Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: #Murder Victims' Families, #Fiction, #Widows, #Vampires, #Fantasy, #Musicians, #General, #Fantasy Romance, #Romance
It took a few moments to realize she wasn't alone. There were several people in the large chamber with her. They were all around her and chanting in a foreign language. It was like a beautiful melody, dark and mysterious, a sacred ritual of some kind. The men were very handsome, their faces sober and intent, the women beautiful beyond description. The chanting filled the underground chamber with the haunting rhythm of the earth itself so that Corinne began to feel it in her veins. It was running through her like a river, ebbing and flowing with the cycle of life.
The ritual didn't alarm her; in fact, she felt very secure lying there watching them all. She studied each of them for some sign that they were familiar to her. The men were exotically handsome. They wore their hair long, their bodies were trim. All of them were intimidating to look at, yet, strangely, she wasn't frightened. They resembled Dayan, as if they could be closely related. All of them were chanting, and their voices were beautiful.
Corinne turned her attention to the women. Three of the women had long dark hair flowing nearly to their waists, while the fourth had rich red hair. All of them were graceful in their movements. Corinne found herself watching them singing, admiring the way they moved, their gestures and voices, their uncommon grace. The pattern of their hands and the swaying of their bodies were mesmerizing to watch.
After a time she became aware of the hand holding hers firmly. Carefully, because it was almost too much trouble, she turned her head toward that side of her body. To her astonishment, Dayan was standing beside her, his fingers woven tightly with hers. He was chanting the same foreign words as the others in the cave. As dreams went, it was strange and yet utterly beautiful. Had she died? She felt she was deep within the ground, maybe near the center of the earth. It was warm, with steam rising from several of the pools of water, yet the frothy falls cascading out of the walls were icy cold.
Corinne was certain she hadn't died, because her head was throbbing terribly from where it had struck the rocks. Her body felt bruised and battered, and she was terribly tired. It hurt just to breathe. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She was definitely alive, she decided.
Dayan leaned down to brush a kiss across her forehead, his warm breath a healing balm to the scrapes and bruises there. "This is my family, my people. I do not want you to be afraid, Corinne. Strange things may happen here, but one of our greatest healers will attempt to strengthen you and save your baby. I will be with you every step of the way."
Her eyes moved over his face. "You look so worried, Dayan." Her voice was soft and very loving in this unguarded moment.
Tears burned in his eyes, in his throat. He was breathing for her, regulating her heart, keeping her alive as effectively as the human machines had done. He bent closer so he could look directly into her eyes. "I want you to live, Corinne. Do you understand me? I
need
you to live for me."
She nodded, sudden tears swimming in her eyes. She wanted to be his world, the air he breathed. She wanted to listen to the sound of his beautiful voice for the rest of her life, watch his eyes go from bleak emptiness to sudden desire for her. Her body was slowly fading, and she knew that his faith in his healers would come to nothing. It was too late for her.
The chanting continued around her, and Corinne settled back into her dreamlike state. It didn't matter to her if any of it was real, she concentrated on the beauty of her surroundings and the symphony of voices to keep the fear of dying at bay. Most of all, she didn't want to think about her child. She had failed to give her daughter the necessary time to grow.
"Honey." Dayan's voice intruded again, catching her attention.
Corinne watched as a tall, slender woman with long black hair approached her. The woman smiled reassuringly. "Corinne, sister kin." She touched Corinne's hand with gentle fingers. "I am Desari, lifemate to Julian and sister to Dayan, now to you." Her voice was musical, soothing, a healing in itself. "We have with us one of our greatest healers." She turned to gesture toward a man with slashing silver eyes.
Corinne watched as the man glided to her side. He was more muscular than the other men, with long blue-black hair. Power emanated from him. He smiled down at her, softening the cruel edge of his mouth. He took her hand. "We are awaiting Shea, one well versed in the care of our infants. Please allow my brother Darius and me to do our best to delay the child's arrival until Shea's journey is complete."
For a moment Corinne could only stare at him, dazzled by his raw power. She was reluctant for the healer to touch her, to learn the truth. Like Dayan, Gregori seemed to believe he could somehow do what all the doctors had failed to do.
