do was follow the original path Manolito had used.

Riordan. Her first attempt was hesitant, but she felt him stir and latch on to the path immediately.

MaryAnn. What is wrong with Manolito? Juliette and I are transporting Solange and Jasmine to the ranch. Neither is safe here. I can tell he is in trouble, but I cannot reach him.

She swallowed the surge of fear. How long will it take you to get back here? Her stomach did a hard roll, but she dug her fingernails into the railing and waited.

We are starting back now. If we take Jasmine and Solange home to the others, we cannot aid you in time. We're turning back, so hold on. Can yon reach Manolito? Can you get to him and hold him to this world?

MaryAnn glanced at Manolito's body. If she went to find him in the shadow land, his body would be completely vulnerable. I can go to him when you get here, and I know I can bring him back. She put much more confidence in her voice than she actually felt. Accepting she was psychic and could talk telepathically wasn't easy. Her brain kept telling her she was crazy. Hurry, Riordan. I don't think we have much time.

The monkeys in the surrounding trees screamed a warning. Birds erupted into the sky, wings flapping hard, stirring the air so that she scented intruders. Jaguar. A human she believed to be mage. He had the taint she associated with vampire on him. And one other. Her heart thudded hard as her nose wrinkled. The wind carried the scent of decay. Vampire? She was not equipped to deal with a vampire.

MaryAnn rushed to the railing and peered down. Oh yeah. She was in deep, deep trouble. She could see the jaguar emerging from the forest of ferns along the embankment. His fur was dark with water, and as she looked down, he lifted his head and looked right at her. Their eyes met. He bared his teeth.

She ran her hand down her thigh. At least Manolito had provided her with a pair of designer jeans, one of her favorite. She could die looking good. She took a deep breath, considering her options. If she ran, they might follow her, but she doubted all three would, and that would leave Manolito's body vulnerable. They would certainly destroy it and with it-him.

You must leave, MaryAnn. The mage will unravel the safeguards, and you cannot face jaguar, mage and vampire. Go now.

Manolito's voice was far away and thin, his spirit in another realm.

I'm not leaving your body here for them. Riordan's coming.

You cannot wait too long. You cannot face a vampire alone.

She certainly didn't want to face one, alone or with an army.

I don't think you have to worry too much about me going anywhere near them.

He seemed so far away that she had to fight down panic.

How had he become so important to her so fast? She'd thought it was physical attraction and nothing else. He was so incredibly beautiful. No man had ever looked at her the way he had. She was intelligent enough to realize that the danger and macho inherent in his personality were also a huge moth-to-flame draw for women, but she was too logical to succumb to a man for that. Maybe all along she'd wanted the attraction to be those things because it kept her safe. Loving Manolito De La Cruz would be too much like jumping off a cliff.

MaryAnn exhaled. She had already taken the plunge, somewhere along the way without even realizing it. It didn't matter that he was Carpathian and she was-whatever she was. Manolito was her other half, and she was going to keep him alive. She was going to do whatever it took to bring him out of that other world, back to the land of the living, back to her.

She stood up in plain sight of the jaguar, wanting him to feel the challenge. Wanting him to see he had a fight on his hands-or claws. Because they weren't getting Manolito's body. She would find a way to use whatever she was, whatever power she really had, to keep him safe until Riordan got there to take over. And then she

was marching into the land of mists and ghosts-or whatever he called it-and she was dragging him out.

Below, the jaguar snarled in answer, revealing viciously long teeth. It gave up any pretense of hiding its intent and sprang onto the trunk of a large tree. Using claws, it dragged itself to the lowest limb and began to run along the canopy highway built of thick overlapping branches. The cat raced toward her, eyes glowing with venom.

MaryAnn watched the jaguar come, her pulse racing in time to the beat of its paws as it hit each tree, breaking small twigs as it came closer and closer. Her chest felt tight. Too tight. Her head hurt as if her brain had swollen and no longer fit inside her skull. Her teeth and jaw ached. Muscles contracted. Skin rippled as if something lived beneath it. The ends of her fingers began to split apart as they curved down. She felt herself being drawn into a tight, tiny compartment, into a small space with no way out.

Panic turned the edges of her vision black. She could feel herself, the very essence of who she was, being drawn into a vortex, whirling, shrinking, until she grew smaller and smaller.

MaryAnn flung out her hands, catching the railing to anchor herself, and with a small, terrified cry, she pulled back. Nails dug into the wooden rail, leaving behind deep grooves, while she breathed away the feeling of being swallowed alive. The jaguar leapt straight at her, claws extended, and she jumped back, tripped over Manolito's legs and landed hard on her bottom.

The jaguar slammed into an invisible wall and fell straight down, clawing desperately for a purchase on the trunk or branches as it crashed through, breaking boughs along the way.

MaryAnn stood up slowly and cautiously peered down. The jaguar hit a larger branch and managed to hang on where it lay, panting, sides heaving, trying to catch its breath. Beneath the cat, a man emerged from the heavier foliage and lifted his hands in the air. A mage. And one who seemed to know what he was doing. Unlike the other mage, who had been tentative as he worked, this man barely slowed down as he worked to unravel Manolito's safeguards. The invisible threads woven so tightly together began to unravel so fast she could almost feel them falling.

She pressed her lips together hard and forced her mind away from panic. The moment the mage took down the safeguards, the jaguar would attack. She might manage to kill the shapeshifter, but she knew nothing at all about fighting vampires, even fledglings. And the mage was dangerous as well. What had she done last time to kill the mage? She couldn't remember. She hadn't killed him on purpose. She'd wanted him to go away.

The monkeys shrieked at the jaguar and rained twigs down on him. The jaguar snarled and leapt at one of the smaller ones in the lower branches. At once the entire monkey population went wild. The sound was deafening. MaryAnn realized the mage had already unraveled the sound barrier Manolito had erected.

Riordan. Get here soon. She tried to send the impression of the mage, vampire and jaguar to him.

She felt his sudden tension. Can you get out of there?

I cant leave Manolito's body unprotected. I don't think I have very much time before the mage breaks through. He seems to know what he's doing.

Manolito will have woven in a few surprises, but he most likely was looking for privacy, not expecting an all-out attack against the two of you.

«Just hurry.» She whispered the last aloud.

There had to be a way to distract the mage. She concentrated on him, focusing wholly on his face, his expression, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the reversal of the safeguards Manolito had set. How could she stop him? Slow him down? What she needed was a way to get the earth beneath his feet to open, a big wide crack that would follow his every step if he tried to escape it.

The tree shook. The ground below undulated, throwing the mage off his feet. He glared at her as he crab-walked backward hastily, trying to avoid the crack widening in the earth. Her breath caught in her lungs and she went still. Was she doing that? Was it possible? Could she really have broken a branch from above the first mage and dropped it on him? The thought both sickened her and gave her hope. But how was she doing it? What else had she done? What else was she capable of doing?

For the first time she felt a twinge of hope. The agitated movements of the monkeys caught her attention. They were throwing leaves and twigs not only at the jaguar, but at the mage, as if they were firmly aligned with her. She let her breath out slowly. Had the animals been following her? Had they obeyed her when she told them to go? And the jaguars, even the shifters, had stopped when she'd given the command. She hadn't held them for very long, but for one instant they had obeyed her as well.

She rubbed her pounding head. It was about to split open. Her chest felt too tight, as if everything inside her was expanding and she was contracting, getting smaller and smaller. Her body felt as if it didn't fit, and hard knots appeared beneath her skin on every muscle. It was distracting and just plain freaky. For a moment she was shaken, wanting to run, but then she glanced at Manolito, so still, so alive looking, his eyes vacant when his body seemed so strong and virile. He wasn't running from trying to protect her, and she wasn't about to leave him behind.

Her spine stiffened, and she looked up at the animals in the canopy. So many of them. The sheer numbers were reassuring. We really don't like that bad man, do we? He's trying to hurt me. Throw things at him. Big things. Drive him away. Don't let him put his arms in the air like that.

The monkeys went insane, jumping up and down on and shaking the branches of the trees, running back and forth, showing teeth and beating on their chests as their agitation built. She was beginning to get a feel for the flow of energy. It was small at first-she could only guess at what she was doing-but as the animals responded and the energy swelled around her, she became very aware of it. She took a deep breath and tapped into the seething cauldron of power, directing it this time at the snarling jaguar.

