Dark Nights

Chapter Thirteen

Joie awoke quickly. One moment she knew nothing, and the next she was fully conscious. She heard the steady fall of water, the thrum of life beating in the earth. She felt different, completely alive, yet her body ached and her neck felt torn. She turned her head to look at the man holding her.

Traian lay beside her, his arms around her, one hand on her bare stomach, his fingers splayed wide. His long hair fell like a dark waterfall around his face. His eyes were dark, wide open, framed with long lashes, so beautiful she wanted to fall into the deep well of love she saw there.

They were lying in a deep hole in the damp soil of a cave. Overhead the ceiling sparkled with crystals, and water shimmered in a pool not far from them. She knew it, saw it, yet it should have been impossible, buried in the soil as they were.

“Open the ground above us,” she ordered, trying not to let her pounding heart get so out of control she had a heart attack.

“Carpathians do not have heart attacks,” he said, a smile in his voice, but he obligingly opened the earth above them so she could see the gems on the ceiling of the cave they occupied.

“I was seeing what you’ve seen,” she guessed. Her voice was different, husky, not at all the way she’d sounded before. “The gems. The pool.”

“Yes.” His teeth nipped her shoulder. “We’re in a cave I used to swim in as a young man.”

Joie looked around her, reached out, and touched the damp soil. “It’s a darned good thing I don’t have a cleanliness fetish. Aren’t beds appropriate when you’re injured?” She was trying very hard to keep the nerves out of her voice, resorting, as usual when she was uncertain, to humor.

“The soil heals us.” He kissed her neck, swirled his tongue over the wounds on her neck. “We can remove all traces of dirt easily. Our wounds were packed earlier with soil but are very clean now. I will repack them before we go to sleep again.”

“How lovely for us. Are there worms in this particular little bed of soil? And did I happen to mention worms in any of our talks?”

“I do not believe you did.”

“There was a reason for that.” Her fingers tangled with his. His hand on her stomach was soothing her in some way she didn’t understand. Her insides ached. “Did someone take a baseball bat to me?”

“No. The conversion is difficult.”

She didn’t want to remember the horror of that seemingly endless pain. The complete loss of control. The helpless feeling she had or the look in his eyes. Especially the look in his eyes. Begging forgiveness. He’d looked guilty, terrified of losing her. She recalled the blood-red tears that had fallen on her face. “Yes, it was difficult.” She touched his face with gentle fingers and gave him a faint smile. “For both of us.”

Traian caught her fingers and pulled them into the heat of his mouth. “You scared me. I will admit that to you now.” He nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Watching you have to go through such pain was almost more than I could bear. You saved everyone there at the inn with your sacrifice, you know that, don’t you?”

“We all worked together,” Joie said. “I knew you would come. I just had to buy us some time.”

“All of you were more than lucky. Any vampire is difficult to defeat, but master vampires have lived for century upon century, growing in strength and power. They use others as minions and puppets and keep themselves from dangerous battles. They sacrifice lesser pawns and slide away when hunters are in the area. They only fight when they are assured of victory. Valenteen had a reputation as a fierce hunter. It helped that mage blood ran in your veins. He had more trouble getting past the barriers in your minds and controlling you. Gary is protected by Gregori, so he wasn’t as susceptible as most humans would be.”

“Do you really think we’re descendents of a mage?” Joie asked, once again stroking her fingers over his lips.

“I do not think there is much doubt. The genetics are quite strong in your brother and since you claim he is a full blood brother, the mage is in all of you. I believe that is what allowed you to resist Valenteen the way you did.”

“I can’t really recall much after I landed on the floor. Jubal and Gabrielle are all right, aren’t they? I vaguely remember Gabrielle’s hand holding mine and once I felt my brother very close. Tell me they’re both okay. They had to have been terrified when that nasty vampire ripped my neck open.”

Traian felt the tremor run through her and pressed his body closer. “They were incredible.” He still had trouble believing that neither of them looked at him with blame. And Gabrielle had been so generous in her parting words to him. “They are both fine. Gary took them to our prince. They are with Mikhail and his lifemate, under their protection. I like your brother and sister very much.”

