Christine Feehan: Dark Possession

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

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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.