There was no point in protesting that she could not do this thing he expected of her, somehow become light and energy. She had no choice but to try. Gregori believed she could do it, and she had to believe it also. She owed Raven and her child a chance at life. In any case, she was first and foremost a doctor. It was in her nature to heal.
“We do it together,” Gregori instructed softly, his voice a cool, soothing balm in the chaos of her mind. She could feel herself respond to that beautiful pitch, the tinkle of silver, the purity of goodness. Shea sank to the floor beside Raven’s still body, closed her eyes, and sought a calm place in her mind to center herself. At first everything seemed to intrude, but somehow Gregori was there with her, showing her how to adjust her thoughts and refocus. First the room seemed to drop away, then time and space. Her heart jumped wildly at the odd sensation, but Gregori’s soft chanting allowed her to remain calm and float above the earthly chaos. Gradually her body diminished, becoming smaller and smaller until all that remained was her soul. Light and energy. Power.
“We go together. Keep your attention on Raven and her wounds. You cannot think of yourself or what could happen. Believe in yourself. If you begin to falter, reach out to me.” Gregori’s powerful light seemed to bathe her soul with trust and warmth.
She found only the healer in him. All else was pushed aside.
There was so much selflessness, so much purity of soul, Shea could only marvel. She followed his lead without reservation. He was the very epitome of what she had always striven to be. A true healer, with a gift so rare and precious, she felt humbled in his presence. Later she could remember that Gregori was a powerful ancient, that he could make anyone believe and see anything he wanted.
Chapter Fifteen
Shea seemed to float above Raven’s body. Her world narrowed until it was only the woman lying so still on the floor. At first it seemed as if Raven was dead, as if her life force was completely gone. Slowly, in her own stillness, with new awareness, Shea could feel the low energy seeping from Raven. Colors seemed to pulse around her, but they were pale and seemed to be fading.
“Now, Mikhail,” Gregori ordered.
The words were spoken aloud, yet in her head. Shea realized she hadn’t seen Mikhail. He was somewhere with Byron, holding Raven alive from a distance. She wanted to ask his forgiveness for allowing this to happen, but the light that was Shea was already positioning herself over Raven. She felt mild surprise that she seemed to know what to do, but then she realized she wasn’t alone. The ball of pure white light beside her was guiding her movements. Her every thought focused on Raven’s body; nothing else mattered. She felt Mikhail give Raven the command to awaken to mortal unconsciousness.
Blood spurted, poured from the wounds. Raven’s heart was loud, echoing through Shea’s light. She found herself streaming through the blood, white-hot heat cauterizing the worst of the wounds. She worked quickly, in deep and complete concentration, to stem the flow of Raven’s life force before she expired. Shea’s brain assessed the internal damage to each organ even as she worked. The repairs were done through thought. Every stitch was meticulous, every extraction of bullet fragments precise and careful. It was no different from operating physically, except it was more draining. Maintaining the level of concentration necessary for such a prolonged period was exhausting. Still, there was little sense of time passing. Just as she was in the operating room, Shea was caught up in the job at hand. She even felt as if she were sweating, as if a nurse should wipe her brow for her.
This was the world Shea knew. Her world. She had the patience to deal with extensive injuries. She had the knowledge and skills. More than that, she had the sheer determination. She would not lose her patient if there was any possibility of success.
The damage was horrific. Shea was shocked that Raven had survived as long as she had. Even a trauma center could not have saved her life; there were far too many mortal injuries. And the baby... How could the baby possibly survive?
Gregori approached the tiny being cautiously. The extent of the trauma was enormous. The baby was fading as blood gushed from its mother’s body. He could feel its willingness to slide away from the pain and outrage of the assault. He could only hope Shea would stop the bleeding quickly, as he had to concentrate on the child. She was so tiny, almost nonexistent, yet he could feel her pain and her puzzlement. She knew fear before she was born, knew pain, and now held forever the knowledge that life was not safe, even here in her mother’s womb.
Gregori murmured softly, reassuringly, to her. He had bathed her in his light once before, and she recognized him now, moved toward him, seeking comfort. Very carefully he attended to the wound in the artery that supplied her with nourishment. Very soon he would give her his own blood, sealing her fate, binding her ever closer to him. There were several tears in the placenta, which he meticulously sealed. She was afraid as his light floated closer, so he provided waves of reassurance and warmth.
There was a laceration in her right thigh. It hurt, and blood was seeping into the fluid surrounding her. With the lightest of touches he closed the wound, his touch lingering to calm her. His chant, the low pitch of his voice, echoed in her heart, in her mind, invading her soul. Gregori talked to her as he worked, the purity of his tone beguiling her, soothing her, so that she stayed with Raven rather than simply letting go, fading away with the steady trickle of blood.
Gregori could feel the strength in her, the determination. Without a doubt, she was Mikhail and Raven’s daughter. If she chose to go, she would do so, but if she chose to stay, she would fight with every breath left in her body. Gregori made certain she wanted to fight. He whispered to her in his most beguiling voice, promised a fascinating future, lured her with the secrets and beauty of the universe awaiting her. He promised her she would never be left alone; he would be there to guide her, to protect her, to see to her happiness.
