181
" You aren’t going to make me sleep in the ground, are you? Because I won’t do it, not even if there are ten vampires stalking us.
Vampires cannot stand even the dawn, Shea. Killing his prey does something to the blood. The sun would fry him immediately. He might betray us to the human servants he is in league with if he marked the entrance to this cave. Or they might be watching for just such a sign as bats flying unexpectedly into the early sun.
You’re telling me there are bats in here.
He tugged at her wrist. Stop being such a baby. I can control the bats, and they will serve to warn us of any danger.
Shea made a face but followed him. With every moment Jacques’ abilities, his knowledge and power, seemed to be growing. He was confident almost to the point of arrogance. Sometimes it grated and made her want to throw something at him, but she was proud of his growing strength.
The passage began to widen and slowly move downward, as if they were going into the very bowels of the earth. Shea could feel sweat beading on her body and her lungs laboring. She concentrated on breathing, the only thing that would keep her sane.
Jacques realized she was trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in his. His mind pushed through her natural barrier and found her uneasiness, her ridiculous fear of bats and closed-in places. She was uneasy with the Carpathian ability to shape-shift. Even his thinness, as he moved through the cave, made her uncomfortable. Used to being in control of every situation, she was finding it hard to follow his lead so blindly.
I am sorry, little one. I am introducing you to things that seem so perfectly natural to me yet must be confusing ad frightening to you. His voice was a soft caress, sending warmth curling through her body. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
182
" Jacques! My God, he’s killed Raven! Gregori! I’m sorry, I couldn’t save her. Shea was fighting, kicking and punching, and didn’t even realize it until Wallace hit her repeatedly in the face.
“Shut up! Stop that screaming or I’ll knock you out.” He hit her twice more. “Damn vampires think they’re so smart. It was so easy, wasn’t it, Uncle Eugene?”
Shea was sobbing uncontrollably, almost immune to the pain of Wallace dragging her by her injured arm. Warmth stirred in her mind. Shea? We need you to look at the man holding you, look around the room slowly and picture everything exactly the way you see it. Jacques’ voice was calm and unruffled, no hint of rage or anger, simply a cool wind of logic. We are all three linked and can aid you.
Raven is dead! They shot her! she cried hysterically in her mind, afraid to move or call further attention to herself, lest she endanger Jacques in some way.
Just do as I tell you, love. Look around the room. Study your enemy and picture every detail in your mind so that we can see him. Jacques was tranquil, breathing steadily and slowly to help her control her own breathing. Block out everything else. What they say does not matter. What they do does not matter. Give us the data we need. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
183
" Slovensky lifted the stake higher, poised it over Raven’s breast. “This gives me more pleasure than you will ever know.”
“No!” Shea attempted to launch herself at Slovensky, unable to bear the thought of them defiling Raven’s body with a crude wooden stake.
Focus! Gregori snapped, his voice so powerful, even over the distance, that it brought Shea up short, where all Donn Wallace’s slaps and punches had hardly fazed her.
Shea stared at Slovensky, the picture etched in her mind. She saw the glee in his face, the hatred, the sick, perverse pleasure he was deriving as he held the stake aloft above Raven’s body. Then suddenly she saw his expression change from pleasure to alarm. His face grew crimson, then a dark shade of purple. He coughed, and blood trickled from his mouth, his nose. He coughed again, and his arm fell to his side, the stake dropping from nerveless fingers.
“Uncle Eugene?” The grin faded from Wallace’s mouth. He took a step toward his uncle. “What is it?”
Slovensky tried to speak, but the only sound that emerged was a wheezing groan. More blood bubbled up around his mouth. Red foam dribbled onto his chin.
Shea looked away, her stomach lurching.
Look at him! Gregori made his order impossible to ignore. One of the most powerful ancients alive, he forced her compliance without a qualm, holding her mind focused exactly where he wanted it. Jacques and Mikhail had thrown their strength and power squarely behind him. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
184
" Look at him! Gregori made his order impossible to ignore. One of the most powerful ancients alive, he forced her compliance without a qualm, holding her mind focused exactly where he wanted it. Jacques and Mikhail had thrown their strength and power squarely behind him.
