Dark Possession

Dark Possession

By

Christine Feehan

Dark Possession

Chapter One

Manolito De La Cruz woke beneath the dark earth with his heart pounding, bloodred tears streaking his face and grief overwhelming him. A woman's despairing cry echoed in his soul, tearing at him, reprimanding him, drawing him back from the edge of a great precipice. And he was starving.

Every cell in his body craved blood. The hunger raked at him with merciless claws until a red haze covered his sight and his pulse hammered with the need for immediate sustenance. Desperate, he scanned the area above his resting place for the presence of enemies and, finding none, burst through the rich layers of soil, into the air, his heart thundering in his ears, his mind screaming.

He landed in a crouch in the midst of dense shrubbery and thick vegetation, and took a slow, careful look around him. For a moment everything was wrong-monkeys shrieking, birds calling out a warning, the cough of a larger predator, even the brush of lizards through vegetation. He wasn't supposed to be here. The rain forest. Home.

He shook his head, trying to clear his fragmented mind. The last thing he remembered clearly was stepping in front of a pregnant Carpathian woman, shielding mother and unborn child from a killer. Shea Dubrinsky, lifemate to Jacques, brother to the prince of the Carpathian people. He had been in the Carpathian Mountains, not in South America, which he now called home.

He replayed the images in his head. Shea had gone into labor at a party. Ridiculous that. How could they keep the women and children safe in the midst of such madness? Manolito had sensed danger, the enemy moving within the crowd, stalking Shea. He'd been distracted, dazzled with color and sound and emotion pouring in from every direction. How could that be? Ancient Carpathian hunters didn't feel emotion and saw in shades of gray, white and black-yet-he distinctly recalled that Shea's hair had been red. Bright, bright red.

Memories whirled away as pain exploded through him, doubling him over. Waves of weakness rocked him. He found himself on his hands and knees, his belly in hard knots and his insides heaving. Fire burned through his system like molten poison. Disease didn't plague the Carpathian race. He couldn't have become ill with a human disease. This was manufactured by an enemy.

Who did this to me? His white teeth snapped together in a show of aggression, his incisors and canines sharp and lethal as he glared fiercely around him. How had he gotten here? Kneeling in the fertile soil, he tried to sort through what he did know.

Another jolt of blinding pain lashed at his temples, blackening the edges of his vision. He covered his eyes to try to block out the shooting stars coming at him like missiles, but closing his eyes worsened the effect. «I am Manuel De La Cruz,» he murmured aloud, trying to force his brain to work… to remember… pushing the words through teeth clenched tightly together in a grimace. «I have one older and three younger brothers. They call me Manolito to tease me because my shoulders are broader and I carry more muscle, so they reduce me to boy. They would not leave me if they knew I had need of them.»

They would never have left me. Never. Not his brothers. They were loyal to one another-they had been through the long centuries together and would always remain so.

He pushed past the pain to try to uncover the truth. Why was he in the rain forest when he should have been in the Carpathian Mountains? Why had he been abandoned by his people? His brothers? He shook his head in denial, although it cost him dearly, as the pain increased, spikes seeming to stab through his skull.

He shivered as the shadows crept closer, ringing him, taking shapes. Leaves rustled and the bushes shifted, as if touched by unseen hands. Lizards darted out from under the rotting vegetation and raced away as if frightened.

Manolito pulled back and once again looked warily around him, this time scanning above and below ground, quartering the region thoroughly. There were shadows only, nothing flesh and blood to indicate an enemy close. He had to get ahold of himself and figure out what was happening before the trap was sprung-and he was certain there was a trap and he was close to being truly caught.

Throughout his time hunting the vampire, Manolito had been wounded and poisoned on many occasions, but still he'd survived because he'd always used his brain. He was cunning and shrewd and very intelligent. No vampire or mage would best him, sick or not. If he was hallucinating, he had to find a way out of the spell to protect himself.

Shadows moved in his mind, dark and evil. He looked around him at the growth of the jungle, and instead of seeing a welcoming home, he saw the same shadows moving-reaching-trying to grasp him with greedy claws. Things moved, banshees wailed, unfamiliar creatures gathered in the bushes and along the ground.

It made no sense, not for one of his kind. The night should have welcomed him-soothed him. Enfolded him in its rich blanket of peace. The night had always belonged to him-to his kind. Information should have flooded him with each breath he took into his body, but instead his mind played tricks, saw things that couldn't be there. He could hear a dark symphony of voices calling to him, the sounds swelling in volume until his head pounded with moans and pitiful cries. Bony fingers brushed at his skin, spider legs crawled over him so that he twisted left and right, flailing his arms, slapping at his chest and back, brushing vigorously in an effort to dislodge the invisible webs that seemed to stick to his skin.

He shuddered again and forced air through his lungs. He had to be hallucinating, caught in the trap of a master vampire. If that was the case, he couldn't call on his brothers for aid until he knew if he was bait to draw them into the web as well.

He gripped his head hard and forced his mind to calm. He would remember. He was an ancient Carpathian sent out by the former Prince Vlad to hunt the vampire. Vlad's son, Mikhail, had, centuries since, taken over guiding their people. Manolito felt one of the pieces snap together as a bit of his memory fell into place. He had been far from his home in South America, summoned by the prince to a reunion in the Carpathian Mountains, a celebration of life as Jacques's lifemate gave birth to a child. Yet he now appeared to be in the rain forest, a part familiar to him. Could he be dreaming? He had never dreamed before, not that he remembered. When a Carpathian male went to ground, he shut down his heart and lungs and slept as if dead. How could he dream?

Once again he risked a look at his surroundings. His stomach lurched as the brilliant colors dazzled him, hurting his head and making him sick. After centuries of seeing in black-and-white with shades of gray, now the surrounding jungle held violent color, hues of vivid greens, a riot of colored flowers spilling down tree trunks along with creeper vines. His head pounded and his eyes burned. Drops of blood leaked like tears, trailing down his face as he squinted to try to control the sensation of pitching and rolling as he viewed the rain forest.

Emotions poured in. He tasted fear, something he hadn't known since he'd been a boy. What was going on? Manolito fought to get on top of the strange tumbling of jumbled thoughts in his mind. He pushed hard to clear away the debris and focus on what he knew of his past. He had stepped in front of an elderly human woman possessed by a mage just as she thrust a poisoned weapon at Jacques and Shea's unborn child. He felt the shock of the entry into his flesh, the twist and rip of the serrated blade cutting through his organs and ripping open his belly. Fire burned through his insides, spreading rapidly as the poison worked its way through his system.

Blood ran in rivers and light faded quickly. He heard voices calling, chanting, felt his brothers reaching for him to try to hold him to earth. He remembered that very clearly, the sound of his brothers' voices imploring him-no-commanding him to stay with them. He'd found himself in a shadowy realm, banshees wailing, shadows flickering and reaching. Skeletons. Dark spiked teeth. Talons. Spiders and cockroaches. Snakes hissing. The skeletons drawing closer and closer until…

He closed his mind to his surroundings, to all shared pathways, so there was no chance anyone could be feeding his own fears. It had to be hallucination brought on by the poison coating the blade of the knife. No matter that he had stopped anything from entering his brain-something malicious was already present.

Fire ringed him, crackling flames reaching greedily toward the sky and stretching like obscene tongues toward him. Out of the conflagration, women emerged, women he'd used for feeding throughout the centuries, long dead to the world now. They began to crowd around him, arms reaching, mouths open wide

as they bent toward him, showing their wares through tight, clinging dresses. They smiled and beckoned, eyes wide, blood running down the sides of their necks-tempting-tempting. Hunger burned. Raged. Grew into a monster.

As he watched, they called to him seductively, moaning and writhing as if in sexual ecstasy, their hands touching themselves suggestively.

«Take me, Manolito,» one cried.

«I'm yours,» another called and reached out to him.

Hunger forced him to his feet. He could already taste the rich, hot blood, was desperate to regain his equilibrium. He needed, and they would provide. He smiled at them, his slow, seductive smile that always foreshadowed the taking of prey. As he took a step forward, he stumbled, the knots in his stomach hardening into painful lumps. He caught himself with one hand on the ground before he fell. The ground shifted, and he could see the women's faces in the dirt and rotting leaves. The soil, black and lush, shifted until he was surrounded by the faces, the eyes staring accusingly.

«You killed me. Killed me.» The accusation was soft, but powerful, the mouths yawning wide as if in horror.

«You took my love, all that I had to offer, and you left me,» another cried.

«You owe me your soul,» a third demanded.

He drew back with a soft hiss of denial. «I never touched you, other than to feed.» But he'd made them think he had. He and his brothers allowed the women to think they'd been seduced, but they had never betrayed their lifemates. Never. That had been one of their most sacred rules. He had never touched an innocent, not to feed. The women he had used for feeding had all been easy to read, their greed for his name and power apparent. He had cultivated them carefully, encouraged their fantasies, but he had never physically touched them other than to feed.

He shook his head as the wailing grew louder, the ghostly specters more insistent, eyes narrowing with purpose. He straightened his shoulders and faced the women squarely. «I live by blood and I took what you offered. I did not kill. I did not pretend to love you. I have nothing to be ashamed of. Go away and take your accusations with you. I did not betray my honor, my family, my people or my lifemate.»

He had many sins to answer for, many dark deeds staining his soul, but not this. Not what these sensual women with their greedy mouths, were accusing him of. He snarled at them, raised his head with pride and met their cold eyes straight on. His honor was intact. Many things could be said of him. They could judge him in a thousand other ways and find fault, but he had never touched an innocent. He had never allowed a woman to think he might fall in love with her. He had waited faithfully for his lifemate, even knowing the odds that he would ever find her were very small. There had been no other women, despite what the world thought. And there never would be. No matter what his other faults, he would not betray his woman. Not by word, not by deed, not even by thought.

Not even when he doubted she would ever be born.

«Get away from me. You came to me wanting power and money. There was no love on your side, no real interest other than to acquire the things you wanted. I left you with memories, false though they were, in exchange for life. You were not harmed, in fact you were under my protection. I owe you nothing, least of all my soul. Nor will I allow myself to be judged by creatures such as you.»

The women screamed, the shadows lengthening, casting dark bands across their bodies, like ribbons of chains. Their arms stretched toward him, talons growing on their fingernails, smoke swirling around their writhing forms.

Manolito shook his head, adamant in his denial of wrongdoing. He was Carpathian and he needed blood to survive-it was that simple. He had followed the dictates of his prince and had protected other species. While it was true that he had killed, and that he often felt superior with his skills and intelligence, he had kept that place that was for his lifemate, the one spark of humanity, alive, just in case.

He would not be judged by these women with their sly smiles and ripe bodies, offered only to capture the wealthy male, not for love, but for greed-yet grief was pushing at his emotions. Cruel, overwhelming grief, coming at him and stealing into his soul, so that he felt weary and lost and wanting the sweet oblivion of the earth.

Around him, the wailing grew louder, but the shadows began to leach form and color from the faces. Several women pushed at their clothing and murmured invitations to him. Manolito scowled at them. «I have no need nor want of your charms.»

Feel. Feel. Touch me and you will feel again. My skin is soft. lean bring you all the way to heaven. You have only to give me your body one time and I will give you the blood you crave.

Shadows moved all around him and the women came out of the vines and leaves, burst through the earth itself and reached for him, smiling seductively. He . . .felt revulsion and bared his teeth, shaking his head. «I would never betray her.» He said it aloud. «I would rather die of slow starvation.» He said it in a low snarl, a growl of warning rumbling in his throat. Meaning it.

«That death will take centuries.» The voices weren't so seductive now, more desperate and whining, more frantic than accusing.

«So be it. I will not betray her.»

«You have already betrayed her,» one cried. «You stole a piece of her soul. You stole it and you cannot give it back.»

He searched his broken memory. For a moment he smelled a wisp of fragrance, a scent of something clean and fresh in the midst of the decaying rot surrounding him. The taste of her was in his mouth. His heart beat strong and steady. Everything in him settled. She was real.

He took a breath, let it out, breathing away the shadows around him, yet more grief poured in. «If I have committed such a crime against her, then I will do whatever she wishes.» Had he committed so great a sin that she had left him? Was that why the unfamiliar grief turned his heart to such a heavy stone?

Around him, the faces slowly dissolved as the forms blurred even more, until they were only wailing shadows and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach eased, even as his hunger grew beyond craving.

He had a lifemate. He clung to that truth. Beautiful. Perfect. A woman born to be his mate. Born for him. His. Predatory instincts rose sharp and fast. A growl rumbled in his chest, and the ever-present hunger raked deeper into his gut, clawing and biting with relentless demand. He had been without color for hundreds of years, a long, emotionless time that stretched on and on until the demon had risen and he no longer had the strength or desire to fight against it. He had been so close. Kills had run together and feeding had become difficult. Each time he had sunk his teeth into living flesh, felt and heard the ebb and flow of life in veins, he had wondered if that would be the moment his soul would be lost.

Manolito shuddered as voices in his head once again grew louder, drowning out the sounds of the jungle. Little flashes of pain grew behind his eyes, burning and burning until he felt his eyes boiling. Was it the color? She, his lifemate, had restored color to him. Where was she? Had she deserted him? The questions crowded in fast and loud, mixing with the voices until he wanted to hit his head against the nearest tree trunk. The inside of his brain seemed on fire, as did every organ in his body.

Vampire blood? It burned like acid. He knew because he'd hunted and killed hundreds, or perhaps thousands. Some had been friends in his younger years, and he could hear them now, screaming in his head. Chained. Burned. Eaten by endless despair. His heart nearly burst in his chest, and he sank down into the fertile soil where he'd lain, trying to sort out what was real and what was hallucination. When he closed his eyes, he was in a pit, shadows surrounded him and red eyes stared hungrily.

Perhaps it was all an illusion. Everything. Where he was. The vivid colors. The shadows. Perhaps his wish for a lifemate was so strong he had created one in his mind. Or worse-a vampire had created one for him.

Manolito. You have risen early. You were to remain in the ground a few more weeks. Gregori said to make certain you did not rise too soon.

Manolito's eyes flew open and he looked warily around him. The voice held the same timbre as that of his youngest brother, Riordan, but it was distorted and slow, each word drawn out so that the voice, instead of resonating with familiarity, seemed demonic. Manolito shook his head and tried to rise. His body, usually graceful and powerful, felt awkward and foreign as he fell back to his knees, too weak to stand. His gut knotted and rolled. The burning spread through his system.

Riordan. I do not know what is happening to me. He used the path shared only by him and his youngest brother. He was careful to keep his energy from spilling from that path. If this was an elaborate trap, he would not draw Riordan into it. He loved his brother too much for that.

The thought made his heart go still.

Love.

He felt love for his brothers. Overwhelming. Real. So intense it took his breath away, as if the emotion had been gathering throughout the long centuries, building in strength behind a solid barrier where he couldn't access it. There was only one person in the world who could restore emotions to him. The one he'd waited centuries for.

His lifemate.

He pressed his hand tightly to his chest. There could be no doubt she was real. The ability to see color, to feel emotion: all the senses he'd lost in the first two hundred years of his life had been restored. Because of her.

So why couldn't he remember the most important woman of his life? Why couldn't he picture her? And why were they apart? Where was she?

You must go back to ground, Manolito. You cannot rise. You have journeyed long from the tree of souls. Your journey is not yet complete. You must give yourself more time.

Manolito withdrew immediately from his brother's touch. It was the right path. The voice would be the same if it wasn't playing in slow motion. But the words-the explanation was all wrong. It had to be. You couldn't go to the tree of souls unless you were dead. He wasn't dead. His heart was hammering loud-too loud. The pain in his body was real. He had been poisoned. He knew it was still burning through his system. And how

could that be if he'd been healed properly? Gregori was the greatest healer the Carpathian people had ever known. He would not have allowed poison to remain in Manolito's body, no matter what the risk to himself.

Manolito pulled his shirt from his body and stared down at the scars on his chest. Carpathians rarely scarred. The wound was over his heart, a jagged, ugly scar that spoke volumes. A killing blow.

Could it be true? Had he died and been drawn back into the world of the living? He'd never heard of such a feat. Rumors abounded of course, but he hadn't known it was truly possible. And what of his lifemate? She would have journeyed with him. Panic edged his confusion. Grief pressed him hard.

Manolito.

Riordan's voice was demanding in his head, but was still distorted and slow. Manolito jerked his head up, his body shaking. The shadows moved again, sliding through the trees and shrubs. Every muscle in his body tensed and knotted. What now? This time he felt the danger as forms began to take shape in a ring around him. Dozens of them, hundreds, thousands even, so there was no possibility of escape. Red eyes blazed at him with hatred and malicious intent. They swayed as if their bodies were far too transparent and thin to resist the slight breeze rustling the leaves in the canopy above them. Vampires every one.

He recognized them. Some were relatively young by Carpathian standards, and some very old. Some were childhood friends and others teachers or mentors. He had killed every one of them without pity or remorse. He had done it fast, brutally and any way he could.

One pointed an accusing finger. Another hissed and spit with rage. Their eyes, sunken deep in the sockets, weren't eyes at all, but more like glowing pools of hatred wrapped in red blood.

«You are like us. You belong with us. Join our ranks,» one called.

«Think you're better. Look at us. You killed again and again. Like a machine, with no thought for what you left behind.»

«So sure of yourself. All the while you were killing your own brethren.»

