Dark Prince - Feehan Christine - Страница 9
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“Perhaps we shouldn’t see each other for a few days. I’ve never been so tired in my life.” She tried to give him a gracious way out. Raven looked down at her hands. She wanted to give herself an out, too. She had never felt so close to anyone, so comfortable, as if she had known him forever, yet was terrified that he would take her over. “And I don’t think your family was thrilled to see an American with you. We’re too... explosive together,” she finished ruefully.
“Do not try to leave me, Raven.” The car drew up in front of the inn. “I hold what is mine, and make no mistake, you are mine.” It was both a warning and a plea. He had no time for soft words. He wanted to give them to her—God knew she deserved them—but the others were waiting and his responsibilities weighed heavily on him.
She raised her hand to the line of his jaw, rubbing gently. “You’re so used to having your own way.” There was a smile in her voice. “I can go to sleep all by myself, Mikhail. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“You need to sleep untroubled, undisturbed, deeply. What you saw’ tonight will haunt you if I do not help you.” His thumb stroked across her lower lip. “I could remove the memory if you wished.”
Raven could see he wanted to do it, believed that it would be best for her. She could see it was difficult to ask her to make a decision. “No, thank you, Mikhail,” she said demurely. “I think I’ll keep all my memories, good and bad.” She kissed his chin, slid across the seat to the door. “You know, I’m not a porcelain doll. I won’t break because I see something I shouldn’t. I’ve chased serial killers before.” She smiled at him, her eyes sad.
He shackled her wrist in an unbreakable grip. “And it almost destroyed you. Not this time.”
Her lashes swept down, hiding her expression. “That’s not your decision.” If others persuaded him to use his talents to chase the insane, evil killers in the world, she would not leave him alone. How could she?
“You are not nearly as afraid of me as you should be,” he growled.
She flashed him another smile, tugging at her wrist to remind him to release her. “I think you know what’s between us would be worth nothing if you forced me to do your will in everything.”
He held her captive a heartbeat longer, his dark, dangerous eyes moving possessively over her fragile face. She was so strong-willed. She was afraid, but she looked him in the eyes and stood up to him. It made her ill, brought her to the brink of madness to chase evil, but she did it time and time again. He was still a shadow in her mind. He read her determination to help him, her fear of him and his incredible powers, but she would not leave him to face this horrible killer alone. He wanted to keep her with him safe in his lair. Almost reverently, Mikhail trailed his fingers down her cheek. “Go, before I change my mind,” he ordered, abruptly releasing her.
Raven walked away from him slowly, trying to overcome the dizziness that had taken hold of her. She was careful to walk straight, not wanting him to know she felt as if her body was lead, that every movement was difficult. She walked with her head up and kept her mind purposely blank.
Mikhail watched her enter the inn. He saw her hand go up to her head, rub at her temple, the nape of her neck. She was still dizzy from his taking her blood. That had been selfish, beneath him, yet he couldn’t stop himself. Now she was paying for it. Her head ached from the bombardment of emotions. His included. All of his people would have to be more careful to shield their minds.
Mikhail unfolded his large frame from the vehicle, moved to the shadows, his senses flaring out to tell him he was alone. He took the form of mist. In the heavy fog it was unnoticeable, and he could easily seep beneath her unsecured window. He watched her as she sank onto the bed. Her face was pale, her eyes haunted. Shw swept her mane of hair back, touching his mark as if it ached. It took her a few minutes to kick off her shoes, as if the task was too great.
Mikhail waited until she had flung herself face down, fully clothed on the bed. You will sleep.He gave the order forcefully, expected her compliance.
Mikhail.His name echoed in his head, soft, drowsy, with a hint of amusement. Somehow I knew you would just have to have your way.She didn’t fight it, but went under willingly, a smile curving her soft mouth.
Mikhail undressed her, slid her slender body beneath the covers. He safeguarded the door, a powerful spell guaranteed to keep even the strongest of his own people out, let alone pathetic mortal assassins. He secured the windows and provided the same guards at every possible entry point. Very gently he brushed his lips across her forehead, then reached down to touch his brand on her neck before leaving her.
The others fell silent when he entered his home. Celeste smiled tentatively, pressed a protective hand to the child lying in her womb. “Is she all right, Mikhail?”
He nodded abruptly, curiously grateful for her concern. No one would question him, yet his behavior was completely out of character for him. He got right to the point. “How did the assassins find Noelle unprotected?”
The others looked at one another. Mikhail drilled it into them never to forget the smallest details guarding their safety, but over the years it was so easy to forget, to slip up.
“Noelle had her baby only two months ago. She was so tired all the time.” Celeste tried to excuse the slip.
“And Rand? Where was he? Why did he leave his exhausted wife unprotected while she slept?” Mikhail asked softly, dangerously.
Byron, the man who had been in such trouble earlier, stirred uncomfortably. “You know how Rand is. Always after the women. He took the child to Celeste and went out hunting.”
“And forgot to provide Noelle with the proper safeguards.” Mikhail’s disgust was all too evident. “Where is he?”
Celeste’s lifemate, Eric, answered grimly. “He was crazy, Mikhail. It took all of us to subdue him, but he sleeps now. The child is with him deep in the ground. The healing will do them good.”
“We could not afford to lose Noelle.” Mikhail pushed grief away; it was not the time to feel it. “Eric, can you keep Rand under control?”
“I think you should talk to him,” Eric answered honestly. “The guilt is making him crazy. He nearly turned on us.”
“Vlad, where is Eleanor? She is at risk, heavy with child. We must protect her as we will Celeste,” Mikhail said. “We cannot afford the loss of any of our women and certainly not their children.”
“She is so close to term, I was worried about her traveling.” Vlad sighed heavily. “She is safe and well-guarded for the moment, but I think this war is starting again.”
Mikhail tapped a finger on the small table near the chessboard. “Perhaps it is significant that we have three of our women giving birth for the first time in a decade. Our children are few and far between. If the assassins somehow have gained knowledge of our women’s condition, they will be afraid we are multiplying, growing strong again.”
Mikhail shot the most muscular of the men a quick glance. “Jacques, you have no lifemate to encumber you.” There was the faintest trace of affection in his voice, affection he could never feel or show before and maybe wasn’t aware anyone else knew of. Jacques was his brother. “Neither does Byron. You two will get word to all the others. Lie low, feed only in the deepest cover, sleep deep within the ground, and always use the most powerful safeguards. We must watch our women and get them to safety, especially those who are with child. Do not draw attention to yourselves in any way.”
“For how long, Mikhail?” Celeste’s eyes were shadowed, her face tearstained. “How long must we live like this?”
“Until I find and dispense justice to the assassins.” There was a fierce, savage note in his voice. “All of you have become soft, mixing so much with mortals. You are forgetting the gifts that could save your lives,” he reprimanded them harshly. “My woman is mortal, yet she knew of your presence before you knew of hers. She felt your unguarded emotions, knows of the assassins through your thoughts. There is no excuse for that.”
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