Carpathian 14 - Dark Hunger

canopy kept out much of the light, and with the sun setting, the interior went dark quickly. She had excellent night vision, but it wasn't going to help much with night predators.
    She passed the miles alternating between a run and walk. She tried to listen to the steady rhythm of the rain, but it sounded like a heartbeat. She tried to block out the scent of Riordan, but it clung to her body. Tears made a relentless path down her face, blurring her vision. Grief was a heavy weight that slowed her steps and robbed her of air.
    Every step was a fight to go forward, to keep from turning around and running back to find Riordan. Worse, her mind continually tried to tune itself to his. Fighting herself was more exhausting than fighting the jungle. She needed a place to rest. Juliette found a small circle of boulders, nearly hidden by overgrown ferns. Within the ring of boulders a deep pool fed by a small stream shimmered in the moonlight. She sat down, lifted her face to catch the mistlike drops that managed to work through the thick foliage overhead. Thunder rolled. Lightning lined the clouds. A roar shook the ground, the trees, caused small waves to race across the surface of the water. Juliette's hand fluttered over her heart. He had risen.

    Juliette was gone. His first reaction was to roar out his pain and frustration. Now Riordan let out his breath in a long, slow hiss of exasperation. He wanted to shake her. The physical attraction between them was a wildfire. That alone should have been enough to bind her to him. She was in for a long, difficult time, out there alone without him. The ritual bonding words would force her mind to attempt to connect with his. He had explained it to her, had tried to spare her the misery he knew she would be going through.
    He was already feeling the effects of their separation. Worse, he was feeling her grief, a torrent of emotion every bit as deep as the well of passion he touched in her. She felt things intensely. Riordan raked his fingers through his long hair. He needed to find prey fast. He needed more time in the ground to heal, but more than anything, he needed Juliette. He lifted his head toward the heavens and roared a second time. She had opened the dam of his emotions. He remembered nothing of anger and jealousy and fear, but now the feelings were crowding into his mind mixed with grief. It was a potent combination and a dangerous one.
    He found the tracks of a large cat, but not the footprints of a woman. His heart beat hard in his chest, pounded with fear for her, with need for her. She had managed to disguise herself, leave no trace behind, but the call of blood and the ties that bound them together were far too strong to ever break. He moved quickly through the cave, shifting on the run, bursting into the air as a thick stream of white mist. The sky was orange and red, dazzling and vivid and near blinding to a man who had seen only shades of gray for so long. Even with the heavy mist for protection, his head burst with the sheer brilliance of color. He streaked through the trees, staying below the canopy, using the protection of the foliage while he acclimated himself to his new sight.
    A bird shrieked, his only warning. He hit something and bounced backward. Droplets shimmered briefly through a dropping silver net, falling through on the outside. Instincts took over. He shot upward, through and above the silver. In his present form he was able to slip through, but he felt the thin blades, razor-sharp, cutting deep.
    Riordan ! Juliette sounded panic-stricken.
    The trap had been set specifically for him. Juliette knew he would come after her. He had not fully penetrated the barriers in her mind. Could she betray him? Was it even possible for one lifemate to betray another? Riordan doubted it, but he didn't have time to think so he simply didn't answer, pulling his mind from hers. The echo of her anguished cry tore at his heart, but he refused to be swayed, streaking through the canopy and shifting into the form of a bird. He went still, hiding among the birds in the tree, examining the trap that had been set for him.
    It had been sprung without an operator. He had merely flown into it, which meant there might be other traps out there waiting for him. Blood trickled down his beak and seeped through his feathers. Far below, on the forest floor, the silver net lay tangled in a heap. He could see traces of his blood on the thin wires.
    Humans, puppets of a vampire, had