Dark 18 - Dark Possession
Page 31
He shook his head. "I will never let you have her, Maxim, no matter what you do to me. No matter what you show to me."
Kirja plunged his fist into MaryAnn's chest and pulled out her heart, holding it high in the air while she screamed. Manolito's body jerked, but he stood impassive. If his fate was to endure the next centuries feeling her pain and watching her torture, he would do so. They could not have her. It may have been only minutes, or hours—time meant little in this place—but it seemed lifetimes, centuries, watching the other half of his soul being forced to endure whatever Kirja, Maxim or Draven conceived. The sound of MaryAnn's pleas and screams, the images of her torture were burned forever into his heart, his mind and even deeper into his soul.
"He cannot love her to stand there like that," Draven said. "Any man would break if he saw his true lifemate so brutally handled."
Manolito looked through him. Draven Dubrinsky would never know what love was. Manolito knew. He felt it in every blow of Kirja's hand, every kick of his feet, every touch on MaryAnn's body. An illusion. All illusion.
He forced a smile when he could feel blood running down his body in rivers of sweat. That, too, was an illusion. "A game, Maxim, that is all. You play games with me and you know I will never break. You know me. So keep it up if you must, but it seems childish, even for you."
Maxim snarled, showing his pegs for teeth, and waved the illusion away.
"Acknowledge me," Draven snarled, already furious that the Carpathian male wouldn't look at him.
"I have no wish to speak with you, see you or in any way render you real," he said, watching Maxim more than Draven. Vlad's son had power, but it was Maxim who had the cunning and the hatred enough to return to destroy the Carpathian people.
"I find it—distasteful—Maxim, that you would choose to spend time with one such as this. He caused the death of our beloved sister. You may have embraced him, but I do not wish to spend time with him. Do not think I fear one such as this reject from the Dubrinskv lineage. Long ago I would have welcomed the chance to take his life. It would have been nothing against the loss of one such as Ivory, but still, I would have welcomed it, as you should have, Maxim."
He kept his gaze fixed firmly on Maxim, his tone dripping with contempt.
Maxim growled, spittle running down his chin as he swung his head from side to side in a threatening manner. "Do not use that condescending attitude with me. Your disloyalty proved long ago whose side you were on."
For the first time, Manolito allowed a whip of anger to seep into his voice, and he lashed Maxim with it. "Do not dare use the term disloyal when your sister's murderer stands at your side. You have sunk lower than I thought possible, becoming the dog for this foul abomination. Crawl on your knees to him, Maxim, like those who seek your approval. Lick his boots if you must. I have no further business with you, not when this…" Deliberately he waved his hand toward Draven. "This… piece of garbage is your master."
"I am royalty," Draven snapped. "You should be on your knees to me."
Manolito didn't bother to spare him a glance. He kept his gaze locked with Maxim's as he conjured up a picture in his mind of Ivory. For him, she was as fresh and as pure as the last time he'd seen her, her memory such a part of him it would never fade. He sent it along the path of their blood bond. Ivory with her laughter and her bright soul shining. Ivory flinging her arms around Maxim and kissing his cheek. Ivory standing outside the Malinov home, sword in hand, blindfolded in the middle of the circle of her five brothers and the De La Cruz brothers as they taught her to fight.
Stop it! Maxim screamed, pressing his fingers to his eye sockets.
Manolito projected the loving memories as relentlessly as Maxim had tormented him with MaryAnn's torture. Ivory as a young child riding on Maxim's shoulders. Her first time in the air with her brothers surrounding her, keeping her safe, Ruslan always beneath her, Maxim and Kirja on either side, while Vadim and Sergey prowled the air in front and behind. Her laughter. The moon illuminating her brightness as she raced down the stairs to greet them when they returned from battle.
Stop it. I beg you. Stop it.
Because in the meadow of shadows and mists, the ghosts could feel every emotion. Hatred. Bitterness. Sorrow. Regret. They were meant to feel it like the lash of the whip, driving home their destructive path. It was why Manolito so acutely felt the emotions pouring into him, even when he knew the scene of MaryAnn's torture was illusion. He was meant to feel what he had not all those long centuries.
Maxim had no choice but to feel the love for his sister. Emotions poured into his mind with every memory. He covered his face with his hands and fell to his knees.
"You stand with the man who would have done those very things to her that you wanted done to my lifemate. Should I show you what was in Draven's mind? The perversions he would have inflicted upon Ivory?"
Manolito would never have been able to do such a thing, but he knew Maxim would conjure them up in his own mind. He would know that he stood shoulder to shoulder with the one who had ultimately taken Ivory from them. He planned evil with the one who would have committed the ultimate betrayal of her.
"No. I cannot think of her."
There were so many memories. Manolito felt the tears in his own heart. Ivory. He had loved her as a sister. She had brightened all their lives with her generous spirit and compassionate nature.
"You have done what you intended, Manolito."
They all whirled around to face the couple who had come up so quietly behind them. Vlad and Sarantha stood hand in hand.