Shea’s terrified gaze returned to the older man as bidden. He was gray, his body swaying unsteadily. Suddenly he fell to his knees.
“Damn it, old man!” Wallace sounded scared. “Don’t do this to me. What the hell is wrong? Are you having a heart attack?” He didn’t go near his uncle. In fact, he backed up, dragging Shea with him, looking wildly around as if afraid they weren’t alone.
Slovensky was strangling, choking on the blood pouring from his mouth, literally drowning in it. He clutched his throat, trying to pry imaginary fingers from around it. Then his hands went to his heart as his chest began to literally rip open.
Shea cried out but could not look away with Gregori forcing her to obey his command. Then suddenly, as Slovensky’s heart exploded violently out of his chest and he slumped forward, face down onto the floor, she was released. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
185
" Open the door for me that I might breathe the night, he said and tried not to devour her with his eyes. He was well aware she was beginning to see that no one--certainly not Shea with her gentle, compassionate nature--could oppose his will, a will honed in the fires of hell.
She did as he asked. “You didn’t try to get up, did you? You can’t, Jacques. You’ll do too much damage. And if you keep adding scar tissue, you’ll end up looking like Frankenstein.”
He had closed his eyes to inhale the fresh, clean night air. Carpathians never scar. It came out of nowhere. He was elated he remembered something. He was even elated he remembered Frankenstein.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really? Then what’s that thin line around your throat? I barely caught it, but it’s there. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
186
" Shea cried out but could not look away with Gregori forcing her to obey his command. Then suddenly, as Slovensky’s heart exploded violently out of his chest and he slumped forward, face down onto the floor, she was released.
Wallace made strange sounds, little mewling noises interspersed with curses. He dragged Shea to her feet, forced her with him toward the door. Her back was to him, and for a moment Shea was curiously thankful. She had never killed or injured another human being in her life. She had taken an oath to save lives. Every instinct in her was to go to Raven, see if there was anything she could do. Even to go to the stick old man and try to aid him. Killing was utterly out of her realm.
You did not kill him, Jacques said soothingly.
I was the instrument you used, she protested. As Wallace dragged her outside, the light hit her eyes, and she cried out as a thousand knives seemed to pierce her skull.
Look at this man, his hand on you, anything I can use, Jacques ordered gruffly. He could feel her horror, her reluctance.
I can’t, Jacques. I can’t think. It was true. Her mind was consumed with grotesque images of blood and death.
This time it was not Gregori who took charge. Jacques gripped her mind in a hold of steel, forcing her compliance. He was far stronger than she had ever imagined him to be, and supremely confident in his abilities, even in the morning hours. The Carpathians men were coming closer, too. Even with the burden of protecting Byron, they were moving rapidly as a group toward the cabin.
Mikhail reluctantly split off from the rest of them, Byron a dead weight in his arms, his path away from the forest and toward the cave of healing. But his concentration on his wife and child was total. He had no room for any other emotion. He kept their waning life force flickering in his mind, held them locked to him, giving them no chance to die before the healer was there to aid them. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
187
" After seven years of pain and starvation, little red hair, after torment and suffering, I thought to take your blood.
“My life,” she corrected bravely, needing all the pieces of the puzzle.
He stared relentlessly, the watchful eyes of a predator. Shea twisted her fingers together in agitation. He looked a stranger, an invincible being with no real emotion, only a hard resolve and a killer’s instincts. She cleared her throat. “You needed me.”
I had no thought but to feed. My body recognized yours before my mind did.
“I don’t understand.”
Once I recognized you as my lifemate, my first thought was to punish you for leaving me in torment, then bind you to me for eternity. There was no apology, only a waiting.
Shea sensed danger, but she did not back down. “How did you bind me to you?”
The exchange of our blood.
Her heart slammed painfully. “What does that mean, exactly?”
The blood bond is strong. I am in your mind, as you are in mine. It is impossible for us to lie to one another. I feel your emotions and know your thoughts as you do mine.
