Dark Prince (7 page)

Raven shook her head sadly. She was becoming such a recluse, not wanting to be close to anyone, not even a sweet older woman worried about her safety.

"Raven! Wait up!"

She closed her eyes against the intrusion. By the time Jacob caught up with her, she managed to plaster a smile on her face. "Jacob, I'm glad you recovered from that terrible choking spell last night. It was lucky the waiter knew the Heimlich maneuver."

Jacob scowled. "I didn't choke on a piece of meat," he said defensively, as if she was accusing him of bad table manners. "Everyone thinks so, but it wasn't that."

"Really? The way the waiter grabbed you…" Her voice trailed off.

"Well, you didn't stick around long enough to find out," he accused sulkily, his brows drawing together. "You just let that… that Neanderthal carry you off."

"Jacob," she said gently, "you don't know me; you know nothing about me or my life. For all you know, that man could be my husband. I was very ill last night. I'm sorry I didn't stay, but once I could see you were fine, I didn't think it would be appropriate to throw up all over the dining room."

"How do you know that man?" Jacob demanded jealously. "The locals say he's the most powerful man in this region. He's wealthy, owns all the petroleum rights. Quite the businessman; very high-powered. How would you meet a man like that?"

He was crowding close to her, and Raven was suddenly all too aware of how alone they were, how secluded their surroundings. He had a spoiled, petulant look twisting his boyish good looks. She sensed something else—a kind of sick excitement in his guilty thoughts. She knew she was a big part of his perverse fantasies. Jacob was a rich boy thinking he could have any new toy he wanted.

Raven felt a stirring in her mind.
Raven? You fear for your safety.
Mikhail was heavy with sleep, fighting his way up through the layers to the surface.

Now she was worried. Mikhail was a question mark in her mind. She didn't know what he would do, only that he felt protective toward her. For herself, for Mikhail, for Jacob, she needed to make Jacob understand that she wanted no part of him.
I can handle this,
she sent a sharp reassurance. "Jacob," her voice was patient, "I think you should leave; go back to the inn. I'm not the kind of woman to be bullied by your attitude. This is harassment, and I'll have no compunction about registering a complaint with the local police, or whatever they're called." She held her breath, feeling Mikhail waiting.

"Fine, Raven, sell yourself to the highest bidder! Try to find yourself a rich husband! He'll use you and dump you; that's what men like Dubrinsky do!" Jacob shouted. He spat out a few additional ugly words and stomped away.

Raven let out her breath slowly, thankfully.
See,
she forced laughter into her thoughts.
I took care of the problem all by my little feminine self. Amazing, isn't it?

From the other side of a grove of trees, out of her sight, Jacob suddenly screamed in terror, the sound fading to a thin wail. The roar of an enraged bear mingled with Jacob's second scream. Something heavy crashed through the underbrush in the opposite direction of Raven.

She felt Mikhail's laughter, low, amused, very male.
Very funny, Mikhail.
Jacob was broadcasting fear, but not pain.
You have a questionable sense of humor.

I need sleep. Quit getting into trouble, woman.

If you wouldn't stay up all night, you might not need to sleep the day away,
she reprimanded.
How do you get work done?

Computers.

She found herself laughing at the thought of him with a computer. He didn't belong with cars or computers.
Go back to sleep, you big baby. I can handle things just fine, thank you very much, without any great big he-man to protect me.

I would much prefer that you return to the safety of the inn until I rise.
There was the merest hint of command in his voice. He was trying to soften his manner with her and she found herself smiling at his efforts.

It isn't going to happen, so learn to live with it.

American women are very difficult.

She continued on her way up the mountain, his laughter still playing softly in her head. She allowed the stillness of nature to seep into her mind. The birds sang to one another softly; the wind whispered through the trees. There were flowers of all colors carpeting the meadow, lifting their petals to the sky.

Raven climbed higher finding peace in her solitude. She perched on a craggy boulder up above a meadow surrounded by forests of thick trees. She ate her lunch and lay back, reveling in her surroundings.