Desari gestured again and a second man came forward. He looked very much like Gregori, only with black eyes that seemed to suit his dark good looks. "My brother Darius, now your brother. He will assist Gregori in this attempt."
Darius bowed, a courtly gesture, then raised Corinne's limp fingers to his mouth. "Welcome to our family, little sister. We wish your permission to attempt to heal you."
Dayan brought Corinne's small hand to his mouth. "Please, honey. I know this is strange to you, but for me, please try whatever they ask of you. Shea and Jacques have not yet arrived, and we must delay the birth until we have Shea here. Without her, the chances of saving the baby are much less."
Corinne looked up at Dayan and was instantly lost in the black abyss of his eyes. He looked so vulnerable; his feelings for her were stark and unprotected, written in every line of his face. Dayan leaned closer. "I need you to do this, Corinne. Please trust me, baby; this one time, do this for me." His words were whispered intimately to her, his need so great it brought tears to her eyes.
Corinne nodded and allowed Gregori to take her left hand. How could she ever refuse Dayan anything when he looked at her like that? Her right hand remained firmly in Dayan's. She didn't want to be alone with her failing body and strangers with slashing eyes and far too much power.
Gregori closed his eyes and sent himself seeking outside his own body and into the mortal lying so frail before him. Her human heart was nearly useless. It was Dayan who supplied the power to keep Corinne going. Gregori moved on to examine the baby. The child was female. Aware. Too small to be born yet. Gregori reassured Corinne and moved quickly out again.
'There is little time. Without Dayan aiding her she would have died, and the child with her. Darius, the child is female and a strong psychic. We cannot afford to lose either of them.'
Gregori spoke to his brother, but he used the common mental path every Carpathian used so all those present would understand the dire need.
'I will work on the woman, as it is imperative she live for both of them. You take care of the child.'
I have only done such a thing with Desari when she was an infant, never a babe in the womb.'
Darius moved up beside Gregori and glanced once at Dayan.
'I will do what needs to be done.'
'She will need your blood, Dayan, and she must not fight the transfer. She does not have any strength to waste so make sure she accepts it willingly. Darius will monitor the baby to determine whether her body can accept your blood. You cannot convert your lifemate while the child resides in her. The child would not live through such a difficult transformation. At this time, neither would Corinne.'
Gregori was in complete command, his voice confident as he gave instructions.
Dayan half lifted Corinne so he could sit on the slab, cradling her on his lap. He bent his head toward hers, enclosing them in a private world. "What I offer you is life, Corinne. For both of us." His breath stirred the thick mass of hair tumbling over her shoulders. She felt his lips traveling over her bare skin, his teeth scraping gently back and forth over her irregular pulse. He murmured something soft in his strange language.
Corinne felt herself slipping further and further into her dream world. With Dayan's arms around her and his body so close to hers, she felt safe and protected. And then white lightning streaked through her, something between pleasure and pain. She lay passively in the crystal world of dreams and music. The flickering flames cast reflections on the wall from the pools of water, reflections that danced and mesmerized, tiny flames of orange and gold.
She felt the presence of the healer once again. Corinne felt a peculiar warmth as if another's spirit shared her body, just as when Dayan had attempted to heal her. It was strangely comforting. With the other presence, her heart seemed to labor less. She was tired, though – very tired. It was too difficult to keep her eyes open even though she wanted to observe the beauty of the chamber and the people in it.
Dayan closed the tiny pinpricks after taking enough blood for a ritual exchange. He shifted Corinne in his arms while he opened his shirt with one hand. "You will do this for us, my love," he commanded softly, gently, using a tone that banished her free will, that ensured she would do as he ordered. One fingernail lengthened into a sharp talon. Dayan opened his chest with a swift slash and pressed Corinne to him. "Drink, Corinne. I offer my life for your life. I offer my life for the life of our child."