For a moment Manolito's heart pounded so hard in his chest he was afraid it might burst through his skin. Sorrow weighed him down. Guilt ate at him. He had killed. He hadn't felt when he did so, hunting each vampire one by one and fighting with superior intellect and ability. Hunting and killing were necessary. What his thoughts on the subject were didn't matter in the least. It had to be done.

He pulled himself up to his full height, forced his body to stand straight when his gut clenched and knotted. His body felt different, more leaden, clumsy even. As he shifted onto the balls of his feet, he felt the tremors start.

«You chose your fate, dead one. I was merely the instrument of justice.»

The heads were thrown back on the long, thin stick necks, and howls rent the air. Above them, birds lifted from the canopy, taking flight at the horrible cacophony of shrieks rising in volume. The sound jarred his body, making his insides turn to gel. A vampire trick, he was certain. He knew in his heart his life was over –there were too many to kill-but he would take as many with him as possible to rid the world of such dangerous and immoral creatures.

The mage must have found a way to resurrect the dead. He whispered the information in his head, needing Riordan to tell their oldest brother. Zacarias would send a warning to the prince that armies of the dead

would be once again rising against them.

You are certain of this?

I have killed these in centuries long past, yet they surround me with their accusing eyes, beckoning to me as if I am one of them.

From a great distance away, Riordan gasped, and for the first time sounded like Manolito's beloved sibling. You cannot choose to give your soul to them. We are so close, Manolito, so close. I have found my lifemate and Rafael has found his. It is only a matter of time for you. You must hold out. I am coming to you.

Manolito snarled, throwing his head back to roar with rage. Imposter. You are not my brother.

Manolito! What are you saying? Of course I am your brother. You are ill. I am coming to you with all haste. If the vampires are playing tricks on you…

As you are? You have made a terrible mistake, evil one. I have a lifemate. I see your filthy abominations in color. They surround me with their vile bloodstained teeth and their blackened hearts, wizened and shriveled.

You have no lifemate, Riordan said in denial. You have only dreamed of her.

You cannot trap me with such deceit. Go to your puppet master and tell him I am not so easily caught. He broke off the connection immediately and slammed closed all pathways, private and common, to his mind.

Spinning around, he took in his enemy, grown into so many faces from his past he knew he was facing death. «Come then, dance with me as you have so many times,» he ordered and beckoned with his fingers.

The first line of vampires closest to him howled, spittle running down their faces and holes for eyes glowing with hatred. «Join us, brother. You are one of us.»

They swayed, feet carrying out the strange hypnotic pattern of the undead. He heard them calling to him, but the sound was more in his head than out of it. Whispers. Buzzing. Drawing a veil over his mind. He shook his head to clear it, but the sounds persisted.

The vampires drew closer, and now he could feel the flutter of tattered clothing, torn and gray with age, brushing against his skin. Once again, the sensation of bugs crawling over his skin alarmed him. He spun around, trying to keep the enemy in his sight, and all the while the voices grew louder, more distinctive.

«Join us. Feel. You are so hungry. Starving. We can feel your heart stuttering. You need fresh blood. Adrenaline-laced blood is the best. You can feel!»

«Join us,» they cried, the entreaty loud and swelling in volume until it was a tidal wave rolling over him.

«Fresh blood. You need to survive. Just a taste. One taste. And the fear. Let them see you. Let them feel fear and the high is like nothing you've ever felt.»

The temptation made hunger grow until he couldn't think beyond the red haze in his mind.

«Look at yourself, brother, look at your face.»

He found himself on the ground, on his hands and knees, as if they'd shoved him, but he never felt the push.

He stared into the shimmering pond of water stretching before him. The skin on his face was pulled tightly over his bones. His mouth was wide in protest and not only his incisors but also his canines were long and sharp in anticipation.

He heard a heartbeat. Strong. Steady. Beckoning. Calling. His mouth watered. He was desperate-so hungry there was nothing to do but hunt. He had to find prey. Had to bite into a soft, warm neck so that the hot blood would burst into his mouth, fill every cell, wash through his organs and tissues and feed the tremendous strength and power of his kind. He could think of nothing else but the terrible swell of hunger, rising like a tide to consume him.

The heartbeat grew louder, and he slowly turned his head as a woman was pushed toward him. She looked frightened-and innocent. Her eyes were dark chocolate pools of terror. He could smell the adrenaline rushing through her bloodstream.

«Join us. Join us,» they whispered, the sound swelling to a hypnotic chant.

He needed dark, rich blood to survive. He deserved to live. What was she after all? Weak. Frightened. Could she save the human race from the monsters preying on them? Humans didn't believe they existed. And if they knew of Manolito, they would…

«Kill you,» hissed one.

«Torture you,» hissed another. «Look what they've done to you. You're starving. Who has helped you? Your brothers? Humans? We have brought you hot blood to feed you-to keep you alive.»

«Take her, brother, join us.»

They shoved the woman forward. She cried out, stumbled and fell against Manolito. She felt warm and alive against his cold body. Her heart beat frantically, calling to him as nothing else could. The pulse in her neck jumped rapidly and he smelled her fear. He could hear her blood rushing through her veins, hot and sweet and alive, giving him life.

He couldn't speak to reassure her; his mouth was too filled with his lengthened teeth and the need to crush his lips against the warmth of her neck. He dragged her closer still, until her much smaller body was nearly swallowed by his. Her heart took up the rhythm of his. The air burst from her lungs in terrified gasps.

Around him, he was aware of the vampires drawing closer, the shuffling of their feet, their cavernous mouths gaping wide in anticipation, strings of saliva dripping down while their pitiless eyes stared with wild glee. The night fell silent, only the sound of the girl struggling for air and the thundering of her heart filling the air. His head bent closer, lured by the scent of blood.

He was starving. Without blood he would be unable to defend himself. He needed this. He deserved it. He had spent centuries defending humans-humans who despised what he was, humans who feared his kind…

Manolito closed his eyes and blocked out the sound of that sweet, tempting heartbeat. The whispers were in his head. In his head. He swung around, shoving the girl behind him. «I will not! She is an innocent and will not be used in this manner.» Because he was too far gone and might not stop. He would have to fight them all, but he might be able to save her yet.

From behind him, the woman wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her lush, woman's body tightly against his, her hands sliding down his chest, his belly, lower still until she was stroking him, adding lust to hunger. «Not so innocent, Manolito. I'm yours, body and soul. I'm yours. You have only to taste me. I can

make it all go away.»

Manolito snarled, whirling around, shoving the woman from his body. «Go! Go with your friends and stay away from me.»

She laughed and writhed, touching herself. «You need me.»

«I need my lifemate. She will come to me and she will take care of my needs.»

Her face changed, the laughter fading, and she yanked at her hair in frustration. «You cannot escape this place. You are one of us. You betrayed her and you deserve to stay here.»

He didn't know-didn't remember. But all the temptation in the world would not make him change his mind. If he was to stay alive without food for centuries, enduring the torment of it, so be it, but he would not betray his lifemate. «You would have done better to tempt me to betray another,» he said. «Only she can judge me unworthy. So it is written in our laws. Only my lifemate can condemn me.»

He must have done something terrible. It was the second accusation of its kind, and the fact that she wasn't fighting at his side spoke volumes. He couldn't call her to him, because he remembered very little-certainly not a sin he had committed against her. He remembered her voice, soft and melodious, like an angel singing from the heavens-only she was saying she would have no part of a Carpathian male.

His heart jumped. Had she refused his claim? Had he bound her to him without her consent? It was accepted in his society, a protection for the male when a female was reluctant. That was not a betrayal. What could he have done? He would never have touched another woman. He would have protected her as he had Jacques's lifemate, with his life and beyond if possible.

He was in a place of judgment, and so far he didn't seem to be faring very well, and maybe that was because he wasn't remembering. He lifted his head and showed his teeth to hundreds, maybe thousands, of Carpathian males who had chosen to give up their souls, decimated their own species, ruining a society and a way of life for the rush of feeling rather than holding on to honor-rather than holding on to the memory of hope for a lifemate.

«I refuse your judgment. I will never belong with you. I may have stained my soul, perhaps beyond redemption, but I would never willingly give it up or trade my honor as you did. I may be all the things you have said, but I will face my lifemate, not you, and let her decide whether my sins can be forgiven.»

The vampires hissed, bony fingers pointing accusingly, but they didn't attack him. It made no sense-with their superior numbers they could easily destroy him-yet their forms grew less solid and seemed to waver, so it was difficult to distinguish between the undead and the shadows within the darkness of the rain forest.

The back of his neck tingled and he spun around. The vampires receded deeper into the bushes, the big leafy plants seemingly swallowing them. His stomach burned and his body cried out for food, but he was more confused than ever. The vampires had him trapped. Danger surrounded him. He could feel it in the very stillness. All rustle of life ceased around him. There was no flutter of wings, no scurry of movement. He lifted his head and scented the air. It was still, absolutely still, and yet there was…

Instinct, more than actual sound, alerted him and Manolito spun around, still on his knees, hands going up just as the large jaguar sprang at him.

Chapter Two

M

ted

5»

Clinical depression was an insidious monster that crept up and slid over and into a person before they had the chance to be aware and on guard. MaryAnn Delaney wiped at the seemingly endless tears running down her face as she went through the list of symptoms. Feelings of sadness. Check. Maybe even double check.

Sadness wasn't the word she would use to describe the terrible yawning emptiness she couldn't overcome, but it was in the book and she'd add it to the growing list of indicators. She was so freakin' sad she couldn't stop crying. And she could put a check on the no appetite because the mere thought of food made her sick. She hadn't been able to sleep since…

She closed her eyes and groaned. Manolito De La Cruz was a stranger. She'd barely spoken to the man, yet when she'd witnessed his death-his murder-she had gone quietly to pieces. She seemed to be grieving more than his family. She knew they were distraught, but they rarely showed emotion at all, and they certainly didn't speak of him. They'd brought his body back in the same private jet they used to return to their ranch in Brazil, but they hadn't taken him to their ranch.

Instead the plane had landed-with her on it-on a private tropical island somewhere in the middle of the Amazon River. And rather than give Manolito a proper burial, his brothers had taken his body to some undisclosed location in the rain forest. She couldn't even sneak out and visit his grave. How absurd and desperate was that? Visiting the grave of a stranger in the dead of night because she couldn't get over his death.

Was paranoia also creeping in, or was she right to worry that she had been brought to an island no one had mentioned when she was with her best friend, Destiny, in the Carpathian Mountains? Juliette and Riordan had asked her to come to counsel Juliette's younger sister, a victim of sexual violence, and they often mentioned the ranch, but never a vacation home on a private island. The house was surrounded by thick forest. She doubted she could find her way back to the airstrip without a map and a machete-wielding guide.

She was a counselor, for heaven's sake, yet she couldn't find the discipline needed to overcome the growing desperation and suspicion, or the terrible, inexplicable anguish over Manolito's death. She needed help. As a counselor she knew that, but the sorrow was growing and putting dangerous and frightening thoughts in her mind. She didn't want to get out of bed. She didn't want to explore the opulent house or the lush rain forest. She didn't even want to get back on a plane and go home to her beloved city of Seattle. She wanted to find Manolito De La Cruz's grave and crawl into it with him.

What in the world was wrong with her? She was normally a person who believed in the glass half-full philosophy. No matter what the circumstances, she could always look around her and find something humorous or beautiful to enjoy, but since the night she had attended the Carpathian celebration with Destiny, she had been so depressed she could barely function.

She'd managed to hide it at first. Everyone was so busy getting ready to leave the Carpathian Mountains and fly home, they hadn't noticed she was quiet. Or if they had, they put it down to shyness. MaryAnn had agreed to come to Brazil in the hopes of helping Juliette's younger sister before she had realized the emotional trouble she was in. She should have said something, but she'd kept thinking the grief would subside. She'd traveled with the De La Cruz family in their private jet. And the coffin. They had slept on the plane, as was their way during the day, but she'd sat alone by the coffin and cried. She'd cried so much her throat was raw

and her eyes burned. It made no sense, but she couldn't seem to stop.

The knock on her door startled her, made her heart jump and begin to pound. She had a job to do and the De La Cruz family would expect her to do it. The thought of trying to help someone else, when she couldn't bear the thought of getting out of bed, was terrifying.

«MaryAnn.» Juliette's voice was puzzled and a little alarmed. «Open the door. Riordan's with me and we need to speak with you.»

She didn't want to talk to anyone. Juliette probably had located her younger sister, who by all accounts had still been hiding out in the rain forest. Carpathians, vampires and jaguar people-sometimes she felt a little like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. «I'm still sleepy.» She lied. She couldn't sleep if her life depended on it. All she could do was weep. And be scared. No matter how hard she tried to banish her fear and suspicion, the emotions wouldn't go away.

Juliette rattled the door handle. «I'm sorry to disturb your rest, MaryAnn, but this is important. We need to talk to you.»

MaryAnn let out her breath. It was the second time Juliette had used the word «need.» Something was definitely up. She had to pull herself together. Wash her face. Brush her teeth. Try to manage her hair. She sat up, once more swiping at the tears running down her face. Riordan and Juliette were both Carpathian and could read her mind should they choose, but she knew it was considered bad manners when she was under the protection of the Carpathian people, and she was grateful for that consideration.

«Just a minute, Juliette, I was sleeping.»

They would know it was a lie. They might not read her mind, but they couldn't fail to feel the waves of distress pouring off of her and filling the house.

She stumbled to the mirror and stared at her face in horror. There was no way to quickly hide the evidence of tears. And there was certainly no rescuing her hair. It was long, long enough if pulled straight to reach her waist, but she hadn't thought to do it up in braids and the humidity had expanded her hair beyond all help. She looked ridiculous, her hair unmanageable and her eyes bright red.

«MaryAnn.» Juliette rattled the door handle. «I'm sorry, but we're coming in. It's really an emergency.»

MaryAnn took a deep breath and sank back onto the edge of the bed, averting her face as they came through the door. It didn't help that Juliette was beautiful, with her cat's eyes and her perfect hair, or that Riordan, like his brothers, was tall and broad-shouldered and sinfully handsome. She was so embarrassed, not only by the fact that her hair had grown into a mass the size of a beach ball, but that she couldn't control the terrible grief that was threatening her very life. She was a strong woman, and nothing made sense since she had witnessed Manolito's murder.

Juliette glided across the room toward the bed, her body compact and graceful, her gaze focused and alert, reminding MaryAnn of her jaguar ancestry. «MaryAnn, you're not well.»

MaryAnn attempted a smile. «It's just that I've been away from home a long time. I'm more of a city girl and this is all new to me.»

«When we were in the Carpathian Mountains, did you meet my brother Manolito?» Riordan watched MaryAnn with cool, assessing eyes.

MaryAnn felt the push of his questions in her mind. He had given her a mental shove. Her suspicions were well grounded. Something wasn't right. She felt the blood drain from her face. She had trusted these people, and now she was trapped and vulnerable. They had powers few humans could comprehend. Her mouth went dry and she pressed her lips together, one hand fluttering toward her breast where a spot throbbed and burned, as she remained stubbornly silent.

Juliette cast her lifemate a quelling look. «It's important, MaryAnn. Manolito is in trouble and we need information fast. Riordan loves his brother and he was using a shortcut that is expedient for our species, but not very respectful. I'm sorry for that.»

MaryAnn blinked up at her, tears swimming again in spite of her resolve. «He's dead. I saw him die. And I felt it, the poison spreading through him, the last breath he took. I know he's dead. I heard people talking that even Gregori couldn't bring him back from the dead. And you brought his body back with us on the plane.» Just saying it aloud was difficult. She couldn't add, in a coffin. Not with her heart feeling like a heavy stone in her chest.

«We're Carpathian, MaryAnn, and not so easily killed.»

«I saw him die. I felt him die.» She'd screamed. Deep inside, where no one could hear, she had screamed her protest, trying to hold him to earth. She didn't know why a stranger mattered so much, only that he had been so noble, so completely heroic to insert his body between danger and a pregnant woman. More, she had heard a rumor he had done the same with the prince of the Carpathians. Selfless in his protection, he had sacrificed himself for Mikhail Dubrinsky as well. And none of them seemed to care. They had rushed to the pregnant woman, leaving the fallen warrior down.

Juliette gave her lifemate another long, telling look. «You felt Manolito die?»

«Yes.» Her hand moved up to her throat, and for a moment it was hard to breathe. «His last breath.» It had been in her throat, in her lungs. «And then his heart stopped beating.» Her own heart had stuttered in answer as though it couldn't beat without the rhythm of his. She moistened her lips with her tongue. «He died and everyone was more alarmed over the pregnant woman. She seemed so important, yet he died. I don't understand any of you. Or this place.» She pushed back the wild mass of hair and rocked gently. «I need to go home. I know I said I'd work with your sister, but the heat is making me sick.»

«I don't think it's the heat, MaryAnn,» Juliette objected. «I think you're having a reaction to what happened to Manolito. You're depressed and grieving, yet you hardly knew him.»

«That doesn't make sense.»

Juliette sighed. «I know it doesn't seem to, but were you ever alone with him?»

MaryAnn shook her head. «I saw him a few times in the crowd.» He'd been so good-looking, it had been impossible not to notice him. She considered herself to be a very sensible woman, but the man had stolen her breath away. She had even delivered the verbal smack-down to herself when she realized she was staring at him like a starstruck teenager. She knew Carpathians only had one partner. He might have used her for food, but beyond that, there was no hope for anything else.