She shook her head in denial. “That may be true for you, but not for me. I feel your pain at times, but I never know your thoughts.”
That is because you choose not to merge with me. Your mind seeks the touch and reassurance of mine often, yet you refuse to allow it, so I merge with you to prevent your discomfort.
Shea could not deny the truth in his words. Often she felt her mind tuning itself to his, reaching out for him. Disturbed by the unwanted and unfamiliar need, she always imposed a strict discipline on herself. It was unconscious on her part, something she did automatically for self-protection. Jacques, within minutes of her need arising, always reached for her to merge them. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “You seem to know more about what is happening here than I do, Jacques. Tell me.”
Lifemates are bound together for all eternity. One cannot exist without the other. We balance one another. You are the light to my darkness. We must share one another often. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
188
" Look at this man, his hand on you, anything I can use, Jacques ordered gruffly. He could feel her horror, her reluctance.
I can’t, Jacques. I can’t think. It was true. Her mind was consumed with grotesque images of blood and death.
This time it was not Gregori who took charge. Jacques gripped her mind in a hold of steel, forcing her compliance. He was far stronger than she had ever imagined him to be, and supremely confident in his abilities, even in the morning hours. The Carpathians men were coming closer, too. Even with the burden of protecting Byron, they were moving rapidly as a group toward the cabin.
Mikhail reluctantly split off from the rest of them, Byron a dead weight in his arms, his path away from the forest and toward the cave of healing. But his concentration on his wife and child was total. He had no room for any other emotion. He kept their waning life force flickering in his mind, held them locked to him, giving them no chance to die before the healer was there to aid them. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
190
" The passage began to widen and slowly move downward, as if they were going into the very bowels of the earth. Shea could feel sweat beading on her body and her lungs laboring. She concentrated on breathing, the only thing that would keep her sane.
Jacques realized she was trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in his. His mind pushed through her natural barrier and found her uneasiness, her ridiculous fear of bats and closed-in places. She was uneasy with the Carpathian ability to shape-shift. Even his thinness, as he moved through the cave, made her uncomfortable. Used to being in control of every situation, she was finding it hard to follow his lead so blindly.
I am sorry, little one. I am introducing you to things that seem so perfectly natural to me yet must be confusing ad frightening to you. His voice was a soft caress, sending warmth curling through her body.
Just his voice could give her strength. She straightened her shoulders and followed him. There’s a bed in here somewhere, right? She tried to inject some humor into the moment.
The passageway widened enough to allow Jacques to resume his true form. He immediately did so, hoping to alleviate Shea’s distress. He also sought a comfortable topic for conversation. “What do you think of Raven?”
“I thought we had to be quiet.” Shea was looking in every direction for bats. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
193
" You need, my love. He kissed her gently. Kiss me, my chest. Let me feel that your need is as great as my own.
It was sheer black magic, an erotic whisper of seduction she seemed helpless to resist. Her mouth tasted his skin, lingered, found his throat, the heavy muscles of his chest. Jacques knew he was playing with fire. His body could not take much more. His hand caught the nape of her neck, pressed her head to him. You hunger, my love.
Self-preservation interceded, and her body stiffened.
Jacques’ voice was purity itself. You will take what I freely offer. It is my right, and you cannot deny me. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
194
" The passage into the cave was so narrow, Shea had to hold her breath to squeeze through. It seemed to go on forever, the rough walls scraping her skin, the oppressive feelings of tons of rock over her head, surrounding her body, waiting to crush her. She couldn’t look at Jacques, who had somehow made his large body thin and weird looking. Carpathians were capable of doing things she didn’t want to think about. How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Sex. A good-looking intense man with black, hungry eyes, and she fell like a lovesick calf. Sex. It ruined many otherwise sane women.
I can read your thoughts. The amusement was soft and caressing, wrapping her up in strong arms.
I was perfectly sane and sensible until I met you. Now look at me. I’m crawling around inside a mountain. Suddenly she stopped and held herself perfectly still. I’m hearing something. Tell me you are not taking me into a cave full of bats. Say it right now, Jacques, or I’m out of here.