That man doesn't belong in your realm. They have tried to enslave you. They've taken everything from you and are driving your people to extinction. See them for what they are. The vampire has put his mark on you. You were once a proud man; now you do another's bidding. They don't belong here.

The jaguar shook its broad head continually, looking confused. It took a few steps toward the tree as if it might come after her again, but it stopped, trembling.

The mage snapped a command to it and waved one hand, gesturing toward her.

Why should this man tell you what to do? Is he your master? Does he own you? You are jaguar. You own the rain forest. Whoever walks in it should walk with your leave, not the other way around.

The jaguar gave a coughing grunt and swung its head toward the mage, eyes blazing with fury. It crouched low. The mage froze. He began to talk quietly, chanting something while his hands gestured in rapid patterns before him.

Look out! He's trying to use power against you. Look at him. He's trapping you with a spell. Attack before he finishes. She put alarm and urgency into her thoughts.

The jaguar snarled at the mage, showing its teeth as it took several slow steps toward the mage. The mage gave way, backing up, this time holding out one hand to stop the large, menacing cat.

The thick hedge of ferns withered and turned brown, lacy fronds rolling back as a third man stepped from the bushes. He was, by turns, beautiful and then grotesque. MaryAnn blinked several times, trying to bring his true form into focus. With a casual wave of his hands at the monkeys, they fell into an uneasy silence. He spoke a word to the jaguar, and the shapeshifter halted.

MaryAnn touched her tongue to her suddenly dry lips. She was looking at a vampire-the epitome of evil. He looked up at her and smiled. His jagged teeth were stained with blood, and his skin seemed stretched tight against his skull. The next moment he was a gorgeous man, with a wide, engaging smile.

«Come down and join us,» he invited softly.

She felt the buzz in her head and knew he had embedded a compulsion in his voice. She forced a smile, then waited a few beats to gather massive amounts of energy to project into her voice and mind, so she could turn his own compulsion back on him. «I'm quite comfortable actually, so you can go ahead and leave.»

The vampire blinked. Frowned. Shook his head as if he couldn't remember what he was doing.

«Yes, you want to go. Leave this place.» She poured power into her voice.

He turned away from her, just for a moment obeying her command, swinging his body around toward the ferns.

Her breath caught in her throat and she struck. Now! Now attack. All of you. Hurry. Take them before they destroy you.

The jaguar leapt on the vampire's back, teeth sinking deep into the skull. At the same time, the monkeys dove at the mage, biting and hitting, swarming over him in large numbers. Birds took to the air, wings flapping as they buzzed around the combatants, raking with their talons.

The mage went down beneath the sheer numbers. MaryAnn wanted to turn away, the sight sickening her, as the jaguar bit down hard and blood gushed, running in streams down the vampire's head. He roared his rage and caught the jaguar in his hands, dragging the cat away from his body with his enormous strength and wrenching at the head. The crack was audible to her, even in the midst of the shrieks and cries of monkeys and birds.

The vampire glanced at the mage, buried under the mountain of bodies, and then he slowly turned back to face her. His head was punctured, the skull shattered under the jaguar's strong bite, but it didn't seem to faze the undead. The eyes were glowing with red-orange flames, the mouth opened wide in a grimace of hate.

He stood there for a moment simply staring at her. Then he flexed his fingers, allowing the nails to grow and curve into claws. Still holding her gaze, he flew through the air and landed on the trunk of the tree beside the one she was in and began to slither up the side. He looked frightening. An abomination. Just like one of the vampires in the movies, a dark, unnatural apparition of evil bent on killing her-on destroying Manolito.

For a moment terror gripped her. The safeguard wouldn't hold long. Manolito hadn't meant for it to be a protection so much as a sound barrier. Riordan wasn't there to save her. If she was going to live, if she was going to keep Manolito's body safe, she had to do something fast.

Already she could feel the power surging in her body. Once again her head pounded, this time even stronger,

faster. As if her body already knew the way and was only seeking her permission. The idea of letting go of herself, of her own identity, was almost more terrifying than the vampire crawling up the tree trunk.

Her jaw ached, popping painfully. Tendons and ligaments pulled while the muscles in her body contorted, hardening into tight knots of pain she could visibly see beneath her skin. Her stomach lurched. She fought down panic. Even if she didn't do this for herself, she had to do it for Manolito.

Images strobed through her mind so quickly they nearly made her sick. They moved so fast she couldn't sort them out or focus on any one, but they were of wolves walking on two legs. A collective memory. Her skin stretched tight, too tight. Her vision clouded, edged red and black. Once again her fingers curved into claws, an involuntary action she couldn't stop. Pain exploded through her.

She tried to breathe, tried to force herself to let go, but her mind just wouldn't surrender. Her mind just wouldn't let her go. What if she was trapped?

The tree shook. The vampire shrieked, the sound skating down her spine and striking terror in her heart. He had leapt onto the edge of the platform, just outside the railing, and he was working fast at unraveling the safeguard. She had only moments to make a choice.

MaryAnn put her hand on Manolito's shoulder, touched his face. He was somewhere else, fighting for her. He was counting on his brother to come and protect her and protect his body, but she was all he had. She took a deep breath and let go.

At once she felt the very essence of who she was sucked down, spiraling and getting smaller, as if she were folding in upon herself. She was fully aware, but her dominion over her own body was diminishing rapidly. Everything in her screamed to resist, but she kept her gaze fixed on Manolito, and the sight of him gave her the courage to surrender.

As the essence that was MaryAnn retreated, the fury of the wolf sprang out, passing her as it went. She felt the inescapable power of it, the enormous strength of body and will. The sentinel. The guardian. It leapt to take her place, to fit into her body, stretching and molding muscle and bone to suit its steely frame.

She was aware of her skin bursting, but there was no pain. She couldn't feel the sensation of her bones and body re-forming, or her organs shifting; there was only the feeling of being protected and safe deep within.

At that moment the vampire tore through the barrier, and with a hiss of hatred, it sprang at Manolito's body. The wolf leapt to intercept, body changing fully in flight. They crashed together, the wolf growling, the vampire shrieking. All around them the rain forest erupted into screaming monkeys and birds, as animals reacted to the terrible sound of battle.

Chapter Sixteen

sd ^ ^

Manolito moved quickly through the barren shadow world, seeking the darker edges where the undead gathered in packs to wail while they waited to know their fate. He had the illusion of wearing his body, striding over the uneven ground, making his way through the tangle of huge roots, just as if he were still back

in the rain forest, but he was too light, almost floating, and when he looked down, his hands and arms were transparent. He could see the rotting vegetation on the ground as he passed through on his way to the mountains of jagged boulders that marked the entrance to the meadow of mists.

A few spirits frowned at him as he strode by them, a couple lifted a hand as if they might recognize him, but for the most part, he was ignored. It was strange to him that as he glided through the forests and hills, he could clearly see that two types of people populated the land, where before he hadn't noticed.

The meadow seemed to separate those who had little or no remorse for the things they did in their former life from the ones who struggled to understand where they had gone wrong. Few had been around to greet him.

As he approached closer to the meadow, heat and steam rose to envelope him. Where before the mists were simply gray and dunk, with no feeling of hope, now the air was even more oppressive and seemed thick with tension, as if uneasiness walked the land. In the distance he heard the sounds of mocking laughter, the whisper of voices calling his name. They waited for him, knew he approached.

Was it really possible for an army of the undead to find a way back to the land of the living? If so, he would have to find a way to stop them. He had to let go of his fears for MaryAnn and give this world his full attention. He couldn't be in two places at one time. He would have to trust that Riordan had arrived to protect MaryAnn from harm. He didn't dare touch MaryAnn's mind and accidentally pull her into the spirit world with him. He had to keep her from danger at all costs-even his life should that be necessary. He shut down all emotion and turned his attention wholly to the problem at hand.

If the vampires were acting to invade the land of the living, they had someone powerful helping them. Razvan or Xavier, the two most powerful mages in existence. Maybe both. No one else could wield that kind of power. And if Xavier and Maxim were allies working together to bring down the Carpathian people, Xavier certainly would have told Maxim if he was trying to find a way to tap into an army of the undead. Everyone knew Xavier called on shadow warriors, men of honor long gone from the world, their spirits imprisoned by the skilled mage to do his bidding. If Xavier could yoke the shadow warriors, he might find a way to harness the legions of undead waiting in the meadow of mists.

