Andre had never seen such pain on a man's face. Ion lay under a mountain of stones and they were clearly crushing him. Andre rushed toward him, but Ion shook his head, at least he tried to, his eyes frantic. He opened his mouth as if to try to warn him, but there was no sound, only deep red blood bubbling out.
Teagan's stomach lurched. She could see clearly that Ion was suffering terribly. The massive pile of stones heaped over Euard and Elena's father was enormous and the stones were huge. The blood coming from his mouth clearly meant it was far too late to save him, but the shocked boy racing out of the tree line to drop to his knees beside his friend clearly hadn't comprehended that yet.
Andre waved his hands, trying to move the stones. How they had gotten on Ion there in the forest was a mystery, but he had to move them before they crushed Ion to death. He was only just learning to control levitation. He had been moving small objects since he was a toddler, but nothing of this magnitude.
Ion turned his head one last time, drawing Andre's attention back to him. The boy froze. Ion's neck was torn and bloody. Comprehension dawned, and with it, fear. The undead had done this. He knew then, that Ion was already dead. There was no hope for him, but the others . . . Dorina. Euard. Elena. Sweet little Elena.
Ion made a sound, a rattling in his throat. A gasp. His eyes were frantic. Andre recognized the warning. Ion was trying to save him. He wanted Andre to run. He didn't understand Andre had nothing--no one--to run to. Everyone he had was right there.
Andre brushed a kiss over Ion's forehead, then was up and running around to the back of the hut. As he ran, he reached for his father on the private telepathic path that connected them. He found only a dark void. His stomach lurched. His father hadn't waited for the dawn. He was already gone and he'd taken Andre's mother with him.
The terrible weight in his chest grew as he rounded the corner, his mind reaching for the common Carpathian telepathic link they all had. He called for help as he ran, knowing it was too late, but if a hunter came, this family would be avenged. He had no experience. He was considered a child in Carpathian years and he had no formal training and lacked the skills and power needed to face a full-fledged vampire, but it didn't matter to him. This was his family and he would save it if he could.
Teagan wanted to scream at the boy Andre to stop. Dread filled her. Filled him. He skidded to halt when he rounded the corner of the hut. Euard was writhing, pinned to the back of the house by four stakes. Two through his shoulders and two lower, down near his ribs. Blood flowed freely from the holes the stakes made. His feet were off the ground and his body weight pulled against the stakes, making every move sheer agony.
Bile rose in Teagan's throat. She was far too sensitive to see and feel this, but she refused to pull out of his head. Andre had faced this and she would, too. She recognized the pattern of the stakes. Two at the shoulders. Two at the ribs. Those, round circular scars so prominent on Andre's body.
A monster stood over Elena, his bony fingers wrapped around her throat. He was large and powerful looking. His hair was in mats and hung dank and dirty around him, flowing down his back like a rat's tail. His turned his head slowly toward Andre. Blood was smeared over his face and dripped down his chin. His lips and teeth were stained red. His fingers tightened around Elena's throat, one talon digging into her neck so that small ruby red beads flowed down her skin.
"Ciprian." Andre breathed his name.
His uncle. His mother's only brother. He had disappeared when Andre was seven or eight and yet now he had returned. Why? He was vampire. The undead. He had chosen to give up his soul to feel the rush of the adrenaline-based blood of a kill.
"The little ghost. Come join me. Feast, my boy."
The vampire was high. The fear-based blood rushed through his system. His eyes burned red and hideous. His mouth stretched into a parody of a smile. He continued to force Elena's head forward. To Andre's horror, he realized Ciprian was insisting Elena drink her brother's blood.
Her wide, shocked eyes leapt to Andre. He saw the terror there. The shame. The humiliation. Her eyes darted to the side and Andre followed her gaze. His heart stopped beating in his chest. His breath stilled in his lungs. Dorina, beautiful, vibrant Dorina, so full of love and laughter, so generous, lay like a broken doll on the ground, flung away from the undead after he'd tortured her, and taken her blood.
