Then I will come to you! Shea was very alarmed.

Jacques could almost see her face, the enormous green eyes wide with worry, her chin determined.

You will do as I bid, Shea. I cannot worry about both of us and succeed. He used his firmest voice, sending a reinforcing push toward her.

He could feel her reluctance to obey him, but she did not protest further, believing she might endanger him. Jacques moved up the stairs stealthily. The door was slightly ajar, the wind pushing it gently to and fro. The hinges were old and rusty and squeaked with each shift of the wind.

Jacques slipped inside to the smell of death and fear, the overwhelming scent of blood.

The floor was a pool of dark, nearly black liquid, sticky and thick. The two bodies had been flung carelessly aside after the vampire had sated himself on the adrenaline-laced sustenance.

He had deliberately drained the rest of the blood from the bodies so that the smell of it would further trigger Jacques' need to feed. He also made certain there was nothing left for Jacques to use to ease that biting, gnawing hunger. It was growing in him every moment, weakening his body, preying on his strength.

No, it's not, Jacques. Shea's voice was a soft, clean note in his head. You are not weak. You are strong, very strong and healthy. The vampire has set another trap for you. Get out of the house, get into the open air. You are young and strong. There is nothing he can do to you. In her mind there was complete confidence in him, not so much as a shadow of worry or doubt. She believed in him.

Jacques could do no other than to follow her lead and believe in himself.

Very carefully he searched the interior of the cabin, looking for hidden traps. When the feeling of doom persisted in creeping into his mind, he reached for Shea's reassuring presence. She was always there, utterly loyal, determined to make him see himself as she saw him. Her belief in him enabled him to see how the vampire's trap was preying on his mind. He found himself smiling grimly, without humor. He acknowledged the vampire's power and expertise in illusion, but Shea had broken the spell with her unfailing belief in him. Jacques was strong enough to deal with the undead; it was only a matter of perceiving the traps for the illusions they were.

Jacques made his way outside into the cool night air. The wind tugged at his clothing, raked at his long hair. A lone wolf howled, endlessly calling for a mate. The sound caught at him, touched a spot in him, and he lifted his head and crooned softly into the night. The wolf was wandering far from its companions, alone, an outcast to those who did not understand its predatory nature.

A sound alerted him, a mere rustle in the underbrush, but it was enough to draw his mind away from the wolf and back to the enemy stalking him. He lowered his body into a crouch, centering himself for the attack. When he turned his head, Rand moved out into the open. He was smeared with blood, his fangs exposed, his eyes red-rimmed, and his nails long, clawed tips. His skin, flushed from his recent kills, was stretched taut against his skull so that he had the look of death clinging to him.

"I knew you would leave your bride to feast upon the humans. You could not resist when blood was there for the taking," Rand said in a voice edged with contempt.

Jacques' eyebrows rose a fraction. "You seem to help yourself to whatever you desire. Does that include other men's lifemates?"

Rand's mouth twisted into an ugly snarl. "You took my lifemate from me. You and your brother. Yet now both of you have found the very thing you would never allow me to have. I will destroy Mikhail and his woman, and I will take back from you what is rightfully mine."

"Maggie is dead, Rand, and only you are responsible. You left Noelle to the human butchers while you rushed out to see your lifemate, yet you did not have the courage to bring her before Mikhail and announce her as such. She would still be alive if you had."

"Noelle would have murdered her. She threatened to do so many times."

"Mikhail would never have allowed such a thing, and you know it. It was your own lack of courage that killed her. Any Carpathian male worth anything will stand up for the one he chooses for his lifemate. Is it possible, Rand, that you were so warped with all your womanizing that you simply did not want to make a full commitment to Maggie? Perhaps you liked having the two women, liked to taunt Noelle. Perhaps the two of you had a twisted, perverted relationship, and you could not quite bring yourself to give it up for something so right and pure."

Rand roared, his head back, the sound issuing forth one of anger and agony. "You go too far, dark one. You think I cannot see what you really are? You are a killer. It is plain to those of us who see you with clear eyes. Do you not feel the need to destroy? Do you not enjoy the power? You are one with me, whether you choose to see it or not. Your nature is dark and ugly, like the world you and your brother forced me to occupy. I do not need to destroy one such as you-you will do so on your own. The woman will see what you are eventually."

"Shea knows exactly what I am, and she is willing to live with me. You chose your own life and your own fate, Rand. You rose before your time-"

"I felt the rending tear when my lifemate chose death!"

"That does not excuse your responsibility in the matter. She would not have chosen death had you been man enough to take her before Mikhail and show the world she belonged to you. And you could have chosen to follow her to her fate, but again you left her to face the unknown by herself.

