Dark Nights Part 39

"I have waited centuries for this moment," he whispered, his fingers threading through her cap of dark, silky hair and bunching the strands inside his tightly closed fist.

Joie licked at his broad chest, right over the pounding beat. She felt the answer in her veins. That dark need that throbbed and burned. So much hunger. She couldn't tell the difference between her s.e.xual appet.i.te and her need to connect them together through his pure, ancient blood. All that mattered was the l.u.s.t rising in his eyes. The way his body surged into hers, connecting them. The way his mind moved so erotically in hers and that deep well of hunger inflaming her every nerve ending.

She sank her teeth deep. His body arched. His hips slammed deep and hard sending shock waves of sheer pleasure rushing through her. Little whips of lightning sizzled through her veins and rushed to her core. She felt his essence flow into her, filling her the way his mind and body filled her. She would never be alone, always connected to him. She didn't think she'd ever get enough of him, not his mind, not his blood and certainly not his body. She drank as though starved, embracing the life he'd given her.

Enough, use your tongue to close the wound.

The moment she did as he instructed, Traian trapped her in his arms and rolled over, pinning her underneath him, dragging her legs up over his shoulders, almost in one smooth motion, hands sliding to her hips, taking control. He surged into her over and over, driving her up further and further until she was gasping his name.

He felt her sheath clamp down hard, a fiery sensation that milked and gripped until he couldn't hold back any longer, emptying himself into her, giving her everything he was. She cried out as the waves of pleasure crashed over and through her. The aftershocks continued as they lay together, holding one another close. Traian spent a good amount of time kissing her before he reluctantly left her body.

"You really need to go to sleep, Joie. I am being far too selfish."

She laughed softly. "I started it."

Traian wrapped his body around hers protectively, her head on his shoulder, his breath warm on her neck. "I must say I am glad you did."

"We only managed to kill two of the master vampires, Traian," Joie said, nuzzling his shoulder drowsily. "There were three of them, and the other one took your blood. Is that going to be a major problem? Should we go after him?"

"He is long gone, Joie. Perhaps we will not see him for another century, let us hope not. I fear if he returns, his hatred of your brother will outweigh his hatred of the prince."

"Then we'll have to stick close to Jubal, although he can never know that's what we're doing," she said, her eyelashes drifting down.

He wrapped his arm around her. "The three of you are so close, I can't imagine that being a problem, although because the master vampire took my blood, he could conceivably try to use me to spy on my people. I intend to stay away from the prince just to be on the safe side."

"Perhaps visiting my parents will make tracking down the master vampire who got away much more of an interesting proposition."

He laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. "I am looking forward to the visit home."

"Mom won't be happy I'm not having an elaborate wedding."

"We will have to give her five or six little grandchildren to make up for it then." He held his breath.

She turned her head to look at him. "Is that possible?"

"We can only try. If you are willing."

A slow smile lit her eyes. She leaned into him for a kiss before she settled down again, ready for sleep. "I think it will be the only possible way to appease my mother. I'm all for it."

"Go to sleep, avio palafertiilam-my lifemate," Traian whispered, love rising to overwhelm him. Joie had courage and she would face whatever their future held right beside him. "I am a lucky man." He gave the command to send her to the deep sleep of their people to allow both of them to heal properly.

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Read on for a

bonus Carpathian story

DARK DREAM

Prologue

The night was black, the moon and stars blotted out by ominous swirling clouds gathering overhead. Threads of shiny black obsidian spun and whirled in a kind of fury, yet the wind was still. Small animals huddled in their dens, beneath rocks and fallen logs, scenting the mood of the land.

Mists floated eerily out of the forest, clinging to the tree trunks so that they seemed to rise up out the fog. Long, wide bands of shimmering white. Swirling prisms of glittering opaque colors. Gliding across the sky, weaving in and out of the overhead canopy, a large owl circled the great stone house built into the high cliffs. A second owl, then a third appeared, silently making lazy circles above the branches and the rambling house. A lone wolf, quite large, with a s.h.a.ggy black coat and glittering eyes, loped out of the trees into the clearing.

Out of the darkness, on the balcony of the rock house, a figure glided forward, looking out into the night. He opened his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. At once the wind began to move, a soft, gentle breeze. Insects took up their nightly chorus. Branches swayed and danced. The mist thickened and shimmered, forming many figures in the eerie night. The owls settled, one on the ground, two on the balcony railing, shape-shifting as they did, the feathers melting into skin, wings expanding into arms. The wolf was contorting even as it leaped onto the porch, shifting easily on the run so that a man landed, solid and whole.

"Welcome." The voice was beautiful, melodious, a sorcerer's weapon. Vladimir Dubrinsky, Prince of the Carpathian people, watched in sorrow as his loyal kindred materialized from the mist, from the raptors and wolves, into strong, handsome warriors. Fighters every one. Loyal men. True. Selfless. These were his volunteers. These were the men he was sending to their death. He was sentencing each of them to centuries of unbearable loneliness, of unrelenting bleakness. They would live out their long lives until each moment was beyond endurance. They would be far from home, far from their kin, far from the soothing, healing soil of their homeland. They would know no hope, have nothing but their honor to aid them in the coming centuries.

His heart was so heavy, Vladimir thought it would break in two. Warmth seeped into the cold of his body, and he felt her stirring in his mind. Sarantha. His lifemate. Of course she would share this moment, his darkest hour, as he sent these young men to their horrendous fate.