Joie covered the hand pressed into her stomach. “You sound a little surprised. Haven’t you liked many humans?”

“I never really thought about it before. We live in the world with humans and protect them, but to keep our race safe, we have always remained apart. This has been my first close contact with humans where they actually know who and what I am. I found your family to be accepting and tolerant of me and my people, even with all the danger I brought with me. I feel genuine affection and admiration for Jubal and Gabrielle, which is somewhat of a surprise to me.”

“And Gary? Is he all right?”

“He is fine, Joie. Gary is an extraordinary man and obviously trusted by our prince.” Traian rubbed her nose with the pad of his finger, and then traced her mouth.

Joie smiled and nibbled gently at his hand. He touched her continually, as if seeking the reassurance of physical contact.

“You’d better have a deep affection for my brother and sister,” she cautioned with a wry smile. “It’s the only safe thing to do with those two. And with my parents also, I might add. They’re going to drive you crazy, so you have to love them, otherwise you’d do them in. I can’t wait for you to meet my mom and dad.” She burst out laughing at the thought.

“Why do you do that?” Traian asked suspiciously. “You have a wicked way of laughing every time you mention introducing me to your parents.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from them. Jubal, Gabrielle, and I always go home for visits together. If we team up, we have a chance.”

“I am Carpathian,” he pointed out.

“Like that’s going to matter. But you keep thinking it will.” Her hand fluttered to her neck, still raw and sore from the attack. “How come I didn’t wake up gorgeous and perfect?” Joie glared at him. “I had visions of a makeover.”

“You are gorgeous and perfect.” He sounded puzzled. “I woke you early to give you more blood, but you’ll be going back to the ground until you are fully healed.” He touched his chest. “We both will.”

She turned her head to look more fully at him, and her breath caught in her throat. “Oh, Traian, let me see.” She rose up onto her knees in spite of his restraining hands. “You’re really hurt.”

Her eyes held worry, concern. Her hands moved over his chest with anxious, caressing strokes. Traian held his breath, shocked at the tidal wave of emotion sweeping through him. “It is of no consequence, but thank you for worrying.”

“It’s of great consequence,” she contradicted him. “How do you do that healing thing? Can I do it to you? Would it work?”

He smiled at her, wrapping her up in his arms. “You are Carpathian. Whatever I can do, you can do. Probably more, but if you really want to try it, let’s clean off.”

“Not your way. I love the water on my skin. Is that hot spring there too hot to bathe in?” Joie indicated the pool, although it wasn’t in her sight, but she knew exactly where it was positioned by the map in his head.

“If you want to bathe in a pool, sivamet—my love, we will bathe in a hot pool.” He wrapped his arms around her and floated to the surface. “We may have to sleep during daylight hours, but in truth, few of us long for the day. We were born for the night and for us, it is beautiful. The things we can do make up for our vulnerabilities during daylight hours.”

He kept his arm around her to steady her as he put her feet in the heated pool. Joie had no idea how weak she truly was. He had gone out early to feed before he woke her, needing to supply her with more blood. He could feel her hunger beating at him, although she steadfastly refused to acknowledge it. She needed to cling to her human ways just a little longer, to slowly accept a new, completely different way of life.

Joie was far too courageous and if her family and Gary were true examples of human bravery then he had been missing out on knowing many good people. It made him a little ashamed to think he hadn’t even tried to get to know those humans around him. He hadn’t trusted any of them, and yet when he’d needed help, four generous people had come to his aid. Joie had been so trusting of him, and he honestly didn’t know if he could say had it been the other way around, that he would have been so trusting of her.

He rubbed his chin along the top of her hair, enjoying the feeling of the thick, silky strands against his jaw. Very gently he began to wash her body, his hands moving down the line of her back and smoothing over the curve of her hips. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands began to move over him, tentatively at first, but washing the lacerations and bite marks the insects and bats had made clean, pressing her mouth against the terrible, raw, barely healing wound Valenteen had made in his chest.