Corinne was rather horrified that her beautiful dream had taken such a twisted turn. She couldn't quite force her eyelashes to lift, so she couldn't really look around, she could only lie in Dayan's arm, swallowing the warm liquid. In her dream she could be analytical about it. None of it was real anyway. She was cradled in Dayan's arms, belonging to him; he had taken her blood first, then given her his as if he could make her strong and physically fit. It all made some kind of weird sense, what with vampire stalkers thinking she was a vampire anyway. What was particularly strange to her was the fact that she didn't seem to mind taking his blood.
Gregori moved toward the struggling heart, seeking to find ways to control the damage. Without the baby, Dayan could give Corinne the necessary blood to survive, but that choice wasn't available to them until the baby was born. Gregori watched the healing blood pour into Corinne's frail body. At once her starving organs soaked it up like a healing balm. As Darius's spirit stayed close, monitoring the baby, Gregori went to work on the stuttering heart, meticulously repairing the damaged valve, utilizing the blood flowing freely into his patient. It wasn't the same as treating an injury. This damage was caused by a disease that had been slowly, insidiously wearing away at her heart. In her favor was Dayan's powerful blood flowing into her, along with his iron will, his heart and soul, his total, unconditional love.
Darius hovered close to the baby, soothing her, offering her reassurance and encouragement. As the blood of an ancient flowed into her little body, the transformation began. Her hearing would be superior, her looks enhanced, her body stronger. Corinne could only benefit from the blood, but the baby wasn't wholly formed yet. Reshaping her organs was going to be dangerous to the child. When the baby became frightened, bewildered by the strange sensations, Darius flooded her with warmth and reached out to make a telepathic bond with her. He told her stories of their world, of the Carpathians in need, of how precious she was to their people, how important it was that she hang on and stay with her mother who loved her so very much.
The small amount of blood Corinne had drunk was now cycling through the child's body. Darius was merged with the baby and felt the rush like a fireball.
'Stop!'
he ordered sharply.
Dayan immediately inserted his hand to gently stop Corinne from feeding. He whispered the order to her, watching her face anxiously. Corinne was astonished when a tall, blond stranger with golden eyes leaned over and casually closed the deep wound on Dayan's chest with his tongue. He kept one hand on Dayan's shoulder, a gesture that spoke volumes to Corinne.
"Are you Julian, Desari's lifemate?" she startled them all by asking.
The man bowed slightly from the waist, his golden eyes on her face. "I am indeed Julian, lifemate to Desari and brother kin to Dayan. I am pleased to meet you, Corinne. We had hoped and prayed that Dayan would find you."
"Are you real? Is all of this real?" She was looking at him because he looked much more approachable than the other males.
He smiled at her, his teeth very white, very straight. "Do you want it to be?"
Corinne tightened her hold on Dayan. He was her reality. In her body, the baby was moving almost violently. She pressed one hand over her stomach protectively. "She doesn't like this, Dayan. I think I'd better be dreaming."
Gregori and Dayan both glanced apprehensively at Darius. He was still merged wholly with the baby. His concentration seemed total. Dayan leaned close to Corinne. "I know Darius. His strength of will. There is no way he will allow our baby to slip away from us." He bit gently, insistently at her knuckles to keep her attention focused on him. "Tell me how you are feeling, honey. Your color is slightly better." He was still merged with her, helping to regulate her heart and lungs, terrified of allowing her to try it on her own. "How do you feel?"
Mostly she was afraid for her baby. She took a moment to breathe evenly and stop her panic before it became full-blown. She did feel better; it wasn't such a terrible struggle just to breathe. She still felt weak and tired and wanted to sleep. "Dayan – " She said his name very softly, looking around once more. She was still in an underground chamber and there were still people around her. "Am I awake? I can't seem to tell the difference anymore, and it's alarming."
"Right at this moment you are very much awake, Corinne. Some of my family are here with us," Dayan said with gentle reassurance.
She examined his chest. His shirt was immaculate, unbuttoned, but his chest muscles were smooth, without a single blemish. There was no wound where she had fed. No sign of blood. For some reason, that provided the solace she needed for peace of mind. She was clearly mixing up her bizarre dreams with reality. "Tell me where Lisa is."