In any case, she couldn't live with a man like Manolito De La Cruz. He was overbearing and arrogant, an ancient Carpathian male influenced in the worst possible Neanderthal ways by centuries of living in South America. She, on the other hand, was a very independent woman raised in an upper-middle-class family in the United States. And she'd seen way too many battered women to ever consider being with a man who had a domineering attitude toward women. But even knowing all that, even knowing Manolito De La Cruz was the last man in the world she could ever have a relationship with, she'd still looked.

«You were never alone with him? Not even for a short period of time?» Juliette questioned, this time looking her in the eye.

MaryAnn could see tiny red flames in the depths of those turquoise eyes. Cat's eyes. A huntress inside the body of a beautiful woman. Behind Juliette stood her lifemate, and nothing at all could conceal the predator in him.

MaryAnn felt a hard «push,» not from Juliette, but from Riordan, once again pressing to get past her natural barriers to find her memories. «Stop it!» she said, her voice sharp with sudden fury. «I want to go home.» She didn't trust any of them.

She looked around at the opulent wealth and knew she was in a silken trap. She could barely function with the terror building. «I can't breathe.» She pushed past Juliette and staggered toward the bathroom. She could see the killer in both of them, monsters lurking beneath the smooth, civilized facade. They had sworn to protect her, but they had brought her to this place of heat and oppression, away from all aid, and now they were stalking her. She needed help and everyone was too far away.

Juliette held up her hand, a frown settling over her face. We're scaring her, Riordan. Stop pushing at her. Listen to her heart. She is very frightened, beyond what should be normal. Is it possible whatever is affecting Manolito is affecting her?

Riordan was silent a moment. MaryAnn had always struck him as a strong, courageous woman. Although he didn't know her very well, she seemed to be acting out of character. If she is his lifemate, then it might be so. But how could she be his lifemate'? Why wouldn't he make his claim on her and put her under the protection of our family? It makes no sense, Juliette. He should not have awakened. Gregori locked him to earth, and when we brought him home, we took him to the richest soil in the rain forest and Zacarias ensured he would stay in the ground. I know of no others more powerful. How is it possible Manolito awakened before his time?

Could the bond between lifemates override a binding command from the healer or from the head of our family?

Riordan rubbed his chin. The truth was he just didn't know.

Well she's scared to death and we have to do something. Juliette took a deep, calming breath. «MaryAnn, I can see you're very distraught. I'm going to ask Riordan to step out of the room and we can talk about what's bothering you.»

MaryAnn ignored her and ran the last few steps to the huge bathroom, slamming the door closed and locking it. She raced to the sink and turned on the water, hoping it would deter Juliette from following her. Splashing cold water on her face helped to clear her mind, although she was shaking, frightened at the thought of what she had to do. It wouldn't be easy to escape from the Carpathians. She had little defense against them, but Gregori, second in command and guardian of the prince, had been the one to put her under his protection, and he had given her a few safeguards. She just had to use them and keep from panicking until she could find her way back to the airstrip.

She had always had a sixth sense about danger, yet she hadn't seen this coming. Now the fear was growing inside of her, blossoming into full-blown terror. She couldn't trust these people. They weren't at all what they seemed. Everything was wrong. The huge estate, with its layers of beauty, was only designed to lure the unwary into the hands of the monsters. She should have seen through them all. Gregori should have seen through them all. Was it a huge conspiracy? Were they all involved?

No, she would never believe it of her best friend, Destiny, or Destiny's lifemate, Nicolae. They needed to be

warned. Maybe they were already in trouble, or maybe it was just the De La Cruz family who had aligned themselves with the vampires. Spies in the Carpathian camp. All along there had been something different about them. She shouldn't have trusted them.

She stared at herself in the mirror, the red, swollen eyes, the signs of grief ravaging her face. The spot over her breast that never quite healed throbbed and burned. She had been certain it was a bite of some kind that she was allergic to. She'd had it ever since she'd been in the Carpathian Mountains, but now she feared it was far more. Perhaps Juliette or Riordan or Rafael De La Cruz had marked her in some way.

She had wanted to go home, desperate to be away from the violence of the Carpathian world, but Juliette had come to her with a story about her younger sister, one MaryAnn had been unable to brush aside, even though her grief and despair had been overwhelming. Was Jasmine even real? MaryAnn doubted it. They were supposed to be at a huge cattle ranch in Brazil, one where during the day many people surrounded them, but Colby and Rafael, Juliette's brother-in-law and his lifemate, along with Colby's brother and sister, had gotten off the plane at a private airport, and MaryAnn had continued on with Riordan and Juliette to an island.

She was trapped. MaryAnn drew in her breath and let it out slowly. She would not die in this place. She was a fighter, and she would somehow get word to Destiny and Nicolae that this branch of Carpathians was traitors. Fear skittered down her spine as she realized what she had to do. Escape into the rain forest, find her way back to the airstrip and somehow get the pilot to take her to an airport where she could catch a flight home. Hastily she looked around the huge room, trying to figure out what she could take with her.

Nothing. There was nothing. She would have to improvise. She went to the window and peered out. The grounds were fairly wild, the rain forest creeping toward the house like an insidious invader, vines and shrubs stretching toward the courtyard. It would be a short run. She caught the edge of the window and attempted to lift.

MaryAnn.

She shrieked, nearly jumping out of her skin, pressing her hand to her pounding heart as she whirled around. Vapor streamed under the door and through the small keyhole. Juliette and Riordan shimmered into human form, Riordan by the window, Juliette by the door.

«Where do you think you're going?» Riordan demanded, his black eyes snapping with fury. «You would be killed within five minutes of entering the forest. We are responsible for your safety.»

His voice seemed slow to her ears, a growling rumble that reminded her of demons she'd seen in movies, as if the sound was being played far too slow. Fear beat at her, rage filled her and confusion reigned. The counselor in her stepped back to try to make sense of the jumble of emotions pouring in.

«MaryAnn,» Juliette spoke gently. «I know you're puzzled by the things that you're feeling, but we think we have an explanation. We think that Manolito bound you to him in the way of our people. Riordan has reached out to him on their shared path and yet Manolito resists him, fearing him to be vampire, just as you are afraid of us. He claims he has a lifemate, and here you are, in despair, grieving for a man you say you've never met. Does that make sense to you? Something is happening here, and for both of your sakes we need to figure out what it is.»

Riordan rubbed his temples as if they ached. There was worry in his eyes. «I fear for my brother's safety as well as his life. He seems confused, and one cannot be confused in the rain forest. We have powerful enemies. He is in terrible danger. He trusts no one but his lifemate. If you are that woman, you are the only one who can save him.»

He stared at her with the unblinking eyes of a wild animal, shrewd and cunning and terrifying. MaryAnn

shuddered and backed up until she was against the windowsill. A part of her thought they were crazy, deliberately trying to baffle her, but the counselor in her was always seeking information and adding it all up. She knew enough about lifemates from Destiny. She'd been around the Carpathian people for a while, and although she didn't understand the bond, she knew it was strong and unbreakable.

Juliette held out her hand. «Come back into the other room and let's try to sort this out. You don't remember at all being alone with Manolito?»

She would remember, wouldn't she? She'd dreamt of him coming to her. A daydream once-only a dream. He'd pulled her into his strong arms and his mouth had slid over her skin down to the swell of her breast. The spot throbbed and burned. Without thinking, she put her palm over the pulsing strawberry that wouldn't quite heal and held the warmth to her.

She shook her head. «It wasn't real. He was across the room at the Inn in the Carpathian Mountains, but I didn't ever really talk to him.» He had looked at her. She'd expected his eyes to be flat and cold and empty like so many of the hunters', but he looked… dangerous, as if he might be hunting her. Instead of being frightened as she was now, she had been secretly thrilled, because, after all, it was a fantasy.

MaryAnn followed Juliette out of the room, aware of Riordan prowling behind her like a great jungle cat. He moved in silence, as his brother had moved. She needed air; the room seemed so hot and oppressive, much like the rain forest. That didn't make sense either. The house was well insulated and air-conditioned to comfortable coolness.

«I don't see how I could be his lifemate. I didn't even meet him. Wouldn't I know? Wouldn't he know?»

«He would know,» Riordan said. «He would be drawn to his lifemate, and if you were the one, the moment you spoke, he would see in colors and his emotions would have been restored. He would not have been able to get very far from you.» He frowned. «But he would have told us. You would have to be placed immediately under the protection of our family.»

«She was already under the protection of Gregori as well as Nicolae and Destiny,» Juliette reminded him. «He might not have thought it necessary.»

He would have thought it imperative… unless… Riordan broke off his thought and studied MaryAnn's face. «You said it wasn't real. What did you mean by that?»

Color slid under her flawless skin. «I dreamt of him.»

Juliette took a deep breath. «Oh, Riordan. What's happening? Something terrible is going on or he would be here.»

Riordan immediately was at her side, gliding so fast he was a blur, his arm slipping around her waist as he pressed kisses to her temple. «MaryAnn is here. The three of us can figure this out and we'll find him.»

For some reason, the fact that Riordan had included her, as if she could help find a solution, eased some of the tension in MaryAnn. She blinked several times, breathing deeply to try to see past the strange image of the vampire superimposed over the couple. The incisors receded a little, leaving them with normal white teeth.

«Is he really alive?» she asked, not daring to believe.

Riordan nodded, «We all tried to hold him to us, but he was dead, by our measures as well as human, his soul

already leaving his body. No one believed we could bring him back, even with the healer and the rich soil and everyone working to keep him in this world, when suddenly he was back with us. If you are his lifemate, you could be the explanation. You may have kept a piece of his soul safe with you unknowingly.»

MaryAnn opened her mouth to protest and then closed it abruptly. She knew the Carpathians weren't human. The same rules didn't apply to their species. She had seen things she would have thought impossible only a few short weeks ago. «But why wouldn't I know if I was his lifemate?»

«It is our men who are imprinted with the ritual binding words,» Juliette explained. «As a precaution for the species to continue.»

«You mean so the woman can't refuse him.»

«It is the same thing,» Riordan said. «And I doubt if he has bound you to him with the ritual words. It is more likely he has tied you together through a blood exchange.»

Her heart leapt again, then settled down to a steady drumming. She had allowed Nicolae to take her blood in order to better protect Destiny, but she had never, never, contemplated exchanging blood. She shook her head. «I didn't. It wasn't real. I wouldn't have done that. I'm still struggling to understand and believe your world. I would never have voluntarily taken his blood.»

Juliette and Riordan exchanged another long look. «You used the words 'it wasn't real.' What was this dream you spoke of?» Riordan asked.

MaryAnn pressed her hand tighter to her breast. She could still feel his mouth against her skin. She'd been outside and it had been snowing. Then later, when she'd gone back to the house and she'd been alone… Her skin felt cool and he had pushed aside her clothing. His lips had been warm and soft and so very sensuous. She hadn't thought to push him away, only cradle his head while he drank and then… and then…

MaryAnn gasped and covered her face with both hands, shaking her head. «It wasn't real. I wouldn't have done something like that. It was only a dream.»

«Do you have his mark on you?» Juliette asked, her voice gentle.

«No. It's not that. It's not his mark. I wouldn't exchange blood with him. Or lead him to believe I'm something I'm not. I don't flirt. And I don't make promises I wouldn't keep.» That's why she was there when she should be… somewhere else. Anywhere else.

«You didn't do anything wrong, you know. Let me see the mark.»

MaryAnn swallowed hard, her hands reluctantly going to her blouse. She didn't want to show Juliette. The mark was private. Right now it pulsed with heat. She moistened her lips and summoned up all of her courage, pushing the material down to reveal the large strawberry, much like a love bite, but more intense and raw. Two telltale punctures were ringed with red.

Her stomach did a funny flip. «He bit me, didn't he? It wasn't a dream at all.» And if he had, why did she feel more excited than betrayed?

«You are what kept my brother alive,» Riordan said, his black eyes on the mark. «As his lifemate you are under the protection of my family, a sister to be loved and cherished. You did what no other could have done.»

«Let's not jump to conclusions,» MaryAnn protested. «I never even spoke to the man.»

«That marks says you're his lifemate,» Riordan reiterated.

She shook her head. «It could mean he took my blood and' I was allergic to the anticoagulant. It could be a bug bite.» She almost groaned at the desperate, all too absurd suggestion, but this couldn't be happening, not for real.

«Of course it's frightening,» Juliette said. «It's unexpected to all of us, but at least you know why you've been so upset. Lifemates cannot be away from one another long without touching minds. Reach for him.»

«I'm nobody's lifemate, Juliette,» MaryAnn said. «I don't even like men all that much. The ones I see and hear about on a daily basis aren't very nice. I'm not lifemate material, and please don't take this the wrong way, but especially not to one of the De La Cruz brothers. They're far too difficult.»

Riordan flashed a brief smile at her. «We make up for it in other ways.»

MaryAnn couldn't find it in her to smile back. The entire idea was absurd, but she was beginning to believe it. «In order for us to be feeling the same emotions, wouldn't the bond have to be incredibly strong? Your brother never even really spoke to me. If I were his lifemate, wouldn't he at least introduce himself?»

«Not if he thought you would refuse his claim,» Riordan said, ignoring Juliette's warning look. «He might hide his intentions.»

MaryAnn frowned. «I would have refused. I have a life that's important to me in Seattle. This isn't my environment, nor would I want to be with a man as demanding as your brother obviously is. Of course I would have refused.»

«Which explains why he would have said nothing. Manolito would never have accepted your refusal, but you are under the protection of the prince and his second. You also are best friends with Destiny. Not only would Mikhail and Gregori stand for you, but so would Destiny's lifemate, Nicolae, and his brother Vikirnoff as well as his lifemate, Natalya. Manolito would bide his time, stay close and wait until you were no longer surrounded by your protectors.»

MaryAnn rubbed her pounding temples. «I feel sick and dizzy. Everything burns. Is that him? Or is it me?»

«I think he is the one feeling ill. He's still feeling the effects of the wound and the poison. He needs help fast. I touched his mind and he is very confused. He cannot tell where he is or what is real or not. He does not believe I am his brother because I did not know about his lifemate. That means he does not remember what he did or how he tied the two of you together without your consent. He's probably wondering what happened to you and why you haven't come to help him.»

MaryAnn sank down onto the mattress and took another deep breath. She was a practical woman; at least she liked to think so. Everything was a big mess, but if it was all true, then Manolito De La Cruz was alive and in trouble. He needed her. Lifemates aside, she couldn't leave him alone and hurt in the rain forest any more than she could have Juliette's sister. «Tell me what to do.»

«Reach out to him.»

She didn't know what she had expected, but that wasn't it. Action. Soft words. A Jeep. «Reach out to him?» she repeated. «Are you crazy? I don't have any telepathic ability. None whatsoever. I'm not even psychic. You'll have to do the reaching and I'll try talking to him.»

Juliette shook her head. «You can't be a lifemate without being psychic, MaryAnn. Gregori and Destiny both recognized your potential. With a blood exchange, Manolito would have established a private path for communication.»

«Whoa. Back up. What do you mean my potential?» Suddenly she was furious. Shaking with it. Betrayal was bitter in her mouth. «Are you telling me they manipulated me into going with them to the Carpathian Mountains because they thought I was possibly a lifemate to one of the men? Destiny? Gregori?»

Juliette sent her lifemate a silent plea for aid. She felt like she was walking through a minefield and stumbling often.

He shrugged his broad shoulders matter-of-factly. I doubt that Destiny had any idea, but Gregori has shared MaryAnn's blood. He would have known. We cannot afford to lose any more of our males. You know the situation is desperate. Of course Gregori would bring her to a gathering hoping she was someone's salvation.

Juliette resisted the urge to take umbrage at his casual admission.

She will grow to love him if she is destined to be with him. That is our way of life. You certainly resisted being with me. As I recall, you hid yourself deep within your jaguar and tried to escape your fate. You are happy and content with me, Juliette, as she will be with Manolito. Time takes care of many things.

It is still unfair that a man can dictate a woman's destiny.

It is equally unfair on the man. He has no choice either, Riordan reminded her. And far more to lose.

«I feel so betrayed,» MaryAnn said. «I thought Destiny knew me, understood me. You don't do this to friends.» Hurt colored her voice, but she couldn't help it. She had trusted Destiny, helped her to overcome her past so she could find a new life with her chosen lifemate. She had even left the excitement and sophistication of her beloved city of Seattle and headed to the remote, uncivilized forests of the Carpathian Mountains just to make certain Destiny would find happiness.

Juliette shook her head. «Destiny is new to the Carpathian society. I doubt she would have known, let alone allowed you to be placed in such a position. Gregori would have felt his protection would ensure you would not be bothered against your will. Most males believe a woman will fall in love with her lifemate. The pull between them is strong and the physical attraction is tremendous.»

«Has there ever been a man or woman who didn't fall in love with their lifemate?» Because if Manolito was hers, she could see herself wanting to go to bed with him, but living with him was an altogether different matter.

«Like any species, we have some born not quite right. No one knows why or how it happens, but yes, there have been aberrations,» Riordan admitted. «Manolito is dedicated to his lifemate. He would never dishonor her with another woman. We have waited far longer than you could ever comprehend for our women, and, although you may think us overbearing and arrogant, we cherish and hold our women above all else.»

