Blood Possession (37 page)

“Do you?” Kagen asked again.

Marquis waved his good hand in a dismissive gesture. “No.”

Kagen wasn’t convinced. “Brother, I have to know if—”

“
No
.” Marquis’s eyes met Kagen’s in an apologetic stare. They were pained with frustration and ripe with regret. “I should have never said that.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another. “If anything, I blame myself.” He let out a deep breath. “Hell, Kagen. I just want to kill someone. But not you—never you.”

Nathaniel seemed to relax a bit. He took his seat and stared at the quiet body lying so peacefully on the bed. “What the fuck went wrong?” The question was rhetorical.

Kagen returned to Nachari’s side. He sat down on the bed, reached for his wrist, and began to take his pulse…again.
He had to do something.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is…it’s really, really wrong. He looks so serene, but he’s not at peace.”

“Do you think the dark lord somehow…got him?” Marquis asked, his voice betraying his dread.

Nathaniel whistled low beneath his breath and shuddered. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it, but did you guys see Napolean’s face Friday night?”

They both nodded.

“He felt something. He sensed something—I’m sure of it. And whatever it was, it was too awful to speak of.”

Kagen recorded Nachari’s pulse on his chart, wondering why the hell he was bothering with such useless and redundant behaviors: Had he totally lost his grip on reality?

Marquis pumped his fist, testing his broken fingers. “Someone has to go after him.”

“Go after him?” Nathaniel asked.

“Yeah,” Marquis answered, “follow him into the spirit world. Maybe if you or I took Niko or Jankiel with us—”

“Nachari might be a wizard,” Nathaniel interrupted, “but he’s one of the strongest fighters I know—a true warrior in his own right. Whatever happened, if he could have fought his way out of it, he would have.”

Marquis grumbled. “He is not my equal, Nathaniel. Nor yours.”

Nathaniel shook his head. “You’re going to die, too, brother?”

Marquis shrugged. “If that’s what it takes.”

Nathaniel smiled then, although the light never reached his eyes. He gestured toward the door. “Your wife is right outside that door, Marquis, and your son is home with his nursemaid. Would you leave Ciopori without a mate? Would you allow Nikolai to grow up like Nachari and Shelby did—without a father to teach him?”

Marquis threw his hands up and sighed. “Then what are we going to do?”

Nathaniel frowned and looked away. He grasped Nachari’s hand and clutched it in a grip that was probably too tight, but Kagen wasn’t about to say anything. “Where are you, brother?” Nathaniel whispered. “It’s time to come back.”

Kagen scrubbed a hand over his face. He had to get the hell out of there—he was coming apart.

Time to come back?

It was way past time to come back!

It had been four days now, and while Kagen was working overtime to keep oxygen flowing to Nachari’s brain, to force his lungs to expand and contract with air, he still knew the truth of the matter: Technology—and technology, alone—was all that was keeping Nachari…viable. He wasn’t alive. His spirit no longer inhabited his body. And the moment his family stopped forcing the issue, they would have to face the inevitable.

“Damnit!” Kagen shouted, jumping up and heading for the door. “I’ve got to get some air.” He tried to ignore the stunned faces of his brothers as he reached for the doorknob. It would be the first time since Nachari…had left his body…that Kagen had left Nachari’s side. And his outburst was certain to betray a deeper truth: As Nachari’s brother—and his doctor—Kagen was losing hope. “I’ll send Katia in behind me,” he murmured, trying to salvage their confidence. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes.” One glance at his brothers’ faces told him he had failed: Nathaniel’s skin was pale, and Marquis’s eyes were stricken with horror.

Neither brother responded.

Pretending not to notice, Kagen sauntered out the door.

To hell with it!

He was grateful to be out of the stifling room.

Unfortunately, the moment he stepped across the threshold, a new set of challenges awaited him in the receiving area: His brothers’ mates, Jocelyn and Ciopori, immediately rose to their feet; and Nachari’s young protégé, Braden Bratianu, who was curled up in a chair in the corner all by himself, looked up at him through bloodshot eyes.