The way seemed longer, and more people tentatively greeted him, which surprised him. Before, the first time his spirit had arrived, most turned away with a quick gesture toward the meadow, yet now the inhabitants seemed to accept him. As he moved closer to his destination, he felt an easiness spreading and realized that when he had arrived the first time, his spirit had been dark, close to turning, so close that even within the land of the dead, he had been considered closer to vampire than to hunter. The atmosphere around the meadow hadn't bothered him and he had instinctively sought it out. Now his spirit must appear brighter, more normal. The growing stain across his soul had receded because of MaryAnn. He owed her more even than he had known.

He came to the meadow and halted, staring out over the expanse of sinkholes and shifting soil. It looked like a spongy marsh, and when he put his foot on it in experimentation, he sank to his ankle. His body had no real weight here, so the reaction made no sense. He hesitated, studying the barren land. Only a few scattered weeds and thistles grew in the center of the marsh. Dark reeds lined the edges, bent like old straws. Steam rose from vent holes, and minerals of all colors-dim, not bright-rimmed boiling mud ponds. The sludge quivered and popped, splattering large, dark spots of oozing mud and adding to the rising steam.

The mist lay heavy over the meadow, a gray-green vapor that reeked of sulfur. He stood for a time studying the rising plumes of hot gases and wondering why it had been so easy to cross it on his first visit.

«You look lost, Manolito.» A voice greeted him from behind.

Manolito spun around and found himself face-to-face with Vlad Dubrinsky. Emotion welled up sharp and

fast, a piercing shock that threatened to shake his confidence. Joy. Guilt. Shame. Amazement. Pride. Vlad Dubrinsky had been more than a prince to him. When their own father had chosen to follow his lifemate into death, Vlad had stepped in to fill the gulf left by the death of their parents. He'd guided Manolito and his brothers, mentored them, respected their counsel. Yet, in the end, they had repudiated him for trying to save his son when he knew there was no hope.

«My prince. I did not expect to find you in such a place.»

Vlad stepped forward and gripped his forearms in the timeless greeting of respect between warriors. «It is good to see you, old friend.»

«I do not understand how you can be in this place.»

Vlad's eyebrow shot up. «You do not? This is where we wait between worlds, Manolito.»

«Wait for what? I came here and found only condemnation. Accusations. Invitations to join the undead.»

«You are not quite spirit, yet not quite one with your body.»

«I was killed, yet my brothers held my spirit to earth. Gregori went down the tree of life to retrieve me, but I woke too soon. My spirit and body had not yet had time to meld together, so I walk in both lands.»

Vlad gestured across the meadow. «You do not belong with the vampires. I can see by your spirit you have not succumbed to our darker nature.»

«I was close. Too close.»

«You do not want to go to their resting ground. They cannot kill you, but they have devised ways to torture and drive the spirit mad. They cannot leave this place without accepting their own guilt, yet they will not. They blame everyone around them. I suspect many would like to get their teeth into you. Come with me to the campfire of warriors. We will once again talk.»

«My body is vulnerable in the other world, Vlad, and there are conspiracies I have to uncover in order to keep our people safe. I believe Maxim is raising an army of the dead and hopes to find a portal from this land to the living.»

Vlad stopped moving to frown at him, then shook his head. «I should have guessed he would be up to no good. Come. It is a small way and we might be of use to you. In any case, Sarantha will want to see you. Give us news and let us give you aid.»

«I still do not understand how you can be here, waiting for judgment. You were never close to turning. You served our people with honor.»

«Do you believe, after all this time, that I never made mistakes, Manolito? I made many. I tried to do my best, but like any man, I had my failings. You should know that better than most. I tried to save my eldest son at a cost to many others. Was that a wise decision? Or even a fair one?»

«You could not have known what would happen.»

«Of course I knew. I did not want to believe it, but I had the gift of precognition. I knew, yet I set the course because I could not bear to destroy my own son. When I confessed to Sarantha, she begged me not to let him die, and fool that I was, I chose the path of destruction for all our people. I am responsible for many things

that should never have come to pass. In the end, the job that should have been mine was shouldered by my son Mikhail.»

Manolito could barely accept what he was hearing. All along he had felt guilt and shame for condemning Vlad's decision. He loved him and respected him, and yet he had felt a traitor for plotting to overthrow him.

«It was not in the best interest of our people.» He choked on the words, on the lump growing in his throat. The Malinov brothers had lost their beloved sister, Ivory, and so had the De La Cruz brothers. She had been their light, the reason they all continued their hope and belief in their people. With her death, the darkness had descended on all of them, triggering a chain of events that could still very well lead to the destruction of their entire species.

«No,» Vlad agreed, his tone very even. «It was not. I am no deity. No Carpathian male is. We are all capable of great wrongs.»

Manolito swallowed the tight ball of condemnation welling in his throat. What could he say to that? He had done things in his life, many things, he regretted. At the time they were done without emotion, but he could remember every single incident, and the worst crime had been against his own lifemate.

He hung his head. «What you say is true. I was close to turning when I heard the voice of my lifemate. She was under the protection of Mikhail and Gregori, along with several other Carpathians. I cared nothing for the laws and I took her blood without her consent or knowledge, binding her to me.»

Vlad nodded his head. «It was a challenge to you.»

«To get through their ranks and claim what belonged to me? Yes. Am I sorry for it? I do not know the answer to that. I am sorry I did not reveal myself to her and tell her my reasons for taking her life out of her hands without consent, but I do not think doing so was wrong-only the way I did it.»

«Our people have lived long beside humans, and our rules are different for reasons, Manolito. We were given the ability to bind our lifemate because without that our people would have died out long ago. Few will ever be able to understand that, but if we do our best to love and respect our women, always putting them first once they are in our care, we have a better chance that other species will come to understand and accept us.»

«The world has changed a great deal in your absence, Vlad, and with it, our people. I have found it difficult to accept the new ways.»

Vlad clapped him on his shoulder, the touch so light Manolito barely felt it. Vlad's body was even less distinctive than his. «We all have flaws, Manolito, and we all have to work to overcome them. There is no shame in that. Come, greet Sarantha and give us all the news of our loved ones.»

«I truly have little time. MaryAnn, my lifemate, is guarding my body and I believe she will be attacked. I have to stop Maxim before he figures out a way to leave this place with an army of the undead.»

Vlad shook his head. «He cannot find a way out of this world.»

«Do not be so certain. Maxim works in league with Xavier.»

Vlad turned his head slowly, the smile fading from his face. «Xavier still lives?»

«We believe so. And his grandson, Razvan, works with him to destroy our people. We are almost certain that Maxim's brothers are all involved in a plot to destroy Mikhail, a plot I helped to devise.» Manolito refused to

look away from Vlad as he confessed. This was the man he respected above all others, with the exception of his brothers. This was the man he'd once thought of as his father. And this was the man whose downfall he'd helped to plan. He would not lie or shy away from the guilt and shame of his deed.

Vlad remained silent for a long moment. There was no flicker of disappointment or disgust on his face; he simply locked gazes with Manolito and stared him in the eye. «Do you think it comes as a surprise to me that you and your brothers entertained the idea of bringing down the reign of Dubrinsky? You were always intelligent and you saw my crime. You knew what I had done. In trying to save my son, I did betray our people. You had every right to question my judgment. It was not sound.»

«We did not have the right to plot your downfall or the destruction of every other species we were allies with.»

«To take me down, you would have had to take them down.» Vlad nodded his head. «It makes sense, of course.» He waved his hand toward a small grove of trees. «Please come for a few minutes. A few of us guard this area to keep newcomers from wandering into the land of the fallen ones.»

Manolito matched his steps, although, as much as he wanted to talk to Vlad and even get advice on the elusive werewolf species, he was impatient to confront Maxim and get back to MaryAnn. A sense of urgency was growing inside of him.