Instead you blamed others for your inadequacies and set out to revenge yourself. Tell me, Rand, why did you deliver your own son into the hands of those butchers? He was a boy, a mere eighteen. What had he done to deserve such a terrible fate?"

Rand's face twisted into a snarling mask of hatred. "I gave him a chance to join me, to seek retribution for what Mikhail and you had done to me. I went to him, his own father, and explained my plan. He was so brainwashed by you, by Mikhail, that he called me vampire. I could see you had twisted his mind. He would not listen to me. I could not allow such a traitor to live. My slaves dealt him with. They thought they controlled me, but I put thoughts into their heads at will. They named me Vulture and thought to destroy me after they had used me. It was amusing to turn them against one another, to force them to set each other up for the kill. Wallace and Slovensky were evil men and easy to ensnare. Smith was weak, a follower, a good sacrifice."

"You had them torture and mutilate your own son. And what of the others? Why the others?"

Rand smiled, a wicked, humorless parody of amusement. "For the fun, of course, for the practice.

Gregori thinks he is the only one who can use the dark secrets, but he is not as smart as he thinks."

"And do you plan to kill him also?"

"I do not have to take that chance. He will turn soon." There was a wealth of satisfaction in Rand's voice. "He will not choose death, as you all think he will. He has battled too long, and he is far too powerful. He will rip this world apart. And he will squash like bugs those who seek to destroy him.

Aidan and Julian together might have a chance, but they, too, are close to turning. Together we will rule, as our race should have from the beginning. It is your brother who has kept our people from their rightful place. Humans are cattle to be used to sate our hunger, to serve our needs, yet we hide from them like cowards. The others hate me now, but soon all the ancients will join me."

"And what of Shea in this master plan?"

"She will become one of us after your death. Her blood is Maggie's blood, and she belongs to me.

You had no right to her."

"And you believe that you can defeat me in battle?" Jacques' head was up, the demon in him struggling for freedom, wanting the joy and thrill of the fight. Hatred rose for this man who had destroyed his innocence, his family, his memories, his beliefs. Savage hatred for this man who had created a dark, dangerous being in the place of a gentle Carpathian rose and began to spread like a dark stain across his soul.

"You will defeat yourself, dark one. Your woman is tied to me. When you strike me, she will feel the pain. Every slash, every cut, it will be the woman who bleeds, not just me. She will also feel your joy in the act. She will know you for what you are, and she will know your need to inflict pain and death. She will finally see you as the monster you really are. She will see you kill her father, see your joy in the act, and she will feel each blow."

Pain exploded in the region of Jacques' temples as he desperately tried to remember if what the vampire was saying could be so. Would Shea feel pain inflicted upon Rand? Was her father's blood in her veins sufficient to cause such a thing? He needed the answer immediately. Rand had him backed into a corner with this revelation.

Before Jacques could send off an inquiry and resolve the dilemma, the vampire launched himself, moving with supernatural speed, a blur of claws going for the jugular. Jacques leapt out of the way, felt the burn across his throat as the tips of Rand's nails caught him and opened a shallow cut.

Jacques retaliated without conscious thought, raking his own talons down the vampire's face.

Rand screamed with pain, a cry of fear and hatred. Jacques kept at him, whirling in and out of visibility, inflicting lacerations across the vampire's chest to drain him of his strength. He kept his mind firmly from Shea's. He could not think she was in danger, that this savage fight could somehow affect her. The joy in him increased until his mind and body were alive with power. The vampire fell back under his onslaught. With one last desperate attempt to turn the battle in his favor, Rand disappeared, fled to the tree line, calling on the sky to do his bidding.

A bolt of lightning slammed to earth, scorching the area close to Jacques' body, singeing the tips of his hair. A second bolt hit the precise spot where the Carpathian had been standing, but Jacques was already overhead, high in the trees above Rand. Wings beat the air strongly as he launched himself.

Rand screamed as the razor-sharp talons ripped into his chest, sought his pulsating heart. "Shea!

Hear me! Join with me! Save me now! I am your father! You must join with me to save me from this monster tearing insanely at my flesh!"

Jacques reached for the organ, tore it free, and flung it far from the vampire. "You are dead, vampire, and you go, I hope, to some semblance of peace. The crimes you have committed against me and my family are avenged. You go to meet your God and his mercy. I feel none toward you.

You would have taken her with you had you been able to do so. Carpathian justice has been dispensed."