The touch of her lips moving against his skin so close to his heart moved him unexpectedly—shook him. His body reacted with a hard, painful ache, shocking in its intensity. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her touch. Blood rushed hotly in his veins, his teeth lengthened, and need pounded through his head.

Joie lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. “Yes,” she whispered. A siren calling to him. “Always yes.”

He had to stop before he lost his head. They were both clean of the soil packs and all traces of the rich loam needed to provided healing and rejuvenation for his people. He swept her up in his arms and floated them back to their earth bed. In concession to her humanity, he pressed a simple sheet over the earth as he took her down to their bed. He could remove it later, after he’d fed her and sent her to sleep.

“Not yet,” she whispered. “I promised myself the first thing I’d learn as a Carpathian was how to heal my husband’s . . . my lifemate’s wounds,” she corrected.

Before he could stop her, she was already leaning over him, her tongue swirling around the edges of his mangled skin.

Traian closed his eyes. He should stop her, just give her blood and send her back to sleep, but the seduction of her mouth was far too enticing. Her tongue was soothing, a gentle caress that took him by surprise. She was attempting the healing chant in her head, the words soft and hesitant, but she got them right. His eyes burned, his throat clogged, and even his chest felt tight. It had not occurred to him that she would try to take care of his wounds—not first—not before anything else. Another woman would have chosen so many other things.

“Silly man,” she whispered. “Of course I’m going to take care of you. I need to take care of you.”

He didn’t open his eyes, afraid she might see tears there. “I thought you were a want kind of woman.”

“True, but women get to change their minds all the time. Right now I need to do this.” She laughed, and her breath was warm against his skin. “You might be surprised at the things I need to do.” Her mouth began to move dangerously lower.

“Oh no, you don’t,” he objected. “You need to heal first, Joie. I am going to give you blood and put you back to sleep.”

She laughed again, blew warm air over the head of his erection. “Really?” Her tongue licked him as if he were an ice cream cone and then swirled and danced and did outrageous things. “I’m back to the ‘I’m a want to kind of woman.’ I want a lot of things right now. And I want you wanting me enough to stop worrying about whether or not I can make love in my delicate condition. And I want your body inside mine. Only you will do, Traian. I’ve fallen desperately in love with you, so, darn it, you have a few responsibilities.”

His breath caught in his lungs as she engulfed his thick shaft, taking him into the heat of her mouth persuasively. He grit his teeth. “Responsibilities? I believe my main responsibility is to see to your health.”

She licked him again, sat up and straddled his hips. “I would be far healthier if you’d take care of a little business. I’m burning up here. Every cell in my body wants yours. I’ll sleep after. I promise.”

She positioned her body over his. There was no denying her, not with that seductive, sexy look of passion on her face. He caught her hips, lifting her into a better angle, and slowly allowed her body to drop over his so that he impaled her, driving through those exquisite, fiery, oh-so-tight petals that reluctantly unfurled from him as he pushed deep inside of her.

Her breath left her lungs in a little rush. His breathing matched hers. She reached out with her hands and he caught them, threading his fingers through hers while she began a slow, sensuous ride, her eyes on his. Her breasts swayed invitingly with every movement while the scorching heat surrounded him.

“You are so beautiful to me,” he whispered. And she was. She filled his heart with her beauty, with her courage, with her complete giving of herself to him.

Traian swept his hand through her hair as he bent his head toward the pulse beating just above her breast. Fire swept through his veins, rushed to his very core as her body sheathed his again and again, those long slow glides that just pushed his hunger higher. He slid his hands up her waist to her breasts, the soft firm flesh drawing his attention. He lingered there for a moment, lavishing attention on first one then the other before he sank his teeth into that beckoning pulse.

Joie threw her head back as the pleasure/pain burst through her like a firestorm. Her feminine sheath clamped down tight, nearly strangling him, as he dragged steely flesh over her sensitive bundle of nerve endings, feeding from her body in the age-old ritual between lifemates. She cried out, a soft broken gasp of startled pleasure, her hands cradling his head to her as she rode him, slowing just a little to better absorb the sensations he created deep in her body.

His tongue slid over the small strawberry he’d left on the swell of her breast and he lifted his gaze to hers. “I need you now, Joie.” His hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, drawing her down over his body toward his chest.