No one spoke a word, but their fear was palpable.

“Nothing’s changed,” Kagen said in a rush. “Nachari is still…stable. I just need some air.”

Jocelyn shot a sideways glance at Ciopori, and he knew that the females were interpreting his behavior the same way as his brothers had…

Hell and damnation
, he did not want the women to lose hope.

He did not want Braden to lose hope.

He was running a hundred miles an hour to stay ahead of his own fears so that
he
didn’t lose hope.

But
gods
, he was tired. The situation was untenable, yet he couldn’t give up.

Nachari couldn’t leave them.

Not now. Not so soon after Shelby. Not ever! He would keep his body breathing for a hundred years if he had to—

For the sake of Auriga
, what was wrong with him? He was seriously messed up.

“Healer?” Ciopori’s lyrical voice swept over him in a soothing caress as she took several steps forward and gently laid her hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, eyeing the clinic’s front door. He had to get out of there. Now.

“Brother,” she said more firmly, “look at me.” Her soft golden eyes sparkled with an unearthly amber light. “Let me see you, Kagen.” She sent a healing wave of energy so powerful into his body that it almost shook him where he stood, and he was unable to disengage from her spell. All at once, her subtle gaze became penetrating, and a deep, unspoken truth passed between them: Ciopori saw the extent of Kagen’s fear—the depth of his hopelessness—and she closed her eyes, breaking the connection.

Does Marquis realize?
she asked on a private telepathic line, no doubt wanting to shield Braden from their conversation.

Kagen felt a strange, stinging sensation in his eyes and wondered what it was—surely, not tears? He stilled his body and forced himself to breathe evenly—draw a slow breath in, let a deep breath out—careful to contain his volatile emotions.
Realize what, sister?
he asked, biting his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood.
There is nothing to realize. Nachari is coming back, and that is all.

Kagen,
Ciopori whispered compassionately in his mind,
it’s okay if—

I said,
That is all
.

He leveled a harsh, unyielding glare at her, and then he turned toward the tall, slender nurse standing quietly in the corner. “I’ll be back shortly, Katia.” He spoke in an eerily quiet voice and motioned her inside the room with his head. “Stay with Nachari until I return.” Gently removing Ciopori’s hand from his shoulder, he regarded her one last time with a cordial nod. “I’ll see you later, sister,” he said.

And then he walked briskly out the front door.

Jocelyn Silivasi watched the brief interplay between Ciopori and Kagen with a heavy heart. “Oh, God,” she murmured as Ciopori sat back down.

Ciopori nodded. “Indeed.”

“They’re all coming completely apart?” She phrased it as a question, but she already knew the answer. Nathaniel had been a bastion of strength, but even he was certain to unravel soon if Nachari didn’t—

“What?” Braden asked in a timid voice. “What is it? What isn’t Kagen telling us?”

Ciopori drew her shoulders back like the regal princess she was. She raised her chin in a gesture of utter confidence. “Nothing at all, Braden.” Damn, she was good. “Kagen just needed some air. Nachari is fine.”

The boy nestled deeper into the huge leather chair. He sniffled and quickly turned his head away, not wanting the females to see that he had been crying—as if anyone had missed that fact. In an effort to play along, Jocelyn glanced around the waiting room, pretending she hadn’t noticed the tearstained tracks on his cheeks.

As she eyed their surroundings with clinical interest, she observed that the normally warm, welcoming space seemed somehow cold all of a sudden. Sure, the pliant leather armchairs still sat in perfect, peaceful arrangements—cozy with their matching ottomans on a slate-stone floor, rich in rustic textures, and soft with muted earth tones—but their welcome was as muted as their color. And yes, sparse but tasteful art still hung within expensive frames in perfect increments on the clinic walls—displaying scenic pictures of snowcapped mountains, forest trails, and rushing waterfalls—but their once-tranquil appeal was noticeably absent. A non-obtrusive, flat-screen TV, an inviting beverage table, and a guest computer station were still arranged in perfect order; but there was no order to their lives anymore. Her new family was in a freefall of uncertainty, and if Nachari didn’t recover, they might not ever know peace again.