Rand staggered forward, his gray face slack, tainted blood flowing freely. His mouth working convulsively, he fell to his knees. Jacques leapt back from the thrashing body, careful that the grasping claws did not touch him, that not one speck of the dark blood splattered on him. His hand was burning as he wiped it clean in the shriveling grass.

The air around them stilled, the wind completely silent. The earth seemed to groan. An eerie steam rose from the wriggling body, mixed with a noxious odor. Jacques instinctively moved farther away from the spectacle. Vampires died hard; all fought to overcome death with every trick they had. The tainted blood trickled across the ground toward Jacques' boots, guided by the dying vampire's last evil thoughts. Jacques watched without emotion as the vampire crawled toward him, inched his way closer and closer, his face twisted with depravity, with hatred.

Jacques shook his head. "You hated yourself, Rand. You hated yourself all these years. All of you had to do was find the courage to follow her. Maggie would have saved your soul."

Low, pitiful growls escaped from the hideous mouth, blood spewed forth, and Rand collapsed in front of Jacques, still reaching for him, still determined in his last moment to kill.

Jacques inhaled sharply, caught his first whiff of fresh, clean air, and knew the vampire had fully expired. With a little sigh he carried the bodies of the hunters to an open area and carefully collected what dry branches he could find. There could be no evidence left of this night. The vampire, too, had to be completely consumed by the fire so that there was no chance the tainted blood could find a way to revive him. The power of the vampire's blood was incredible.

Weakness was becoming an increasing concern for Jacques. The fight had used up his last energies, and he still had to create and maintain a huge conflagration in the midst of a rain-soaked forest.

The wolf howled again, this time much closer, obviously loping toward the scene of death and destruction, perhaps drawn by the smell of blood. Jacques scored the earth with a lightning bolt, directing it along the river of blood. No creature needed the madness of that fluid in its belly.

An unusually large, rare, golden wolf trotted out of the timberline, circled the area warily, and sat down on its haunches only feet from Jacques. It watched him steadily with its strange golden eyes, completely unafraid. It seemed not to be affected by the fire, the lightning, or the Carpathian male.

Jacques watched the animal equally intently, certain he was facing more than a wolf. The creature did not make an attempt to use the common mental path to communicate. It simply watched him, taking in the bizarre scene, the golden eyes never wavering.

A humorless smile curved Jacques' hard mouth. "If you are looking for action tonight, I am too tired to oblige you, and far too hungry."

The wolf's shape contorted, stretched, shimmered in the smoke of the fire, and soon a large, heavily muscled man was facing Jacques. His long, shaggy mane of hair was blond, his eyes golden, his body perfectly balanced. "You are Jacques, brother to Mikhail. I heard you were dead."

"That is the story going around," Jacques assented warily.

"You have no memory of me? I am Julian, brother to Aidan. I have been away these last long years.

The far-off mountains, the places without people, are my home."

"The last I heard, you were fighting wars in distant lands."

"When the mood is upon me, I fight where it is needed," Julian agreed. "I see you do also. The vampire lies dead, and you are pale beyond imagination."

Jacques' smile was grim. "Do not allow my color to fool you."

"I am no vampire yet, and if ever I fear turning, I will go to Aidan, and he will destroy me if I cannot do so myself. If you wish to take blood, then I offer it freely. The healer knows me; you can ask him if I am a reliable resource." There was the slightest of smiles, a self-mocking humor.

"What are you doing in these parts?" Jacques asked suspiciously.

"I was traveling through, on my way to the United States, when I heard the butchers were back, and I thought I would make myself useful to our people for a change."

Jacques found himself admiring Julian's answers. This was a man not in the least worried about anyone's opinion or impression of him. He was self-contained, at ease with himself. It didn't bother him at all that Jacques was suspicious, that he was firing questions at him.

Healer, hear me. I have need of blood, and this one before me, Julian, the golden twin, has said you will vouch for him.

No one can vouch for one such as Julian. He is a loner, a law unto himself, but his blood is untainted. If Julian turns, it will be Aidan or I who hunts him, no others. Avail yourself of what he offers.

"Did he give me a good recommendation?" Julian's smile was frankly sardonic.

"The healer never gives good recommendation. You are not his favorite, but he agrees there would be no harm."

Julian laughed softly, put his wrist to his mouth and bit, then casually reached out to offer his life- giving fluid to Jacques. "I am too much like him, a loner, one who studies too much. I dabble in things better left alone. I fear Gregori has given up on me." He didn't sound worried about it.

Jacques nearly staggered as he moved to take the proffered wrist. His mouth clamped tightly over the ragged wound. The blood flowed into Jacques' withered, shrunken cells. The surge of strength and power was incredible. He had not realized how depleted his system was until the nourishment flowed into his body. It was an effort not to be greedy, to feast at the rich supply.