Before he could complete his work, he felt Shea tremble, felt her suddenly become aware of the pain of her own wounds. Reassuring the child that he would return, he worked his way out of Raven’s body, taking Shea with him. She was swaying on her knees, so pale and drained she was gray. Although the injuries to her shoulder and arm were not critical, she had lost more blood than she could afford.
Jacques was supporting her, holding her against his chest, his arms keeping her from toppling over. She didn’t really seem to notice, only pushed ineffectually at him. “I’m not finished. Why did you bring me out, Gregori?” she protested, annoyed. Her one thought was to get back to her patient.
“You must feed or you will not be able to continue,” he counseled softly. “And Raven needs blood.” The healer’s silver eyes went to Jacques’, and he nodded.
Jacques thrust his mind into Shea’s without hesitation, commanding that she feed. She was so tired and drawn, she could barely turn up her face to the hollow of his neck. At once his body clenched with her breath so warm against his skin. He drew her closer, felt the scrape of her teeth, a slight nip on his neck. Jacques nearly groaned aloud, cursed the depth of Carpathian sexuality that could send his body into hard, painful need when there was blood and death all around them.
Shea whispered something against his pulse, something soft and sighing that invaded his body and left him hungry for her intimate touch. He covered his moan of urgent need as her teeth sank into his neck. Hot flames danced through his bloodstream, darted along his muscles and nerves. His hands found her waist, her back, cradled her head to him. His body needed to sate itself with hers. Never had the heat been so burning and the need so great.
Gregori’s teeth tore at his own wrist. His mind merged with Mikhail’s, and together they forced Raven’s reluctant compliance. She was still a fledging, a mere quarter of a century old, yet she was already strong. It took both of them to force her to feed from other than Mikhail. She resisted for a moment.
For our child, little one,
Mikhail whispered softly, lovingly, bending her will to his.
Y
ou must do this for our child.
Gregori added his own reinforcement.
I have never asked anything of you, Raven, of our friendship. This I ask.
Raven pushed down her revulsion and allowed Mikhail and Gregori to put her into a trance so that she was able to accept the life-giving fluid that both she and her daughter needed so desperately.
Gregori concentrated on connecting with the child. It was so helpless, so tiny, so afraid. A living, thinking being already. He could feel the confusion and its sudden awareness of being alone. He sent waves of reassurance. His blood, flowing into the small body, would strengthen their bond, ensure that her chemistry would match his.
He had spent a lifetime preparing for this moment, the time when he would have the opportunity to choose his mate. He had always known it would be a child of Mikhail’s. When Raven had been attacked and mortally wounded years before, Gregori had made certain he had supplied the blood to heal her: His ancient blood was powerful and strong, and he had sent with it the rudiments of the first bonding in the hopes that Raven, a human woman, would conceive a female child. Now he was able to reinforce that bond, seal the child to him for all time. She was bound to him, body and soul, as he was to her. For the first time in centuries he felt hope. And to a male Carpathian on the verge of turning vampire, hope was the only thing left.
Shea closed the wound on Jacques’ neck with a sensuous stroke of her tongue, then blinked up at him with eyes slightly glazed and cloudy. Almost at once her expression changed, and she shoved Jacques away. It wasn’t that he had taken her free will; she would have fed to save Raven and the child. It was the way he had forced her to help him kill their enemy. Calmly, without emotion, he had commanded it.
You have always known I had demons in me, red hair.
Shea brushed a hand over her face, then shoved her wild hair aside as if to push him along with it.
I always thought you would behave like a man, not a wild animal wanting to kill. It is in our nature to kill. We are predators. Even if you were trying to save my life and felt you needed to kill Wallace, you did not have to use me to do it so viciously. Go away. I have work to do, and I’m very tired.
Jacques did not move from her side. Despite the rain, it was light outside. Even with the intense storm he was generating, the light was beginning to affect all their eyes. They had very little time to finish; soon their bodies would demand the sleep of their kind. He could convince Shea later that he was no monster. Right now his job was to protect all those present while they worked.
He scanned their surroundings continually. He built the storm and kept it roiling and frenzied above them, making the area unsafe to travel within. He supported Shea’s swaying body and kept an eye on the healer, who was looking gray and gaunt. What they were doing was a mystery to Jacques. He was proud that Shea was able to perform such a miracle, and he was secretly pleased that the healer needed her help.
Jacques knew Mikhail must be worried sick and feeling helpless. He had been the logical choice to take Byron to the cave of healing and place him in the ground until the healer could get to him. That meant that Mikhail had to keep Raven alive from a distance, a feat that was wearing after a time. And he would want to be the one to supply his own mate with blood and protect her from further harm.
Jacques swore softly to himself. Three Carpathian males should never have allowed humans to fool them. Why hadn’t they detected the presence of the men nearby in the forest? Why hadn’t the threat to Raven and Shea been ferreted out?
