Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

two men, about six miles away, and she recognized Manolito's sensual tone, His voice shimmered in her mind, sent goose bumps skittering over her skin and her stomach clenching in anticipation of seeing him.
    MaryAnn walked fast, urgency driving her. He was in trouble. She knew it. She felt him now, close, where before she couldn't reach him. She didn't try connecting mind-to-mind; she wasn't psychic, but it didn't matter. She heard his whispered command floating in the air. dome to me . She knew he was injured.
    Confused. He needed her. Scents burst through her brain, the three-day-old trail of a tapir rooting for vegetation. A margay hidden deep in the canopy a mile to her left. So many creatures, even… jaguar . Her breath hitched and she drew her knees higher, pumping her arms, picking up speed.
    She cut through a series of slopes running along a swollen stream, uncaring when the lower shrubbery tore at her hair. Water poured from every conceivable outlet, creating waterfalls everywhere. The sound was loud in the stillness of the forest. With little moon and the thick canopy overhead, the interior was dark and eerie.
    Low-lying fog wove a trail of ghoulish gray vapor in and out of the trees, covering the buttress of tangled roots so when she got close to them, the thick knots and snakelike limbs appeared to be dark fortresses hiding secrets. The huge trunks rose up out of the fog, seemingly disembodied from the roots holding them to ground.
    Juliette's nails dug into Riordan's arm as they paced behind MaryAnn. Look at her. She runs so smoothly.
    She's not jaguar, but I don't know what she is. I've never seen anything like her. Have you ?
    Riordan struggled with his memories, trying to remember if he'd ever seen such a transformation. It was difficult to see MaryAnn as more than the beautiful fashion plate she always appeared to him to be.
    She was intelligent and courageous for a human, he had always given her that, but her courage wasn't the kind needed to be the lifemate of a Carpathian hunter like Manolito. Riordan's brother was dominating and hard, with no soft edges to make him more palatable for a woman like MaryAnn. Yet there was a steel core in her. And there was far more to the package than met the eye. She wielded power and energy without conscious deliberation, yet the moment she thought about it, she became inept and afraid.
    The biggest question is whether or not she is a danger to Manolito.
    I think she is very confused about all of this, Riordan. I feel sorry for her. The blood tie to Manolito is strong.
    If it was only the one exchange, why is the connection so strong in her that she knows more than you where your brother is? Because, make no mistake, she knows exactly where he is and she's heading straight to him.
    He's a good six miles away, but she's making fast time even though she's never been in a rainforest in her life.
    MaryAnn felt a buzzing in her head, as if insects were fluttering in her skull. The Carpathians were talking to each other again. She detested that. Were they using her to get to Manolito? If Riordan really wanted to find his brother, why didn't he approach him directly, call to him, draw him out? Why hadn't they simply buried the body at their ranch, where Manolito would have risen among family members who would have helped him? Why hadn't they mentioned a second home? And why were Juliette's sister and cousin too afraid to even go to the De La Cruz home? Something was very wrong.
    It all should have frightened her—and it might have—but Manolito's voice once again slid into her head.
    Where are you ? He sounded so lost and lonely. Her heart twisted in answer, aching for him.
    She wasn't a runner, but she picked up the pace, smoothly, easily, leaping over fallen tree trunks as if she'd been born with the reflexes, something inside her urging her to hurry. As she ran, her mind became still, quiet and certain, assessing everything around her with uncommon speed.
    Her vision was odd, as if her other senses being so enhanced had robbed her of normal vision. The vibrant greens and reds of leaves and flowers blended and dulled until it was hard to distinguish color, yet even with the dull gray, she caught the movement of insects and lizards, the flash of the tree frogs and monkeys as they scurried overhead. Her night vision had always been excellent, but now it seemed more so; without the colors to dazzle and blind, she could identify a wider spectrum of things as she raced