They gathered around him, silent, their faces serious-good faces, handsome, sensual, strong. The unblinking, steady eyes of confident men, men who were tried and true, men who had seen hundreds of battles. So many of his best. The wrenching in Vladimir's body was physical, a fierce burning in his heart and soul. Deep. Pitiless. These men deserved so much more than the ugly life he must give them. He took a breath, let it out slowly. He had the great and terrible gift of precognition. He saw the desperate plight of his people. He had no real choice and could only trust in G.o.d to be merciful as he could not afford to be.

"I thank all of you. You have not been commanded but have come voluntarily, the guardians of our people. Each of you has made the choice to give up your chance at life to ensure that our people are safe, that other species in the world are safe. You humble me with your generosity, and I am honored to call you my brethren, my kin."

There was complete silence. The Prince's sorrow weighed like a stone in his heart, and, sharing his mind, the warriors caught a glimpse of the enormity of his pain. The wind moved gently through the crowd, ruffled hair with the touch of a father's hand, gently, lovingly, brushed a shoulder, an arm.

His voice, when it came again, was achingly beautiful. "I have seen the fall of our people. Our women grow fewer. We do not know why female children are not born to our couples, but fewer are conceived than ever before, and even fewer live. It is becoming much more difficult to keep our children alive, male or female. The scarcity of our women has grown to crisis point. Our males are turning vampire, and the evil is spreading across the land faster than our hunters can keep up. Before, in lands far from us, the lycanthroscope and the Jaguar race were strong enough to keep these monsters under control, but their numbers have dwindled and they cannot stem the tide. Our world is changing, and we must meet the new problems head on."

He stopped, once again looking over their faces. Loyalty and honor ran deep in their blood. He knew each of them by name, knew each of their strengths and weaknesses. They should have been the future of his species, but he was sending them to walk a solitary path of unrelenting hardship.

"All of you must know these things I am about to tell you. Each of you weigh your decision one last time before you are a.s.signed a land to guard. Where you are going there are none of our women. Your lives will consist of hunting and destroying the vampire in the lands where I send you. There will be none of your countrymen to aid you, to be companions, other than those I send with you. There will be no healing Carpathian soil to offer comfort when you are wounded in your battles. Each kill will bring you closer to the edge of the worst possible fate. The demon within will rage and fight you for control. You will be obliged to hang on as long as you are able, and then, before it is too late, before the demon finds and claims you, you must terminate your life. Plagues and hardships will sweep these lands, wars are inevitable, and I have seen my own death and the death of our women and children. The death of mortals and immortals alike."

That brought the first stirring among the men, a protest unspoken but rather of the mind, a collective objection that swept through their linked minds. Vladimir held up his hand. "There will be much sorrow before our time is finished. Those coming after us will be without hope, without the knowledge, even, of what our world has been and what a lifemate is to us. Theirs will be a much more difficult existence. We must do all that we can to ensure that mortals and immortals alike are as safe as possible." His eyes moved over their faces, settled on two that looked alike.

Lucian and Gabriel. Twins. Children of his own second in command. Already they were working tirelessly to remove all that was evil from their world. "I knew that you would volunteer. The danger to our homeland and our people is as great as the danger to the outside world. I must ask that you stay here where the fight will be brother against brother and friend against friend. Without you to guard our people, we will fall. You must stay here, in these lands, and guard our soil until such time as you perceive you are needed elsewhere."

Neither twin attempted to argue with the Prince. His word was law, and it was a measure of his people's respect and love that they obeyed him without question. Lucian and Gabriel exchanged one long look. If they spoke on their private mental path, they didn't share their thoughts with any other. They simply nodded their heads in unison, in agreement with their Prince's decision.

The Prince turned, his black eyes piercing, probing, searching the hearts and minds of his warriors. "In the jungles and forests of far-off lands the great Jaguar have begun to decline. The Jaguar are a powerful people with many gifts, great psychic talents, but they are solitary creatures. The men find and mate with the women then leave them and the young to fend for themselves. The Jaguar men are secretive, refusing to come out of the jungles and mingle with humans. They prefer that the superst.i.tious revere them as deities. The women have naturally turned to those who would love them and care for them, see them as the treasures they are. They have, for some time, been mating with human men and living as humans. Their bloodlines have been weakened; fewer and fewer exist in their true form. Within a hundred years, perhaps two hundred, this race will cease to exist. They lose their women because they know not what is precious and important. We have lost ours through nature itself." The black eyes moved over a tall, handsome warrior, one whose father had fought beside the Prince for centuries and had died at the hands of a master vampire.

The warrior was tall and straight with wide shoulders and flowing black hair. A true and relentless hunter, one of so many he would be sentencing to an ugly existence this night. This fighter had been proven many times over in battle, was loyal and unswerving in his duties. He would be one of the few sent out alone, while the others would go in groups or pairs to aid one another. Vlad sighed heavily and forced himself to give the orders. He leaned respectfully toward the warrior he was addressing, but spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

"You will go to this land and rid the world of the monsters our males have chosen to become. You must avoid all confrontation with the Jaguar. Their species, as ours must, will either find a way to join the world or become extinct like so many others before us. You will not engage them in battle. Leave them to their own devices. Avoid the werewolf as best you can. They are, like us, struggling to survive in a changing world. I give you my blessing, the love and thanks of our people, and may G.o.d go with you into the night, into your new land. You must embrace this land, make it your own, make it your home.