She wasn't dead. Ciprian hadn't even given her that final mercy. She lay dying, her last sight that of the vampire forcing her beloved youngest child to drink the blood of her son as he suffered, staked to the wall.
"You brought me here, boy. I followed your scent right to them." Ciprian threw back his head and laughed, the sound more of a shriek. Ciprian who, like his sister, had looked right through Andre when he was a boy, now wanted him to feel guilt.
Teagan gasped. The blow to Andre was so gruesome, so brutal, Teagan knew she was going to vomit. She tore herself out of Andre's arms, leapt off his lap and raced for the next chamber. She wasn't going to throw up in front of him. How had he survived such a thing? How? Tears blinded her and she nearly ran into the walls of the cave. She went to her knees, gagging and wretching up bile.
How? It wasn't possible to survive something like that. Not whole. Not intact. She wanted to scream and throw things. She wanted to wrap her arms around Andre and keep him safe. She wanted this terrible, hideous memory wiped from him for all time, but she knew--she absolutely knew--that wasn't going to happen.
"Teagan."
Her heart fluttered. Melted. She knelt on the floor, the back of her hand pressed tight against her mouth, desperate to stop what she couldn't stop. It wasn't over. She had to know everything. He would want to stop. She already felt it in her mind, but there were those four scars on him, when even a vampire punching a hole in his chest didn't scar him. Those scars had come from somewhere, just as the ones in his mind did.
"I'm all right, Andre. Just give me a minute. I need my toothbrush. And water. I need water to rinse out my mouth." She didn't look at him. She didn't want to see compassion on his face. Not for her. Not after what had happened to him. Not when the wound was still so bloody and raw.
"I should never have exposed you to such brutality. You are far too sensitive, csitri. I can remove the memory from your mind."
The gentleness, the sweetness in his voice, brought a choking lump to her throat. How had he become such a beautiful man when he'd gone through so much? He should be damaged beyond fixing, and yet he was so careful with her.
"Don't. I don't want you to erase anything from my mind, Andre," she protested. "As long as you remember this, I will remember it, too. And I want all of it. Not just this part. As soon as my teeth are brushed, you give me the rest."
His hands spanned her waist and he lifted her onto her feet. "No."
She turned in his arms, caught the front of his shirt in her fist and gave the material a little shake. "You don't get to say no to me. Not over something this important. If you mean what you said, and I'm your lifemate or whatever you said in your language, then you don't get to say no to me. This is important to both of us, not just you."
He touched her face gently, his fingers following the trail of her tears. He lifted his hand away and looked at the wet pads of his fingers.
"It isn't for them," Teagan whispered. "I feel terrible for them, but it was a long time ago and they're somewhere they can't hurt anymore."
His blue eyes searched her dark ones. "For me? These are for me?"
She nodded. "I wish I was a better healer, Andre. I'd take the pain and sorrow away. I'm sorry I'm not."
He shook his head, staring down at her broodingly for what seemed an eternity, his beautiful, deep blue eyes drifting over her face with a hint of possession in them. "Go brush your teeth, then, Teagan. Be certain this is what you want."
He was what she wanted, and this terrible event had been the defining moment of his life. She needed to know, to share it with him, no matter the cost to her. She lifted her gaze to his,
held it. "I am absolutely certain."
He pushed a hand through his hair and then gripped the back of his neck as if it ached. "Teagan."
Her name again. He did that a lot, mostly when he was exasperated with her. Or she'd done something he couldn't quite get.
She held up her hand. "If what you said to me is the truth, Andre, and you belong to me, then this is my right. I need to understand. We're very different. If we're going to work, I need this information or I'm going to be stepping all over you without knowing it. Are you mine?"
He nodded his head slowly, his eyes suddenly soft. Just that look alone sent her heart tumbling and the butterflies fluttering.
"Well then, it's settled," she said firmly. She looked around for her backpack. She needed a small time-out so she could gather herself. Her legs were shaky and her eyes burned like hell, but she could do this. She would do this, no matter the cost to herself, because someone had to be in his life. Someone had to love him and care for him. Most of all, someone had to "see" him.