He had been expecting Vlad to condemn him. Maybe it would have been easier to face what he'd done if his prince had been angry. «I am sorry,» he said quietly. Sincerely. «I had no idea the plan would ever be implemented. I had no idea the Malinovs hated you so much. In the end we talked for hours, and Zacarias and Ruslan agreed that we all would remain loyal to you and serve you with honor. We took a blood oath.»

«You and your brothers have served our people faithfully,» Vlad said. «Even here we get news as warriors or vampires come.» He pushed through a wall of ferns. «Ah, here is Sarantha. My darling, I have brought a guest.»

Sarantha turned, her smile lighting her face, and her eyes brightening the dull colors around them. «Manolito. It is wonderful to see you, although I have heard rumors you walk in both worlds. How are my sons and their lifemates? How is my granddaughter? I understand she is quite lovely. You must tell me everything, all the news.» She hugged him, her body light and insubstantial against his. «You must have a lifemate or your spirit would not be so bright. Tell me about her.»

Vlad laughed. «Give him a chance to speak, my love. He is in a great hurry.»

«Forgive me. I am just so excited to see you.» She patted a spot by the campfire. «Do you have a few moments of your time to give to me?»

«Of course.» He leaned over to kiss her cheek. «Mikhail is a wonderful leader. You would be proud of him. His lifemate is a good match for him and is helping to lead our people back into a more cohesive society. Jacques and Shea have had a son, a boy. I was gone before the naming ceremony, so I do not know what they have called him. I heard that Savannah, your granddaughter, is expecting twins.»

Sarantha threw herself into Vlad's arms. «I wish we could see them.»

«Someday,» Vlad said, enfolding her close. «We will be united with our loved ones. We are moving from this life to the next very soon.»

She nodded and turned her face up to his to brush a small kiss along his chin. «And your lifemate, Manolito?

Tell us about her.»

«She is courageous. And beautiful. And she makes me want to be better with every rising.» Manolito frowned, wanting information without giving too much away. «Vlad, tell me what you know of the guardians. The werewolves.»

Vlad sank cross-legged to the ground. «Little is known of their society, although legends abound. I think they started most of the myths to keep people frightened and away from them, but then that backfired and they were hunted by humans. They live in human form most of the time. They exist on all continents, or did in ancient times. Few can ever tell them from humans.»

«How can they stay secret even from us?»

«They do not have brain function all that different from a human; they simply use more of the brain, as we do. Most of the time, the wolf stays silent within them, so they appear completely human.»

«What would happen to a wolf if he became Carpathian?»

«Cross the species?» Vlad glanced at Sarantha. «I do not know. I have never heard of such a thing.»

«Can it even be done?» Sarantha asked.

«I have no idea,» Manolito said. «But humans have been successfully brought into Carpathian society. As werewolves are psychic, it is theoretically possible.»

Vlad let his breath out. «I am glad it is not a decision I have to make. A wolf and a Carpathian. The combination might be lethal.»

«Or exciting,» Sarantha interjected. «Two species of equal power.»

«What would it do to the person? To their body and mind? What would they become?»

Vlad opened his mouth and closed it abruptly. «I see your dilemma.» And he did. Much more than Manolito might have wanted him to see. «I cannot help you. As far as I know, it has never been done. Both bloodlines are of equal power. I do not know which would emerge victorious, if either.»

«And what do you know of Xavier?»

Vlad sighed and reached for Sarantha's hand. «In truth, it is long since I had to make decisions for my people. I am grateful that I can simply exist without my choices having impact on anyone other than my lifemate. Even speaking of Xavier is difficult. He was a good friend. One I believed in. One I loved as a brother. He betrayed us as no other could have done.»

«Why?»

«Greed. Jealously. He wanted to be immortal. I tried to tell him there was no real immortality-after all, we too can be killed-but he came to believe he was superior and should have the kind of longevity we have. Unfortunately, all of our safeguards were founded on mage spells-spells he provided. Over the years we added to them, but the weave of energy is the same, and that made us-and still makes us-vulnerable to him.»

«When you were such good friends…»

«He wanted me to give him a Carpathian woman. I tried to explain about lifemates, but he refused to see reason. We had many arguments, and he became convinced that I was deliberately keeping him from being immortal because I feared his power. Eventually we began to separate our two societies, although he maintained the schools for our fledglings to learn. Rhiannon was one of his best students and he decided to keep her for himself. He had her lifemate murdered and he took her. He must have planned it for a long while, because she was Dragonseeker and few could have held her against her will, let alone got her pregnant. Yes. We have heard that he had children by her.» His fingers tightened around Sarantha's. «There was nothing I could do to stop him, and now he is trying to destroy our people.»

«He was evil then and he is now,» Manolito said. «He has banded with the Malinovs and is implementing the plan we devised. Now that we know what he is doing, Zacarias will take word to Mikhail and we will send out emissaries to each of our allies and try to stop him before he goes any further. But first, I have to stop Maxim.»

«Oh dear,» Sarantha looked at her lifemate. «Maxim is such a troublemaker. He cannot accept his mistakes. He refuses all responsibility, and until he atones in some way, until he learns, he cannot move on.'»

Manolito pushed himself to his feet. «I cannot stay longer. I fear for MaryAnn's safety. It was an honor to see you both.»

«I will come with you and see what I can do to help,» Vlad volunteered.

Manolito shook his head. «You know you cannot. This is my problem to solve. I am trapped in two worlds and cannot live in both. This is my burden alone, sir, but I thank you for wanting to shoulder it with me.» He gripped his prince's forearms in the time-honored manner and then leaned down to kiss Sarantha. «I will give your love to your family.»

«Be well, Manolito,» Sarantha said.

«Live large,» Vlad added.

Manolito strode back through the trees, looking back once for a glimpse of the leader of his people. Sarantha and Vlad had their arms around each other, their bodies giving off a faint glow of light that seemed to grow stronger, more blinding in the midst of the gray, dank world. The sight of them, so in love, so bound to each other, made him long for the same thing with MaryAnn. He sighed and resolutely turned back to face the path to the meadow. A slight wind blew through the leaves in the small grove of trees but failed to reach him, even when he lifted his face to try to feel the breeze.

How could he uncover Maxim's plan? The vampire would never trust him, never believe he had come over to his side. What was left? Vlad had said that the undead had devised ways to torture and drive one mad. How did you drive a spirit mad? Or for that matter, torture one? He frowned as he mulled it over. A war of the wits then. There could be no other answer. For good or evil, he had to risk everything for his people-and for MaryAnn. If he was wrong…

He shrugged and proceeded to the belching, steaming meadow where the veil of mist hung low and the bubbling pools of mud spit out dark, ugly stains. Maxim and his army of undead waited on the other side. He could see shadows moving in the dull gray of the mist, eyes glowing red and voices rising on the steam.

He streaked across the space, avoiding the plumes of steam and sudden hissing geysers as they spouted into the air, throwing more of the dark mud in all directions. He burst through the veil of mist, straight into the center of the vampire circle.

Maxim hissed his surprise and stopped dead, arms still raised in the air. The chanting faltered, and the others forming the circle around Maxim stepped back, covering their faces.

Maxim forced a smile, showing the pegs of his stained teeth. «I see you have returned to us, old friend. Join us in our little ceremony.»

«I certainly did not mean to interrupt you, Maxim. By all means, you and your friends continue with what you were doing.»

«You do not mind, then?» Maxim asked, with a faint, deadly smirk.

«No, of course not.» Manolito folded his arms across his chest.

Maxim raised his arms and began chanting once again. The vampires circling him moved their feet in a hypnotic pattern and began to lift their voices in a mesmerizing incantation.

Manolito deliberately walked around Maxim, studying him from every angle, watching the flow of his hands, committing each movement to memory.

Maxim sighed and dropped his arms. «What is it?»

«Carry on, Maxim. I am just contemplating where I have seen this particular spell used. I believe it is one of Xavier's earlier works, when he first was attempting to bind the shadow warriors to him. We studied him, remember? He was a brilliant man.»

«He is a brilliant man.»

«Not so much anymore,» Manolito said in disagreement. The other undead had once again stopped their chanting and were watching. «He has grown senile. He lives off the blood of our people, but he was never meant for longevity and his mind is going.» He stepped closer to Maxim and lowered his voice so only the master vampire could hear. «He no longer can produce new spells. He has to have others, lesser mages, do it for him.»

