Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

hungry, needed to feed. He bent to brush her forehead with his mouth, his heart aching.
    "Just for one day, little one, I would like to have a normal, happy conversation with you. Court you as I should."
    She tilted her head to look at him, her blue eyes dark with emotion. "You court me just fine. Go eat now and leave me be."
    Mikhail touched her hair just once before he left.
    He moved among the townspeople, breathing in the night. The stars seemed brighter, the moon a gleaming silver light. Colors were sharp and clear, smells drifting on the breeze. Wisps of fog trailed here and there in the street. He felt like singing. He had found her after so long and she made the earth move and his blood heat. She brought laughter back into his life and taught him what love was.
    The hour was growing late, the couples drifting toward their homes. Mikhail chose a trio of young men.
    He was hungry and needed strength. The night would be long. He had every intention of confirming or eliminating Mrs. Romanov as one of the assassins. The women needed a midwife and a sorrowing, bereaved one was better than one who might betray them at the first opportunity.
    He drew the trio to him with a single silent command, marveling, as he had so many times, at how easy it was to control his prey. He joined their conversation, laughing with them, confiding a couple of hot business opportunities. In their early twenties, they were thinking more about women than making money.
    It always amazed him how disrespectful human men were toward their women. Perhaps they could not understand what their lives would be like without them.
    He led them to the safety of the darkened trees and drank his fill, making certain not to take too much from any of them. He finished as he did everything, carefully, completely. That was why he was the oldest and the most formidable. He paid attention to the smallest of details. He walked with them for a few more minutes, ensuring that they were all fine before leaving them with a casual wave and a feeling of friendship.
    Mikhail turned away from them, the smile fading from his lips. The night concealed the hunter in him, the dark, terrible purpose in his eyes, the cruel edge to his sensuous mouth. His muscles rippled with raw power, flexed and contracted with his enormous strength. He moved around the corner and simply Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    disappeared. His speed was incredible, without compare.
    His mind reached out for Raven's, craving the contact. What are you doing all alone in that spooky old house?
    Her soft laughter filled his utter coldness with warmth. Waiting for my big bad wolf to come home.
    Do you have your clothes on?
    This time her response sent fingers playing over his skin, touching him intimately, heating his body.
    Warmth, laughter, purity. He hated being away from her, hated the distance separating them. Of course I have my clothes on! What if more unexpected visitors arrive? I can't very well greet them naked, can I?
    She was teasing, but the thought of anyone approaching his home with her alone and unprotected made a sliver of fear slice through him. It was an unfamiliar emotion and he almost couldn't identify it.
    Mikhail? Are you all right? Do you need me? I'll come to you.
    Stay there. Listen for the wolves. If they sing to you, call me right away.
    There was that brief hesitation that meant she was annoyed with his tone. I don't want you to worry about me, Mikhail. You have enough people who make demands on you.
    Perhaps that is so, little one, but you are the only one I truly give a damn about. And drink another glass of juice. You will find some in the refrigerator. He broke the contact, found he was smiling at their brief exchange. She would have argued over the order for nourishment if he had waited long enough. He rather liked to irritate her sometimes. He liked the way her blue eyes deepened into sapphire, and how she got that little edge in her carefully controlled voice.
    Mikhail? Her voice startled him, low and warm and filled with feminine amusement. Try making suggestions next time, or just plain asking. You go do whatever it is you're doing, and I'll go search your extensive library for a book on manners.
    He nearly forgot he was crouched at the base of a tree only a few hundred feet from the shack belonging to Hans and Heidi Romanov. Mikhail managed to suppress his urge to laugh. You will not find one.
    Why am I not surprised