Shea was shaking her head in denial, a hand going to her throat in a curiously defenseless gesture. Her eyes met Jacques in helpless fear. I cannot. You know I cannot.

It is all right. Neither would I welcome another burial.Andit was true. Jacques had begun to suffocate, to associate the deep earth with pain and torment. I would not force such a decision on you.

Raven settled against Mikhail’s shoulder. “I sleep above ground in a very comfortable bed. Well, the bedroom is situated below ground, but it’s a beautiful room. You’ll have to come see it sometime. I don’t like to sleep in the ground. I was human, Shea, like you. If feels too much like being buried alive.”

“Rand is my father,” Shea admitted suddenly.

There was a stark silence in the room. Even the wind stopped, as if nature itself was holding its breath. Mikhail moved then, seemed to flow from the chair, his power unmistakable. His black eyes covered every inch of her. Gregori?

If this is true, Mikhail, Rand has done what was thought impossible. Unless...

Mikhail caught the thought. Gregori suspected that Shea’s mother was Rand’s true lifemate. “What you are saying is of tremendous importance to our race, Shea. Your mother is human?”

“Was. My mother committed suicide eight years ago. She couldn’t face life without Rand.” Her chin lifted defiantly. “She was so obsessed with him, she didn’t have anything left over for her child.” She said it matter-of-factly, as if she hadn’t suffered, hadn’t been alone all her life.

“Did he convert her?” Mikhail asked, furious at the unknown woman for neglecting her child, a female child at that. At the very least the woman should have brought the baby to the Carpathians to raise. “Was she Carpathian?”

“No, she wasn’t like you, not even like me. She was definitely human. She was beautiful, Irish, and completely withdrawn from the real world most of the time. I knew about Rand and Noelle through my mother’s diary.”

“Did your mother have any psychic talent?” Gregori asked thoughtfully.

Raven glanced up at Mikhail. She had psychic ability. Shea’s answer was extremely important to the future of their race. She would provide the proof of what they had long suspected, long hoped.

Shea’s teeth bit at her lip. “She knew things before they happened. She would know the phone was going to ring or that someone was about to stop by. You have to understand, though, she rarely spoke. She would forget about me for days, even weeks at a time, so I didn’t know much about her. She didn’t exactly share lots of information with me.”

“But you are certain Rand is your father?” Mikhail persisted.

“When I was born, my blood caused quite a stir in the medical community. In my mother’s diary she wrote that Rand was my father and that he had a strange blood disorder. She thought I had inherited it. She took me to Ireland, hid me, because the doctors and scientists frightened her with their persistent questions. She was certain Rand was dead.”

Mikhail and Gregori exchanged a look. Their race was dying out. The last female child to be born had been Noelle some five hundred years earlier. The men were choosing to end their existence or turning vampire without a lifemate. Mikhail and Gregori had long suspected that a handful of human women, those with true psychic talent, had the ability to become a lifemate as Raven had. There had never before been an instance of a child born half-human, half-Carpathian. The only explanation possible was that Shea’s mother had been Rand’s true lifemate. Everyone had known he did not have real feelings for Noelle. Yet Rand had not turned Shea’s mother. No Carpathian woman would have allowed her child to grow up alone as Shea’s mother had. Why hadn’t Rand said anything? Their people would have cherished a child.

Rand did not mention suicide when he awakened, Gregorimused. He stays to himself but that is not unusual.

“Is it possible for us to see this diary?” Mikhail asked Shea gently. Shea shook her head sadly. “I was being hunted. I had to destroy it.”

“Your life must have been difficult, with no one to guide you,” Gregori said quietly. “You are not without your own unique capability. You are a true healer.”

“I studied many years.” She sent him a small smile. “I had plenty of time to apply myself.”

“You were born a healer,” he corrected. “It is a rare gift.” Gregori’s silver eyes dwelt on her slender figure. “Jacques.” His voice dropped even lower so that the sound seemed to seep into one’s bloodstream and warm it like a good brandy. “She is growing weaker. Her body trembles. I know that you do not fully understand her importance to our entire race, but I know your instincts are strong and intact. You are her lifemate, sworn to her protection and care.”

Shea’s hand gripped Jacques’ tightly. “Don’t listen to him. What we choose to do has nothing to do with any of them.”

“Trust me, love, I would never allow him to harm you,” Jacques said softly in reassurance. “He is only concerned that you are so weak.”

“I am a healer, like you, Shea.” Gregori seemed to glide forward. His body flowed without a hint of movement or threat. He was just suddenly closer. “I would never hurt a woman. I am Carpathian. A male seeks only to protect and care for our women.” His hand reached out to her neck. The touch of his fingers was astonishing. Light. Heat. A tingling sensation. “You must feed, Shea.” The voice was around her, in her, working at her will. “Jacques needs you strong to see him through what lies ahead. Our people need you. My blood is ancient and powerful. It will serve you, heal you, strengthen both of you.”

“No! Jacques, no. Tell him no.” For some reason she was alarmed at the idea.

“I will feed her,” Jacques objected quietly, his voice all the more menacing because of its hush.

The pale eyes slid over him. “You need to conserve your strength to heal your own body. Mikhail will supply you with what you need. There was a time, not so long ago, when you gave freely to your brother.”

Jacques carefully inspected Shea. Her skin was so pale, she looked translucent. The bruises on her throat, stark smudges; had not healed. She looked tired, her body far too slender. Gregori was right; she was trembling. Why had he not seen her weakness? He certainly had contributed to it. Hisblood is very pure, Shea. It is what aided my healing so quickly. I am not happy with another male seeing to your needs, but he is our healer. I want you to do as he says.

I won’t, Jacques.Shea shook her head adamantly. I want to go right now. You promised me we could go.

This must be done, Shea. He is right. You grow weaker every day.

We don’t need them to help us.She held out a hand to stop Gregori’s advance. “I know you’re trying to help us, but I’m not ready for this yet. I need to figure things out for myself and get used to what I have to do to survive. Surely that’s not such an unreasonable thing.” Deliberately her fingers tangled with Jacques’, linking them together. She needed him on her side, to understand she needed time.

“To give you time to slowly die from lack of care? Your health has been neglected for some time. You are a doctor—you know that is so. You made up your mind your life span would be very short. That cannot be,” Gregori said softly. His voice was mesmerizing, hypnotic. “Our women are our only hope. We cannot lose you.”

Shea could feel Jacques’ swift denial of the possibility of such a thing. Violence swirled close to the surface, but he man aged to control it. His black eyes centered on her green ones. I know what he says is true. Shea. I have felt your acceptance of your death on more than one occasion. You were willing to trade your life for mine.

That’s different, and you know it,she said desperately. His hands were on her, trapping her to him. Don’t do this, Jacques. Let me do this in my own time.