"Do not worry, I have no duties to perform this night. Take what you need, and I will hunt in town before moving on." Julian made the offer casually.

Jacques forced himself away from the flowing supply. He closed the wound carefully and looked up at the handsome, weathered face. There was intelligence there, coolness, self-possession, and something else. Jacques could read the dangerous stillness in him. Julian was a man always ready for the unexpected.

"Thank you, Julian. If you ever have need, I expect to return the favor," Jacques said sincerely.

"I will finish up here," Julian offered. "It is a shame these three men had to die this night. When they do not return and no search party can find their remains, it will only feed the legends of vampires stalking this country and these parts."

"I should have expected Rand to use them against me; he knew I would keep them to feed."

Jacques regretted their deaths bitterly.

"You did not kill these men, the vampire did. And you rid the world of one of our monsters. Both humans and Carpathians are indebted to you. Think only of that, Jacques. I wish you good journey and long life."

"Good journey and long life to you, Julian," Jacques answered formally.

Chapter Eighteen

Jacques entered the maze of tunnels, his body moving with supernatural speed. He could hear every sound, the water dripping, then roaring, the high squeak of the bats, even the slight shifting of the earth itself. But he could not detect what he wished to hear most. There was no sound coming from the pools. No ripple of water, no humming, no soft breath from sleeping. No heart beating.

Shea was lying motionless on a rock when Jacques entered the steamy underground chamber. He stood very still in the entrance, afraid to move or speak. She had not responded to his telepathic call to her. If she were lost to him, the monster that was Rand would win after all. No one would ever be safe again until Jacques was destroyed. He shook his head. No, if she were dead, he would not leave her to face the unknown without him. Rand would not win. Jacques would follow her, find her. They would spend their life in the next world together.

He cleared his throat carefully, noisily, wanting her to turn to face him. She didn't move, her body utterly still. Jacques inhaled sharply and caught the faint scent of blood. He cleared the distance between them in a single leap, his speed so great, he was almost unable to stop before plunging headlong into the pool. As it was, he teetered precariously on the rim of the boulder before regaining his balance.

There was blood smeared on the rock beside Shea's naked body, a faint crimson ribbon over her breasts. Jacques cried out, dropped to his knees beside her, gathered her up to press her against his chest. Her heart was not beating. He could not feel a pulse or find a thread of life. "No!" He shouted it hoarsely, his voice echoing through the chamber eerily. The voice was lonely and lost, his heart ripped out, like Rand's.

Jacques? The voice was faint and far off but unmistakably Shea's.

Jacques held his breath for a moment, afraid he had truly lost his mind. "Shea?" He breathed her name, a whisper of silk like the feel of her hair on his body. That light. "Where are you, little love?

Come back to me."

Jacques pressed his forehead to hers, his hand over her heart. He felt the first strong beat in his palm, the first rush of blood through her veins and arteries. He captured her mouth with his to take the first breath from her lungs. His own heart could beat, his own lungs could work. He felt tears on his face and held her close.

"What happened to you out there?" she asked softly, clinging to him.

"The vampire and I fought," he said into her mass of red hair. He caught a strand on the tip of his tongue, ran it through his mouth, needing the feel of her close to him.

"I know. It was Rand. I felt you hit him. I could feel his hatred. It was terrible, like something alien in my body. When you struck, I could feel his pain. Right away I began to bleed. I knew he would use it against you somehow, so I tried to do what you said all Carpathians could do." She looked ruefully around her at the smears of blood. "It took a while to figure things out, but eventually I was able to put myself to sleep."

She took his breath away with her bravery. "Why did you not contact me?"

"I was afraid it would distract you, Jacques. I knew you were in a fight for your life. The last thing you needed to do was worry about me."

"You are still bleeding," he pointed out softly, holding her away from him so he could examine her.

"It doesn't really hurt all that much, now that you're back and safe," she assured him."I'm sorry it was your father. I know how much having a father, some member of your family, alive would have meant to you." He bent his head to the angry cut across her left breast. His tongue lapped at the wound gently, the healing properties in his saliva instantly closing the laceration.

Her skin, recently so cold and lifeless, was suddenly beginning to heat. Steam rose all around them, enfolding them in its embrace. "My family will have to be your family," he added softly. "We will make our own family."

Shea rubbed her face against his chest like a kitten, her mouth wandering up the column of his throat. "We have a strange family, Jacques, every one of them. I guess we'll have to be the sane ones."