The sincerity in his voice made her feel a little better. And Juliette was no pushover. It was just that MaryAnn found all that testosterone a little annoying. The De La Cruz brothers would demand full surrender in all things. She couldn't see them compromising all that much. Even the very tone of their voices put her on edge. She couldn't imagine herself with one of them as a husband. They might be easy on the eyes, but she'd probably develop ulcers trying to be with one.

«That's admirable, Riordan, it really is.» She could be sincere as well. «But I'm not certain you're right about me being meant for your brother. If he did put this mark on me,» she struggled not to blush, remembering the heat of his mouth and her body's reaction to it, «then he did it without my consent. I don't know why in your society you would think that was okay, but in mine, it's wrong.»

«You're no longer living in your society,» he said without a trace of remorse. «Our rules are rules of survival. We only have one chance of survival after centuries of living as honorably as possible. That chance lies in finding our lifemates. Without our women, our species cannot exist and our men must either commit suicide or become vampire. There is no other choice for us.»

MaryAnn sighed. Without grief and despair eating at her, she should have been able to think much more clearly, but now confusion reigned above all else. Were her own emotions to blame, or was it Manolito? And if it was Manolito, how could he survive in the rain forest without knowing what was happening to him?

«How do I reach out to him? I've never even tried anything like that before.»

Riordan and Juliette exchanged a long, puzzled look. They'd never had to explain what seemed to come naturally to them.

«Picture him in your mind. Use details, down to the smallest thing you remember about him, including scent and emotion,» Riordan advised.

Great. She remembered feeling he was the most sensuous man she'd ever conjured up in her life. Heat swept through her body. Had his mouth really traveled down her throat to the swell of her breast? Had his teeth sunk into her skin to draw her life's blood out of her into him? The thought should have been repulsive to her. Any sane woman would have found it repulsive. She closed her eyes and thought of him.

His shoulders were broad, his arms powerful. His waist and hips were slender, his chest muscular. Muscles rippled beneath his skin like a great predatory cat's when he moved. And he moved in absolute silence. His face… MaryAnn took a breath. His features were exquisite. He was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Dark, mysterious eyes, shiny black hair accenting the strong angles and planes of his face, a straight masculine nose and high cheekbones that any model would envy, his jaw strong, with just a dusting of a shadow over it. But it was his mouth she hadn't been able to stop staring at. Sensual, with a hint of danger. Just enough to drive a woman wild.

She reached toward him and to her astonishment felt her mind expand, as if it had only been waiting, as if the path was already familiar. She felt him, just for a moment, touching her, reaching for her, but then… Her eyes widened in terror and her hands shot out defensively. A huge, fierce cat leapt between them with murderous intent. The teeth exploded out of the muzzle, driving for Manolito's throat. She screamed and thrust her body in front of his, feeling the hot breath fan her face. Jaguar.

Chapter Three

w w

3d

Manolito spun around, still on his knees, his hands going up instinctively to catch the large, heavy cat as it sprang for his head. The force and power of the jaguar was tremendous, driving him down and onto his back.

Was this real, or was this an illusion like the shadowy vampires must have been?

His fingers sank into thick fur. Claws raked his belly, tearing through skin and muscle. Hot, fetid breath exploded in his face, and wicked teeth scraped along his arm as he used sheer strength to keep the beast from getting to his throat and skull. For one moment, as he lay beneath the cat, keeping its massive head from his, he felt someone-her-his lifemate-move in his brain.

Her cry of terror echoed through his mind, replacing hunger and confusion with a focus he might not otherwise have found. He saw her reaching for the cat, trying to aid him. Not wanting to risk her life, he broke the telepathic connection between them and dissolved. His body turned to vapor, streaming up and around the cat to reshape into that of a male jaguar with a broad, heavy head and a larger, stockier body the color of the darker shadows. Droplets of blood fell like mist, spattering the leaves and roots as he took the form of a rare black jaguar.

He snarled a challenge and leapt. The two cats crashed heavily together, rolling across roots and boughs, the sounds of battle disturbing the night.

Many cats used strangulation to kill, but the jaguar, with its exceptionally powerful jaw, would bite directly through the skull between the temporal bones, killing prey instantly. As the Amazon had been their home for so many years, the De La Cruz brothers had come into regular contact with the cats.

Jaguars were extraordinarily strong, with compact, muscular bodies and broad heads. Stealthy and nearly invisible, they lived a solitary life in a shadowy world of dusk and dawn. With their incredible night vision, retractable lethal claws, piercing canines and well-muscled bodies built for ambush and stealth, they commanded the rain forest, yet they were leery of fighting one another. The heavy moisture was a perfect breeding ground for infection.

Manolito's first thought was to kill in self-preservation. He was weak from hunger and already dripping precious blood. The wisest and safest course of action would be to end the battle quickly. Respect for the rain forest's strongest predator made him hold back. He and his brothers had always lived in harmony with the creatures of the forest. He would not take this animal's life if there was another choice.

He growled a warning, clearly telling the male to back off. Testing the air, he could find no female leaving scent that might give the cat added incentive to fight.

The jaguar circled Manolito's powerful furred body, showing teeth and rumbling with challenge. Hoping to subdue the animal, Manolito leapt. The jaguar rushed to meet him, slashing with stiletto-like claws even as Manolito reached for the mind of the beast. The jungle erupted into an explosion of sound as the two cats came together.

Birds screamed and took to the air, high in the canopy above. Monkeys shrieked warnings and threw twigs and leaves down on the two jaguars as they rolled in the vegetation. Boughs broke beneath the heavy bodies, scattering debris into a thick cloud around them. Manolito pushed past the red rage in the cat's mind and tried to find the spirit of the animal as he kept its lethal fangs from sinking into him.

Jaguars possessed extremely flexible spines that allowed them to turn and twist, move their legs in lateral sideswipes, even change direction in midair. And the ropes of muscles all over their bodies gave them tremendous strength. Manolito took another vicious rake on his side as he tried to focus on calming the cat.

He pushed harder, breaking through the wall of rage and found-man. This was no jaguar. This was one of the rare and solitary jaguar-men who still made their homes in the rain forest. The Carpathians and the jaguar people had always lived in harmony, avoiding one another, yet this one had deliberately attacked.

Manolito dissolved and took his human form, this time from the comparative safety of a distance away. Cats could cover amazing distances in a single leap, and the jaguar people had cunning and strength beyond normal. He stood, breathing hard, watching for any signs of aggression as the cat faced him, sides heaving, a snarl on its face.

«I know you are a man. You will die here if you continue. You cannot use my respect for the jaguar to defeat me. Why have you broken our unspoken treaty?» He deliberately pitched his voice soft, calming, a mesmerizing tone of notes to aid in soothing the cat's temper.

The jaguar bared teeth, but held his ground, the eyes never leaving Manolito's face, as if he was just waiting for one moment of weakness that would give him an advantage. And Manolito was weak. He held the pain of his wounds at bay and ignored the raging hunger nearly consuming him. The scent of blood was heavy in the air. Both jaguars had been torn, and droplets showered bright spots of crimson over the leaves. Deliberately the jaguar licked at the blood drops, to remind Manolito that he had scored.

Manolito exploded into action, ice-cold fury washing over him at the insulting taunt. He leapt on the animal's back, knees digging tightly into the banded muscle, legs nearly crushing the animal as he locked his ankles under the belly. One arm snaked around the thick neck in a half nelson to drag the head up. He sank his teeth deep into the jugular and drank. The animal tensed with resistance, but the man inside the cat form forced stillness, realizing Manolito could-and would-rip out his throat.

The hot blood pumped into his starving body, soaking into tissue and cells, and rejuvenating muscles. For a moment he was flooded with euphoria, the adrenaline-laced blood too rich and addictive when he'd been so long without and so very closing to turning.

So good. Do not stop. Feel the rush. Do not stop. There is nothing like it in the world. Join us, brother. Be with us. Take it all. Every drop.

Manolito heard several voices whispering the temptation. The buzzing in his head grew louder until it was almost painful. It is forbidden to take a life.

A cat only. Nothing to one such as you. He attacked you. Why should you give him his life when he would have killed you?

The enticement was strong. Hot, rich blood. And he was starving. The cat had attacked him first. It would still kill him, given the chance, even now, when he had spared its life.

Although he felt the difference in his body, he felt sick again, as if his stomach was cramping, which didn't make sense. Insects buzzed in his ears, loud and obnoxious, but when he wished them away, the noise didn't abate. Around him the ground rolled, as if an earthquake had taken place deep beneath the soil. His gut rolled with it.

You need strength. The cat wounded you. You need blood to heal, and it is so good. Drink, brother. Drink it all. The persuasive whispers continued.

Beneath him, the cat began to shake. The man prowling within the animal shouted something unintelligible, something human.

Human. He could not kill while feeding.

Not human. A cat. Tear its throat out. Rejoice in the power. Feel it, brother, feel the absolute power of a life ebbing away beneath your hands. Be what you were always meant to be-what you are.

What was he? A killer? Yes. There was no doubt he had killed so many times he could no longer remember all the faces. Where was he? He looked around, and for a moment the rain forest was gone and he was surrounded by shadowy forms, the stretched and knotted fingers of the dead pointing accusingly. Branches clacked together like brittle white bones, sending a shiver down his spine.

He killed-yes. But not like this. It was wrong. Self-defense was one thing. And there was justice and honor in dispatching a fallen brother when he had given his soul over to evil, but murder while feeding was against everything he believed. No. Whatever, whoever, was trying to get him to kill was no friend.

It took discipline to take only what he needed to survive, only what he needed to push past the beast's barriers and lay open the mind of the man hidden inside. He swept his tongue across the punctures to seal them and dissolved into vapor, only to reappear a distance away, taking a careful look into the shadows around him. Were those faces in the shadows, peering through the leaves and coming up out of the ground? Were vampires lurking? He shifted onto the balls of his feet, ready for anything. The jaguar roared, drawing his attention back to the danger closest to him.

Manolito forced a careless smile. «You have the taste of my blood in your mouth. And I have the taste of yours. You have information I seek. You tried to kill me and I owe you no quarter.»

The cat remained motionless, not a muscle moving, eyes focused intently on Manolito.

The jaguar people were as elusive and secretive as the great cats, and like their animal part-or because of it –they preferred the dense rain forest near streams and riverbanks. They were rarely encountered and, most likely, were stealthy enough and too familiar with the rain forest to ever be seen unless they wished it. The men, like the animal, were heavily built and enormously strong. They had tremendous night vision and excellent hearing. They were good tree climbers and strong swimmers. Little was known of their society, although Manolito knew they had bad tempers when aroused.

Before he probed deep into the brain of the jaguar, the hunter took another slow, careful look around him, scanning as he did so. The voices hadn't completely abated, whispering in his ear, urging him to kill. The shadows his sight couldn't quite penetrate seemed to hold a thousand secrets. Something slithered across the ground, just under the surface, displacing dirt as it moved. His mouth went dry.

The jaguar shifted, crouching a little lower, muscles bunching, drawing Manolito's instant attention. Centuries of hunting in dangerous situations kept his face expressionless, his eyes flat and cold and his mouth a little cruel. «Dare to attack, cat-man, and I will have no mercy for you.» And he wouldn't. Not with the vampires closing in around him. He would have no time for mercy, not if he wanted to live.

The blood Manolito had taken from the jaguar-man enabled him to follow the brain pattern, push past the last of the shields to extract information. Hatred, deep and violent, toward Carpathians. The need to find and destroy them. A sense of betrayal and righteous anger. Puzzled, Manolito probed deeper. The two species had never been great friends, but neither had they been enemies. They held different values, but had always managed to respect each other's society.

There was a touch there in the memories. A dark stain. Something off. He examined it carefully. The spot was very dark in the center, but rings formed around it, lighter in color, stretching out to encompass the entire brain of the jaguar-man. The closer Manolito got to the spreading discoloration, the more agitated and disturbed the jaguar became.

The moment Manolito merged, as soft a touch as he used, he felt evil shift, become aware of him. Around him the shadows swelled and took form. Within the jaguar's brain the blemish stirred as if disturbed. He backed off, not wanting to rouse the ire of the cat any further. The animal was shaking, fur wet and dark as its sides heaved. The man was beginning to lose the battle for control of the beast.

«You have been touched by the vampire,» Manolito said, his voice low and carrying the ring of truth. «I can try to aid you to rid yourself of the poisonous influence, but it will fight to keep ahold of you.» And it would leave him vulnerable to attack, perhaps even from the jaguar. It was a risk, not even a good one, but Manolito felt compelled to help. The jaguar species, both man and beast, was losing the battle for existence just as the Carpathian species was. And Manolito very much feared that the De La Cruz brothers had unwittingly played a large part in the destruction of the jaguar people.

The man stayed quiet within the jaguar. Tied to him by blood, Manolito could feel his alarm. He was no young man, cocky and full of bravado; he was old enough to know the danger of the vampire, and he had been questioning what was happening among his kind for some time. The cat crouched low and nodded the broad head, the gaze shifting from Manolito to their surroundings, as mindful of the danger as the Carpathian.

In the canopy above them, the leaves rustled ominously. Clouds moved across the dark skies, bringing the promise of more rain. Already the air was heavy with moisture and the rivers and streams were swollen beyond the banks. Water poured over rocks and out of banks and made waterfalls where there had been none before. Most of the water was white and bubbling, but on the edges of the rocks, the water was stained with tannin and appeared a dull reddish brown.

Manolito took a deep breath and pulled his gaze away from the blood-colored water, and let his air out, breathing away everything but the task at hand. He had to let go of his physical body, making himself incredibly vulnerable to a potential enemy already occupied by the vampire. It was much more difficult than he expected, now that he could feel emotion and it mattered that he stayed alive.

The dark spot in the jaguar-man's brain recoiled, minute wormlike creatures writhing as his spirit entered the other man, bathing the brain in white-hot energy. Manolito heard the jaguar roar and the man hiss out a warning. Manolito hesitated, afraid of injuring the warrior.

Do it. I do not want that thing inside of me.

Manolito attacked the stain, breaching the outer rings and burning them clean with healing light. The tiny parasites tried to dig deeper into the brain in an effort to escape. As they scattered, Manolito could see to the core of the jaguar-man. The parasites tried to keep the light out of the jaguar-man's memories and hide what the vampire had done, but, unexpectedly, the jaguar-man joined his strength with Manolito's, using his well-developed telepathic abilities and their newly established blood tie.

He opened his memories to Manolito and flooded him with as much information as possible. His name was Luiz. For many years he'd worked to restore the dwindling strength of his species. Too many of their women had left, seeking companionship and love with human males rather than the careless abandonment of their own males. He'd influenced the others to follow the way of the Carpathians and mate for life, to provide a home and a family, a reason for women to stay with them. At first, many had gone along with his ideas and had begun to give up their solitary way of life, but recently, they had become divided in their thinking, as a slow, subtle change occurred.

Packs of men had begun committing terrible crimes against women. A «new order» of jaguars had begun searching for women of their kind and raping them in an effort to have pureblood children. Luiz hadn't known of the horrors, other than unconfirmed rumors, for the first few years, but now more and more men had joined the bands of marauding rebels. He feared not only for the women, but for their entire species. What woman would want to be with men who did such terrible things? He had heard that some of the women now were rescuing those in captivity. Their world had turned upside down, and Luiz had never once considered a vampire might be at work. Now it all made sense.

Vampire. The vilest creature on the face of the earth. Since when had they tried to kill off an entire species?

Manolito knew. He and his brothers had once known the Malinov brothers. Sadness crept in. The five Malinov brothers had been best friends with his family. Now it seemed as if they may have all turned vampire. The idea of losing all of them was distressing now that he was capable of emotion. With the Malinov brothers, they had spent many hours discussing how they could take over ruling the Carpathian people. The possibilities of destroying an entire species, allies of the prince, had been a hot topic of conversation. In the intellectual debate, they had devised many ways, and one had been to influence self-destructive behavior, to capitalize on a species' weakness. Just as the jaguar society had done.

When their prince had sent them out into the world, away from their native land to protect humans, the subject had once again come up. In the end, the De La Cruz brothers had sworn to serve their prince and people. Once their word was given, no De La Cruz would ever go back, given a choice. The Malinov brothers had done the same.

Manolito was careful to keep that information to himself. Just the talk of betraying the prince had been bad enough and he was ashamed. He had never felt shame before and it was an uncomfortable emotion.

You were right all those years ago. The voices whispered once again in his mind. You and your brothers should have followed your own path completely. You allowed a weaker man to reign, to lead our people down a path of destruction. Had Zacarias ruled, the Carpathian people would be thriving, not driven into the ground, hated and feared and hunted by the very people they protect.

Manolito let out his breath in a long hiss of challenge. Show yourselves. Do not hide in the shadows. Come out where I can see you. He couldn't maintain the energy to stay long within the jaguar-man's body. He had to rid the man of the taint of the vampire and get back to his own unprotected body.

There is no need to feel shame. It was a brilliant plan.

Manolito took another breath and blocked everything out but the task at hand. The voices from the shadow world would have to wait. The jaguar-man was straining to hold the beast, keep it from leaping on Manolito and tearing apart his unprotected body.