«You lie!» Maxim hissed. «I know you lie.»

«You know I do not,» Manolito replied calmly, once more circling Maxim. «You have always been of superior intelligence. I do not flatter you when I remind you of that. You could reason things out. Xavier lacks the ability to think of anything new. He relies heavily on the things he knew before, and I doubt he remembers much of that.» He stopped again on the vampire's other side and whispered in that ear. «Why do you think he seeks the book?» Xavier had compiled his spells into one book, now guarded by the prince of the Carpathians.

Maxim growled and swung his head back and forth, his eyes glowing with red-hot flames. «He is a powerful man.»

Manolito nodded and once more began walking in a circle, moving his feet in a dance pattern as he went, watching the master of the undead try to follow the intricate, hypnotic steps. «Very powerful. In spite of the fact that he no longer makes up his own spells, he is still a powerful mage. But he cannot do what he promises you and your brothers. He cannot open the portal to allow your army of the undead to come forth. That's why he has given you the ancient spell of the shadow warriors.»

Maxim continued to turn in a circle with him, following his every movement with suspicion. When Manolito

stopped and leaned in close, he automatically did the same.

«He knows Vikirnoff's lifemate can send the warriors back to their own realm. He was using her spells, and now he no longer has control of her. He's left with nothing, but dares not let Ruslan and your brothers know the truth. Of what use would he be then to them?» Before Maxim could answer, Manolito once more took off circling.

The vampire gripped his own head in agitation and screamed, the sound rubbing across nerves like sandpaper. «It does not matter, Manolito. Xavier did not figure out what to do; Ruslan did, and he is always right. Always. Zacarias was a fool to follow Vlad instead of Ruslan. We had a code, a blood oath, and you broke it.»

«Our blood oath was to one another and to the prince, Maxim. The De La Cruz family was always loyal to the Malinovs.»

«We gave you the opportunity to join us. We talked all night of it. You insisted on following the prince and his murdering son.» Maxim spat out the last words, his face contorted with hatred and rage. He stepped up toe-to-toe, staring Manolito in the eyes, so that the red flames burning in his sunken eye sockets were plainly visible. «Betrayer,» he accused. «You deserve to die.»

Manolito didn't flinch away from the foul stench of Maxim's breath or the savage hatred on his face. «I did die. How else would I be here?»

«You went back, and that means it is possible. Xavier will find a way to return me to the others or he will die a long, painful death. He knows not to betray us. Our memories are long, and you will suffer for your betrayal.»

«Will I?»

Maxim's fury erupted so strong there was no containing it. He threw back his head and howled, reaching to seize Manolito's shoulders with his claws, the talons piercing deep and tearing through the flesh so that blood ran and the other vampires erupted into a frenzy, racing forward in an attempt to lick at the dark red streams.

For one moment, pain burst through him, bright and hot, twisting his gut and beating at his brain, but Manolito quelled his body's reaction and stayed perfectly still as the vampires swarmed around him. He shoved down his revulsion and smiled at Maxim, his gaze calm. «Do you think to trick me so easily? It is an illusion. Nothing more. You cannot kill what is already dead. I have no body in this place. These fools want to believe, but even they can only taste the dirt on the ground as they root around.»

Contempt on his face, he touched one with his foot as the undead clawed at the barren ground. The noise was hideous as they all tried in vain to get to fresh blood. Growls and hisses, animals gone mad. «This is what you have been reduced to, Maxim? You were once a great man, and now you wallow like swine in a pen.»

Screaming with rage, Maxim struck him repeatedly in the face, shredding flesh with his long yellow nails. It was difficult to stand still under the attack, to keep his mind from believing what was happening was real. Flesh appeared to fly in all directions. Blood splattered everywhere.

Manolito kept his arms loosely at his sides and forced the smile to remain, even when the other vampires went mad, trying to shove bits of his flesh into their mouths, going so far as to sink teeth into his shoulders and chest. It was one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his life, standing there while the undead gathered around him in a feeding frenzy, tearing the flesh from his bones and trying to eat him alive.

He kept his mind fixed on MaryAnn. He thought of her smile, her hair, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed. Ah, the sound of her laughter was warm and bright in his mind, drowning out the sound of the vampires tearing at him. He fixed his mind on every detail of her body and the way she wore her so-fashionable clothes. Her red heels and her soft boots. Even here, in this land that made no sense, she came to his rescue, keeping her courageous image between him and madness.

«Enough!» Maxim shouted and waved the vampires away from Manolito. The undead obeyed reluctantly, some crawling along the ground trying to scoop up flesh and blood and getting only handfuls of the alkaline dirt. Some caught Maxim's legs and fawned, begging for more, their faces smeared with mud. He kicked them away from him impatiently and glared at Manolito. «Get the sneer off your face.»

«I am not sneering, Maxim. I feel only pity for the creature who used to be my friend and was once a great man. Now you are content to serve these worthless ones. You have become worm fodder by your own hand. And you have lost the one thing that mattered-your keen intelligence. How could a man with a brain as sharp as yours ever believe a word Xavier said? It makes no sense that you or Ruslan-or any of your brothers for that matter-would waste your time on him.»

Manolito was careful to keep the flattery to a minimum as he brought the vampire's focus back to the mage. Maxim was cunning, and he would notice if Manolito went overboard. He kept his tone very cool and slightly filled with contempt, which he knew would grate on Maxim.

The master vampire sucked in his breath, the air whistling between the jagged pegs of his teeth. Manolito could see him struggling for control, for dignity. He stepped away, placing his hands behind his back and schooling his face into even lines.

«You are mistaken about Xavier, Manolito. He will bring my army through the portal and no one will be able to defeat us. You cannot fight the dead.» He laughed without mirth as if he were very amusing.

Around them the other vampires began to pull themselves together, following Maxim's example, opening their mouths wide to let out sounds that were a terrible parody of laughter. The din was grating, a wild screeching that echoed through Manolito's head and set his teeth clenching. He forced a flash of his teeth, keeping his gaze fixed on Maxim's, trying to read whatever was behind that evil mask.

«Do you really believe that, Maxim? Do you think Xavier has the power to bring you back? He created the shadow-warrior spell when he was at his peak. Now he is an old worm, feeding on the blood of young children and claiming lesser mages' magic. Do you really believe he can bring you out of here?»

«You. You are going to bring us out,» Maxim snapped, the truth spilling explosively. Spittle sprayed from his mouth and the flames in his eyes leapt even higher. «So smug like always, little man. That is what you really are. Your brothers knew the truth. You are a little man who whines to become someone of importance. You think to fight us, but you cannot. You never could. You dared to enter my world, and you had the opportunity once again to join us. Twice I have given you the chance.»

«You wanted me to slay my lifemate.»

«You would have joined our ranks and served me. With your brains, we could have gone far, but you never could see the bigger picture. You wanted to fawn on that fool Dubrinsky. And you never understood, not even Zacarias understood: Vlad Dubrinsky betrayed you for his son. He betrayed all of us for his son.»

Manolito stiffened, his mind racing. The answer was right in front of him if he could just fit the pieces of the puzzle together. Maxim wanted to tell him, wanted to show his superiority; Manolito just had to have patience and lead him in that direction. «Do you think your childish taunts are going to impress me the way they do your ridiculous dogs?» Deliberately his gesture took in the vampires desperate for Maxim's attention.

«I am a hunter. I have been a hunter for a thousand years. You have become amusing, the greatness in you long gone. You turned yourself into a puppet for the likes of Xavier.»

Maxim looked as if he might explode. His eyes spun in the deep sockets, glowing red orange and yellow. He spewed venom from between his teeth, the acid landing on Manolito's skin, where it sizzled and smoked.

Manolito remained stoic beneath the attack, never blinking, never changing expression, simply watching Maxim with that same small smile of contempt that continued to get under the vampire's skin.

«You know nothing. Nothing. You also thought your intellect superior to everyone's. You and your precious brothers. Zacarias ordering us to follow that murdering, sniveling prince. Dubrinsky could have a female killed, but not his own son, and the De La Cruz brothers follow like puppies.»

Manolito rolled his shoulders in a casual shrug. «Like you are doing with Xavier. Believing in his lies. He does not want to be fodder for the undead. He will tell you whatever you want to hear.»

