Christine Feehan - Dark Possession

shadow world, although any and all of us would have gladly followed her to make the attempt.»

MaryAnn's heart jumped. The shadow world, land of mists, the place where the Carpathians went after death. Where Manolito still partially dwelled. «How can you follow someone to such a place?»

His gaze flickered. «Rumor was, only the greatest warriors or healers attempt such a feat, or a loved one-a lifemate-but any of us would have gladly gone. And obviously it can be done. Gregori did it and then you.»

She hadn't realized what she was doing when she'd stepped into that other world. At times she still didn't want to believe it was real. «I didn't know what I was doing.»

«Apparently it is dangerous to one who is not yet dead.»

She sent him a small, reluctant smile. «Maybe it was a good thing I didn't know that. But none of you could follow her path, because you didn't have her body.»

«If the spirit leaves the body, the body must be guarded until the spirit returns and enters it; otherwise our enemies can trap us in the other world for all time.» He shrugged his shoulders. «Suffice it to say, only the dead go there. The reason must be great for a living person to attempt it.»

«That's what Gregori and your brothers did, then. They followed you into the land of mists and shadows and brought your spirit back,» MaryAnn reiterated, wanting to understand. He was still partially there. If that was so, she had to find a way to bring him wholly into their world again. This was far beyond her realm of expertise.

«Yes, but we did not have that chance with Ivory. She was lost to us for all time, and we seriously began to question Vlad Dubrinsky's judgment. He had no right to interfere in family matters. It made no sense to us. If his son was mad and he did nothing, was it possible the madness was in him as well? The more we'd discussed what he'd done, the stronger our anger became. We began to think of ways to end his rule. One step led to the next. We realized the other species who were allied with us might fight with Dubrinsky to keep him as ruler, and the Carpathian people would be divided, so we figured out how to get rid of everyone else. The jaguar-men never stayed with their women. The women already were mating with humans and choosing to stay in that form. It wouldn't be difficult to turn the remaining women against their men and to capitalize on the brutality of the animal form.»

«Which is what eventually happened.»

He nodded. «Worse, MaryAnn, there is no hope of saving the jaguar race. Even if ten couples survived, it is too few to save them.»

«Evolution may have played a larger part than you think. Because you spoke of a plan, one, by the way, you reasoned out intellectually by observing what was already happening, doesn't mean you had the responsibility of the destruction of the species. You aren't a god.»

«No, but we did nothing to aid the jaguar in seeing their own destruction. We left them alone, and while we did, the Malinov brothers implemented the plan and helped to push the jaguars to their own extinction. If they have done that, what other parts of the plan have they begun?»

MaryAnn waited, watching the shadows chase across his face, watching him flex his fingers as though they were aching. There was a new note in his voice, the soft rumble of a growl, every bit as sexy as his hypnotic velvet voice, maybe more so. The notes played over her skin, making her feel edgy.

«The humans fear Carpathians because they fear vampires; The legends had to come from somewhere. Whispers and rumors of killings and the loathing and fear grew until the Carpathians were no longer allies of humans. We are now hunted and killed. And with the werewolf, the one ally that we knew had the power to stop us, it would be easy enough to do the same thing, to drive a wedge between the species, divide and conquer. The werewolves were elusive anyway, and driving them underground or secretly stamping them out by arranging killings would slowly dwindle their ranks as well. Eventually someone would have to step into the seat of power to clean up the mess.»

MaryAnn drew back, her breath coming in a ragged gasp. «You didn't do those things, did you?» The masculine scent of him was in her lungs, surrounding her with every breath she drew. Maybe it was the sound barrier he'd erected, but she couldn't stop the thrill his essence into her body, or the way her muscles clenched and her blood sang just being near him.

She wanted to react with the objectivity of a counselor. It was second nature to her, but something else, something wild, was building so that she watched the rise and fall of his chest, the tiny shift in his expression the crinkle of the lines around his eyes, the shape of his molded mouth and wanted-no, needed-to offer comfort without words.

«No, of course we didn't. We knew what we were doing was wrong. When the grief subsided and we could see reason, we knew it wasn't Vlad's fault any more than it was ours that she was dead. We stopped talking about it and threw ourselves into the hunt for the undead. We became fiends, so much so that all of us lost our emotions much faster than we should have. We made a pact to protect each other, to share what we could of our memories of affection and honor, and we have done so. When our prince put out the call to go to other lands, we answered. The Malinovs did the same. We were sent here, to South America, and they were sent to Asia.»

She leaned in close to inhale more of him, all the while lending him soothing warmth and trying to suppress the rising tide of need. What was so different about him? His confession of wrongdoing? Had that made her more sympathetic to him? Or the fact that he still mourned that lost little «sister»?

She had been angry with him for thrusting her into his life without her consent, for removing her choices, and for not understanding the enormity of what he had done, but she couldn't help the strength of her emotion for him in trying to understand. For trusting her with his greatest shame. And she knew that was what he had gifted her with.

When he reached out to push a strand of hair from her face, his fingers brushing across her sensitive skin, she shivered.

«The Malinov brothers came to us before we left and wanted to talk.» His voice roughened, and the sound scraped over raw nerve endings, a seduction she hadn't thought possible. He bent his head, pushing her hair from her shoulder, and his tongue touched her pulse. «They wanted us to renounce the prince.»

Tiny flames danced along her neck and throat, edging down toward her breasts. Her nipples peaked beneath the thin top, and her body felt soft and pliable and so achy she burrowed closer to him. «But you didn't.» She was positive. She knew he respected Vlad Dubrinsky in spite of the terrible tragedy.

«No, we did not. We could not.» His voice held absolute conviction. «And at that time, neither did the Malinovs. They swore allegiance to him.»

And she loved him for that. For knowing right from wrong. For having such strong loyalties even when he loved the Malinov brothers so much. They had been his family, yet he had known, all of his brothers had known, that to turn on the prince was to turn on their people.

«No, of course you wouldn't.» She ran her hand up and down his arm, feeling the definition of his muscles beneath her palm. So hard. She closed her eyes, briefly wanting to feel him skin-to-skin. She wanted to seduce him, to take him into her body and fill the emptiness she felt inside of him.

His eyes came alive with such stormy turbulence that her heart jumped. The dark black irises glowed amber –almost gold, taking her breath away. That wildness in her, that place she never wanted to acknowledge, leapt forward in recognition, and she leaned close before she could think, before she could stop herself, brushing his mouth with hers, breathing for him, taking the adrenaline into her own body. Taking his need. Taking his desires. Taking him.