Carpathian 02 - Dark Desire
Gregori chided softly, aloud. "You bring her along on every other dangerous thing she should not be involved in." That was a clear reprimand. "You might have brought her where she could actually do some good."
Through the open doorway suddenly stepped a small woman, long ebony hair braided intricately, huge blue eyes flashing at Mikhail. As Byron shouldered his way inside behind her, she gave him a friendly Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
smile and stood on her toes to brush his chin with a kiss.
Mikhail stiffened, then immediately wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. "Carpathian women do not do that kind of thing," he reprimanded her.
She tilted her chin at him, in no way intimidated. "That's because Carpathian males have such a territorial mentality—you know, a beat-their-chest, swing-from-the-trees sort of thing." She turned her head to look at the couple lying on the floor. Her indrawn breath was audible.
"Jacques." She whispered his name, tears in her voice and in her blue eyes. "It really is you." Eluding Mikhail's outstretched, detaining hand, she ran to him.
Let her, Gregori persuaded softly. Look at him.
Jacques' gaze was fastened on the woman's face, the red flames receding from his eyes as she approached.
"I'm Raven, Jacques. Don't you remember me? Mikhail, your brother, is my lifemate." Raven dropped to her knees beside the couple. "Thank God you're alive. I can't believe how lucky we are. Who did this to you? Who took you from us?"
Shea felt the ripple of awareness in her mind. Jacques' shock. His curiosity. He recognized those tear-filled blue eyes. Shea caught a glimpse, a fragment of memory, the woman bending over him, her hands clamped to his throat, pressing soil and saliva into a pumping wound. Shea held her breath, waiting. Jacques' silent cry of despair echoed in her head. She forced herself to move, found his hand with hers, silently supporting him as she regarded the woman kneeling beside her.
You didn't tell me she was so beautiful, Shea reprimanded deliberately.
In the midst of Jacques' pain and agony, his possessive fury and maniacal madness, something seemed to melt the ice-cold core of murderous resolve. The urge to smile at that feminine, edgy tone came out of nowhere. Something snarling to be set free retreated, and the tension in him eased visibly. Is she? Jacques asked innocently.
Shea's green eyes touched his face, and warmth spread further inside him. And the beast was temporarily leashed.
"Is this your lifemate, Jacques?" Raven asked softly.
Shea looked at her then, this woman who had been a part of Jacques' life. "I'm Shea O'Halloran." Her voice was husky and ragged. "Jacques has been unable to use his voice since I found him."
Raven touched Shea's bruised throat with gentle fingers. "Someone had better tell me what happened here." Her blue eyes were studying the dark smudges closely.
"Help her to the bed," Gregori interceded, distracting Raven from her study. You owe me one, old friend, he sent to Mikhail.
Raven smiled very gently at Jacques. "Do you mind if I help her? Shea is quite weak." Not waiting for his approval, she slipped an arm around Shea's waist, supporting her as she tried to stand.
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Instantly Shea felt the ripple of unease coursing through Jacques. The others felt it as the ground shifted and rolled. The flames in his eyes glowed a brilliant red, and a slow hiss escaped him.
Raven glared at Mikhail over her shoulder. He shrugged helplessly. I am not doing it, little one.
Jacques is unstable. He does not like the woman apart from him.
Temper tantrums seem to run in your family. Raven was careful to keep Shea close as Gregori lifted Jacques in his arms. With his tremendous strength, the healer carried Jacques as if he were a child and gently laid him on the bed.
Jacques didn't so much as look at him. His eyes were always on Shea. Raven made certain Shea was beside him every step of the way.
"Lie close to him, Shea," Gregori instructed. He stepped back so Raven could help her into the bed. The woman was very weak and could not survive another attack. All of them had to take great care not to set Jacques off.
Raven lit the candle Mikhail produced, then lit pungent herbs. Mikhail, Byron, and Raven all joined together, in low murmurs reciting the ancient healing chant in the language of their people. Gregori laid his
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