The hot white light, pure energy, spilled over the center of the dark stain with terrible purpose. Manolito focused his entire attention to the task, risking everything to do so, not only because it was the right thing to do, but because he wanted to make up, in some small way, for his part in the plot devised so many years earlier. What had only been an intellectual debate had at one time exploded into angry possibility, but Manolito thought they had discarded all notion of betrayal and sabotage. Obviously one or more of the Malinov brothers had decided at some point to implement the plan. Manolito had witnessed firsthand the attempts to assassinate the prince, and then to kill the women and children of the Carpathians. Now, it seemed, the enemy had also put into motion a plan to wipe out the jaguar people.

Manolito utilized every bit of energy to fight the small threads of wriggling parasites, burning them out of their hiding places, following them as they raced through the jaguar-man's brain in an attempt to evade the attack. It was exhausting and time-consuming work.

When he was done and returned to his own body, Manolito staggered and nearly went down. His earlier need for blood had barely been satisfied, and using such energy had drained him. Only iron discipline kept him on his feet.

Beside him, the jaguar contorted. Fur rippled and muscles stretched and lengthened. The shifting of the jaguar people was different from that of the Carpathians. Skin and bands of muscle appeared; long, dark hair with streaks of gold running through it covered a noble head. A man crouched on the ground where the cat had been.

Luiz straightened slowly until he was standing upright in front of Manolito. Like all jaguar-men, he was comfortable with his nudity, his body roped with muscles, his hair shaggy. «I apologize for attempting to take your life.» He spoke with great dignity, his eyes meeting Manolito's without flinching, even as he gestured toward the blood dripping steadily down the hunter's body.

Manolito bowed slightly in acknowledgment, while keeping every sense alert for another attack. «No man is responsible for what he does under the influence of the vampire.»

«I owe you a great debt for aiding me in getting rid of him.»

Manolito knew better than to deny it. The jaguar-man was stiff with pride, the face edged with guilt and worry. «It must have been difficult living with such a thing when you have worked so hard to save your people from the very thing that infected you.»

«I know the difference between right and wrong. Most of our remaining men do as well, but the vampire is like a disease. We can't stop what we don't see. If I go back and try to tell the others, I have no proof. I don't have the ability, as you do, to find the taint of vampire and expel it.»

«If you do not, there is no hope for your species,» Manolito pointed out. «Your women flee, as they should. The vampire is destroying you from the inside out.»

Luiz nodded in agreement. «I knew something was wrong, but the hatred toward your kind festered. The vampire must have planted the seeds among us. Carpathian males stealing our women. I don't remember ever encountering a vampire, or one who said such a thing, but I have known for some time that I was not thinking correctly.»

«He underestimated your strength. He must have chosen you because you're a leader.»

«At one time I was. Not so much anymore. The men are scattered, running in packs now, looking for women of our blood.» Luiz frowned, rubbed at his temples as he tried to recall what they'd been told. «I believe the vampire wants a specific woman, one of pure blood who can shift every bit as quickly as a man, fight as hard, as tirelessly. He was insistent if we find her, that she be brought to the Morrison Research Institute in order for his researchers to duplicate her DNA.» He sighed. «At the time he made it all seem sensible, but now it makes none at all.»

The leaves rustled and both men spun toward the sound. The jaguar-man slipped, toward Manolito, his every movement fluid and stealthy, as quiet as any cat as he went back to back. There are eyes in the forest. And ears. My people are no longer trustworthy now that the vampire has gotten to them.

Manolito searched his memories for information that was eluding him. He couldn't show vulnerability, or point out that he was seeing on two different levels and didn't know which was real and which was imaginary. Nor did he even know if the shadow world was an illusion. Could he be walking in two worlds at the same time?

You removed the taint of the vampire from me. Is it possible to do the same with my brethren?

Manolito could feel the jaguar-man stretching his mind, reaching with all of his senses to find danger. He sniffed the air, listened, his eyes moving restlessly, unceasingly.

«Whatever is out there is far from us,» Luiz said, «although others have entered the rain forest.»

Manolito's heart jumped. His lifemate. He was certain of it. She was coming to him. She had to be. No

lifemate could stay separated from the other for long and survive. They were two halves of the same whole and needed each other for completion.

Come to me… It was a command. A plea. Yet he didn't know her name. He couldn't fully picture her. He closed his eyes to hold his memories to him. Skin. He remembered her incredible skin, softer than anything he'd ever touched, like silk burning under his lips. The taste of her, wild and spicy like the woman herself. His pulse quickened and his breath came in a rush, body tightening unexpectedly. He'd forgotten what it was like to desire. To lust. To think of a woman and want to sink his body forever into hers, making them one. Or maybe he'd never really known the feeling. Maybe he'd scanned so many other males it was merely an illusion until this moment in time. Now his body recognized the woman he needed, and it was demanding to be sated in every way.

«Carpathian. You are swaying with weariness. This thing you have done for me, driving the vampire from my body, it was difficult on you.» Luiz made it a statement.

«Yes.» But it was more difficult to look into the leaves of the shrubs and ferns, the boughs lying broken on the ground, and see the shadowy faces of evil staring at him. In the numerous waterfalls and streams, eyes stared as if from a watery grave. Everything appeared to be translucent, a gray, dank veil drawn over the brilliant colors of the rain forest.

The jaguar-man relaxed, the tension easing out of him, but Manolito was more alert than ever. In the distance, others had entered the forest, that was true, but whatever faced him in the shadow world was still there, still waiting and watching. The jaguar-man couldn't see or sense the other world, but Manolito knew he was still in danger. Or maybe the shadow world really was illusion and he was losing his mind.

Because his legs refused to hold him any longer, Manolito slowly crouched down, careful to appear to stay in control. He took another slow look around him, a small frown on his face. Why was he seeing everything through a veil, as if he were only half in his world and half in another? He plunged his hand into the soil he had slept in, hoping that it would anchor him and keep him from the shadows.

Just as he'd expected, the soil was terra preta, fertile black soil found among the poorer reddish clay or white sand in the rain forest. Unlike the other soils of the rain forest, the terra preta maintained fertility. Finding the precious soil had been a deciding factor in his family's decision to purchase the island.

The De La Cruz brothers had realized the soil was their key to survival and hope. Far away from their homeland, without their native soil, they searched the rain forest and most of Brazil in the earlier centuries for something rich and rejuvenating that would aid them not only in healing wounds and sleeping, but also in giving them strength needed to maintain their honor so far from their prince and people and without lifemates to sustain them. He took handfuls of the precious dirt and packed the wounds on his belly and sides to keep from losing any more blood.

Even with the soil in his hands, the large, lacy fronds darkened in color, turned from vibrant green to a drab gray. His breath caught in his throat as a thought occurred. If his lifemate was dead, would he cease to see in color?

The rain forest was capable of overwhelming newcomers with its sheer intensity of vivid, brilliant color and raw beauty. Manolito was at home in a place many saw as threatening and oppressive. Now, with his lifemate having restored his emotions and his ability to see in color, he should be blinded by the vivid colors, but as his surroundings fluctuated between color and shadow, could that mean she was dead? Was that why she wasn't with him? For a moment time seemed to stop. His heart thundered in his ears, a frantic cry for his other half.

No. He let out his breath. She was alive. He felt her. Touched her mind-to-mind. It had been brief, but her

mind had pushed against his. Close to him, the jaguar-man stirred, bringing Manolito's attention snapping back to him. Feeling vulnerable, not knowing what was real and what was illusion, he forced his body to his feet once again, facing the man.

«Let me aid you,» Luiz offered, frowning as he observed the sheen on Manolito's skin. He kept his voice low and friendly, seeing the sudden flare of heat in the Carpathian hunter's eyes. «Are your wounds so terrible?»

Manolito shook his head. He could not afford to go drifting between worlds. Not when he didn't know friend from enemy. That only put him in more danger than ever, yet he couldn't seem to stop it. One moment the forest would be vivid with brilliant colors and the familiar, comforting night sounds, and the next, it would be a dull version, the colors muted and hazy, the shadows alive with something not alive, yet not dead. He made an effort to force his mind back to the situation, to extract as much information as possible when he had the opportunity.

«Do you know who this woman is that the vampire is sending your men to acquire?»

At once the jaguar-man's expression changed to one of wariness. «I am not certain. There are few purebloods left even among our males. There are even fewer women, and only one or two of noble blood.»

«My youngest brother has found his lifemate. She is jaguar. And from an aristocratic lineage. Are you referring to her?» Manolito wanted to get it out in the open. If this was some elaborate plan to recapture Juliette, Riordan's lifemate, the jaguar-men would have a war on their hands. The De La Cruz brothers would protect Juliette with their lives, and every other Carpathian would do the same.

«No one would ever be that stupid, Carpathian.»

«Manolito.»

Luiz inclined his head in acknowledgment of the courtesy.

Carpathians often didn't reveal their names to enemies. Manolito hadn't given his birth name, because he was being careful, but Luiz didn't need to know that.

«This other woman is in danger. Perhaps my people can help.»

Luiz took a deep breath, hesitated and then nodded. «I would ask your help to aid my brethren. If I bring one to you, would you consider removing the stain of the vampire?»

There was a silence filled only by the night insects. Manolito knew what was being asked of him-a tremendous favor-yet also a huge matter of trust.

«I would have to take blood to do such a thing,» he admitted. «This is a master vampire, one not so easily defeated. I could try healing without the bond, but if it is as difficult as it was with you, I am not certain it can be done.» He had recognized the vampire's touch.' One of the Malinov brothers for certain. He'd grown up with them, run wild with them, laughed with and fought beside them. They had been friends.

«Perhaps if we do this quietly, we won't alert the vampire to what you are doing to aid us.»

«If you wish me to help your people, I need you to tell me who the woman is so that we can put her under our protection. You and I both know your men are too far gone to turn her over to the Morrison Laboratory. They will brutalize her, force her submission and eventually break her. And if by some miracle they didn't, and they gave her to the vampire, she would be dead anyway.»

«I will protect her.»

«The vampire got to you once already and you didn't know. He walks among you unseen. Give me her name.»

«She will not surrender easily to you.»

«I do not ask for her surrender, only her safety.» Manolito took another look around him. The shadows were stretching, moving closer and closer. He could see the faces in between the leaves. Skin stretched tight over bones. Black holes for eyes. Jagged, brown-stained teeth. Manolito shifted his weight slightly to the balls of his feet, readying himself for the inevitable attack. He blinked and the images faded.

«She has long rescued the women of our race and she's fought our warriors. She detests the men. She won't come in to be sheltered. That isn't her way.»

«You speak of Juliette's cousin, Solange.»

Luiz nodded. «There is no other like her that we know of. She is nearly as strong as any of our warriors and as good a fighter. She comes from a long, pure line that can be traced back hundreds of years. We look upon her as the future of our species. She will have nothing to do with us. I've tried to convince the others to talk with her, to try to form a friendship and get her counsel on what needs to be done to bring our women back among us. The women listen to her, but I have no more voice. Not unless we can destroy the vampire's influence among us.»

Manolito knew that Solange and Juliette's younger sister, Jasmine, refused to come to the De La Cruz ranch to visit Juliette, but they had agreed to stay in the De La Cruz home on their privately owned island retreat. The island was wild and the house was protected on three sides by the rain forest. He had wondered why Luiz was on their property, not that the jaguar people didn't consider the entire rain forest their domain. They had amazing swimming skills, and the swollen rivers were never much of a deterrent.

«You came here looking for her.»

Luiz shifted his gaze for just a moment. «Yes. We thought it a possibility that she might come here. We knew she wouldn't go to your ranch.»

«And you knew the younger woman was with her. The one Juliette and Solange took back from your men.»

«Not my men. I can't control them. I had hoped to find her before the others.»

«And what would you have done with her?» Manolito demanded, his black eyes glittering dangerously.

Luiz shook his head. «I don't know. I thought I came to talk, but then I scented you, and I became very confused.» He rubbed his forehead. «I began to think you were here to take our women and I wanted you dead.»

«You came to the island in control, but then something happened. You had to have encountered him here,» Manolito said in alarm. That meant the master vampire was close, somewhere on the island, and no one knew. Solange, Jasmine, Juliette and even his brother Riordan weren't safe. «Who did you meet?»

«Not a vampire. An old friend. He had taken shelter here and was leaving because he realized the house was occupied by the De La Cruz family.»

Manolito kept his expression blank, but his heart jumped and pounded. Fear was an incredible emotion, and now that he felt it, he knew it was for those he loved rather than for himself. «Your old friend is long gone, Luiz. Avoid him at all costs. You met a master vampire, and only because he has a plan and needed you did you escape unscathed.»

«You think my friend is dead?»

«If not dead, then certainly tainted.»

«Thank you, Manolito, for your aid,» Luiz said, and for the first time he looked defeated. His body crouched, a quick graceful move, fur rippling as his muzzle lengthened to accommodate a mouthful of teeth. In absolute silence he slid into the underbrush and disappeared.

Just to be safe, Manolito dissolved into mist and joined the low, gray vapor drifting around the tree trunks only a few feet off the ground. It was far better to err on the side of caution with the jaguar-man.

He took form again atop a boulder facing a roaring white waterfall that poured over the rocks and fell into the swollen river. He needed his lifemate. Needed to touch her. Hold her. Taste her. His hunger had returned, bringing confusion with it. He needed to warn his family of the danger lurking on the island, but most of all, he needed his lifemate to anchor him.

Where are you? The echo of his cry was in his mind, the sound lost and lonely.

Chapter Four

mr w

ST

MaryAnn placed one foot carefully out of the all-terrain vehicle and watched her beloved Kors boot sink deep into the muck. She gasped in horror. The boots had been a treasured find. Dark brown, antiqued stressed leather with a tapered toe, they were stylish with their high, thick heels, but comfortable, and very rain-foresty. More than that, they matched her Forzieri jacket in the same elegant color and leather, cut short, trendy and butter soft. She had even carefully rainproofed both for any and all occasions such as a trek in the forest. She'd come totally prepared, yet she wasn't out of the vehicle and already she was ankle deep in mud. She loved those boots.

As she pulled her shoe out, a squishing sound accompanied the unpleasant odor of too-sweet flowers mixed with rotting vegetation. She shifted back onto the seat to examine the damage, wrinkling her nose in distaste. What in the world was she doing in this place? She needed to be in a coffee shop with the music of the street singing to her and the bustle of people everywhere, not in this strangely silent world of… of… nature.

«Hurry, MaryAnn. We have to walk from here,» Juliette said.

MaryAnn gingerly dragged her backpack to her and peered out the open door at the strangely quiet interior of the forest. «It's pretty muddy, Juliette,» she said, grasping for any reason to stay in the relative safety of the Jeep. The forest terrified her in ways she could never explain to anyone. Her fears were deep-rooted and she'd never been able to overcome them. She couldn't just make herself walk calmly into that oppressive darkness like a sacrificial lamb. «Maybe you could just call him and tell him we're here. You can do that sort

of thing, right?»

«He would not answer,» Riordan reminded. «He believes we mean him harm.»

«I did mention I've never been camping, right?» MaryAnn said, scanning the ground for the driest spot.

«Three times,» Riordan said, his mouth set in grim lines.

He was suddenly in front of her; he caught her around the waist and deposited her a short distance from the vehicle. There was impatience in the bite of his fingers. She didn't sink into the ground, but insects raced all around her. She bit her lip and heroically refrained from saying anything as she took a cautious look around. Whipping the can of bug spray out, she doused the insects in a businesslike manner, «accidentally» managing to spray a little on Riordan's stiff neck.

«Whoops. Sorry.» She put the can neatly into one of the loops at her belt, ignoring his glare. Fulfilling the childish urge had given her a little burst of satisfaction. She knew she was stalling, but she'd work up to this her way, not be rushed by anyone.

The rain forest wasn't anything like what she'd expected. It was dark and a little frightening. The air felt heavy with moisture, yet was still with expectancy, as if a thousand eyes watched her. The drone of insects and the unceasing cry of birds were the only things she could hear.

MaryAnn swallowed hard and stayed perfectly still, afraid of moving in any direction. For some reason she thought the forest would be noisy, with the shrieks of a million monkeys, not just the calls of birds and the rustle of insects. Her heart began to pound. Somewhere in the distance a jaguar roared. A chill went down her spine and MaryAnn cleared her throat.

«I may have forgotten to tell you about my weird little thing with cats. House cats. I don't know any other kind, but cats scare me. They have that focused stare and dig their claws into people.» She was babbling and couldn't stop herself. It was pathetic and a little embarrassing, but she hadn't signed on for this. «So don't, you know, turn into a big cat or anything. And if one happens to be stalking us, it's probably best not to tell me. I'd much rather remain completely ignorant.»

«We'll keep you safe,» Juliette assured her.

«I thought you knew you were coming to the rain forest,» Riordan said, trying not to sound annoyed. Was this really his brother's lifemate? She wasn't in the least bit suited to their lifestyle. Manolito would eat her alive.

«Cattle ranch,» MaryAnn corrected. «You said cattle ranch on the outskirts of the rain forest.» And that had been bad enough, when she was thinking luxury five-star hotel dose by. «You didn't say a word about an island and being in the middle of the rain forest. I thought you would be bringing Juliette's sister to me there. I made it very clear I'm a city girl. Give me a mugger and an alley any day of the week.»

For reassurance, she touched the two small canisters of pepper spray tucked safely beside the bug spray in the belt loops beneath her jacket. She'd come prepared for jaguar-men, not jaguars. And she could read Riordan's expression; he didn't bother to hide it. His opinion of her was hitting an all-time low, but she just didn't care. He wasn't the reason she was forcing herself to go into a place she knew was extremely dangerous to her. She had nothing to prove to anyone; she never had.