Mikhail stirred, allowing his senses to read his environment. He lay in shallow earth, undisturbed. No human had come near his lair. It was less than an hour to sunset. He burst from the earth into the cold, damp cellar. Even as he showered, adopting the human way to cleanliness, although it wasn't necessary, his mind reached out to touch Raven's. She was dozing in the mountains, unprotected, with the darkness gathering. He frowned. The woman had no idea of safety measures. He had an urge to shake her, yet more than that, he wanted to gather her up and hold her forever safe in his arms.

He made his way out into the setting sun, climbing the mountain trails with the speed of his kind. The sun touched his skin, warmed his coolness, made him alive. The specially constructed dark glasses protected his ultrasensitive eyes, yet he still felt a pinprick of unease, as if a thousand needles were waiting to stab at his eyes. As he approached the rock where Raven slept, he caught the scent of another male.

Rand.
Mikhail bared his teeth. The sun dipped low beneath the edge of the mountain, cast a dark shadow across the rolling hills, and bathed the forest in murky secrets. Mikhail moved out into the open, his arms held out from his sides, his body a fluid combination of power and coordination. He was pure menace, a stalking demon, silent and lethal.

Rand had his back to him, approaching the woman on the rock. Sensing the power in the air, he spun around, his handsome features grief-stricken and ravaged. "Mikhail—" His voice cracked, his eyes dropped. "I know you can never forgive me. You knew I was not a true lifemate to Noelle. She would not let me go. She threatened to kill herself if I left her, if I attempted to find another. Like a coward, I remained with her."

"Why do I find you crouched over my woman?" Mikhail snarled, fury rising until the bloodlust coiled in him like a living thing. Rand's excuses sickened him, true though they might be. If Noelle had threatened to walk into the sun, the matter should have been brought before him. Mikhail had power enough to stop Noelle from her destructive behavior. Rand well knew that Mikhail was their prince, their leader, and, although he had not shared blood with Rand, he still could read the male's perverse pleasure in his sick relationship with Noelle, his dominance over her and her obsession.

Behind them, Raven stirred, sat up, shoved at her hair from long habit. She looked drowsy, sexy, a siren waiting for her lover. Rand had turned his head to look at her, and there was something sly and crafty in his expression. She felt Mikhail's instant warning to be silent, Rand's unrestrained grief, his jealousy and dislike of Mikhail, the thick tension between the two men.

"Byron and Jacques told me she was under your protection. I could not sleep and knew she was alone without safeguards. I had to do something or I would have chosen to join Noelle." There was a plea for understanding, if not for forgiveness, yet Raven was unconvinced that Rand meant anything he said. She didn't know why because his sorrow was real. Perhaps he was desperate for Mikhail's respect and knew he would not get it.

"Then I am in your debt," Mikhail said formally, working at controlling his loathing of a man who would leave unprotected a woman who had just given birth to his child to deliberately torment her with another woman's scent on him.

Raven slid from her perch, a small, fragile woman with compassion in her enormous blue eyes. "I'm truly sorry for your loss," she murmured softly, careful to keep her distance. This man was the murder victim's husband. His guilt and grief crawled through her body with torturous intent, yet she worried for Mikhail. Something was not right with Rand. He was twisted inside; not evil, yet not completely right.

"Thank you," Rand said tersely. "I need my child, Mikhail."

"You need the healing earth," Mikhail disagreed calmly, implacable in his decision, merciless in his resolve. He would not turn over a precious, helpless baby to this male in his present state of mind.

Raven's stomach knotted, twisted, and pain went through her heart at the cruelty in those words. She only partially understood what Mikhail's decree meant. This man, grieving for his murdered wife, was being deprived of his child, accepting Mikhail's word as absolute law. She felt his deep pain as if it were her own, yet on some level she couldn't help agreeing with Mikhail's decision.

"Please, Mikhail. I loved Noelle." Instinctively, Raven knew Rand was not pleading for his child.

Fury lent darkness to Mikhail's features, cruelty to his mouth, a red glint to his eyes. "Do not speak of love to me, Rand. Go to the earth; heal. I will find this assassin and avenge my sister. No longer will I be swayed by sentiment. If I had not listened to her pleading, she would be alive today."

