Christine Feehan 5 CARPATHIAN NOVELS

by Christine Feehan

  Riordan beckoned with his fingers, and MaryAnn forced one foot in front of the other, reluctantly following his lead. Juliette was behind her, looking small and compact and alert. She moved with grace and ease through the surprisingly spacious forest floor. The forest was damp and so relentlessly dark, yet she could see colors she shouldn’t have been able to see. MaryAnn was a little shocked at the vast variety of shades. As she walked, she was surprised by the absence of animals. She’d always thought creatures were everywhere in the forest, waiting to pounce on the unwary visitor, but as they walked single file, there was only an occasional flutter of wings overhead.

  She had also expected the forest floor to be an impenetrable jungle, but it was open and easy to walk through. Trees rose all around her, giant, smooth trunks rising without branches, nearly to the canopy. Roots flared out of the bases like snakes, writhing across the ground. Some trees appeared as if they were held up by a myriad of stilts. Climbing plants hung everywhere. Lianas tangled like ropes, knotting the trees together and forming a hidden highway up in the canopy. Vines crept up the trunks, weaving their way through orchids and over shrubs, ferns and the moss sprouting from the branches. She walked over dead leaves, seedlings, fallen boughs and twisted roots reaching in all directions like tentacles across the forest floor.

  MaryAnn was so scared. Terrified in fact. She hadn’t been this frightened since a man had broken into her home and nearly killed her. If her best friend, Destiny, had been there, she would have admitted it aloud, talked it over and maybe even laughed at herself. But she didn’t know these people. She was entirely out of her element, and it was only her intense need to help others that drove her forward.

  She’d dressed in her most comforting clothes, trying to give herself courage. Her Forzieri embroidered jacket, short and stylish in brown distressed leather, matched her boots and gave her added confidence. The embroidery on the back was too cute for words, and the linen ruffles gave the jacket an elegant renaissance look. Pairing the jacket with her Seven jeans, with their wide waistband settling below her belly button and so comfortable she barely knew they were there, and her all-time-favorite, wear-anywhere-and-look-like-a-million-bucks Vera Cristina V-neck tee with intricate beadwork in turquoise, gold and clear beads, she couldn’t have looked better. Well. If you didn’t count her hair. She reached up to pat it. Out of desperation, she’d managed to braid it into one very thick braid. She hadn’t bothered with more than stud earrings because she figured anything else might be a hindrance. As her heel sank into the vegetation, she realized she was hopelessly out of her depth and totally inappropriately dressed. She blinked back tears and kept walking.

  If Manolito was alive, where was he? Why couldn’t she reach for him after she had that horrible moment when the knowledge had hit her that a jaguar was attacking him? She had tried to stop it, throwing up her hands to catch it, to put herself in its path, screaming a warning, but no one had understood, and how could she explain without sounding crazy that for one moment she had been there—in the forest—standing between Manolito and certain death.

  Riordan and Juliette looked grim, but hadn’t provided answers to her fearful questions. They had practically thrown her in the truck, Riordan almost rude. He had been intimidating, much like his brothers, but never really rude, not until now.

  As if reading her thoughts, Juliette moved up beside her. “I’m sorry. This must be difficult for you.”

  “It’s not my thing,” MaryAnn admitted, wanting to turn around and run for the safety of the truck. She kept walking after Riordan. “But I can handle it.” Because that’s what she did when someone needed help. And she wasn’t about to leave Manolito De La Cruz alone in the rain forest with jaguars attacking him. She could barely breathe with her desire to see him alive and well.

  Her chest hurt, her heart felt like a stone, and her eyes burned constantly with the need to weep for his death. She needed to see him. Hear him. Touch him. It made no sense, but right then it didn’t matter. She had to be with him or she wasn’t going to survive. Although she tried hard to keep her face averted from Juliette, she was aware of the woman casting anxious glances at her.

  “He is alive,” Juliette said quietly.

  “You don’t know that,” MaryAnn choked out. “The jaguar—” She stopped to try to regain control before speaking. “It was attacking him. I felt the claws tearing through his flesh.” She pressed her hand to her stomach as if she were wounded.