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 lifemates. 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.

MaryAnn 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 nicked 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, and 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.

She turned her head from side to side, not seeing anything, only thinking of him, the lines of pain and fatigue etched deep into the handsome features. His broad shoulders and thick chest. He was tall, much taller than she was, and she wasn't exactly short. Where was he?

She could hear the high-pitched sound of bats calling to one another, and somewhere in the raging river one porpoise beckoned to another. The world seemed to narrow, or maybe her senses expanded, making her hearing far more acute, so that her brain processed every individual noise. The rustles in the leaves were insects, the flutter of wings were birds settling for the night, the monkeys overhead disturbed leaves as they kept pace. She heard the sound of voices, two men, about six miles away, and she recognized Manolito's sensual tone, His voice shimmered in her mind, sent goose bumps skittering over her skin and her stomach clenching in anticipation of seeing him.

MaryAnn walked fast, urgency driving her. He was in trouble. She knew it. She felt him now, close, where before she couldn't reach him. She didn't try connecting mind-to-mind; she wasn't psychic, but it didn't matter. She heard his whispered command floating in the air. dome to me. She knew he was injured. Confused. He needed her. Scents burst through her brain, the three-day-old trail of a tapir rooting for vegetation. A margay hidden deep in the canopy a mile to her left. So many creatures, even… jaguar. Her breath hitched and she drew her knees higher, pumping her arms, picking up speed.

She cut through a series of slopes running along a swollen stream, uncaring when the lower shrubbery tore at her hair. Water poured from every conceivable outlet, creating waterfalls everywhere. The sound was loud in the stillness of the forest. With little moon and the thick canopy overhead, the interior was dark and eerie. Low-lying fog wove a trail of ghoulish gray vapor in and out of the trees, covering the buttress of tangled roots so when she got close to them, the thick knots and snakelike limbs appeared to be dark fortresses hiding secrets. The huge trunks rose up out of the fog, seemingly disembodied from the roots holding them to ground.

Juliette's nails dug into Riordan's arm as they paced behind MaryAnn. Look at her. She runs so smoothly. She's not jaguar, but I don't know what she is. I've never seen anything like her. Have you?

Riordan struggled with his memories, trying to remember if he'd ever seen such a transformation. It was difficult to see MaryAnn as more than the beautiful fashion plate she always appeared to him to be.

She was intelligent and courageous for a human, he had always given her that, but her courage wasn't the kind needed to be the lifemate of a Carpathian hunter like Manolito. Riordan's brother was dominating and hard, with no soft edges to make him more palatable for a woman like MaryAnn. Yet there was a steel core in her. And there was far more to the package than met the eye. She wielded power and energy without conscious deliberation, yet the moment she thought about it, she became inept and afraid.

The biggest question is whether or not she is a danger to Manolito.

I think she is very confused about all of this, Riordan. I feel sorry for her. The blood tie to Manolito is strong. If it was only the one exchange, why is the connection so strong in her that she knows more than you where your brother is? Because, make no mistake, she knows exactly where he is and she's heading straight to him. He's a good six miles away, but she's making fast time even though she's never been in a rainforest in her life.

MaryAnn felt a buzzing in her head, as if insects were fluttering in her skull. The Carpathians were talking to each other again. She detested that. Were they using her to get to Manolito? If Riordan really wanted to find his brother, why didn't he approach him directly, call to him, draw him out? Why hadn't they simply buried the body at their ranch, where Manolito would have risen among family members who would have helped

him? Why hadn't they mentioned a second home? And why were Juliette's sister and cousin too afraid to even go to the De La Cruz home? Something was very wrong.

It all should have frightened her-and it might have-but Manolito's voice once again slid into her head.

Where are you? He sounded so lost and lonely. Her heart twisted in answer, aching for him.

She wasn't a runner, but she picked up the pace, smoothly, easily, leaping over fallen tree trunks as if she'd been born with the reflexes, something inside her urging her to hurry. As she ran, her mind became still, quiet and certain, assessing everything around her with uncommon speed.

Her vision was odd, as if her other senses being so enhanced had robbed her of normal vision. The vibrant greens and reds of leaves and flowers blended and dulled until it was hard to distinguish color, yet even with the dull gray, she caught the movement of insects and lizards, the flash of the tree frogs and monkeys as they scurried overhead. Her night vision had always been excellent, but now it seemed more so; without the colors to dazzle and blind, she could identify a wider spectrum of things as she raced by.

It was exhilarating to have all of her senses so sharp. Her hearing was definitely much more acute. She could hear air rushing out of Juliette's lungs. The ebb and flow of blood in veins. Deep inside of her something wild unfurled and stretched.

MaryAnn caught her breath, frightened. She stumbled and nearly tell, stopping so abruptly Riordan and Juliette nearly ran her over. She backed away from them, her palm covering the mark over her breast where it throbbed and burned.

«What did he do to me?» she whispered. «I'm changing into something else.»

Juliette caught at Riordan's wrist and squeezed tightly to prevent him from saying the wrong thing. He might not see how fragile and lost MaryAnn looked, but she did. There was a different, very real fear in her eyes now, wary, like a cornered animal. They didn't know how MaryAnn would react, but more importantly, she didn't know, and that had Juliette spooked.

«We don't know exactly what Manolito did do to you, other than he probably took one blood exchange.» Juliette drew in a deep breath, trying to be honest. «Maybe two. You're not Carpathian, so he didn't convert you.»

«But Nicolae took my blood to better protect Destiny.»

And she wasn't afraid of him. Riordan picked that out of her mind. Not like she is now. Why wasn't she afraid to have Nicolae take her blood when it would be the natural thing to be?

MaryAnn put a hand to her head, brushing as if to sweep away insects, taking another step backward, away from them. Fear grew with every breath she took. Something was terribly wrong; she knew it, could feel it deep inside her. Closing her fist, she dug her nails deep into her palm to test herself. She was beginning to doubt what was real and what might be illusion.

She knows we are talking privately, Riordan cautioned, and it upsets her.

And have you asked yourself how she knows? She shouldn't. She doesn't even think she's psychic.

She's more than psychic, Juliette, Riordan said. She wields power without effort.

Or the knowledge that she's doing it. «This is crazy, MaryAnn,» Juliette added aloud. «Neither Riordan nor I know what to make of it.»

«I want to go home.» Even as she said it, MaryAnn knew she couldn't, not until she found Manolito De La Cruz and assured herself he was alive and well and not in some kind of terrible trouble. Damn her nature, the one that always needed to help and comfort others. She lifted her shaking hand. Her nail had already grown, much, much faster than even the accelerated rate normal for her. «What do you think he did to me? You must have, a guess. And is it reversible? Because I'm human and my family is human and I like being human. This is what comes from having a skinny bloodsucking white girl as my best friend.» And she was so going to have a few things to say to Destiny when she saw her again-if she ever saw her again.

Juliette cast Riordan another anxious glance. «I'm so sorry, MaryAnn. If I knew what was happening, I'd tell you. The thing is this-humans have lived for centuries side-by-side with other species. In all those years, you and I both know, eventually the species are going to mix. Maybe several centuries ago, there was something we don't know about. I have jaguar blood. So do a lot of the women who are psychic.»

MaryAnn shook her head. «Not me.» It felt wrong. She knew her mother and father and her grandparents and great-grandparents. There weren't any spots in her family and no one sucked blood.

Could she be mage? Juliette ventured.

Mages hold power, that's for certain, and most are good people, but she would be weaving spells. She does not appear to be doing that. She gathers energy as we do and uses it, but she is unaware. That is why she is such a good counselor. She unwittingly urges them to feel better. She wants them happy, so they are. She senses the right thing for each person to hear and she says it.

MaryAnn's heart went into overdrive. They were clearly talking to each other again. She turned on her too-high heel and ran headlong into the underbrush, thinking she might outrun them, forgetting they could take to the air if they wanted. And they wanted.

She felt the rush of displaced air all around her, and Riordan dropped down out of the sky, cutting her off.

MaryAnn screamed and backpedaled, her heels catching on one of the many roots snaking across the ground. She went down hard, landing on her bottom, looking up at him as he stood over her.

«That way is dangerous,» Riordan explained, extending his hand to her.

She kicked at him, furious with him, but mostly angry with herself for being in such a vulnerable position. How many times had she counseled women about going off with strangers-people they met through the Internet, or through friends, but didn't really know themselves. She curled her fingers around the small canister of pepper spray. Did it work on Carpathians? Or vampires? No one had mentioned them in her pepper-spray class.

«MaryAnn,» Riordan cautioned, frowning at her. «Don't be silly. Let me help you up. You're sitting on the ground. Did you know that there are a million and a half ants per half acre in the rain forest?»

MaryAnn suppressed a yelp of fear and scrambled to her feet without help, backing away again, brushing at her clothing, feeling the swarm of insects on her legs and arms. I hate this! She screamed it so loud in her head she felt the echo through her clenched teeth. Her eyes burned with tears again.

The air around them charged with electricity so that the hair on her arm prickled.

«Take cover,» Riordan yelled and leapt back.

Thunder rolled. The ground shook. Monkeys howled. Birds screeched and rose from the trees. Lightning sizzled and snapped, slamming to earth in a near-blinding display of energy. Fog poured in all around her. MaryAnn felt strong arms slide around her, and one hand pressed her face into a large, muscular chest. Her feet left the ground, and she was flying through the treetops so fast it made her dizzy.

Riordan swore and caught Juliette's arm when she would have pursued. «That was Manolito and he gave us a clear warning to back off. We have no choice but to do so. She's his lifemate and we have no business interfering.»

«But…» Juliette trailed off helplessly. «We can't just leave her.»

«We have no choice, not unless we want to provoke him into a battle. He will take care of her,» Riordan assured. «We cannot do any more here.»

Chapter Five

M ^ ^

MaryAnn circled Manolito's neck with her arms and buried her face in his shoulder. The wind whipped viciously at her face and neck, tugged maliciously at her hair and managed to slip under the leather jacket to wrap icy fingers around her skin. If she thought the rain forest was bad, flying in the canopy was a thousand times worse. She felt dizzy and sick, and her stomach did rolling flips. She'd face the million ants and the tree frogs before she'd do this again. As a child you must have wanted to fly.

She was certain he was reading her mind easily, and she could feel his superior male amusement, reminding her why she didn't care all that much for men. And since she wasn't in the least bit psychic or telepathic, she answered out loud, pressing her lips against his throat. «Never. Not once. I like my feet firmly on the ground.» But his skin smelled so good. It was hard to not sniff and drag him into her lungs. Manolito settled them down in a relatively protected area, which she was grateful for because it instantly began to rain. Not a soft drizzle, or even a steady one, but a hard, pounding downpour, as if the heavens simply opened up and dumped an ocean on them.

MaryAnn stepped away from him the moment she had her legs working. Her stomach was still rolling and pitching, and she swore her nose twitched wanting another good sniff, but she refrained and sent him a long scowl. The problem was, he was looking at her. Not just looking. Staring. Her heart did a slow roll and her stomach did the butterfly thing, but with a lot more wing. And her womb clenched and her nipples…

She jerked her jacket tight around her and summoned a glare to go with the scowl. Who looked like that? Honestly. Men didn't really stand there looking gorgeous and hot in the rain forest. Not just hot. Smoking hot. He was the sexiest thing she'd ever laid eyes on, and he was looking at her like he might devour her in one utterly delicious bite. His eyes smoldered with a dark sensuality, making her forget all about leeches and ants, and making her wholly aware she was a woman. She hadn't felt that way in so long-if ever-that she was flustered.

«So,» Manolito said, his black eyes burning with such pure sin she nearly melted on the spot. «You came at

last.»

Oh, God. Her stomach did another roll right along with her heart, and she tasted sex in her mouth. He dripped with it. «I came to rescue you.» She blurted the words out before she could think. She couldn't actually think with him staring and her brain short-circuiting, so really, as stupid as the remark might have been, it wasn't half-bad under the circumstances.

He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that sizzled and dazzled and tightened the spirals in her already curly hair. Maybe he was the Carpathian secret weapon against women, because it was working on her. The man was a menace. Truly. She had to get ahold of herself. She snapped her fingers. «Consider yourself saved and let's get out of here.» Because wanting to jump him was most likely the effect of the rain forest, all sultry and sweaty. She'd read a lot of Tarzan books in her youth. She was just programmed for sex in the jungle, and the sooner she got out of there, the faster she'd return to normal.

He crooked his finger at her. «Come here.»

Her mouth went dry. «I'm perfectly fine right here, thank you.»

With her favorite boots sinking into the muck. She couldn't move if she'd wanted to. Her heart pounded and fear crept in, not of him, of herself. For herself.

His gaze slid over her, and there was dark possession glittering in the black depths. Not love. Possession. Ownership. Raw sensuality. Her body responded, but her brain screamed a warning. She wasn't dealing with a human male who lived under the rules of her society. She was alone with a Carpathian who believed he had every right to her. Who knew he could control her mind and persuade her to do his bidding. This man would demand total submission and surrender from his partner. And she was a no-submission, no-surrender kind of woman. How the hell had she gotten herself into such trouble?

«I said come here to me.» His tone didn't rise, or even harden; rather he pitched the command lower so that his voice felt like the velvet rasp of a tongue sliding over her skin. His black eyes compelled her obedience.

She stepped closer before she could stop herself, and strong arms whipped around her, crushing her body against his. She fit like a glove. He was hard and muscular, and she was all soft curves and aware of every one of them. He whispered something in his own language, something soft and utterly sensual. Te avio palafertulam. He repeated the words as his tongue swirled against the pulse beating so frantically in her neck. «You are my lifemate.»

It couldn't be true because she knew one had to be psychic, but right then, in that precise moment, she wanted it to be true. She wanted the feeling of belonging to this man. She had never had such a physical reaction to another being in her life. Entolam kuulua, avio palafertulam. His lips whispered over her pulse, teeth nipping gently as his tongue stroked another caress. She thought her body might go up in flames. «I claim you as my lifemate.»

She lifted her head, opened her mouth to protest, but his mouth fastened on hers, taking her breath, exchanging it with his. Her legs turned to rubber, and to anchor herself she wound one leg around his thighs while her tongue tangled with his in a long, slow dance of pure erotic pleasure. The feeling burst through her so that her blood pounded and her heart thundered in her ears. She almost missed the soft words brushing along the walls of her mind and embedding there.

Ted kuuluak, kacad, kojed. Elidamet andam. Pesamet andam. Uskolfertulamet andam. Sivamet andam. Sielamet andam. Ainamet andam. Sivamet kuuluak kaik etta a ted. «I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection. I give you my allegiance. I give you my heart. I give you my soul. I give you my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours.»

The kiss deepened, and she was falling, burning, wrapping herself inside Manolito De La Cruz. She felt her heart and soul reaching for his. Merging. Her breasts ached and grew heavy. She felt the damp eagerness in her deepest feminine core, and her mind blurred even more with the hot passion rising.

Some small, sane part tried to save her, some little untouched portion of her brain raising a red flag, but his mouth was unlike anything she'd ever experienced and she wanted more, his taste addicting. His hand slipped inside her jacket, pushed up the edge of her shirt and closed over her breast so that she gasped and drew his head down to her, wanting him. Wanting. No, needing.

His lips wandered down her throat as one hand settled into her hair, bunching the thick braid in his fist, anchoring her to him while he explored the satiny soft skin. He found the swell of her breast, the mark he had placed there branding her his.

Ainaak olenszal sivambin. «Your life will be cherished by me for all time.» The words vibrated through her, so that she pressed closer, pushing against his thigh, easing the terrible aching emptiness, wanting to fill it with him.

She cried out when his mouth settled over her breast, drawing her sensitive nipple into his mouth right through the sheer lace of her gold peekaboo bra. He suckled strongly, his tongue flicking, teeth scraping. All the while she heard his voice murmuring in her head.

Te elidet ainaak pide minan. «Your life will be placed above my own for all time.»

His tongue danced and laved. He lifted his head, his gaze holding a mesmerizing dark possession. «And your pleasure.» Once more he captured her mouth, stealing her breath, taking her will, lighting a fire in her veins.

His mouth burned a trail of flames from her throat to her breast, his teeth teasing and nipping with tiny little bites, each one sending a rush of hot, welcoming liquid sizzling through her feminine channel. She was weak with wanting him. She nearly whimpered when his mouth found her other breast, pulling strongly, until she could no longer think clearly. She arched into him, wrapping her leg more firmly around him, aligning their bodies so she could press tightly into him.

Te avio palafertulam. Ainaak sivamet jutta oleny. Ainaak terad vigyazak. «You are my lifemate. You are bound to me for all eternity. You are always in my care.»

He lifted his head and once more found the spot where he had marked her. His teeth sank deep. Fire burned, pain flashed through her like a storm, then pleasure so sweet, so erotic, she moved with restless abandon against him, cradling his head, holding him to her while his long, inky hair spilled over her arms and she buried her face in the silky strands. She felt herself slipping further and further from the woman she knew into another realm entirely.

He murmured something else in his language, his voice so sensual, she pushed aside the small warning going off in her head and kept her face buried in the silk of his hair because nothing in her life had ever felt so right. She belonged. She'd found what she'd always been looking for. Content with her life, she had always assumed she would grow old and die with the comfort she'd achieved, but now this was a gift. Passion. Excitement. Belonging. It was all hers.