The action pushed his thick shaft hard against her most sensitive bud and she shivered, but she didn’t resist or take her eyes from his as she brought her head toward him. His body shuddered in anticipation.

“Feel your teeth,” he instructed in a low, husky voice. “Can you feel the need pulsing through your body, throbbing in your veins? That dark hunger spreading like a wildfire?”

She nodded.

“Show me. I want to see.”

She opened her mouth to reveal the lengthened teeth. His thick erection jerked with excitement—in anticipation.

“I have waited centuries for this moment,” he whispered, his fingers threading through her cap of dark, silky hair and bunching the strands inside his tightly closed fist.

Joie licked at his broad chest, right over the pounding beat. She felt the answer in her veins. That dark need that throbbed and burned. So much hunger. She couldn’t tell the difference between her sexual appetite and her need to connect them together through his pure, ancient blood. All that mattered was the lust rising in his eyes. The way his body surged into hers, connecting them. The way his mind moved so erotically in hers and that deep well of hunger inflaming her every nerve ending.

She sank her teeth deep. His body arched. His hips slammed deep and hard sending shock waves of sheer pleasure rushing through her. Little whips of lightning sizzled through her veins and rushed to her core. She felt his essence flow into her, filling her the way his mind and body filled her. She would never be alone, always connected to him. She didn’t think she’d ever get enough of him, not his mind, not his blood and certainly not his body. She drank as though starved, embracing the life he’d given her.

Enough, use your tongue to close the wound.

The moment she did as he instructed, Traian trapped her in his arms and rolled over, pinning her underneath him, dragging her legs up over his shoulders, almost in one smooth motion, hands sliding to her hips, taking control. He surged into her over and over, driving her up further and further until she was gasping his name.

He felt her sheath clamp down hard, a fiery sensation that milked and gripped until he couldn’t hold back any longer, emptying himself into her, giving her everything he was. She cried out as the waves of pleasure crashed over and through her. The aftershocks continued as they lay together, holding one another close. Traian spent a good amount of time kissing her before he reluctantly left her body.

“You really need to go to sleep, Joie. I am being far too selfish.”

She laughed softly. “I started it.”

Traian wrapped his body around hers protectively, her head on his shoulder, his breath warm on her neck. “I must say I am glad you did.”

“We only managed to kill two of the master vampires, Traian,” Joie said, nuzzling his shoulder drowsily. “There were three of them, and the other one took your blood. Is that going to be a major problem? Should we go after him?”

“He is long gone, Joie. Perhaps we will not see him for another century, let us hope not. I fear if he returns, his hatred of your brother will outweigh his hatred of the prince.”

“Then we’ll have to stick close to Jubal, although he can never know that’s what we’re doing,” she said, her eyelashes drifting down.

He wrapped his arm around her. “The three of you are so close, I can’t imagine that being a problem, although because the master vampire took my blood, he could conceivably try to use me to spy on my people. I intend to stay away from the prince just to be on the safe side.”

“Perhaps visiting my parents will make tracking down the master vampire who got away much more of an interesting proposition.”

He laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. “I am looking forward to the visit home.”

“Mom won’t be happy I’m not having an elaborate wedding.”

“We will have to give her five or six little grandchildren to make up for it then.” He held his breath.

She turned her head to look at him. “Is that possible?”

“We can only try. If you are willing.”

A slow smile lit her eyes. She leaned into him for a kiss before she settled down again, ready for sleep. “I think it will be the only possible way to appease my mother. I’m all for it.”

“Go to sleep, avio päläfertiilam—my lifemate,” Traian whispered, love rising to overwhelm him. Joie had courage and she would face whatever their future held right beside him. “I am a lucky man.” He gave the command to send her to the deep sleep of their people to allow both of them to heal properly.





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Read on for a

bonus Carpathian story

DARK DREAM





Prologue

The night was black, the moon and stars blotted out by ominous swirling clouds gathering overhead. Threads of shiny black obsidian spun and whirled in a kind of fury, yet the wind was still. Small animals huddled in their dens, beneath rocks and fallen logs, scenting the mood of the land.