«I saw the portal,» Maxim snapped. «And she will return. You are the conduit. She will come for you when she hears you screaming.»

Manolito felt his heart jump, but he kept his expression the same, careful to keep his gaze filled with contempt and not blink at the revelation. He had expected it, but hearing it brought fear for MaryAnn. He pushed emotion down somewhere deep and faced the master vampire. «It will be interesting to see you do that.»

«At this very moment my puppets do my bidding, attacking her while your body lies vulnerable. We will burn it and there will be no hope for your return. She will hear you screaming and she will merge with you fully as she did before. Once she is here, we can use her living spirit to return.»

Manolito tasted fear now, but he forced his heart to beat with an easy rhythm. «And just how do you intend to make me scream, Maxim? So far you have failed utterly.»

Maxim smirked. «There is only one capable of following every path of communication.» He waved his arms, satisfaction glowing in his eyes. «Meet Draven Dubrinsky, Mikhail's older brother.»

Manolito turned, and Vlad's son stood behind him, glowing with the power of his family's legacy, his eyes bright with hatred, his handsome face twisted with malice.

«She will come for you,» he agreed. He stood tall, his arms out from his side, and Manolito felt the power of his mind-merge the moment it hit him.

Chapter Seventeen

M

ted

5»

The vampire crashed through what remained of the barrier surrounding MaryAnn, shredding Manolito's safeguards. The creature's talons were extended in an effort to reach Manolito's body as it sat on the deck high in the canopy. The werewolf met the undead in midair, the two slamming together, the wolf driving the

vampire backward with the force of her forward momentum. Like a child protecting a cub, she slashed relentlessly at the vampire as they fell together.

They dropped toward the forest floor, the wolf on top of the undead, the two writhing forms breaking branches as the vampire hit bough after bough with his back as they fell one hundred and fifty feet. All around them the jungle came alive with the noise of the battle, the shriek of hundreds of birds, the cries of the monkeys, the growls of the vampire and the crack of splintering wood as they plummeted the distance.

The vampire clamped his spikes of teeth into the wolf's shoulder and tore, savaging with talons, raking at the wolf's belly. MaryAnn felt the talons digging deep; she could even hear the sound of flesh and fur being torn from the wolf. Her stomach lurched, but the wolf knocked the head aside, tearing the teeth from her shoulder, ignoring the blossoming pain as flesh shredded and blood spattered across the leaves.

The vampire hit the ground, half-formed, trying to dissolve out from under the wolf, but MaryAnn's guardian was relentless, teeth driving for the throat, claws digging through the chest wall for the withered, blackened heart. It was instinctive, an age-old legacy passed in collective memory from one generation to the next. Deep inside where nothing could touch her, MaryAnn vowed never to go anywhere without her pepper spray. The wolf could have blinded the vampire with it and at least given herself a reprieve from those terrible teeth.

She landed on top of the vampire, and they rolled, the vampire hissing, its breath fetid. The creature reeked of decaying flesh, offending the wolf's acute sense of smell. The vampire grabbed the wolf and threw it, taking the opportunity to dissolve into vapor and stream upward toward the deck on the canopy.

MaryAnn's heart crashed against her chest. She heard herself screaming, tried to reach, tried to take over the body so she could get to Manolito, but the wolf was already in motion, leaping up the tree branches with incredible speed, springing for the vampire as he reformed beside Manolito's body. This time the wolf caught the vampire's head in her claws and wrenched. The vampire's neck snapped and the head flopped to one side. Growling, eyes glowing with hot rage, the creature lowered his shoulder and drove the wolf backward, once again taking them over the edge of the railing.

MaryAnn felt herself falling, felt the slam of branches against her back, but all the while the wolf was in control, muzzle burrowing toward the prize of the undead's heart. Blood coated the wolf's body, burning like acid, searing bone-deep, but the guardian refused to stop. In desperation, the vampire threw himself off the wolf, and both landed hard on the ground.

Riordan De La Cruz materialized out of the air, just as the vampire lurched to his feet. Riordan slammed his fist deep into the chest of the vampire and ripped out the heart. Tossing it to one side, he whirled to face the wolf. The guardian staggered as she managed to stand, shaking with the pain and trauma of her injuries.

Riordan lifted an eyebrow. «MaryAnn?»

The wolf nodded and reached behind her for support, leaning against a tree. She nodded toward the heart as it rolled toward the vampire's body.

«Yes, of course,» Riordan reached toward the sky, covering his shock. At once storm clouds boiled and thunder rolled. Lightning veined the darker clouds and then slammed into the heart and incinerated it. Next he directed the white-hot energy toward the vampire's body.

To MaryAnn's astonishment, her wolf leaned into the crackling energy stream. Rather than incinerating her, the energy dissolved the acid-laced blood from her arms and body. Staggering back, the guardian once more leaned against the tangled roots of a tree, her sides heaving, breath coming in ragged gasps. Pain burned through her body, but she had kept Manolito alive. She couldn't wait another moment to check on him. To touch him. She needed him desperately.

Leaping to the lower branches of the tall tree, she climbed her way to the deck. Manolito was still sitting, his body a little slumped to one side, but he looked as if he were resting. She let out her breath and sank down beside him.

MaryAnn reached for her body, thanking the sentinel, grateful for the aid it had provided. She could never have defeated the vampire in her more fragile human body. It gave her a sense of gratitude to the other species who shared the world with her, thankful that they cared enough to keep everyone as safe as possible. The wolf made her feel safe.

You are the wolf, the feminine voice inside assured her.

MaryAnn closed her eyes and expanded, drawing the guardian deeper into her soul. This time the process was much faster, as the wolf leapt for its den and she emerged, with much more ease than she had let go. Her body reshaped with a minimum of distress, although the moment she was in her human form, the pain of her wounds escalated until tears burned and she bit down hard on her lip to keep from moaning.

«I have destroyed the jaguar and mage as well, and cleaned up the mess the vampire's blood caused in the soil and on the trees and foliage, so I am coming up.»

MaryAnn didn't understand the warning in Riordan's voice for a moment, until she looked down at her body. She needed clothes. She had no clothes. Panic rose. Her clothes were her armor. Her courage. Her fashion sense got her through everything. She couldn't face him without clothes on. She actually began to hyperventilate.

«No! You can't come up here. I'm not dressed.»

He muttered something in his impatient tone, and she found herself in a faded plaid shirt, loose-fitting jeans and very old sneakers. Then he was standing in front of her, frowning.

«I am going to have to heal your wound. I will need to take a look at it. Vampires have been leaving little parasites behind lately when they bite.»

She barely heard him, too busy staring down at her clothes in dismay. «I know you don't think I'm going to be wearing these-these…» She trailed off, her fingertips holding the hem of the shirt out while she looked up at him, appalled.

His frown deepened to a scowl. «Those are called clothes.»

«Oh, no they're not. Rags maybe.» She patted her tight braid to make certain it was still intact. She might be fighting vampires and jaguars, but she was going to look good doing it. «These are not clothes.» Moving her arm, when her shoulder was already on fire, had her wincing visibly. Of course he saw it. He was far more interested in the vampire bite than her fashion problem.

Riordan crouched down to examine his brother. «Juliette never worries about her clothes. She just wears whatever.»

«I'm well aware that girl needs a serious makeover,» MaryAnn said. In more ways than one. Juliette also needed a few counseling sessions on dealing with overbearing men.

Riordan glanced up at her, and his smile made her breath catch in her lungs. For just one moment, in that sliver of moonlight, he had looked like his brother. The flash was there and then it was gone, and her desperation to be with Manolito grew.

Riordan straightened slowly, as the smile faded from MaryAnn's face. «You did well. I owe you a tremendous debt. Our entire family does, MaryAnn. Thank you for saving my brother's life.»

The sincerity in his voice was her undoing. If she'd been wearing her best clothes, she could have handled it all with dignity, but no, he had to put her in some horrible, wretched outfit and she just crumpled under the pressure. She heard herself blubber. He looked alarmed and even took a step back, holding up one hand.

«Don't cry. That was a compliment. Don't start crying. Your shoulder must be hurting. Let me take a look at it.»

«It's the clothes.» She hiccupped. «Change them fast.»

«Give me a picture, then.»