I am not taking you into cave filled with bats. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
195
" He had called to her in need. The moment she realized that, she relaxed, holding him in her arms with acceptance. He needed her, and she could do no other than help him. His hands were everywhere, rough, hurting even; his teeth bit at her much too hard. Jacques. Deliberately she sought the red haze of his mind. She was calm, tranquil, accepting of his bestial nature. Come back to me.
He latched on to her like a drowning man, merging his mind with hers. He was breathing hard, in such pain. She could feel the dark desire beating at him, the demand that he claim what was rightfully his. Jacques struggled for control of the monster within him. Shea kissed his throat, the hard line of his jaw, a soothing, gentle touch. It’s all right. Come back to me.
He buried his face in her neck, crushed her tightly to him. He was exhausted, in pain, afraid he had driven her even further away. It was Shea who stroked his hair, murmured soothing nonsense, Shea who lay soft and pliant close to his heart. Her palm shaped the side of his face, a physical contact; her mind merged firmly, wholly, with his.
I am sorry. Jacques rested his chin on top of her head, unwilling to face the condemnation he feared would be reflected in her eyes.
Ssh, just be still. I should never have left you alone.
You did not cause this. His arms tightened momentarily. Shea, do not think that. You are not to blame for my madness. My body needs yours. The mating between lifemates is not exactly the same as human mating. I nearly hurt you, Shea. I am sorry.
You’re the one in pain, Jacques, she pointed out gently. She realized she was using their mental link, accepting it as natural. She sighed, reached up to kiss his chin.
They held each other like two children after a terrible fright, taking comfort in one another’s closeness. Shea became aware after a time that her skin was against his, bare, sensitive, her breasts pressed into his side. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what happened to my shirt.” She lay motionless, drowsy and content. Being so close to him should have bothered her, but it simply seemed normal. Her gaze found the material slashed to ribbons, scattered on the floor beside the bed. “You were in a bit of a hurry, I see,” she pointed out, making an effort to get up to get dressed.
When Shea would have pulled away from him, Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. Instead, he reached lazily for the quilt and pulled it around her. His smile was in her mind. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
196
" Don’t start believing you’re a monster. The way you touch me sometimes, with such tenderness, that is no monster.” Her body was restless, a need moving over her, through her, a need she had never known before. “You wanted me, Jacques, yet you stopped yourself. You’re no monster.”
Maybe my wounds stopped me, not my self control. She had stopped him with her acceptance of the beast in him.
“You’re tired, Jacques. Sleep for a while.”
He caught her hand, his thumb feathering across the inside of her wrist.. I am not a vampire. I have not turned.
“I don’t understand.”
He closed his eyes, smiled in his mind. She was back to using her professional, scientific voice. You were worried that I had turned. Earlier, in the woods, you were afraid I was a vampire. Just now you thought our people might be vampire. We are Carpathian, not the undead. Unless we turn.
“Would you stay out of my head? Wait until you’re invited.”
If I waited for an invitation from you, little red hair, I would be centuries old before it ever came about. The smile in his mind was just a little too sexy for her peace of mind. I was merely attempting to ease your fears. Now he sounded innocent.
She laughed softly. “Do I have naïve stamped on my forehead?”
Has anyone ever complained about your bedside manner?
Shea raised her eyebrows. “I’m a surgeon. I don’t need a bedside manner. And in any case, I’ve never had such an outrageous patient before. Stop calling me red hair. And little red hair. And all the other things you call me. Dr. O’Halloran is appropriate. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
197
" Jacques realized she was trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in his. His mind pushed through her natural barrier and found her uneasiness, her ridiculous fear of bats and closed-in places. She was uneasy with the Carpathian ability to shape-shift. Even his thinness, as he moved through the cave, made her uncomfortable. Used to being in control of every situation, she was finding it hard to follow his lead so blindly.
I am sorry, little one. I am introducing you to things that seem so perfectly natural to me yet must be confusing ad frightening to you. His voice was a soft caress, sending warmth curling through her body.