"I cannot sleep. It is my right to hunt." Rand sounded defiant, sulky, like a child who wanted respect and equality, yet knew it would never come.

A flicker of impatience, of menace, crossed Mikhail's brooding features. "Then I will command you and give you the healing rest your body and mind require." His voice was as soft and neutral as ever. If it hadn't been for the fury burning in his black eyes, Raven would have thought him gentle and caring toward the man. "We cannot afford to lose you, Rand." His voice softened to velvet, enticed, commanded.
You will sleep, Rand. You will go to Eric and have him prepare you, guard you. You will remain until you are no longer a threat to yourself or others.

Raven was shocked and alarmed at the absolute power in his voice, the power he wielded as if it was his due. Mikhail's voice alone could produce a hypnotic trance. No one questioned his authority, even over so grave a decision as keeping a child. She bit at her lip, confused over her feelings. He was right about the baby. She sensed something wrong in Rand, yet that a grown man would obey his order—
had
to obey his orders—frightened her. No one should have such a voice, such a gift. Something so strong could be misused, could easily corrupt the one who wielded it.

They stood, regarding each other in the gathering darkness once Rand left them. Raven could feel the weight of Mikhail's displeasure pressing down on her. She lifted her chin defiantly. He moved closer, gliding unbelievably fast, his fingers finding her throat as if he might strangle her. "You will never repeat this foolhardy act again."

She blinked up at him. "Don't try to intimidate me, Mikhail; it won't work. No one tells me what to do or where I can go."

His fingers slipped to her wrists, tightened, threatened to crush her fragile bones. "I will not tolerate any foolishness that might put your life in jeopardy. We have lost one of our women already. I will not lose you."

His sister, he had said. Compassion warred with self-preservation. Most of this confrontation was because he was so afraid for her. "Mikhail, you can't put me in a box and keep me on a shelf." She spoke as gently as she could.

"I will not argue over your safety. Earlier, you were alone with a man who thought of forcibly taking you. Any wild animal could have attacked you, and if you had not been under my protection, in his present state, Rand might have harmed you."

"None of those things happened, Mikhail." She touched his jaw with gentle, placating fingers, a tender caress. "You have enough to worry about, enough responsibilities, without adding me to them. I can help you. You know I'm capable."

He tugged at her wrist so that she lost her balance and fell against his hard strength. "You are going to make me crazy, Raven." His arms came up, pinning her soft slenderness against him. His voice dropped to a drawling caress, mesmerizing, pure black magic. "You are the one person I long to protect, yet you will not obey. You insist on independence. All others lean on my strength, yet you seek to help me, to shoulder my duties." He lowered his mouth to hers.

There was that curious shifting of the ground beneath her feet, the crackle of electricity in the air around them. Flames licked over her skin, heated her blood. Colors whirled and danced in her head. His mouth claimed hers, aggressive, male, totally dominating, sweeping all thoughts of resistance aside. She opened her mouth to him, allowed his probing exploration, his sweet, hot assault.

Her hands found the broadness of his shoulders, crept up to circle his neck. Her body felt pliant, boneless, like hot silk. Mikhail wanted to press her to the soft ground, tear the offending clothes from her body, and make her irrevocably his. There was far too much innocence in the taste of her. No one had asked to share the weight of his countless burdens. No one, until this little slender slip of a mortal, had even thought of the price he continually paid. A human. She had the courage to stand up to him and he could do no other than respect her for it.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feel of her body against his, the fact that he could want her with such intensity. He held her, wanting her, needing her, burning for her, not even understanding how such a firestorm could consume him. Reluctantly he lifted his head, his body raging at him. "Let us go home, Raven." His voice was pure seduction.

A slow smile curved her soft mouth. "I don't think it's safe. You're the kind of man my mother warned me about."

He kept his arm possessively around her shoulders, shackling her to him. Mikhail had no intention of allowing her to leave his side again. His body urged her in the direction he wanted. They walked together in companionable silence.