Mists floated eerily out of the forest, clinging to the tree trunks so that they seemed to rise up out the fog. Long, wide bands of shimmering white. Swirling prisms of glittering opaque colors. Gliding across the sky, weaving in and out of the overhead canopy, a large owl circled the great stone house built into the high cliffs. A second owl, then a third appeared, silently making lazy circles above the branches and the rambling house. A lone wolf, quite large, with a shaggy black coat and glittering eyes, loped out of the trees into the clearing.

Out of the darkness, on the balcony of the rock house, a figure glided forward, looking out into the night. He opened his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. At once the wind began to move, a soft, gentle breeze. Insects took up their nightly chorus. Branches swayed and danced. The mist thickened and shimmered, forming many figures in the eerie night. The owls settled, one on the ground, two on the balcony railing, shape-shifting as they did, the feathers melting into skin, wings expanding into arms. The wolf was contorting even as it leaped onto the porch, shifting easily on the run so that a man landed, solid and whole.

“Welcome.” The voice was beautiful, melodious, a sorcerer’s weapon. Vladimir Dubrinsky, Prince of the Carpathian people, watched in sorrow as his loyal kindred materialized from the mist, from the raptors and wolves, into strong, handsome warriors. Fighters every one. Loyal men. True. Selfless. These were his volunteers. These were the men he was sending to their death. He was sentencing each of them to centuries of unbearable loneliness, of unrelenting bleakness. They would live out their long lives until each moment was beyond endurance. They would be far from home, far from their kin, far from the soothing, healing soil of their homeland. They would know no hope, have nothing but their honor to aid them in the coming centuries.

His heart was so heavy, Vladimir thought it would break in two. Warmth seeped into the cold of his body, and he felt her stirring in his mind. Sarantha. His lifemate. Of course she would share this moment, his darkest hour, as he sent these young men to their horrendous fate.

They gathered around him, silent, their faces serious—good faces, handsome, sensual, strong. The unblinking, steady eyes of confident men, men who were tried and true, men who had seen hundreds of battles. So many of his best. The wrenching in Vladimir’s body was physical, a fierce burning in his heart and soul. Deep. Pitiless. These men deserved so much more than the ugly life he must give them. He took a breath, let it out slowly. He had the great and terrible gift of precognition. He saw the desperate plight of his people. He had no real choice and could only trust in God to be merciful as he could not afford to be.

“I thank all of you. You have not been commanded but have come voluntarily, the guardians of our people. Each of you has made the choice to give up your chance at life to ensure that our people are safe, that other species in the world are safe. You humble me with your generosity, and I am honored to call you my brethren, my kin.”

There was complete silence. The Prince’s sorrow weighed like a stone in his heart, and, sharing his mind, the warriors caught a glimpse of the enormity of his pain. The wind moved gently through the crowd, ruffled hair with the touch of a father’s hand, gently, lovingly, brushed a shoulder, an arm.

His voice, when it came again, was achingly beautiful. “I have seen the fall of our people. Our women grow fewer. We do not know why female children are not born to our couples, but fewer are conceived than ever before, and even fewer live. It is becoming much more difficult to keep our children alive, male or female. The scarcity of our women has grown to crisis point. Our males are turning vampire, and the evil is spreading across the land faster than our hunters can keep up. Before, in lands far from us, the lycanthroscope and the Jaguar race were strong enough to keep these monsters under control, but their numbers have dwindled and they cannot stem the tide. Our world is changing, and we must meet the new problems head on.”

He stopped, once again looking over their faces. Loyalty and honor ran deep in their blood. He knew each of them by name, knew each of their strengths and weaknesses. They should have been the future of his species, but he was sending them to walk a solitary path of unrelenting hardship.