Just his voice could give her strength. She straightened her shoulders and followed him. There’s a bed in here somewhere, right? She tried to inject some humor into the moment.
The passageway widened enough to allow Jacques to resume his true form. He immediately did so, hoping to alleviate Shea’s distress. He also sought a comfortable topic for conversation. “What do you think of Raven?”
“I thought we had to be quiet.” Shea was looking in every direction for bats.
“The bats know we are here, Shea, but there is no need to fear them. I will keep them away from you.” He spoke calmly as if it was an everyday occurrence to control the movements of bats. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
198
" Don Wallace found himself floating in the air, his scattergun on the ground below. The flames died as suddenly as they had begun, but his arm was a mass of charred flesh. Still screaming, he struggled with his one good hand to pull his revolver out of his shoulder holster. He was horrified when it seemed to take on a life of its own and slowly pointed itself at him. His own finger found the trigger and compulsively settled over it.
Shea made a sound in her throat. This was a scene from a horror film, yet she couldn’t look away. A huge black wolf burst from the underbrush, running flat out. It leapt into the air, its gleaming jaws closing around Wallace’s leg. Bones snapped like twigs as the wolf pulled the man to the ground and thrust its fangs at his exposed throat.
Shea was released from the mind hold and scrambled to her feet, rushing at the wolf tearing at the struggling man. “Jacques! No! You can’t do this!” For one bizarre moment the wolf turned its head to look at her, and time stood still. She recognized Jacques’ icy eyes and felt his triumph raging in her mind.
Gregori yanked her arm as he emerged from the woods running, still half wolf, half man, changing as he ran. “Come on, we have no time. Damn it, Shea, I need you. You are a doctor, a healer. Come with me.” He did not release her arm, and she was forced to sprint with him up the steps into the cabin.
Gregori shoved Slovensky’s body out of the way with a boot. “Listen to me, Shea. We will have to do this together. Raven has shut down her body as much as she dared. Mikhail is keeping her and the child alive, but she is very weak, and the child is in trouble. You have to repair the damage done to Raven, and I will save the child. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
200
" Would you stay out of my head? Wait until you’re invited.”
If I waited for an invitation from you, little red hair, I would be centuries old before it ever came about. The smile in his mind was just a little too sexy for her peace of mind. I was merely attempting to ease your fears. Now he sounded innocent.
She laughed softly. “Do I have naïve stamped on my forehead?”
Has anyone ever complained about your bedside manner?
Shea raised her eyebrows. “I’m a surgeon. I don’t need a bedside manner. And in any case, I’ve never had such an outrageous patient before. Stop calling me red hair. And little red hair. And all the other things you call me. Dr. O’Halloran is appropriate.”
For the first time his sensuous mouth softened, curved into a grin. The effect on her was shattering. It wasn’t right for a male to look that sexy. He should be banned from all female company.
Handsome and sexy. I must be getting somewhere after all. His tone was lazy, teasing, a little bit husky.
Shea laughed softly. It was impossible to be annoyed with him when he was in this mood. “You are handsome and sexy, but don’t let it go to your head. You’re also arrogant, dominating, and too ruthless for my taste.” She squashed him without a qualm.
Jacques tugged on her hand, drew her close to the bed so that he could bring her palm to the warmth of his mouth. I am exactly to your taste.
She yanked her hand away as if he had burned her, rubbing her palm along her thigh. The feeling didn’t go away, and neither did the butterflies he had sent winging in her stomach. “How do you know you’re not a vampire?” She needed to distract him, distract both of them. “Maybe you forgot. You’re certainly capable of acting like one.”
This time he laughed, startling both of them. The sound was husky, low, and foreign to his ears, as if he had forgotten what it was like. His black eyes leapt to her face almost in fear.
“Not bad, wild man. First a growl, and now a laugh. We’re making progress.” Her eyes danced at him, reassured him.
Joy welled up in the midst of pain. Shea. She had created a world where his soul could somehow touch light. "
― Christine Feehan , Dark Desire (Dark, #2)