"You should not be here," Manolito said. He glanced at Draven, at the snicker on his face, and wanted to smash something. Vlad and his lifemate deserved so much more from a son. "This is my mess, and I will find a way to clean it up." He wanted to spare them the pain of facing the monster Draven had been. Somehow, he knew Ivory would have wanted that rather than revenge.
"You have destroyed their plans and managed to bring Maxim to the realization of what he has done. He will not aid his brothers," Vlad said. "Your time here is over. I have yet to do my duty and then ours will be, too."
Manolito looked down at his hands. They were no longer transparent. He closed his fingers into a tight fist and then opened his hand once again.
"We stand with you always," Manolito said, knowing Vlad would understand he meant every De La Cruz.
"You and your brothers have been loyal to our people," Vlad said." I trust that you will aid the jaguars as best you can, and give that same loyalty I have always counted on to my sons."
Sarantha stepped close to him and touched the scars. "You saved Mikhail's life. And you saved our son, Jacques, by stepping in front of Shea and taking the poisoned knife. You also saved our unborn grandson. I thank you. It is not enough, but it is all I have to give."
Vlad gripped his forearms. "Go now. Leave this place. You do not belong here anymore. Let me take care of the business I should have centuries ago. Live large and well, old friend."
Manolito stepped away. He felt himself reaching for MaryAnn. For his brothers. For life. He stopped for a moment to observe Vlad and Sarantha face their son.
"You have had many years here, Draven, and we have stood by you, but no longer. Even here, when you are given the chance to redeem yourself, you refuse. We accept your decision. Go now, from this place to the next."
"No! You cannot. I am your son." For the first time, the smirk was gone from Draven's face. He threw himself at his mother, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Do not let him condemn me. He cannot send me away."
"We condemn you, as we should have so many years ago, Draven," Sarantha said, conviction in her voice. "Go now. Perhaps in the next place you will learn far more than we could ever teach you."
Draven screamed as black smoke curled around him, pouring from his body to surround him. Shadows moved along the ground, skittered over the trees. The vines pushed up from the earth, long, tangled barbs on the seeking tentacles. The vampires stood mesmerized, som
e with smiles, others with nervous scowls, but all frozen as Draven tried to run.
The vines reared back, coiled like snakes, and then lashed out, circling Draven's ankles. They yanked hard, and he fell into a nest of greedy claws reaching out of the ground for him. One moment he was there, wrapped in the barbs, his mouth opened wide in a now-silent scream, the next he was gone, swallowed by a black hole.
There was silence. Sarantha dropped her head on Vlad's shoulder. He held her close, protectively, sheltering her against his larger body. Manolito could feel the pull of his own world drawing him, and he went, eager to get back to his own lifemate, to hold her in his arms and shelter her the way Vlad had Sarantha throughout their centuries together. When he glanced back, all he could see of them was blazing light, and then that, too, was gone and he was back in his own body.
MaryAnn gasped and threw her arms around him, fitting neatly, perfectly, into his frame. He smiled over her head at Riordan. "Thank you," he said simply. And meant it.
Chapter Eighteen
"Are you all right? Did they hurt you?" MaryAnn skimmed her hand anxiously down Manolito's chest. "I was so worried about you."
"No, meu amor, but you—I saw you with blood on your shoulder and belly." He touched her bare shoulder where the angry marks showed, then tugged up her shirt to examine the bare expanse of flesh.
Riordan cleared his throat. "I am still here."
Neither looked up or acknowledged his statement.
MaryAnn ran her hands under Manolito's shirt. "How did you get out of that place? I was right, wasn't I? Maxim was trying to kill you." She went up on her toes to press half a dozen kisses down Manolito's throat. "You are free of the shadow world for good, aren't you?"
Riordan scratched his head. "I just want to say one word here. Vampire. Are you listening, Manolito? She fought a vampire."
That got through. Manolito pulled her closer and this time did a long examination of the wounds.
"I removed all the parasites, if you're interested," Riordan said.
Manolito swept her once again against him, raining kisses along her shoulder, his heart leaping in his chest and then settling into a steady rhythm. He should have thought of their blood. If they had managed to pull her into their world with the infected blood in her system, the blood would have called to them. Xavier might have been able to find a way to resurrect his dead army after all.
"I have to check, MaryAnn," he said, framing her face in his hands. "I have to be certain nothing can harm you."
"Hello! That's such an insult, bro," Riordan said, but he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. They had it bad, those two. Stubborn as mules, but still, they had eyes only for each other.
MaryAnn buried her face against Manolito's throat, circling her arms around his neck. "Take me somewhere safe where I can breathe." She wanted to touch him, inspect every inch of his body to make certain he hadn't been harmed.
"We actually have a few things of importance to discuss," Riordan tried again, knowing it was in vain, but figuring he could rack up a few teasing jabs he could pull out later on his brother. Big bad Manolito was putty in the hands of his lifemate. "You know, things like the wolf. Bad blood. What happened in the spirit world."
Manolito lifted MaryAnn into his arms, ignoring his youngest brother. "I know a place you will love."
Riordan rolled his eyes. "I guess I'll just leave you two alone." His grin widened when neither looked his way. "I can take care of Solange and Jasmine for the night, if you two—you know—want some alone time." They didn't even appear grateful for that. He shook his head and dissolved. There was no use trying to get anything of importance out of either of them tonight.