He sounded as desperate as she felt. She could not stand here sobbing like a baby when Manolito was facing that other world and whatever lay within it. She had to get to him. For some reason, just the thought of that spirit place gave her chills. She took a deep breath and pictured herself wearing her favorite Versace jeans, Dolce &, Gabbana tobacco-colored, jersey halter top with gold leather straps and draped neckline that lay artfully over her breasts, and her favorite boots, the Michael Kors, simply because they were so stylish and comfortable and went with everything. Accessories were everything, so she went all the way and added the braided belt and chunky bracelet and necklace she'd always wanted but couldn't afford.

She took a deep breath and let it out as soon as the clothes settled onto her skin, fitting her like a glove, providing her with her suit of courage to face the next challenge. «Thanks, Riordan. This is perfect.»

She expected him to give her his little sneer, but instead he studied her appearance with care. «You do look wonderful. I thought you looked fine in the other clothes, but these suit you somehow.»

She smiled, feeling a little camaraderie with him for the first time. «Thanks for getting here so fast. I didn't know what to do with that thing. He just kept coming at me.» She shook her head, frowning. «Well. Not me. My guardian.»

«The wolf.»

He said it with respect, and her heart lightened even more. MaryAnn realized what that meant. She was the wolf. It dwelled in her, silent and waiting, emerging when needed, content to stay quiet unless compelled to action. She was the sentinel, and the animals around her recognized the guardian in her for what it was. And they respected her. Riordan respected her. But more, they accepted her for who and what she was.

«You are Manolito's lifemate,» Riordan said. «And you more than meet every expectation.» He bowed low, a courtly gesture of respect. «He could not have found better. You keep many secrets, little sister.»

She felt the grin spread across her face; she couldn't help it. «The wolf? She comes out upon occasion and kicks serious butt.» She felt so proud saying it, so matter-of-factly. The wolf. Her wolf.

«I had no idea there were any lycans left in this world. Now I think they are far cleverer than any of us gave them credit for. Of course they still exist, and we should have known that. They were always content to stay in the background.»

She leaned against the railing, swaying a little. «I was hoping when they got hurt they could just heal themselves the way you do. And I would have liked the ability to produce clothes with my imagination. There are a few lines I can't afford, but I sure can imagine myself wearing them.»

He caught her arm to steady her, lowering her until she was sitting beside Manolito once again. «I have good news for you, MaryAnn. Manolito is quite wealthy, and you will be able to afford whatever line of clothing you prefer. It is good to keep the illusion of being entirely human at all times, but if you need, once fully Carpathian, you will be able to manufacture clothing at will.»

Her heart jumped when he said that. Fully Carpathian. She still had to deal with that. And she wanted to be with Manolito De La Cruz forever. He was going to drive her insane with his arrogance, and he was going to have to learn what it was like living with a woman who was every bit as stubborn as he.

«Do you understand what that means?» Riordan asked.

«Not really. How could I?» Whatever he was doing to her shoulder was taking her breath away. It hurt like hell, and she was really glad she could stare down at her perfect boots and admire the square toe and really nice leather.

«You will be wholly Carpathian. Juliette was upset to lose her jaguar. She can call her cat, shifting into the shape and feel of it, but it is not the same. She doesn't feel a sense of loss, but I know it was difficult when she first thought of it as a loss.»

«Really? I'm more concerned with losing my family. My grandparents and parents are very important to me. I don't much care for the idea of watching my friends and family die.»

Riordan didn't know that her blood was infecting Manolito with the wolf, just as his blood was giving her the traits of Carpathians. Her fingers slid into the long, thick hair of her lifemate. She tasted the word and the depth of its meaning. He was hers. As much as she belonged to him, he belonged to her. Whatever was happening to her was also happening to him. What would Riordan have to say about that? How accepting would he be then?

She rubbed at her pounding temples. «Did you hear anything?» She looked around her, raised her face and sniffed the air. How often had she done that and never realized why? How often had she reached into people's minds without being aware she was doing so to extract the information she needed in order to help them? And the animals… She looked around her at the monkeys in the trees. They had all come to her aid when she needed them. Even the jaguar, under the enthrallment of the vampire; had fought to break the spell and do her bidding.

«The wolf is good,» she said with satisfaction.

«Of course. What did you think?»

«Monster with teeth tearing apart the screaming teen with his claws and devouring the entire family while the littlest one looks on from the closet vowing to kill the hairy beast someday.»

Riordan snorted, his brief smile of amusement fading as fast as it had appeared. «It can happen. There are a few who go rogue, but the wolf society, in the past, and I suspect now, always did a good job of policing their own kind. They live as humans, at least they used to prefer that, usually near the forest or jungle, or they took jobs with animals to help protect them. They rarely revealed themselves unless there was extreme danger to someone under their protection. Their numbers were dwindling even before ours. They were too spread out, the packs not close enough to interbreed, and we suspected they tried to breed with humans but weren't successful and eventually their species died out.»

«Why would you think that their blood wouldn't convert a human?»

«We didn't think Carpathian blood could successfully convert a human. Juliette thinks that over the years, more humans than we realized had blood of the other species in them as well, maybe not much, but still, genetically they are probably linked.»

«But you think the wolf blood isn't as strong as the Carpathian blood and that Manolito will convert me with no problem?»

She felt more than saw Riordan's hesitation. «I know he must convert you or he will not survive.»

«That's not what I asked you.» She pulled away from him so she could see his eyes. «What are you afraid of?»

«I do not know what will happen when he converts you,» Riordan answered honestly as he reached one more time to examine the bite mark. The area was burned from the blood and saliva, as well as raw and torn. She was shaking, but didn't seem to realize it. Her fingers bunched in Manolito's hair as if he was her anchor, but she didn't seem aware of that either. «When I converted Juliette, the jaguar fought hard for life.»

«Manolito converted Luiz.»

«Luiz was dying. It was the only chance the jaguar had of survival. A small part of him lives, just as a small part of Juliette's jaguar lives within her, but it isn't the same, and although they can take the shape of a jaguar, they are not the jaguar. Does that make sense?»

Her heart jumped. She liked her wolf. She was proud of it. And somehow, although she'd only just found out about it, the guardian had been there all along, shaping her life, helping her without her knowledge. She didn't want to be anything else. She thought of herself as human. Maybe Juliette was right and most humans did have a genetic connection to some of the other species, but whatever the reason, she liked who she was, was comfortable in her own skin, and she didn't want to change, not if it meant letting go of who she was. What she was. Not if she had to let go of her newly found wolf.

But could she give up Manolito? Let him die? Let him turn vampire? «He can't turn vampire when he knows he has a lifemate, can he? If I don't become what you are?» Her heart thudded in time to the pounding in her head. She wasn't certain which hurt worse, her head or her shoulder. The vampire wound burned clear to her bone.

She suddenly needed to touch Manolito's mind. To merge with him. She fought the urge, knowing he didn't want her to come into the shadow land with him, but it was difficult when she needed his touch so much. She almost couldn't breathe, laboring to find a way to draw the air into her lungs. Was it her? Or was it him? Was he in trouble?

«Of course he could go mad with need. It is worse to know one's lifemate is there and one still cannot be saved. He will do what is necessary, MaryAnn, and in the end, you will be glad that he did.»

She hurt everywhere now, her back and legs and arms, as if someone had beaten her. «I need him.» She admitted it and should have been ashamed, but all she could think about was getting to him.

Riordan frowned. Tiny pinpoints of blood dotted her forehead. It was unlike MaryAnn to let a statement like he had made go without rebuttal, and she never would have admitted her need of Manolito to him. Something was very wrong. He had to make certain the tainted blood wasn't spreading through her system like poison. «Just relax. I am going to heal you in the way of our people.»

She took a breath and leaned closer to Manolito, needing the warmth of his touch, the feel of him close to her, but he felt cold, lifeless, his spirit a great distance from his physical body. «I have to go to him.»

«Breathe. Let me do this. He would want me to.» Riordan kept his voice as soothing as possible. MaryAnn had had too much to contend with in the last few days. She looked worn out, and by tomorrow night, when they next arose, in spite of what he would do here, she was going to feel the effects of crashing through branches to the ground.