“All of you must know these things I am about to tell you. Each of you weigh your decision one last time before you are assigned a land to guard. Where you are going there are none of our women. Your lives will consist of hunting and destroying the vampire in the lands where I send you. There will be none of your countrymen to aid you, to be companions, other than those I send with you. There will be no healing Carpathian soil to offer comfort when you are wounded in your battles. Each kill will bring you closer to the edge of the worst possible fate. The demon within will rage and fight you for control. You will be obliged to hang on as long as you are able, and then, before it is too late, before the demon finds and claims you, you must terminate your life. Plagues and hardships will sweep these lands, wars are inevitable, and I have seen my own death and the death of our women and children. The death of mortals and immortals alike.”

That brought the first stirring among the men, a protest unspoken but rather of the mind, a collective objection that swept through their linked minds. Vladimir held up his hand. “There will be much sorrow before our time is finished. Those coming after us will be without hope, without the knowledge, even, of what our world has been and what a lifemate is to us. Theirs will be a much more difficult existence. We must do all that we can to ensure that mortals and immortals alike are as safe as possible.” His eyes moved over their faces, settled on two that looked alike.

Lucian and Gabriel. Twins. Children of his own second in command. Already they were working tirelessly to remove all that was evil from their world. “I knew that you would volunteer. The danger to our homeland and our people is as great as the danger to the outside world. I must ask that you stay here where the fight will be brother against brother and friend against friend. Without you to guard our people, we will fall. You must stay here, in these lands, and guard our soil until such time as you perceive you are needed elsewhere.”

Neither twin attempted to argue with the Prince. His word was law, and it was a measure of his people’s respect and love that they obeyed him without question. Lucian and Gabriel exchanged one long look. If they spoke on their private mental path, they didn’t share their thoughts with any other. They simply nodded their heads in unison, in agreement with their Prince’s decision.

The Prince turned, his black eyes piercing, probing, searching the hearts and minds of his warriors. “In the jungles and forests of far-off lands the great Jaguar have begun to decline. The Jaguar are a powerful people with many gifts, great psychic talents, but they are solitary creatures. The men find and mate with the women then leave them and the young to fend for themselves. The Jaguar men are secretive, refusing to come out of the jungles and mingle with humans. They prefer that the superstitious revere them as deities. The women have naturally turned to those who would love them and care for them, see them as the treasures they are. They have, for some time, been mating with human men and living as humans. Their bloodlines have been weakened; fewer and fewer exist in their true form. Within a hundred years, perhaps two hundred, this race will cease to exist. They lose their women because they know not what is precious and important. We have lost ours through nature itself.” The black eyes moved over a tall, handsome warrior, one whose father had fought beside the Prince for centuries and had died at the hands of a master vampire.

The warrior was tall and straight with wide shoulders and flowing black hair. A true and relentless hunter, one of so many he would be sentencing to an ugly existence this night. This fighter had been proven many times over in battle, was loyal and unswerving in his duties. He would be one of the few sent out alone, while the others would go in groups or pairs to aid one another. Vlad sighed heavily and forced himself to give the orders. He leaned respectfully toward the warrior he was addressing, but spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

“You will go to this land and rid the world of the monsters our males have chosen to become. You must avoid all confrontation with the Jaguar. Their species, as ours must, will either find a way to join the world or become extinct like so many others before us. You will not engage them in battle. Leave them to their own devices. Avoid the werewolf as best you can. They are, like us, struggling to survive in a changing world. I give you my blessing, the love and thanks of our people, and may God go with you into the night, into your new land. You must embrace this land, make it your own, make it your home.

“After I have gone, my son will take my place. He will be young and inexperienced, and he will find it difficult to rule our people in troubled times. I will not tell him of those I have sent out into the world as guardians. He cannot rely on those much older than he. He must have complete faith in his ability to guide our people on his own. Remember who you are and what you are: guardians of our people. You stand, the last line of defense to keep innocent blood from being spilled.”

Vladimir looked directly into the gaze of the young warrior. “Do you take this task of your own free will? You must decide. None will think the less of any who wish to remain. The war here will also be long and difficult.”

The warrior’s eyes were steady on the Prince. Slowly he nodded acceptance of his fate. In that moment his life was changed for all time. He would live in a foreign land without the hope of love or family. Without emotion or color, without light to illuminate the unrelenting darkness. He would never know a lifemate, but would spend his entire existence hunting and destroying the undead.





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