She looked over her shoulder at him as she removed her toothbrush and toothpaste from her pack. "You're not a ghost, Andre. Not to me. Never to me. I do see you and I'll always see you."
Because she was his woman and she was going to make this work. Somehow. Blood-taking aside, she'd make it work. Andre needed her, and deep down, where she kept all her secrets, she knew she needed him as well. She turned away from him. "I need water for rinsing out my mouth. This is just gross."
Andre stood there just watching Teagan, his body utterly still. She had cried for him. Cried. Real tears. For him. He could love her for that alone. Are you mine? Such a simple question, but it meant everything to him. She was giving herself to him. I do see you. I'll always see you. He had no idea a woman could wrap herself so tight inside a man that he couldn't find breath without her. You're not a ghost. He closed his eyes briefly just to savor the soft sound of her voice breathing life into him.
He wrapped his arm around her from behind, a cup of water in his fist. She took it and gave him a small smile over her shoulder. Just a flash of her rich, dark chocolate eyes. A deep, melting brown. Liquid. She tried to look stern at times, or tough, he was never quite certain what look she was going for because to him everything she did, every expression, was adorable. Cute. Beautiful.
"Thanks, Andre. I'll be finished in a minute."
He heard the warning in her voice as she turned back to rinse her mouth and brush her teeth. She was determined to see this through. He didn't want that for her. She really was too sensitive. He needed her to know why he had to make the decisions he made, but he didn't want her traumatized for life. Still, she was determined and she was impressive in her determination.
His woman. Teagan. He breathed her name in his mind. Beautiful, sweet Teagan. Her light shone bright even in the darkest of times. He had never thought to relive his worst day and yet he had when he clawed his way from Carpathian paralysis knowing Teagan was so close to a vampire's lair. He hadn't been able to breathe. He could barely think, his mind swamped with images of the loss of his human family.
Sweet, beautiful Teagan who commanded the light and could find humor in anything. He had vowed if he saved her, if he reached her in time, he would never allow her to be in such a precarious position again.
He'd faced countless battles and had suffered horrendous wounds. Nothing had ever threatened to break him--to shatter him--after the death of his human family. Not once in all the centuries of his existence, until he thought he might lose Teagan.
He found the way she brushed her teeth with such enthusiasm fascinating. He found everything about her fascinating. He liked the way she walked, the soft sway to her hips. He liked that she was small and he could practically surround her waist with his hands. Her muscles were small as well, but firm and tight, a climber's muscles.
She had cried for him. His own mother had never looked at him with soft eyes or wet ones. Only Dorina, his human mother who had died far too soon and in such a brutal way. No one else ever had. Until Teagan. Every moment he spent with her, he was aware he was falling deeper under her spell. He knew the lifemate bond was strong, unbreakable even, but he hadn't known his feelings for her would be equally as strong and unbreakable.
He was having a much more difficult time with his emotions being so new and raw and overwhelming. He felt everything and when the memories closed in, the sorrow was all too real and impossible to ignore.
He felt her then, pouring into his mind. Strong. Unbelievably strong. Her ability shocked him when few things in the world did anymore. She was a powerful psychic and with the enhancement of his blood, she was growing even more in strength. He didn't know if it was her particular gift or not, but she was definitely already partway in the Carpathian world.
He took her hand, locking their fingers together as he drew her back to the chairs he'd manufactured for her. She had a long way to go before she learned all that was in store for her with her new life, but everything she saw, even his memories, would help to prepare her.
She settled into the smaller of the two chairs, drawing up her knees almost protectively, although he knew she wasn't aware that was what she was doing. Andre couldn't have that. He reached over and lifted her right out of the chair and into his lap.
"What are you doing? This lap thing is becoming a habit, and I'm not the kind of girl to sit in men's laps," Teagan declared, but she wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You might want to rethink your position on that," Andre said. "I like having you close." He paused, nuzzling the top of her head, wishing again that her long hair was out of the braids so he could bury his hands in all its richness. "I need you this close to me."
