Выбери любимый жанр

Dark Prince - Feehan Christine - Страница 41


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта:

41

He raised his hand above her and Raven caught the glint of shiny metal. Jacob stabbed down, his face a mask of fury and hate. Pain sliced low and wicked through her abdomen; blood gushed warm. Jacob pulled the dripping knife from her flesh and raised it again.

Chapter Nine

The earth rumbled, shook, rolled. Jacob’s knife buried deep a second time. The wind unleashed its deadly power, sent leaves, twigs, and small branches flying through the air like missiles. The knife bit a third time. Lightning sizzled once, twice, three times, slammed into the earth as thunder cracked, shaking the land with the unholy sound. The knife found her a fourth time. The heavens opened up and rain poured down hard and fast, as if floodgates had burst.

Jacob was covered in blood. He pushed away from her, turning his head as the sky grew darker. He could hear the others screaming in fear. “Damn you.” He sliced down a fifth time in fury and defiance.

An unseen hand caught his wrist before the blade could find her, fingers curling hard in an unbreakable grip. The knife turned inward toward Jacob’s throat, and for one long, eternal moment, he stared in horror at the bloodied blade as it inched toward his flesh. It struck suddenly, burying itself to the hilt.

Wolves boiled out of the forest, circled the meadow, glowing eyes fixed on the three people dodging branches that were hurtling through the air. Margaret screamed and ran. Harry took off blindly and Hans lost his footing and dropped to his knees as the earth heaved and shook again.

“Raven.” Mikhail materialized beside her, fear for her clawing at his guts. He ripped the jeans away so he could see the extent of her injuries.

The earth rolled again, split the meadow open. Mikhail clamped his hands over the pumping holes in an attempt to stem the terrible flow of blood. Jacques shimmered into view, then Eric, Byron. Tienn arrived, and Vlad.

Gregori blasted out of the sky toward the three human assassins surrounded by the wolf pack. There on the meadow, with the world coming to an end, he took the shape of a huge, black wolf, a wolf with the hungry, mad eyes of retribution.

“My God.” Jacques was on his knees beside Mikhail, gathering handfuls of rich soil. “Go, Byron, for the herbs. Hurry!”

Within minutes they had packed Raven’s wounds with their poultices. Mikhail ignored them, cradling Raven in his arms, his large body bent protectively to shield her from the onslaught of the pounding rain.

Mikhail’s entire being was concentrated, focused on only one thing. You will not leave me,he commanded. I will not release you.Lightning sizzled, whipped across the sky, slammed into the earth. On its heels thunder boomed, shook the mountains.

“Jacques! Eleanor is going to give birth.” Vlad was desperate.

“Get her into the house. Call Celeste and Dierdre.” Jacques toed Jacob’s body contemptuously as he added his large frame as a shelter over Raven.

“She is not dead,” Mikhail hissed, seeing the compassion in his brother’s eyes. “She is dying, Mikhail.” Jacques’s chest hurt with the knowledge.

Mikhail dragged her to him, bent his head until his cheek lay against hers. Iknow you can hear me; you must drink, Raven. Drink deeply.

He felt the faint stirring in his mind. Warmth, regret. So much pain. Letme go.

No! Never! Do not talk. Just drink. For me, if you love me, for me, for my life, drink what I offer.Before Jacques could guess his intent and try to stop him, Mikhail jabbed deeply into his own jugular.

Dark blood spurted. Mikhail forced her to him, used every power he possessed to force compliance. Her will obeyed; her body was almost too weak to follow. She swallowed what poured into her but could not draw deeply on her own.

Bolt after bolt of lightning slammed to earth. A tree exploded, rained fiery sparks. The earth heaved again, rolled, came apart at the seams. Gregori loomed over them, the darkest of the Carpathians, his pale eyes ice cold and holding the stark promise of death.

“The wolves did their job,” Eric reported grimly. “The lightning and earthquakes will do the rest.”