There was nothing shy about MaryAnn. She had chosen to abstain from sex simply because she would not share her body with a man she didn't trust, didn't love, a man she wasn't going to spend the rest of her life with, but at that moment, she knew Manolito De La Cruz was her other half. She would share everything with him, was eager to do so.

His tongue swept across her breast, making her shiver with need, His voice whispered again, and the strangest thing happened. She found herself standing off to the side observing as she ran her hands beneath his shirt and pushed it up his chest, revealing the defined muscles flowing beneath his skin and the shredded rips in his belly where the jaguar had raked him. Her hand slid up over the terrible claw marks, her palm covering them, infusing them with warmth. She saw herself press kisses up his belly and chest to a point just above his heart.

Her tongue found the pulse she was looking for, that steady, strong beat. Her body clenched in anticipation, throbbing and weeping with need. Her hand slid over the spot, and she stared at her fingernail, the one she'd broken earlier. It lengthened into a sharp talon. To her shock, she opened his skin and pressed her mouth willingly to his chest. He groaned and threw back his head, ecstasy mixing with passion. His hand came up to hold her to him, urging her to take more. And she did. There appeared to be no revulsion, no hesitation. Her body writhed against his, a sensuous slide of curves, an invitation for much, much more.

And he took her up on it, his hands rough, intimate, possessive. He yanked at her clothes, wanting bare skin against his. When she rubbed her body along the thick, hard bulge straining his jeans, he shuddered and murmured his approval; he cupped her bottom and half lifted her to align their bodies so that he was pressed against her most intimate spot.

As if she knew exactly what to do, how much she could take of the hot, addicting exchange, she swept her tongue across the wound and lifted her head to look into his mesmerizing eyes. She looked different, her eyes dark and sultry, her lips curved and voluptuous, so sexy she couldn't believe it was her, so ready to do anything and everything Manolito would ask of her. She wanted to please him, pleasure him, and have him do the same for her.

He smiled down at her and her heart went crazy, reacting every bit as strongly as her body.

Palafertul. «Wife.» He kissed the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth, hovered there, a breath away, looking into her eyes. Tell me your name that your koje, your husband, will be better able to address you.

MaryAnn gasped as the words sunk in. He couldn't have done worse if he'd thrown a bucket of ice water over her. MaryAnn blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. What in the world was she doing wrapped around a man who didn't even know her name, but professed to be her husband? And what in the world had gotten into her that she let someone mesmerize her to the point of doing things totally against everything she believed in? Manolito made her weak. He'd taken complete control of her, and she'd just gone along with it as if he could rule her life with sex.

Fury burst through her, a fury she'd felt only one other time before, when a man had burst into her home and threatened to kill her. He dragged her out of her bed, punching her viciously before she could defend herself, throwing her to the floor and kicking her. He had leaned down and stabbed her with a knife, and when the blade had gone into her flesh, something wild and ugly and out of control had lifted its head and raged. She'd felt her muscles bunch and knot, and strength had poured into her. At that moment Destiny had arrived, and she'd killed the man, saving MaryAnn's life and maybe her soul, Because whatever had been inside of her frightened her more than her attacker.

MaryAnn was a woman who absolutely abhorred violence and could never condone it, yet now she had an indescribable desire to slap that handsome face as hard as she could. Instead she leapt away, at the same time screaming in her mind. She put every bit of fear and loathing at herself and her own actions into her cry because no one could hear her, and no one would know the terror she lived with trying to contain that slumbering beast dwelling deep within her.

Get away from me. For one terrible moment she didn't know if she was yelling at Manolito-or at whatever lived inside of her.

Manolito staggered, fell back into the broad trunk of a tree and stood shocked and staring. No one had ever delivered him a psychic slap before, but that was what his lifemate had done to him. Not just any slap, but one hard enough to knock him off his feet. No one had dared treat him in such a manner, not in all the centuries of his existence.

Dark anger crawled through his belly. She had no right to deny him-or defy him. He had a right to the solace of her body whenever he wanted it. She was his. Her body was his. Blood pounded and surged through his veins. His cock was filled to bursting. He'd waited a thousand years-more even-faithful to this one woman and she was denying him.

«I could make you crawl to me and beg forgiveness for that,» he snapped, his black eyes smoldering with dark, telling smoke. He could feel the pull of her, so powerful he couldn't stop the frenzy his bock-had gone into. Hard and hot and crawling with such a need-the feeling was far worse than any hunger for sustenance. He drank in the sight of her, shocked at her beauty. Her skin was so soft-looking he ached to run his fingers over it, to slide his body over hers, into hers. She had full, luscious curves and a mouth he couldn't stop staring at, sinful and wicked and so tempting his body hardened into one long, painful ache. He imagined her fingers on him, her mouth, her body surrounding his, tight and hot and killing him with pleasure.

He needed to bury his face in her wealth of blue black curls, inhale her scent and keep it for all time in his lungs. He needed the warmth of her arms and the sound of her laughter. But his body needing sating first. He couldn't look at her and not want to be inside her, not want to ravage her, bring her to fulfillment, to have her cry out his name. He wanted her on her knees in front of him, wanted her to admit she belonged to him and no one else, admit that she wanted-even needed-to give him the ultimate pleasure of her body.

MaryAnn wasn't certain exactly what had happened. He'd fallen back, but she'd only yelled at him, the arrogant ass. In any case, crawling didn't figure into her plans. And begging forgiveness wasn't exactly her style. He looked furious, and dangerous, and altogether far too handsome for his own good. A spoiled, arrogant man whom everyone had obviously catered to all of his life. Women must have done whatever he said, when he commanded it. And he must have done a lot of commanding.

She bit down hard on her lip to keep from telling him to go to hell, because… MaryAnn spread her hands out. «Look, I'm as much to blame as you are. I had choices here.» She wasn't going to blame just him. She was a grown woman and believed in responsibility, although nothing that had happened to her since entering the rain forest had been normal. «I bought into the entire lifemate thing because you're… well… you're gorgeous. What woman wouldn't want you?» And she'd reached the point she'd been darned sure she was never going to experience soul-searing, hot-as-hell, unforgettable sex. Manolito looked like a man who could –and would-deliver it. So yeah, she was guilty, but he could forget all about her crawling to him for forgiveness.

Manolito studied his lifemate's face, gently probing her brain at the same time for some clue as to what their relationship had been like. Stormy obviously. And her name was MaryAnn. MaryAnn Delaney. He was hazy about details, such as when and where they'd been first together, but he knew the addicting taste of her. He felt a driving need to dominate, to hear her breathless pleas and see ecstasy cloud her eyes.

He had reconfirmed the sealing of their souls in the age-old ritual because his mind had insisted he do so. But she was a woman who needed a firm hand. Stripping her naked, yanking her across his knees and delivering it to her unbelievably beautiful bottom was something he'd take pleasure in doing. And then he'd lay her out and taste her, eat her, lap up every drop of that feminine cream, memorize every luscious curve, learn what drove her mad until she did beg him for forgiveness. And then he would bring her over and over to the brink of fulfillment, until she knew just who her lifemate really was.

He took a step toward her and something crossed her face, fear maybe. He didn't want her afraid of him, not really, although a little healthy fear might win him some cooperation. Confusion for certain. He stopped

when she backed away from him and looked around as if she might run.

«I could never harm my lifemate, you should know that. At most I would find a pleasurable punishment, one I could be certain you would ultimately enjoy.»

MaryAnn frowned at him. «Whatever you're talking about you can forget. I'm too old to be punished. Look, we've made a mistake. Both of us. I came out here with the intention of counseling Juliette's sister, and Riordan told me you were in trouble. I've never actually been introduced to you before. We've never met. I saw you in the Carpathian Mountains at the Christmas party, right before you were attacked, and a few times in the distance, but we were never introduced. I have no psychic ability. I'm a normal human being who counsels women in need.»

Manolito shook his head. Could this be the truth? «Impossible. You are no stranger to me. You are the other half of me. My soul recognizes yours. We are sealed as one. You belong to me and me to you.» He pushed an impatient hand through his long, silky hair, then reached back to tie it with a leather thong he drew from his pocket.

Maniacal laughter slid into his head, so that he whipped around, scanning in every direction, his body language changing to protective. He leapt the distance separating them and placed her behind him.

«What is it?»

«You did not hear anything?» He knew what was out there. The vampires emerging slowly out of the shadows to stare with pitiless eyes and gaping maws for mouths, to point bony fingers in accusation at him.

MaryAnn listened but only heard the annoying call of cicadas and other insects. Who knew they'd be so loud. She shook her head, feeling her heart break for him. «Tell me, Manolito. You look so sad. You should never be sad.» She willed him to be happy. To go back to being furious and smoldering instead of lost and lonely.

He turned then, catching her upper arms and dragging her close, staring down into her guileless face and meeting her eyes for one long, endless minute. He raised one hand to her face. The pad of his thumb slid along her high cheekbone, regret etching deep lines around his eyes and mouth. «I just found you, MaryAnn, but if you do not hear the voices, it means I am not quite sane. I do not remember things. I have no idea whom I can trust. I thought you…» He trailed off, groaned softly and covered his face with his hands. «It is true then. I am losing my mind.»

«I'm human, Manolito, not Carpathian. I don't see and hear the things you are able to see.»

Manolito wished that were true, but the ground was rippling beneath their feet and she didn't see the face in the leaves or the disturbed soil forming a mocking mouth. He stood very still for a time before lifting his head, while the rain poured steadily down.

«You must leave me. Go back to where you feel most safe. Stay away from me. I do not know why I believe you belong to me, but I fear for my sanity-and for your safety. Go now, quickly, before I lose my resolve.»

Because he couldn't bear the thought of her being out of his sight. Until that moment he hadn't realized how much he needed her. His needs no longer mattered. She had to be safe-even from him-especially from him.

There it was-her freedom. She looked around her. The rain forest was dark and somber but for the water. It was everywhere, forming both small and large waterfalls, finding new paths and converging into wide, rushing streams. The water poured down, relentless and steady, adding to the falls pouring out of the rocks

and dirt. She was so out of her element here, so completely without a clue what to do.

Manolito appeared just the opposite, even if it was true that he was losing his mind. He was at ease in the world, confident and powerful, his eyes once more searching the area around them, trying to assess the danger to them-no-that was wrong-he was trying to assess the danger to her.

She took a deep breath and slipped her hand into his. «We can figure this out together. Are you hearing voices now?»

«Yes, mocking laughter. And I see vampires in the ground, in the trees, in the shrubbery. They are surrounding us.»

MaryAnn closed her eyes briefly. Just great. And she'd been worried about jaguars. Vampires were much worse. Reaching with her free hand, she settled her fingers around the canister of pepper spray. «Okay. Show me what you see. You can do that, right? Open your mind to mine.»

He felt her moving inside his mind, already merging and stretching to meet him. She seemed unaware of it, but the integration was initiated by her. Her mind slid easily and seamlessly into his. Her fingers tightened around his. A tremor went through her body.

You see them.

MaryAnn stared around her at the hideous faces. No wonder he didn't know reality from illusion. The vampires were all too real there in his mind. At least she thought they were there in his mind. «Do you trust me?» she asked.

«With my soul,» he answered promptly. He believed she was his lifemate and there could be no betrayal, no lies between them. And if he was wrong, so be it. He would die protecting her.

«Let go of my mind and I'll get us out of here.» She tried to step in front of him, gripping the canister of pepper spray hard, prepared to de battle with whatever came their way, so she could get him to safety.

He caught her chin and forced her to look at him. «I am not the one holding the merger. You are. I cannot release you; only you can do that.»

She moved closer to him as if for protection. «I can't be the one holding the merge. I'm not psychic.»

«It is going to be all right, ainaak enyem. Forever mine,» he translated. «I will not allow harm to come to you while we dwell in lamti bol juti, kinta, ja szelem.»

«I don't speak your language.» And whatever he'd said couldn't have been very good. It sounded demonic. She braced herself for the translation.

«The literal meaning is the meadow of nights, mists and ghosts. We seem to be partially in our world and in some measure in the netherworld. I am not certain how that occurred or why, but we have to find our way out.»

«I was afraid it might be something like that.» She so didn't belong in this world. She didn't even watch horror films. «All right, tell me what to do, because that really ugly vampire to our left is moving closer.»

The world was gray. A dull, veiled gray with shrouds of fog hanging like moss, draping along sticks of blackened tree branches. And there were insects everywhere. Big ones, flying around her face and every

available inch of exposed skin. She whipped out the bug spray and doused them with a burst from the canister. The mixture came out of the nozzle a weird grayish green vapor, drifting slowly and thickening as it went. The sound was a slow hiss, animal-like, overly loud in the sudden quiet of the world.

«They don't make any noise,» she whispered to Manolito. «The bugs. It's so quiet here.»

Immediately ghoulish heads turned, and demonic, glowing eyes bored into her. Shock registered. The vampires looked at one another, then back at her. A murmur of glee rose, and one of the Vampires pushed closer, his hideous mouth gaping open to expose pegs of stained teeth filed to a razor-sharp point.

«Delighted to have you join us,» the vampire hissed, his foul breath not on her skin. «It is long since I dined.»

Steam rose around them, enveloping them in a thick fog. Manolito dragged her into his arms, wrapping them around her head to keep her from seeing the monsters as they moved closer, the pitiless eyes staring hungrily at her neck.

«Now would be a good time for flying,» MaryAnn urged.

«I cannot in this world. I am bound to the laws of the land of mist.»

The ground shifted and more faces stared at them. The vampire jerked closer, each movement labored. MaryAnn tensed as a long, bony finger pointed at her and the creature crooked his fingers, beckoning her. He blew foul-smelling air as cold as ice toward her. Before it could touch her face, Manolito whipped around, so that he took the shot in his back, rather than allow the vampire to strike her in the face with his poisonous breath. Even so, MaryAnn felt the ice shards pierce through Manolito's body, straight into hers.

«The hell with this,» MaryAnn snapped. «You flew before. Get your butt in gear and get us out of here.» She willed him into the air. Commanded it. She even wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face against his chest and crushed her body up against his.

Manolito might have to follow the dictates of the meadow of nights, but MaryAnn evidently did not. He was locked into the shadow world, a half dweller, but she was mortal, walking in a place she did not belong, drawn in and held by their shared soul. She had only to desire to leave without him and she would be free, but she refused to consider it. He was beginning to know her mind now, and to realize his lifemate had a spine of steel. He found himself in the air with her, moving fast away from the faces staring up at them, the wail and gnashing of thousands of teeth.

He found a small shelter of boulders and dropped down to place her on the ground, hoping they would be safe, but as he knew nothing of the unnatural realm they partially dwelt in, he feared nowhere was safe. MaryAnn clung to him, her body trembling as her feet touched the rock. She slid down his body as if boneless and sat, her knees drawn up and her body rocking.

«You can leave this world, MaryAnn,» he said gentry. «I know you can.»

«How?»

She looked up at him and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. She looked close to tears. His fingertips pushed back strands of her curly hair, lingering against the warm satin of her skin. «You have only to make a conscious decision to leave me here. Condemn me for whatever wrong I have done you.»

She looked genuinely puzzled. «What wrong did you do to me?»

She waved her hand. «Other than looking gorgeous and driving me a little crazy, you haven't done anything to hurt me. I'm responsible for my own hormones going into overdrive, not you. You can't help the way you look.»

He sat beside her, his thigh touching hers, and reached for her hand, bringing it to his chest, over his heart. «At least you like the way I look. That is a start.»

She shot him a small, mischievous grin. «Every woman likes the way you look. You don't have a problem in that department.»

«So it is my personality you object to.»

It was hard to think of just what she objected to when his thumb slid over the back of her hand in a mesmerizing caress and his thigh delivered enough heat to warm up half the world. His white teeth were dazzling and his smile so sensual her body hit overdrive before she even knew her engine had been started. It didn't seem to take much around him. It should have embarrassed her, but in the midst of the strange world she found herself in, potent chemistry was the least of her worries.

«You're still living in the dark ages, my man,» she said, patting his knee, trying to feel auntlike and wise. Instead her heart was tripping, her stomach fluttering, and all she could think about was pressing her mouth to his to see if rockets went off again. Because she sure didn't want to think about being alone when the sun came up, and he was going to point that out any minute.

He brought her hand to his mouth and nibbled on her fingers, his teeth sending little electrical currents zapping through her bloodstream with each nip. «The dark ages? I thought I had adapted to this century quite well.»

She laughed; she couldn't help it when he sounded so shocked. «I suppose for someone as ancient as you, you have adapted.» And maybe it was the truth. He was born into a species and time when males protected and dominated women. He lived in a country where the same rules of society still often held. Of course he would feel he had a right to her if he believed she was his lifemate.

Husband. She tasted the word, aware of the very breath moving through his lungs. He was too gorgeous for her, too wild and far, far too dominating, but she could dream and she could fantasize. She couldn't imagine really belonging to the man, not like Destiny belonged to Nicolae. But if he kept looking at her with those black, black eyes filled with such raw hunger, she might just forget all of her misgivings and try for one glorious night with him.

«I just know what is right for my woman, how to protect her as well as please her, and she should have faith enough in me to trust that I will see to all her needs as well as every pleasure she-or I-could imagine.»