He took a breath and released his body, allowing his physical self to drop away so he could become the necessary healing light of energy. He entered her body to survey the damage. The vampire had purposely infected her blood. He had not ripped and torn big chunks of flesh away; rather he had punctured deep with his razor-sharp teeth, using a sawing motion to inject thousands of tiny parasites into her bloodstream. Why? Why not try for a kill? The wolf was unexpected, but that should have pushed the vampire to defend himself with even more vigor.

The vampire had gone for the most damage he could inflict, rather than for a kill. The jugular was left intact. He had raked and torn at the wolf's belly, bit the shoulder, but not a single wound was a kill target. No vampire had that kind of control during a life-and-death battle-not unless he was programmed. And who could manipulate a vampire, even a lesser vampire, when his life was at stake? By nature, vampires were selfish and cunning. Riordan observed the parasites teaming in MaryAnn's bloodstream with dismay.

He entered his own body. «This may take a little while. Are you feeling sick?» He hadn't detected poison, so the vampire hadn't injected a lethal chemical into her.

«It can't take too long. We have to help Manolito.»

He studied her face. Aside from looking so weary, she didn't appear to be alarmed, so she didn't know. He would bet his life the wolf did. «Rest,» he advised, more for the wolf than for her. Because the wolf was going to be needed later; he was certain of that.

MaryAnn closed her eyes and leaned her head against Manolito's shoulder. Riordan stood over her, shedding his body so that he could fight the battle against the parasites the vampire had left behind.

Manolito stared in shock at Draven Dubrinsky. The man was long dead. Why hadn't Vlad warned him that his son resided in the meadow of mists and shadows? Draven, like his father and Mikhail, was a vessel for the power of the Carpathian people. He would know the exact tone, the exact path, mind-to-mind, even of lifemates.

Manolito's heart jumped, his belly knotted, but he kept his pulse steady and strong, his features expressionless. His first thought was to warn MaryAnn. To do that, he would have to merge with her. Would that pull her into the world enough that Maxim would be able to grab her?

He let his breath out slowly, keeping his mind away from MaryAnn, blocking her out so that if Draven touched his mind, he wouldn't be able to find her, or even a hint of a path to her. She wasn't Carpathian. Draven couldn't automatically search her out as he might a full-blooded Carpathian female.

He refused to look at the son of Dubrinsky, choosing to keep the battle between him and Maxim. He knew the Malinovs, and he was more than willing to match wits if that was what it took to keep the Carpathians safe. «You cannot drag, her into this world through me. Not with the likes of him.»

«Do not be so sure of yourself, Manolito. That was always your downfall. You and all your brothers.» Bitter contempt curled in Maxim's voice. «How do you think your woman will fair against one of our most powerful?» His laughter was soft and mocking. «I do not think so well.»

Manolito frowned as the rain forest closed in around him. He saw MaryAnn sitting beside his physical body, knees drawn up, one hand twisted in his hair. There was blood on her shoulder and down the front of her. Her shirt was torn. He couldn't see her face, bur she seemed to trust the man standing so close to her. Riordan. His brother. Bending close to examine the wounds.

He should have looked protective, but there was a furtive, cunning quality about him as he stood over her, like predator over prey. He turned his head and smiled at Manolito. Riordan's face blurred and became that of Kirja, one of Maxim's brothers.

Manolito's heart nearly stopped. He held himself still, afraid of moving, of triggering the attack on MaryAnn. Everything in him told him to reach for her, to warn her…

Maxim leaned close. «Humans are so easily fooled.»

Manolito closed his eyes as relief swept through him. «I do not think so. And as I recall, my brother Rafael ripped Kirja's heart from his body and sent him to the deepest pits of whatever hell is waiting for the likes of him.» A human might not sense the danger, but the wolf would. A guardian would have sprung forth instantly had a vampire been attacking MaryAnn.

«I hope you are certain.»

With that, Kirja knocked MaryAnn aside and, in one quick motion, slit Manolito's throat where he sat so helplessly. MaryAnn cried out and tried to crawl away, but the vampire dragged her back by her ankles, flipping her over and ripping the clothes from her body. He kicked her ribs viciously and then bent down to punch her relentlessly in the face. She rolled away, and he grabbed her by her hair and dragged her over to Manolito, holding her there while he forced her to watch him lapping at the blood pulsing from her lifemate's throat.

Manolito discovered there were far worse things than physical torture. He told himself it wasn't really MaryAnn, but his eyes and brain refused to believe him. He told himself Kirja was long dead and gone from the living world, but the blood and screams were all too real. He shuddered as Kirja continued to beat her. He felt his stomach rebel when the vampire committed further perversions on her, every atrocity Maxim could think of, and he could think of many.

Manolito had no way to stop the images, so he tried to shut down his emotions. There was no way. In this land, he was meant to feel emotions-they all were-and the emotions were amplified a thousand times. He knew now how the undead could drive a spirit mad. He couldn't compartmentalize; he had to feel every blow, every sick, disgusting thing MaryAnn had to endure. His lungs burned for air. His hands trembled. He curled his fingers into a fist to… what? They had no bodies. This was a mind game. They were waiting for him to break. The hope was that he would merge with MaryAnn to check on her, to ease his own suffering.

He shook his head. «I will never let you have her, Maxim, no matter what you do to me. No matter what you show to me.»

Kirja plunged his fist into MaryAnn's chest and pulled out her heart, holding it high in the air while she screamed. Manolito's body jerked, but he stood impassive. If his fate was to endure the next centuries feeling her pain and watching her torture, he would do so. They could not have her. It may have been only minutes, or hours-time meant little in this place-but it seemed lifetimes, centuries, watching the other half of his soul being forced to endure whatever Kirja, Maxim or Draven conceived. The sound of MaryAnn's pleas and screams, the images of her torture were burned forever into his heart, his mind and even deeper into his soul.

«He cannot love her to stand there like that,» Draven said. «Any man would break if he saw his true lifemate so brutally handled.»

Manolito looked through him. Draven Dubrinsky would never know what love was. Manolito knew. He felt it in every blow of Kirja's hand, every kick of his feet, every touch on MaryAnn's body. An illusion. All illusion.

He forced a smile when he could feel blood running down his body in rivers of sweat. That, too, was an illusion. «A game, Maxim, that is all. You play games with me and you know I will never break. You know me So keep it up if you must, but it seems childish, even for you.»

Maxim snarled, showing his pegs for teeth, and waved the illusion away.

«Acknowledge me,» Draven snarled, already furious that the Carpathian male wouldn't look at him.

«I have no wish to speak with you, see you or in any way render you real,» he said, watching Maxim more than Draven. Vlad's son had power, but it was Maxim who had the cunning and the hatred enough to return to destroy the Carpathian people.

«I find it-distasteful-Maxim, that you would choose to spend time with one such as this. He caused the death of our beloved sister. You may have embraced him, but I do not wish to spend time with him. Do not think I fear one such as this reject from the Dubrinskv lineage. Long ago I would have welcomed the chance to take his life. It would have been nothing against the loss of one such as Ivory, but still, I would have welcomed it, as you should have, Maxim.»

He kept his gaze fixed firmly on Maxim, his tone dripping with contempt.

Maxim growled, spittle running down his chin as he swung his head from side to side in a threatening manner. «Do not use that condescending attitude with me. Your disloyalty proved long ago whose side you were on.»

For the first time, Manolito allowed a whip of anger to seep into his voice, and he lashed Maxim with it. «Do not dare use the term disloyal when your sister's murderer stands at your side. You have sunk lower than I thought possible, becoming the dog for this foul abomination. Crawl on your knees to him, Maxim, like those who seek your approval. Lick his boots if you must. I have no further business with you, not when this…» Deliberately he waved his hand toward Draven. «This… piece of garbage is your master.»

«I am royalty,» Draven snapped. «You should be on your knees to me.»

Manolito didn't bother to spare him a glance. He kept his gaze locked with Maxim's as he conjured up a picture in his mind of Ivory. For him, she was as fresh and as pure as the last time he'd seen her, her memory such a part of him it would never fade. He sent it along the path of their blood bond. Ivory with her laughter and her bright soul shining. Ivory flinging her arms around Maxim and kissing his cheek. Ivory standing outside the Malinov home, sword in hand, blindfolded in the middle of the circle of her five brothers and the De La Cruz brothers as they taught her to fight.