Feeling restless and fidgety, Jocelyn glanced once again at Braden: He had finally managed to restrain his tears. She sighed, knowing that Braden’s effort was also Ciopori’s burden. Her sister-in-law, as it were, had been gathering and shielding Braden’s energy for days. Although the boy was still young—and his powers were by and large untapped—Braden possessed some incredible spiritual gifts, and his attachment to Nachari was…elemental, for lack of a better word. Even inside the fortified clinic, Braden’s chaotic, unchecked emotions had the ability to cause great havoc on the land around them, and that was why Ciopori was keeping such a close eye on him.

It was also why both she and Ciopori had chosen to leave their infants at home with their nursemaids: Emotion was simply too high—too raw—there were too many unknown variables playing out in real time. If young Braden, with all of his power—or hell, even one of the Ancients—actually lost it, the women didn’t want the added concern of protecting their children from the fallout. Not that their mates would ever hurt them, but the Vampyr were intrinsically connected to the earth, and Jocelyn had seen firsthand what too much raw emotion could do.

Dismissing the thought, she stood and headed toward the refreshment center. Despite being converted nearly two months ago, she still enjoyed an occasional indulgence—she might as well make herself another cup of coffee. She glanced at Ciopori. “Are you worried about Marquis?”

Ciopori nodded almost indiscernibly. “The noise we heard. I felt a surge in Marquis’s energy; I am certain he hurt someone or something…most likely himself.”

Jocelyn sighed. “It’s hard…not to go in there right now.”

“It is,” Ciopori agreed, “but I fear that if they do not come together in this difficult time—find a way to draw strength from one another—those bonds will be severely injured.”

Jocelyn shook her head. “I don’t know. I’ve never known any family that loved each other more.”

Ciopori brushed a piece of lint off her blouse. “It isn’t a matter of love; it is a matter of pain tolerance…grief tolerance. This is more than any one of them can bear alone. Perhaps more than they can bear together.”

Jocelyn couldn’t stand it another second.

She had to reach out to Nathaniel.

Baby,
she whispered soothingly on their private telepathic bandwidth,
how are you holding up?

Nathaniel sighed—a deep, slow, exasperated exhale.
Ah, tiger-eyes; this is…so hard.

Jocelyn swallowed a lump in her throat.
I know. Kagen is a mess. How is Marquis?

He broke his hand against the wall, and he hasn’t even thought to heal it yet.

Jocelyn clenched her eyes shut.
Oh God, do you need me to come in there?

Nathaniel chuckled, a laugh absent of joy.
Always,
Iubita mea.
I need you…always. But give us a little more time. When Kagen returns, we are going to talk…perhaps pray.

Even though Nathaniel couldn’t see her, Jocelyn nodded instinctively.

Angel?
he said.

I’m here,
she assured him.
Just outside the door. I love you, Nathaniel.

Mmm,
he purred, and the sound was like soft velvet caressing her ears
. And I, you, angel.

Just then, the clinic doors flew open and a red-headed whirlwind in three-inch heels stormed through the entrance. “Hey, Joss. Hey, C. What the hell is up with Kagen?” Kristina Riley-Silivasi stood in the doorway in a short pink miniskirt and matching pumps, her Corvette keys still dangling in her hands. “Is Nachari okay?”

Kristina was the de facto sister of the Silivasi brothers after having been mated to Marquis for less than a week in what could only be described as an utter disaster: The Dark Ones had used black magic to gain the assistance of the dark lord Ocard in reversing the Blood Curse in order to fool Marquis—basically, they had switched Kristina and Ciopori, leading Marquis to believe that the wild redhead was his
destiny.
Luckily, Nachari had figured it out before Marquis and Kristina had consummated the union—before she had become pregnant with his twins—and they were able to reverse it in time. Unfortunately, Marquis had already converted her, unknowingly, under the protection of the dark lord, and she had become a full-fledged vampire: It had been too late for Kristina to go back to her human life, although, truth be told, it hadn’t been the greatest life to begin with.