His teeth nipped at the sensitive pads of her fingers. It shouldn't have been erotic, but it was. He made everything sound that way, even his ridiculous suggestion of punishment. It was the velvet rasp of his voice, the way he could make it slide over her skin like a caress. If' someone else talked the way he did, she would have laughed, if not aloud, at least to herself, but with Manolito, she was tempted to try some of his more outrageous fantasies.

«I'm reading your mind,» he said softly, «and we need to be concentrating on how to get you out of here.»

«Well, they are just fantasies.» She was not going to blush. Being stripped naked and tormented until she begged was frankly as sexy as could be, although the reality might not be the same as the imagination.

«I can promise you that you will enjoy every moment with me,» he assured her, and bit lightly on her finger before sucking it into the warmth of his mouth.

His tongue teased and danced until she wanted to scream surrender. And he was just kissing her finger. She fanned her face. Maybe she was up for the reality of it after all. «Would you consider terms? Like not ordering me around? I might concede to working on being adventurous.»

«To be adventurous, you have to be willing to surrender yourself into my care,» he countered.

There it was again, that slow, sexy smile that burned through her skin and found hidden wild desires she shouldn't be contemplating with a man who was bent on her utter and complete surrender. «Tempting. But no. I'm not a woman who could ever turn over my life to a complete stranger.»

His chin nuzzled the back of her hand. Her breasts ached, as if his shadowed jaw had brushed her soft skin there. «But surrendering in the bedroom is not the same as surrendering out of it.»

«Is that an option with you?»

«There is no option. There is only what is. You are my lifemate. We will find a way because that is the way of lifemates.» The smile faded from his face. He kissed her knuckles and brought her hand once more over his heart. «You cannot stay here with me, MaryAnn; it is much too dangerous. I cannot tell what is real or illusion, and with our bodies in one world and our spirits in another, we are vulnerable in both places.»

«I don't know how to leave, and I wouldn't if I could. Not without you. How about I forgive you for anything you may have done to me.» She looked around at the dull gray of the world. It appeared to be the rain forest, but without the vibrant color and sounds. Water ran out of the rocks and down the slope, but instead of clear or white, it ran in dark streaks.

«I do not think it is that simple. First I have to figure out what I did to bring me to this place of ghosts and shadows.»

Chapter Six

M

^j ^

Ghosts and shadows. She so didn't like the sound of that. MaryAnn rubbed her chin on the top of her knees. There was always an answer; she just had to use her brain.

Manolito leaned in close-close enough to envelope her in his pure male scent, to warm her body and make her feel feminine and protected. She sent him a faint irritated glare. She was trying to think and didn't need her brain shorting out. His smile sent every electrical pulse sizzling and snapping throughout her body.

«Tell me what wrong I have done you. I would not hurt you for the world. I know I was never unfaithful. Tell me, palafertul, and I will do whatever it takes to make this wrong up to you, not to get out of here myself, but because I would never want to wrong my lifemate in any way.»

There was enough hurt in his voice, and concern, to turn her heart over. «Manolito, I honestly don't know

what's going on, but you haven't had a chance to wrong me. I barely know you. I am not Carpathian. I live in Seattle and counsel battered women. That's how I met Destiny. We became friends, and through her, I ended up traveling to the Carpathian Mountains.»

He frowned. «That cannot be so. You say you are human, yet you can do things only a Carpathian can do. You have much power, MaryAnn. I feel it surging within you even when you talk to me. You are reaching out to soothe me, to make me feel better.»

She shook her head. «I'm human. My family is human. Everything about me is. I really, honestly just met you today. I saw you.» And thought you were so beautiful it hurt. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. «You scared the hell out of me. Everything about you is frightening, some of it, most of it, in a good way.»

His kiss was the merest whisper of his lips over her cheekbone, but she felt it lodge right in her heart. «Why would I be frightening to you? You are the other half of my soul.» He looked puzzled.

She had a mad desire to rub away the frown lines between his brows, but she resisted, curling her fingers together. «You wouldn't understand.» Because she wasn't all that attracted to men, not like this. Not so that she wanted to do anything and everything he asked. Nor so she couldn't breathe or think with wanting him. She liked her calm, controlled life. She wasn't in the least adventurous, in bed or out. Definitely not in. He was exotic and mysterious and oh, so dangerous. She was-well-just plain MaryAnn with her feet firmly on the ground. She didn't indulge in wild fantasies. Or obsessions, and Manolito could certainly be characterized as an obsession.

Manolito swept his arm around her. «You have only to talk to me about your fears, ainaak sivamet jutta, and I will find a way to reassure you. I will get you out of here. We need to do so quickly, as the sun will be rising. When our bodies are in the realm of the living and our souls are in the meadow of mists, it is difficult to protect ourselves out in the open in the rain forest.»

«Then take us to your home. If we're there, we won't have to worry so much about something big attacking our bodies.»

«We must go to ground. The richest soil is the terra preta. Better to stay where the soil has a chance to rejuvenate us.»

Her heart slammed hard in her chest. «I'm not Carpathian. I don't go to ground. I'd die if the earth covered me. My heart doesn't stop like yours does. Please, believe me when I tell you, I'm not Carpathian.»

Manolito rubbed the bridge of his nose and regarded her through long lashes. «I know you feel our connection. I can read your thoughts much of the time, not because I'm invading your privacy, but because you're projecting them to me.» He sent her a small half smile. «You try to comfort me. I can feel your energy wrapping me up in warm arms and stroking me, reassuring me all will be well.»

He was so close, all she had to do was lean in and kiss his sinfully sensual mouth. He was temptation sitting there, in the midst of danger and mystery. Wicked, shocking temptation. And she couldn't resist. MaryAnn pressed into him, crossing the scant inches that separated them until her lips brushed his. Just once. A slow savoring. Because if she was going to die, or stay in hell, she might as well get a taste of heaven while she was at it.

His arms slid around her, and the earth dropped away along with her stomach. His mouth simply took her over. She hadn't known anyone could kiss like that. She tasted addiction and need. She tasted hunger and the biting edge of raw, carnal sex. For one terrible moment, either terrible or sheer ecstasy, she thought she might have an orgasm just from his kiss.

«I can't breathe.» She didn't care if he knew how much she wanted him. Everything ached. Everywhere ached. There wasn't a single cell in her body that wasn't aware of him; aware of wanting-no-needing him. In that moment she knew no one else would ever satisfy her. She would crave this man's taste, his touch, his face and body, even his wicked smile. She would dream of him and lie awake at night needing him. It was a terrifying realization that her life was no longer her own and that with him, she had very little control.

«Easy, sivamet, you are in good hands.»

His voice was mesmerizing, every bit as sexy as his mouth. Strangely, he wasn't taking advantage; rather, he gathered her closer and held her protectively as if he knew her uninhibited and all-encompassing reaction to him scared her.

«I'm out of my depth with you,» MaryAnn admitted. She tried to breathe, tried not to hyperventilate, but she couldn't get her lungs to work. If it was possible, she thought she might actually be experiencing a panic attack over a kiss. Cool, unflappable MaryAnn was losing control over a man, and there wasn't even a sister close by to talk to. She was so out of her world here.

«No, you are not,» he said, the gentleness in his voice whispering over her skin. He kissed her again, breathing air into her lungs. «We are both in an unfamiliar situation.»

She wanted to laugh at the understatement, but she was too close to tears. Not because of the danger, but because this man who needed to be with some glamorous movie star or model was looking as if he had eyes only for her. She didn't dare talk about it anymore.

Lifting her chin, she brushed his sensual mouth one last time and took a deep breath. «Let's try for the house. I should be safe there. Riordan and Juliette have to go to ground like you, but Juliette told me that her sister and cousin use the house during the day when no one is there. With three of us there, we should be safe. Vampires can't walk around during the day, can they?»

«No, but they often have puppets who do their dirty work for them. The jaguar-men have been tainted by their evil.»

«How do you know?» MaryAnn took a cautious look around, aware that all the while Manolito had been kissing her, holding and comforting her, driving her wild, he had been scanning for enemies. She wasn't going to be able to resist his lovemaking if he ever got serious about it, but she really, really wanted the opportunity to try.

«I met one of them, Luiz, not too far from here. He attacked me. When I reached for his mind to calm him, I knew the vampire had been influencing him. He actually was not a bad man at all. In other circumstances, perhaps we could have been friends.»

«I felt his attack on you. I tried to stop it,» she admitted. «How bad did he get you?» She frowned. «He wanted to kill you.»

«It was brave of you to try to intervene, although you must never place yourself in harm's way. Trust me to take care of us.» He had felt her, for that one moment, standing between the leaping cat and him, and he had slammed his mind closed to prevent any injury to her, but he had felt proud of her and, most importantly, part of her. «A few scratches is all he managed.»

He lifted his shirt to show his very muscular stomach. MaryAnn licked her lips. «I didn't think men were really built like you,» she blurted out and then covered her face with one hand. He was holding the other one or she would have used that one, too.

She was so shallow. That was it. Shallow. Because she was fixating on his six-pack, his ripped muscles, and how could she not notice the impressive bulge in the front of his jeans? He wasn't even trying to hide it. She should be thinking wounds and oh no and are you all right? But no, she was thinking about stripping him naked and having her way with him. She hadn't always been shallow, so maybe it was the strange shadow land they seemed to be in. But while she was at it, she might as well go all the way. She glanced down at her once beautiful boots. Maybe she needed some thigh-highs and a good long whip to be in control of herself– or of him.

«I'm reading your mind again.» There was male amusement in his voice.

«Well good. Try to make some sense of it, because I'm not doing so well myself. Are you all right?» There. That was certainly appropriate. A little slow in coming, but she got it out there.

The rain forest surrounded them, the water still pouring out of rocks and flowing into rivers. Everything appeared the same, yet different. Fouler. Much more frightening and strangely still. Before, when she'd first entered the forest, she had noticed it was quieter than she had thought it would be, but as she walked, she began to hear the cicadas and other insects, the cries of the birds, and wind and rain in the canopy. After a time, the forest seemed loud and filled with occupants, so that she didn't feel quite so alone. Now it seemed less vivid, drabber and dark, not so alive, and ominously quiet.

Snakes slithered along the forest floor and coiled over twisted branches. Worms, leeches and ticks made the vegetation writhe and move as if alive. The beetles were large, with thick, hard shells, and the mosquitoes were ever present, searching endlessly for blood. The flowers gave off a rotten fragrance, and the scent of death seemed to cling to everything. But sometimes, when she blinked rapidly, or she thought about Manolito and how gorgeous he was, the rain forest was all vibrant color again. It made no sense, but it gave her hope that if she just took a little time, she-could unlock the secret to getting them both out of the shadows.

«Take me back to the house. Can you find your way?»

«I do not want to lead danger back to the others.»

«If a vampire is hanging around the neighborhood, my guess is he knows all about the others. We're safer in numbers, especially if you aren't going to be with us.» The idea of him leaving her alone caused instant panic. Her throat swelled until air could barely get through to her lungs, but she refused to give in to fear. He was Carpathian and she was human…

MaryAnn went rigid. «Wait a minute. Wait a minute.» She held up both hands, palms out as if she could block the information flowing into her. «Did you take my blood?»

«Of course.»

There was that puzzlement again, as if she was maybe not quite as bright as he'd expected. «And you think I'm the other half to your soul. Destiny told me that in your society the man can marry the woman without her consent and bind them together. Is that true? Did you do that to us?»

«Of course.»

MaryAnn scrubbed a hand over her face. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. «How many times does it take to convert a person to Carpathian?»

«It takes three blood exchanges if they are not already Carpathian.»

She bit down hard on the end of her thumb, memory flooding her. She looked down at her fingernail-the one she had broken earlier in the forest. It had grown to the length of the others and then some. All of her fingernails had grown. Sometimes that was a problem. She had to cut them often, but not daily. Maybe it was the Carpathian blood accelerating the growth. «How many times have you exchanged blood with me?»

Her palm slid over the mark on her breast. It still throbbed and burned as if his mouth was on it. Why could she imagine that all of a sudden? Why was she so certain his mouth had been there? Why could she feel his mouth, burning like a brand, against her skin when his lips should never have been there? Not skin to skin. He had kissed her, slid his mouth over her; she still had a warm, wet spot on the nearly nonexistent lace of her bra. As sexy as it had been, it wasn't his mouth on her skin, so why was the memory suddenly so strong?

«I would imagine many times.»

She inhaled sharply. «You don't really know, do you? Manolito, if you don't know, and I don't know, we could be in real trouble.! am not Carpathian. I was born in Seattle. I went to school there and then to Berkeley, in California. If it's true that you've exchanged blood with me, I know I haven't gone through the conversion. I would know if I had to sleep in the ground. I'm still just me.»

«That cannot be so. I remember taking your blood, binding us together. You are a part of me. I cannot be mistaken.»

She opened her mind and memories to him. «I'm telling the truth when I say I haven't met you before. It's the truth that I saw you at a party in the Carpathian Mountains, but we were never formally introduced. I am physically attracted, but I don't know you at all.» Okay, wildly physically attracted, but this was serious and she could overlook it-she hoped. Everything was falling into place. The things Riordan and Juliette had told her were beginning to make sense. Her heart thudded hard.

He was silent, assessing her memories of him, dwelling a little too long over the one he found of a man coming into her house and attacking her. He felt the lengthening of his sharp teeth and the demon within roaring for release. Very carefully, he hid his reaction. She was coping with enough, and if he had somehow brought her into his life without her knowledge-or his-raging like he wanted to because she hadn't been safe would only make things worse.

«If what you say is true, MaryAnn, then how is it we are lifemates? Speaking the ritual words cannot connect two people who arc not one. I could say them to every woman I met, but it would do me no good.»

«Maybe you made a mistake,» she ventured. «Maybe we aren't really connected.»

«I see in color. I feel emotions. I can think of no other woman but you. I want no other woman. I recognize your soul. We are lifemates.» His voice was firm, brooking no argument.

MaryAnn couldn't find an argument. While it was true that she didn't know everything about Carpathian life, she knew enough that the possibility was strong. Judging by her reaction to him alone, she had to admit it was probable. «All right. Say we are lifemates, Manolito. You say you wronged me in some way and that is why you're stuck here. Why do you think that?»

His thumb slid up the back of her hand, stroking tiny caresses over the silky smooth skin. He bent his head to nibble the pad of her thumb while he thought about it, the gesture automatic, sexy, burning through her with ease. «I felt like I was being judged for something I had done to you. I should know if I wronged you.»

«I should know, too,» she conceded, trying not to react to the feeling of his teeth scraping erotically over her thumb. How could such a small thing be felt in the pit of her stomach? Or make her womb clench? Or her

breasts feel swollen and achy? There was no way she could ever let this man touch her in a bedroom. She'd never get over it.

«I'm reading your mind again.»

«You do that a lot.» She wasn't going to apologize. «Stop being so sexy. I'm trying to think here. One of us has to get us out of here.» She sent him a smoldering look from under her lashes, but he only grinned at her, his smile sending need skittering over her body as easily as his caresses had. She was in trouble. Big trouble. Huffing out her breath, she pulled her gaze away from his, determined to find a way to free them.

«Could that be the wrong, Manolito, because tying us together without my consent and taking my blood without my knowledge shouldn't be okay by anyone's standards. Maybe you need to feel remorse in order for us to get out of here.»

«I can say I feel sorry for claiming my lifemate, but it would not be true.»

She sighed. «You aren't exactly getting into the spirit of the thing here. If we want out of this shadow world and you somehow wronged me, shouldn't we be figuring out what you did?»

«The wrong cannot be binding us together. That is a natural act for a Carpathian male. I would be wrong not to bind our souls. I would turn vampire and you would eventually die of heartache.»

She snorted. «Of heartache? I don't even know you.» But she'd grieved for him. Cried for him. Had been clinically depressed and now she was feeling hot and bothered and exhilarated in spite of the fact that she was surrounded by ghouls and insects and spiders the size of dinner plates. She tried again to make him understand. «What if I was married? You didn't even wait to find out. I could have been.» Because a lot of men thought she was fine.

His fingers tightened around her and tiny flames leapt in his eyes. «There is only one man for you.»

«Well maybe you were late in coming. The point is, I could have been married. I had a life before you came along and I liked that life. No one has the right to turn someone else's life upside down without that person's consent.» She forced herself to look into his eyes. «I don't love you.»

His eyes went very black, liquid heat, turning her inside out and stealing reason along with her ability to breathe. «That may be, ainaak enyem, but it cannot change what is. You are my lifemate, the other half of my soul, as I am yours. We are meant to be together. I must find a way to make you fall in love with me.» He leaned close, so that she felt the warmth of his breath on her skin, so that when he whispered to her, she felt the brush of his lips, soft and firm and tempting, over hers. «Rest assured, palafertul, that I will focus my complete attention in that direction.»

Her heart went crazy, pounding and slamming so hard she thought she might have a heart attack. «You're lethal. And you know it, too, don't you? Were there other women? Maybe that's your big wrong.» And the thought set her teeth on edge, even though it was silly. He hadn't known her, he still didn't, but reason didn't seem to enter into her emotions. That strange wild thing hiding deep within her began to awaken and stretch, raking with sharpened claws at the inside of her belly.

Horrified, MaryAnn jumped up, yanking her hand away from his She was buying into this entirely. The nonexistent shadow world. The lifemate of a man she didn't know. A species that dealt with vampires and mages. Nothing made sense in this world, and she didn't want to be there. She wanted Seattle, where the rain came down to clear the air and the world was right.