Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

Father Hummer's natural worry. If she could do it, Margaret could. Making up her mind, Raven caught up her jacket, brushed at the tears on her face, and led the way down the stairs before she changed her mind. The most important thing for her at that moment was to protect Mikhail. The need was elemental, part of her soul.
    Once outside, Raven zipped her jacket to her chin. She had changed to her faded jeans and a college sweatshirt the moment she had returned to her room. Fog was everywhere, thick, only a foot or so from the ground. It was very cold. She glanced at the priest. His English might be a bit halting, but intelligence and integrity shone on his weathered features and in the faded blue of his eyes. He was cold from the time spent on the balcony. The priest was too old to be dragged from the warmth of his cottage to do such a task in the middle of the night.
    She pushed back stray tendrils of hair as she forced herself to walk calmly through the village. It should have been peaceful, but she carried the knowledge that a group of fanatical people was murdering those they believed to be vampires. Inside her heart was aching and heavy. Her mind needed the reassurance of a mind touch with Mikhail. She glanced at the older man beside her. His walk was brisk, his manner restful, soothing. This was a man long ago at peace with himself and those around him.
    "You're certain he's alive?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, just when she was so proud of herself for appearing normal.
    "Absolutely, child. He gave me the impression that he would be gone this day until nightfall without the usual means of contacting him." He grinned at her, a conspirator's grin. "Personally, I use his pager.
    Gadgets fascinate me. When I visit him, I play on his computer as often as I can. Once I locked the thing up and it took him a while to figure out what I did to it." He was absurdly pleased with that. "Of course, you understand, I could have told him, but it would have taken all the fun out of it."
    Raven laughed; she couldn't help herself. "At last, a man after my own heart. I'm glad someone besides myself gives him a hard time. He needs it, you know. All those people bowing and scraping. It's not good for him." Her hands were freezing so she shoved them into her pockets.
    "I do my best, Raven," the priest admitted, "but we don't need to be telling him. Some things are best kept between us."
    She smiled at him, relaxing just a little. "I agree with you on that. How long have you known Mikhail?" If Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    she couldn't reach out to him, touch him, maybe she could soothe the gaping raw wound of emptiness by talking about him. She found she was beginning to feel angry at Mikhail. He should have prepared her for this.
    The priest looked toward the forest, toward Mikhail's home, then raised his eyes heavenward. He had known Mikhail since his own youth, when he'd been a green priest, sent straight from his homeland to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Of course, he had been moved around since, but he was semiretired now, and they let him go where he wanted, the place he had grown to love.
    Her blue eyes were sharp as they studied him. "I don't want to put you in the position of having to lie, Father. I find myself doing enough of that for Mikhail, and I'm not even certain why. Lord knows, he doesn't ask me to." There was sorrow in her voice, regret, confusion.
    "I wouldn't lie," he said.
    "Is omission the same thing as a lie, Father?" Tears made her eyes luminous, sparkling on her long lashes.
    "Something is happening to me, something I don't understand, and it terrifies me."
    "Do you love him?"
    She could hear the sound of their footsteps loud in the silence of the predawn hours. Their hearts beat steadily, their blood pumping in their veins. As she passed houses, she could hear snoring, creaks, rustles, the sound of a couple making love. Her fingers sought and found Mikhail's ring as if it was a talisman. She covered it carefully with her palm, as if she could hold Mikhail there.
    Did she love him? Everything in her was fascinated, exhilarated by Mikhail. Certainly the physical chemistry between them was powerful, explosive even. But Mikhail was a mystery, a dangerous man who lived in a world of shadows she could not possibly comprehend. "How do you love what you don't understand, what you don't know?" Even as she asked the question, she could