Carpathian 01 - Dark Prince

reassurance. She found she welcomed the brushing touch, craved it, was aware that he shared the same deep need to merge often with her.
    With a sigh she enveloped herself in his long, warm cape. All at once the house was too stifling, like a prison instead of a home. The long wraparound porch beckoned to her; the night seemed to call her name. She caught at the doorknob, twisted. At once the night air rushed over her, cooling and filled with intriguing scents. She wandered out onto the porch, leaned against a tall column and inhaled deeply, drawing the night into her lungs. She could feel a drawing, a calling. Without conscious thought she Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    stepped off the porch and began to wander along the path.
    The night whispered and sang, beckoning her into deep forest. An owl hissed softly across the sky; a trio of deer stepped warily from cover to dip velvet muzzles in the cold stream. Raven felt their joy in living, their acceptance of their daily life-and-death struggle. She could hear the sap in the trees thrumming like the ebb and flow of the tide. Her bare feet seemed to find soft ground, avoiding twigs and thorns and sharp rocks. The rush of the water, the sound of the wind, the very heartbeat of the earth called to her.
    Entranced, Raven wandered aimlessly, enfolded in Mikhail's long black cape, her hair falling past her hips in a thick cascade of blue-black silk. She looked ethereal, her pale skin almost translucent in the moonlight, her large eyes so dark blue that they were purple. The cape parted occasionally to reveal an intriguing glimpse of bare, shapely leg.
    Something rippled in her mind, disturbing the tranquil beauty of the night. Grief. Tears. Raven halted, blinked rapidly, tried to determine her surroundings. She had wandered as if she was in a beautiful dream. She turned in the direction of the intense emotion. Without conscious thought, her feet began to move forward. Her mind automatically processed information.
    A human male. Early twenties. His genuine grief ran deep. There was anger toward his father, confusion, and guilt that he had arrived too late. Something deep in Raven responded to his overwhelming need. He was huddled against a broad tree trunk, down low near the timberline. His knees were drawn up, his face buried in his hands.
    Raven deliberately made a sound as she approached. The man lifted a tear-streaked face, his eyes wide with shock as he spotted her. He began to scramble to his feet.
    "Please don't get up," Raven said quietly, her voice as soft as the night itself. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I couldn't sleep and came out walking. Would you prefer me to leave?"
    Rudy Romanov found himself staring in awe at a dream figure that seemed to materialize out of the mist.
    She was like nothing he had ever seen before, as shrouded in mystery as the dark forest itself. Words caught in his throat. Had his grief conjured her up? He could almost believe the ridiculous, superstitious tales his father had told him. Tales of vampires and women of the darkness, sirens luring men to their doom.
    The man was staring at her as if she were a ghost. "I'm so sorry," she murmured gently and turned to leave him.
    "No! Don't go." His English was heavily accented. "For a minute, coming out of the mist like that, you hardly looked real."
    Aware that she had little on beneath the long cape, Raven drew it closer around her. "Are you all right?
    Can I call someone for you? The priest, perhaps? Your family?"
    "There is no one, not anymore. I'm Rudy Romanov. You must have heard the news about my parents."
    An unholy vision burst in her head. She saw wolves boiling from the forest, red eyes gleaming fiercely, a huge black wolf leading the pack and bearing straight down on Hans Romanov. From the young man's head, she picked up the memory of his mother, Heidi, lying on her bed, her husband's fingers around her throat. For one awful moment she couldn't breathe. What this man had suffered! Both parents taken from him in a matter of hours. His fanatical father had murdered his mother.

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    "I've been ill; this is my first time out in days." She moved closer to him beneath the outstretched limbs of the trees. She couldn't very well tell him the truth—that she had been involved in the entire horrendous affair.
    To Rudy, she seemed a beautiful angel sent to console him.