Jacques ignored him, gripping Mikhail’s shoulder. “Enough, Mikhail. You grow too weak. She has lost too much blood. She has internal injuries.”

Black rage filled Mikhail. He threw back his head and roared his denial, the sound exploding through the forest and mountains like the booming of the thunder. Trees burst into flames around them, exploding like sticks of dynamite.

“Mikhail.” Jacques refused to relinquish his hold. “Stop her now.”

“She has my blood; it will heal her. If we can keep blood in her, get her into the soil and perform the healing ritual, then she will live.”

“Enough, damn it!” Jacques voice held very real fear.

Gregori touched Mikhail gently. “If you die, my old friend, we have no chance of saving her. We must work together if we are to do this thing.”

Raven’s head lolled back, her body limp like a rag doll. Mikhail’s blood ran unchecked down his chest. Jacques leaned into his brother, but Gregori was there before him, closing the gaping wound with a single stroke of his tongue.

Mikhail was nearly oblivious to his surroundings, he was directing his entire being, his entire disciplined focus on Raven. She was slipping away from him, fading slowly but surely. Her heart beat erratically, one beat, a miss, a single beat. There was an ominous, eerie silence.

Swearing, Mikhail laid her flat, physically breathed for her, manually stimulated her heart. His mind sought the trail of hers, found a small, huddled light, dim and fading. She floated on a sea of pain. She was weak beyond his imaginings. Breathe, massage. Call her back, reinforce it with an order. Repeat the process.

A torrent of water raced down the rocky canyon behind them, a solid wall gathering speed and force. The ground shook again. Two trees exploded into fiery conflagrations despite the heavy rains.

“Let us help,” Gregori ordered softly.

Jacques moved his brother gently aside, took over CPR while Gregori breathed for Raven. In and out, Gregori filled her lungs with precious air. Jacques forced her heart to continue. It left Mikhail free to concentrate on his mental quest. A stirring in his mind, the lightest of touches, but he knew it was her and he locked onto that trace and followed it ruthlessly. You will not leave me.

She tried to move away from him, up and away. There was too much pain in the direction in which he called her.

Panicked, Mikhail screamed her name. You cannot leave me, Raven. I cannot survive without you. Come back to me, come back to me, or I follow you where you lead.

“I have a pulse,” Jacques said. “It is weak, but it is there. We need transport.”

There was a shimmering in the gathering darkness. Tienn appeared beside them. “Eleanor has given birth, and the child lives,” he announced. “It is a male.”

Mikhail let out his breath in a long, slow hiss. “She betrayed Raven.”

Jacques shook his head in warning when Eric would have spoken, would have tried to defend the woman. Mikhail was in a killing rage. The slightest mistake might provoke him. Mikhail’s fury was triggering the turbulent weather, the raging storm and heaving earth.

Mikhail sank back into his mind, holding Raven to him, taking as much of her pain as he could. The trip home was a blur to him, the rain pelting the windshield, lightning sizzling and snapping. The village was deserted and dark, the electricity out in the terrible ferocity of the storm. Inside their houses, people were huddled and praying, hoping to live through the ferocious storm, not understanding their very lives could depend on one small human woman’s courage and tenacity.

Raven’s body, so limp and lifeless, was stripped of her bloodstained clothing and placed on Mikhail’s bed. Healing herbs were crushed, some lit. The poultices were replaced with newer, stronger ones to try to stem further blood loss. Mikhail touched the dark bruises on her face with trembling fingers, the dark marks that stood out starkly against her full white breasts where Jacob had deliberately hurt her in his jealous, drugged rage. Fury seized Mikhail and he longed to crush Jacob’s throat beneath his hands. “She needs blood,” he said abruptly.

41

Вы читаете книгу


Feehan Christine - Dark Prince Dark Prince
Мир литературы

Жанры

Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

Юмор

Дом и семья

Деловая литература

Жанр не определен

Техника

Прочее

Драматургия

Фольклор

Военное дело