  “Riordan would know.” Juliette cast a swift, worried glance at her lifemate as she kept pace with MaryAnn. She didn’t know why, but she was beginning to have misgivings about whether or not Manolito was alive. It was crazy, because the De La Cruz brothers would know if he was dead, and through them, she would know. “My people are jaguar. If one of them attacked Manolito, I fear what Riordan and his brothers might do in retaliation. The jaguar has always left the Carpathians strictly alone. Out here, one chooses one’s battles. A single scratch can result in a life-threatening infection.”

  Riordan, are you certain Manolito is alive? I am feeling grief and a terrible sense of oppression and dread. Juliette needed her lifemate to reassure her; she was no longer able to discern the truth.

  Riordan took a breath. He, too, was feeling grief and an unreasonable fear for his brother’s life. He reached out to his eldest brother, Zacarias, the one person they could always rely on. Do you feel Manolito? Can you tell if he still lives?

  There was a moment while Zacarias touched Manolito. He is alive, but shielding himself. Do you have need of me?

  Zacarias was at the ranch house with the rest of the family, and Riordan wanted him to stay there. Zacarias would not allow Juliette’s younger sister and cousin freedom. He would insist on bringing them back to the ranch to protect them, and neither would come willingly. That wouldn’t stop Zacarias. He ruled with a snap of his bared teeth and his enormous power, expecting—and getting—everyone’s instant obedience.

  It is best if no one is here when we contact Jasmine and Solange. Jasmine needs MaryAnn’s help, and neither she nor her cousin will come forward voluntarily if you and Nicolas are here.

  Do not cater to stupidity, Riordan. I realize you must make your lifemate happy, but not at the expense of endangering women, especially potential life-mates. Just like that, Zacarias was gone, giving his opinion and expecting that Riordan would follow his advice. It wasn’t that easy if you had a lifemate. Solange would fight him to the death for her freedom, and if he put so much as a scratch on her, Juliette wouldn’t forgive him.

  Riordan sighed and once more tried to reach out to Manolito. The man was hiding. He had risen, and he was most likely close to the fertile bed of terra preta. As badly as he was wounded, he would need the rich black soil to survive.

  MaryAnn was very aware of Riordan’s scrutiny. She didn’t turn around to look at Juliette, but she knew they were talking telepathically about her. She didn’t quite trust them; after all, what did she really know about them?

  Juliette prodded Riordan. Why am I feeling so upset?

  I believe it is the woman broadcasting. She may be a much more powerful psychic than we were led to believe. I, too, am feeling her emotions. Is it possible she is jaguar?

  Juliette inhaled MaryAnn’s scent and watched the movements of her body closely. MaryAnn was nearly running in her fashionable, high-heeled boots, the soles barely skimming the forest floor. She looked utterly out of place but…There is no sound, Riordan. She makes no sound when she moves. No leaves crackling, no branches snapping. She should be awkward—she feels awkward—but she moves like one born and bred here. But she is not jaguar.

  Riordan sucked in his breath, slowing the pace just a bit so that MaryAnn wouldn’t notice. Was the woman part of a trap? What did they know about her after all? Manolito had never claimed her openly, as any lifemate would. He had never told his brothers to watch over her, as a true lifemate would do. Riordan probed gently, keeping the touch light and casual.

  Mar
yAnn brushed her head with her hand as she continued walking, and Riordan felt the psychic slap as if she’d actually struck him. He jerked back to himself and threw a quick glance at his lifemate, truly shocked.

  What are we dealing with, Juliette?

  MaryAnn had been protected by no less than three powerful Carpathian hunters. If she was vampire, surely they would have detected it. Deliberately, just to be safe, he turned the wrong way, moving away from where he knew his brother had been buried.

  MaryAnn took three steps and immediately everything in her shifted and reached back in the other direction. The feeling was so strong she stopped. “That’s the wrong way. He’s not there. He’s…” She gestured, her heart pounding.

