Christine Feehan - Dark Celebration 17

Carpathians began arriving, crowding close, answering the call to aid one of their kind. It was frightening to be among so many strangers-so many males. She had done this-with her headstrong nature. The vampire had used her worst fears against her and she'd fallen right into the trap. Had she broadcast her fears? How had he known she would follow a jaguar male? And now Riordan was in danger and no one seemed to care. She shoved at Rafael, tried to struggle, but her arms felt like leaden weights. Where was her strength? And why was her vision so hazy? Everything seemed vague and far away to her.

«Juliette!» Rafael's voice was sharp and commanding.

She'd always thought him far too overbearing, and would have told him so, but she seemed to be drifting, her surroundings cloudy.

«Juliette.» He hissed her name. «Riordan needs you. Come back now!»

That brought her up short. Of course she could focus for Riordan, but why was Rafael holding her to him instead of allowing her to go to her lifemate? Nothing was making sense and the pain was too great. She closed her eyes, wanting to let go and just drift away.

«I've got her now.» That was Riordan. She recognized the safety of his arms, the warmth of his body, the shape and contour of every part of him. His long hair brushed her face as he bent over her, the sensual touch so familiar to her. She smelled his blood, felt him wince when she snuggled closer.

You're a mess. I need to take care of your wounds. She whispered the invitation to him, turning her head in an effort to inspect his chest.

The healer is here, my love. He will do for me what is necessary. Right now, you stay merged with me. Riordan could feel her spirit sliding away. She'd lost so much blood, but Rafael had packed the wound and they were preparing for the ritual healing ceremony. It wasn't happening fast enough to suit him.

She was too pale, her mind confused. She didn't even seem to realize her very essence was moving away from him, growing weaker with each passing minute.

«Hurry, we don't have much time.»

Gregori arrived, a tall, wide-shouldered man with long flowing hair and a man's face. There were no soft edges to him anywhere. He bent over Juliette without preamble and glanced back at the tall, slender woman who entered the cave after him. «Francesca. Hurry. She is far gone from us.»

Riordan wanted to protest the assessment, but he knew it was true. He was holding Juliette in a ruthless grip, caging her spirit when it wanted to drift away along with the tremendous blood loss.

A wave of the healer's hand and aromatic candles sprang to life all around them. Riordan sat between the two healers, Juliette cradled in his lap, watching as the male simply shed his body and became a white light. The energy was strong, Riordan had to turn his head away. Almost immediately, Francesca did the same. He felt them enter Juliette's body, moving quickly to her neck and throat, examining the great tears in the veins located there.

You have lost too much blood, Riordan, and need healing yourself. Have your brother give her his. He is ancient and strong and his blood will help speed the process, Gregori dictated.

Rafael immediately stepped forward and offered his wrist. Riordan had no choice but to force Juliette. She was too weak to feed on her own, and he doubted if she would willingly take from another-even his brother.

Raven, Mikhail's lifemate, began to chant softly and all around him, Carpathians filled the cave of healing and those not present, joined in from afar to aid Juliette. The ancient words were beautiful as the voices rose in a melodious throat chant. Riordan knew the healers were deeply concerned because they were using the Great Healing Chant, one designed to bring back a lost soul already moving to the next world. He felt tears in his eyes, feeling the power of the unified people, all working toward one purpose-bringing his lifemate back to him-bringing their sister back to them. His voice rose with the others, so many now, like in the old days, using their ancient language, a language secret with rituals almost as old as time.

Ot sis arm ainajanak hany, jama.

Me, ot sisarm kuntajanak, piradak sisarm, gond es irgalom ture.

Opus wakenkek, ot oma sarnank, es ot pus funk, alnak ekam ainajanak, pitanak sisarm ainajanak elava.

Ot sisarm sielanak pala. Ot omboce palaja juta alatt ojuti, kinta, es szelemek lamtijaknak.

Ot en mekem ?ama?: kulkedak otti ot sisarm omboce palajanak.

Rekature, saradak, tappadak, odam, ka?a o numa waram, es avaa owe o lewl mahoz.

Ntak o numa waram, es mozdulak, jomadak.

Piwtadak ot En Puwe tyvinak, ecidak alatt o juti, kinta, es szelemek lamtijaknak.

Fazak, fazak no o saro.

Juttadak ot sisarm o akarataban, o'sivaban, es o sielaban.

Ot sisarm sielanak ka?a engem.

Kuledak es piwtadak ot sisarm.

Sayedak es tuledak ot sisarm kulyanak.

Nenam coro; o kuly torodak.

0 kuly pel engem.

Lejkkadak o ka?ka salamaval.

Molodak ot ainaja komakamal.

Toja es molana.

Han ca?a.

Manedak ot sisarm sielanak.

Al?dak ot sisarm sielanak o komamban.

Al?dam ot sisarm numa waramra.

Piwtadak ot En Puwe tyvijanak es sayedak jalleen ot elava ainak majaknak.

Ot sisarm ela jalleen.

Ot sisarm wenca jalleen.

My sisters body is a lump of earth close to death.

We, the clan of my sister, circle her with care and compassion.

Our healing energies, ancient words of magic and healing herbs bless my sister's body, keep it alive.

But my sister's soul is only half. Her other half wanders in the nether world.

My great deed is this. I travel to find my sister's other half.

We dance, we chant, we dream ecstatically, to call my spirit bird and to open the door to the other world.

I mount my spirit bird, we begin to move, we are under way.

Following the trunk of the great Tree, we fall into the nether world.

It is cold, very cold.

My sister and I are linked in mind, heart and soul.

My sisters soul calls to me.

I hear and follow her track.

Encounter I the demon who is devouring my sister's soul.

In anger, I fight the demon.

He is afraid of me.

I strike his throat with a lightning bolt.

I break his body with my bare hands.

He is bent over and falls apart.

He runs away.

I rescue my sister's soul.

I lift my sister's soul in the hollow of my hand.

I lift her onto my spirit bird.

Following up the Great Tree, we return to the land of the living.

My sister lives again.

She is complete again.

Francesca worked to repair the large cuts to arteries and veins while Gregori went after Juliette's spirit. Riordan was reluctant to turn her over to him, afraid she would go the opposite way and be out of his reach forever.

She fears other males. She hides it well, but her past has taught her men are not to be trusted.

Do you trust me? Gregori asked.

Riordan drew back. Gregori. The Dark One. Second in command to the prince. He was a straight-up killer, but then, weren't they all? The De La Cruz brothers had always questioned authority, always fought restrictions, and were powerful, dominating men. They expected-and received-deference from all those around them, and they were always just a little bit harder on their women. Riordan felt it took extraordinary women to stand up to his-and his brothers'-personalities, and it took extraordinary men to get the De La Cruz brothers to follow their lead. Gregori was such a man.

I have complete faith in you.

Do not allow her any chance at resistance.

Riordan had no problems being ruthless. He should have forced obedience earlier when he knew Juliette would go after what she thought was a male jaguar. If he had done so, she would not be at death's door right now.