He looked at Shea’s arm, red and raw with open wounds, and cursed again. He was sworn to protect her and keep her happy. So far he had done a poor job of it. How was he going to take away the trauma of this day and show her the beauty of their life together? For the first time he became aware of the body of Eugene Slovensky. He sighed and moved away from Shea to hoist the carcass onto his shoulder and toss it outside to the wolves. The last thing Shea would need when she finished the grueling operation was to see any grisly evidence of their kills.
Jacques shoved a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing how tired he was. Everything about his relationship with Shea had gone wrong. He had inadvertently brought her over without her knowledge or consent. He had not even helped her through the difficult process. Worse, he had abused her whenever his mind fragmented. And now, to add to his long list of sins, he had viciously, joyously eliminated an enemy using her as his guide. He wasn’t very good at being a husband.
Jacques tried to use his newfound powers to search his memory for the time Mikhail had brought Raven over. Mikhail, too, had done so without her consent, without her knowledge of the existence of Carpathians. He had done it hastily, to save her life, and none of them, even Mikhail, had known if it would work. Raven had been forced to learn a new way of life.
A slight sound sent him whirling around to face Gregori, who staggered away from Raven’s body. Shea slumped down beside the woman and didn’t move. The two healers appeared drained and nearly helpless.
“You have need of blood,” Jacques said to Gregori. “You gave Raven too much.”
“She had need,” Gregori answered wearily. He stretched out on the floor, one arm flung over his eyes to protect them.
“Allow me to provide for you. I have fed well this day,” Jacques offered formally. The sun was climbing steadily despite the severity of the storm.
“I thank you, Jacques, but I am just too damn tired. This is Mikhail’s old cabin. Find out where his chamber is hidden.”
Jacques tested his strength, searched for the lost connection to his brother.
Mikhail? They are far too tired to continue. You will have to guard Byron, and I will take care of those here. In this cabin you must have a private resting place. Where is it? Beneath the table is a trapdoor that leads to the area under the house. Take care, it is not that well hidden. But if the house were to be discovered or set afire, you could close the earth above you and survive. The healer will not accept blood this day. He is in need.
There was a short pause as Mikhail touched Gregori to assess his condition.
Hewill survive. Just get them to safety.
Feeling like a true Carpathian male once-more, Jacques made his way to the hidden chamber. It was unusual for Carpathians to share a sleeping chamber, to even allow others to know where they rested. Entirely vulnerable during the afternoon hours, they were cautious to conceal where they slept. Jacques was uneasy with the arrangement and knew the healer would be even more so.
With his strength waning as the sun climbed higher, Jacques carefully carried Raven’s broken body to the chamber below and settled her on a blanket. After locking the cabin, securing the windows, and shutting off the generator, Jacques swung Shea’s slight body into his arms. She gave a soft murmur of protest, but her arms crept up around his neck, and her body settled into his trustingly. She was in a light sleep by the time he took her below to the underground chamber.
Gregori stumbled after them, far too drained to bother with floating. He lay across the entrance to the lair and remained there. With Jacques he uttered the words commanding the earth to close them off from the day and cast spells to safeguard them from intruders. Before he slipped off to sleep, he remembered the meadow with the wire strung across it and sent off a silent warning to anything that might try to venture into it. Later he would dismantle the dangerous traps.
Jacques packed healing earth and saliva over Shea’s wounds and then Raven’s. Only then did he curl his body protectively around his lifemate’s before committing himself to sleep.
The rain continued throughout the day. The precipitation was natural and fell in a steady drizzle that cast the land in a gray, depressing hue. Few animals ventured out under the relentless downpour. The storm had been far too long, unpredictable, and dangerous. Around the small cabin in the woods, an uneasiness warned all life forms away from the area. Few humans frequented the deep forest there because of its wild lands, wild animals, and wild legends.
You must live, small one. You must live to save our race, to save all of mankind. There is no one alive on this earth who could stop me. Live for me, for your parents.
Something stirred in his mind. Shocked that an unborn child could exhibit such power and intelligence, he nonetheless felt its presence, tiny, wavering, unsure. All the same the being was there, and he latched on to it, sheltered it close to his heart for a long while before he reluctantly allowed himself to sleep again.
Jacques came alert the moment the sun faded from the sky. Gregori was already gone, racing across the sky in search of prey. Jacques joined him in the hunt, needing the nourishment. They would be working with Byron today, and that meant Jacques would have to feed several times. He soared across the sky, his heart pumping and the blood rushing through his veins. He felt very alive.
We cannot leave the women unguarded for long, Jacques.
Gregori’s voice shimmered in his head.
The vampire will be angry that his goal was not achieved.
Jacques sent out a call across the gray sky. It echoed silently for miles. A small cabin tucked into a grove of trees held three hunters huddled together beside a fire. He changed course immediately when he felt their presence. Gregori glided beside him. Hunting was automatic, easy, calling prey to them normal. But in this instance it was more expedient to simply go where it was.
Dark Desire (Dark Series - book 2) Page 30