  What was Riordan doing, leading them the wrong way? Didn’t they want to find him? Why were they keeping him away? The seeds of suspicion were growing, and she couldn’t suppress them. She turned away from the direction Riordan was leading, suddenly confused. She couldn’t figure out why she thought she knew where Manolito was. She tried repeatedly to reach for him, to brush her mind against his, but she couldn’t do it, couldn’t find him. The more she tried, the more she knew she wasn’t in the least psychic. She had no talents, and no ability to be anyone’s lifemate. Still, she was afraid the man was in trouble, and she had to get to him.

  Confused, she took another step away from the Carpathians and stumbled over the stabilizing buttress roots from one of the taller emergents, an enormously tall tree bursting through the canopy to tower over the other trees. The roots were twisted into an elaborate, artful shape, roaming along the surface of the ground, tips probing for nutrients. A small tree frog, bright green in color, leapt from a particularly thick root to land on MaryAnn’s shoulder.

  She stifled a scream and froze. “Get it off. Get it off me, right now,” she ordered, her hand closing around the small canister of pepper spray.

  Where are you? I need you. Please be alive. Because she wasn’t a woman made for tree frogs and beetles, but she wasn’t leaving the rain forest until she found the man or his body. She could handle the dark of an alley in the city any day of the week, but she detested walking in the mud and rotting leaves, with the oppressive darkness and the silence closing in around her. She felt eyes watching every step she took.

  Juliette whispered softly, although it was her mind she reached out with, to ask the frog to get off MaryAnn. Juliette had an affinity for animals, and even reptiles and amphibians sometimes responded, but in this case, the frog moved closer to MaryAnn’s neck, clinging with its sticky feet.

  Get off me! MaryAnn screamed it in her head, not able to wait for the frog to obey Juliette’s command. Right now! “Get off!” she yelled aloud.

  Evidently the creature had had enough of humans, and it leapt to the nearest tree trunk, landing near two other small frogs. Overhead, in the canopy, a small monkey threw leaves at the trio of amphibians.

  MaryAnn closed her eyes, took a deep breath and began walking again, this time, in spite of the high heels on her boots, picking up the pace until she was practically running. She pushed past Riordan, who looked shocked. When he would have started after her, Juliette caught his arm and gestured to the trees around them. Small frogs dotted the trunks and branches, leaping from one tree to the next, following MaryAnn’s progress. Overhead, in the canopy, monkeys used the highway of tangled vines to converge and follow the woman as she made her way through the forest.

  Do you think the vampire is here? Juliette asked.

  Riordan did another, much more careful and thorough scan of the surrounding forest. If so, he is a master at hiding his presence. I know they are getting much more clever about such things, so we will need to be fully alert to all danger to her. She is drawn to Manolito, and perhaps can find him even faster than we can, as he is shielding his presence from me.

  Juliette frowned as they began to follow MaryAnn. Your blood bond should keep you informed of his whereabouts.

  Riordan sent her a small smile. We are ancients, Juliette, and we have studied many things over the centuries. Manolito can hide his presence even from our best hunters, and there is no detecting Zacarias when he does not want it known that he is near.

  MaryAnn realized tears were running down her face. The sense of dread and fear was overwhelming. Where are you? Find me. She continued to try calling to Manolito mentally, although clearly she didn’t have the psychic gifts they all thought she did.

  As she moved deeper into the interior of the forest, she noticed that the greens weren’t quite so vivid. Leaves and shrubs appeared to have a veil of fog over them, changing the vibrant color to a dull gray. Shadows grew where there had been none. First she had seen bright colors in the dark, and now she was seeing shadows when she shouldn’t be able to. Terror moved through her, but she couldn’t stop going. Whispers plagued her mind as she began to jog. She didn’t jog. She wasn’t a jogger, or a runner of any kind, but she found herself hurrying through the forest in an effort to get to Manolito.

  Something pushed her onward when all around the forest grew darker and the rustling above her head more pronounced. Once, she risked a look up, but there were small furry things swinging over her head, and it made her feel dizzy and slightly sick. She stumbled and nearly fell, putting out her hand to break her fall. Her long, beautifully manicured nails dug into the wet moss. One nail broke. A dozen green frogs leapt onto her arm and clung with their sticky webbed feet.