Teagan leaned into Andre, allowing herself to breathe him in. She was already rethinking her position on laps. He was so warm, and he felt as good as he looked. More, his arms were strong and that made her safe. Well . . . she loved the way he smelled. Really loved it. Mostly, if he was going to relive the rest of his nightmare, she wanted to be close. She wanted to be holding him so he knew he wasn't alone.
"I'll rethink," she said, and brushed a kiss along his jaw. "Share the rest of it with me, Andre. Let me all the way in."
She hoped she was strong enough to be the woman he needed. The moment he reached for the memory, sorrow pressed in; not a blanket of it, more like a weighty stone. Grief was so acute she felt she was drowning in it. She took a breath and let herself go, gave herself to Andre. He needed her more than anyone else ever could.
She inhaled and smelled blood. She didn't know fear had an odor, but it did. Fear permeated the entire area between the house and the forest. She couldn't see Ion, but she knew it was impossible to save him. Euard was pinned by the four stakes through his shoulders and ribs. The hideous vampire gripped Elena--sweet young Elena--forcing her face toward the blood flowing from her brother's body. A few feet away lay Dorina, looking like a broken doll, her neck torn, her legs and arms twisted in macabre ways.
Andre rushed the vampire. Only a boy. No experience. His uncle was a big man, much like Andre fully grown. Clearly he had a lot of experience. Teagan wanted to close her eyes, just like she did if she inadvertently went into the room when her sisters were watching horror movies, but she couldn't. The scene played out in her mind--in Andre's mind--and she wasn't going to pull away and leave him alone. Still, she knew.
Ciprian laughed as he dropped the child to the ground and caught Andre as the boy tried to slam his fist through the vampire's chest.
"That is not the way, ghost," Ciprian said. "Join me. You led me here, now join me in the feast."
"Never," Andre declared, struggling against the power and strength of the larger man.
Ciprian caught Andre in his bony hands, his terrible talons digging deep into Andre's flesh. He bent his head and sank his teeth into Andre's neck, gulping at the rich blood. He didn't rend and tear as he'd done with the humans. He was more careful. Clearly he enjoyed watching Andre squirm. When he'd fed on Andr
e's blood, he flung the boy to the ground, deliberately aiming for Dorina's body.
"Even your blood is not strong yet," Ciprian said with derision. "You are a child playing at being a warrior. Join me or you will die with them." Contempt twisted his face, and he dismissed the boy, turning back to Elena, dragging her by her hair, off the ground where she'd crumpled at her brother's feet.
Andre landed almost on top of Dorina, on his back, the wind knocked out of him so that he lay there, his lungs burning, his face turned toward the only woman who had ever really showed him kindness. She was dying. He could see that, but still, her eyes, when she looked at him, were soft with love and fear for him. He touched her hand. He might not be able to save her, but he was determined to save her daughter at least.
The boy gathered himself, and this time he used his limited abilities to weave together a weapon. His uncle, completely absorbed in terrorizing the two human children, didn't bother to look at him a second time, certain Andre was no threat to him.
Andre moved fast, with blurring speed, and slammed the long spear through Ciprian's body, using his combined speed and weight for the force necessary to drive the wood through his back toward the vampire's heart. Ciprian screamed and flung Elena from him, whirling around as black blood splattered in a circle. He caught Andre by the throat with one hand.
"I am going to tear out your heart and eat it," he declared. A crafty look came into his eyes. "But first, you can wait while I kill the others." He waved his free hand and lifted Andre by his throat and drove him backward to the side of the house, right beside Euard.
Four stakes appeared anchored into the house, a good two inches around, the points razor-sharp. Ciprian slammed Andre's body right against the house itself, so that the stakes went through his shoulders and ribs, pinning him just like Euard. The tips came out the front so that his entire weight was suspended there.
The pain was excruciating, but it was nothing like the agony Andre suffered as he watched helplessly while his uncle tortured and killed both Elena and Euard. He wanted to die. He welcomed death. Not because of the physical pain, that didn't matter. In one long night he'd lost his birth parents. He had lost his uncle long ago, and now this human family--the one he loved--was dead. Ion. Dorina. Euard. Elena. All because of him. Because he'd sought them out and left a trail to them. He hadn't been strong enough to save them.