MaryAnn closed her eyes and laid her head against Manolito's chest, turning her face up to the night sky. She might never get used to flying through the air, but as long as he held her so close, she could enjoy being in his arms. The wind and mist were cool on her face, and she felt safe as he whisked her over the canopy toward his surprise destination.
It didn't take long to find the entrance to the underground cavern Manolito had discovered years earlier. The island had only two sections where the terrain rolled into what could be called hills, and they were covered in thick forest. A waterfall poured into a pool that fed the stream running down toward the river surrounding the island, picking up strength as it went, rushing and frothing over boulders and smaller rocks until it poured into the larger body of water.
MaryAnn looked around her as he set her on her feet. "It's breathtaking." Flowers wound up and down the trunks of the trees, blossoming in every vibrant color possible. The sound of the water added to the beauty and wildness of the place, yet it seemed a private cocoon where no one would disturb them.
Manolito waved his hands at the waterfall, and the heavy stream parted to reveal a ledge behind it. He caught her up and leapt, taking her through the spray to set her on the other side. "This was an incredible find."
"It certainly is beautiful," she agreed, trying to still the uneasiness in her as she looked around for bugs. Bugs and bats. "Aren't there like a zillion different kinds of bugs in caves?" Her voice came out in a little squeak.
Manolito laughed. "You just fought a vampire, MaryAnn."
"Yes, well, I don't think the wolf is going to come leaping out because I see a crawly thing—no matter how scared of it I might be."
He laughed. "Good point."
He flicked a hand toward what appeared to be a crack in the rocks, and at once light threw the narrow tunnel behind it into relief. Slipping inside, Manolito stepped back so MaryAnn could get a clear view of the walls of tunnel leading deeper under the hill. Rows of torches cast dancing shadows along the way and illuminated the drawings covering the rock walls.
He gestured for her to go in front of him. When she hesitated, he caught her hand and tugged her to him, nuzzling her neck. "Your wolf will love this place."
She relaxed against his body, tilting her head to look up at him. "I'm sure she will, but I was thinking more along the lines of a five-star hotel. Is that really asking too much? I mean, come on, Manolito, a cave. Do I look like a woman who goes exploring dark places where bugs congregate?"
She hadn't even mentioned the bats, and maybe she was getting all girly on him, but really, didn't Carpathians believe in hotels? "I don't have enough bug spray for something like this."
"I will take care of the bugs for you. Give it a chance. You will love it."
She sighed. He had that smile and those eyes, and the sound of his laughter, even though the sound was in her mind, made her stomach bottom out. She was merged with him and read how "cute" he found her. She would never have described herself as cute, but what the heck, she'd take it when he was enjoying himself. He wasn't a man to laugh much, so fine, she'd walk into his cave.
"I understand where you get the whole Neanderthal mentality if you hang out here all the time," she mumbled, but she slid through the crack, careful not to touch either side of the rock.
She swallowed fear and forced herself to walk a little way inside, just enough for Manolito to get through as well. They stood close, his body heat warming her as she studied the numerous drawings of animals on the walls. It was like an art museum of work over centuries of time. Crude stick figures gave way to more elaborate and detailed work, all holding a unique beauty and giving off a sense of timelessness. The paintings depicted a society of jaguar people. Some were in human form, some in the middle of shifting and some fully in cat form.
"Do you think they lived together like this at one time?" MaryAnn asked, touching one of the drawn cat's ears with gentle fingers. "There's a campfire. Men have their arms around women, and children are playing. Was it ever like this?"
"I never saw them that way, and I have been around a long time, but the jaguar and lycan really were secretive about their societies. I fought beside them a couple of times, but never saw them in their own environments."
"You should show this to Luiz."
There was something in his voice, in his mind, she caught. A sadness. Wariness. She stilled, leaning back into him. "You're afraid Luiz won't make it."
He wrapped his arms around her. "I find that having emotions, particularly fear, can be disturbing. I am worried about the possibility. I like the man. I thought I had converted him solely because you asked me to, but now I am not so certain."
She turned in his arms, her hand sliding under his hair to curl around the nape of his neck. "If he doesn't, Manolito, it isn't your fault. You've given him every chance, more than he ever would have gotten. And thank you—whether you did it solely for me, for him, or because he is a friend—thank you."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "You are very welcome." He framed her face with his hands. "I have to check for myself that the vampire didn't leave anything behind that could harm you. I need a minute."
"Riordan did a good job healing me. I'm a little achy, but other than that, the shoulder and my stomach feel fine."
He didn't argue, merely let his physical body drop away and his spirit enter hers, taking his time to make certain not a single parasite had hidden from Riordan. When he came back to himself, she was tapping her foot.
"Are you satisfied?"
"Yes. For now. Later I intend to inspect every inch of your skin."
"Fine. I'm doing the same to you."
He grinned at her. "Come, let me show you this place." He waved casually toward the entrance, and the crack in the boulders groaned and creaked so that she gasped and nearly climbed up his shoulders.
"What the hell was that?" She literally crawled up his body. "I think this cave is coming down on top of us, Manolito."