  She froze. The frogs stared at her with huge, black, green-lidded eyes. They were shiny, with spots on their underbellies and matching green toenails, as if they wore polish. Tongues darted out, tasting the leather of her jacket. MaryAnn shuddered and looked back at Juliette.

  “Why are they doing that?”

  Juliette didn’t have an answer for her. She’d never seen the frogs congregate together in such numbers before, and she’d spent most of her life in the rain forest.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s unusual behavior.” Riordan, they ignore even the strongest of pushes. There was alarm in both her voice and her mind.

  Riordan set Juliette behind him, regarding the frogs with suspicion. “When creatures do not act as they should, it is best to destroy them.”

  MaryAnn’s breath caught in her throat. She shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean for you to kill them. Maybe they’re just curious about my jacket.” She made a scooting gesture with her free hand. “Move along, little froggies.” Hurry before the big bad Carpathian fries you all. I mean it, you’ve got to move. Silently she urged them to cooperate, while mentally rolling her eyes. For heaven’s sake, how much damage could a tiny little innocent tree frog do, after all? She didn’t want to see Riordan do anything like rain down fire on the poor helpless things. “Shoo, shoo. Go back to your little froggy homes.”

  The frogs took to the trees, the movement sending a strange wave of green over the tangle of roots, as dozens of frogs skittered away toward the safety of the higher branches. MaryAnn sent Riordan a small little sniff. “What were you going to do, make them into shish kebab? Poor little things. They’re probably as scared as I am.”

  Did you feel that, Juliette? That surge of power? She made the frogs leave. And she’s sneering at me. Sneering. He was going to have to revise his thinking about his brother’s lifemate. “Those frogs are poisonous. Natives used them for years to tip their arrows,” he couldn’t resist adding.

  MaryAnn straightened slowly, automatically looking at her broken nail. Her nails grew abnormally fast, they always had, but now her nail polish was going to be a mess. And it was hurting like hell. It always did when she broke off a nail. Her finger would throb and burn and tingle as the nail regenerated.

  She flicked a scowl at Riordan. “Don’t try to scare me with frogs. I don’t like them, but I’m not that big of a city girl.” She was, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “They really are toxic,” Juliette confirmed. “Riordan is telling the truth. It isn’t normal to see so many frogs in one area, an
d they certainly shouldn’t be following us.”

  MaryAnn glanced at the frogs surrounding them. “Are they following?” The idea made her nervous. She didn’t want them killed, but she wanted them gone. Out of sight. Of course then they might be hidden in the foliage, staring with their giant eyes just like everything else in the rain forest seemed to be doing.

  “Yes, and so are the monkeys,” Riordan said, folding his arms across his chest and indicating the canopy with a nod of his chin.

  MaryAnn was afraid to look. Frogs were one thing—and she chose to leave out the poisonous part—but monkeys were furry little beasts with near-human hands and big teeth. She knew that because once, just once, she’d gone to the zoo and the monkeys had all been insane, screaming and jumping around, baring huge teeth at her through what appeared to be smiles. It had been a horrible day, not as bad as this one, but she’d vowed never to go to a zoo again.

  MaryAnn squared her shoulders and elevated her chin a notch. “Do you have an explanation for why these creatures aren’t behaving normally?”

  “I thought I did,” Riordan admitted. “I believed a vampire might be using their eyes and ears to gather information, but now I am not so certain.”

  Her heart jumped when she heard the word “vampire.” She’d been expecting it ever since she’d entered the dark oppression of the rain forest, but she still wasn’t prepared. She longed for the normalcy of gangs hanging out on the corner. She could quell the street toughs with one look, but a herd of frogs or monkeys commanded by vampires…Was it herd? She didn’t even know. She didn’t belong in the animal kingdom. She desperately wanted to go home.

  As soon as the thought was completed, grief welled up, swamping her. More than sorrow, she felt need, a compulsion to keep moving, to hurry. She turned away from Riordan and Juliette, toward the direction the pull was strongest. She couldn’t leave this terrible place until she found Manolito.