To Jacques, that was the beauty of a lifemate’s bond. Everything was there for the taking, but it was up to the partner to do what they wanted with it all. Jacques knew he would fly to the moon and haul it down for her, walk on water or swim through hot lava if that was what it took to make her happy. Shea was his life, and they had centuries to get to know one another properly. She did not need to confront his killer instincts with- her every waking breath.

His palm cupped her face, moved lovingly to her slender neck, his thumb feathering over her soft skin. He ached with love for her. “I promise to be careful.”

“Really careful,” she insisted.

He found the hard edges of his mouth turning up. “Really reallycareful,” he clarified.

Her fingertip traced his smile. “I’m sorry I was so crazy about the healer giving me blood, but I really can’t stand it yet, even thinking about it. When we’re together, it seems different, something beautiful and natural, but the thought of anyone else—” Her stomach lurched, and she broke off.

Jacques’ mouth skimmed her face, settled on her lips for a brief, disturbing moment. “I understand. I am stronger now, little red hair. I can care for you properly.”

Her eyebrows shot up, and she frowned. “That isn’t exactly what I meant. Don’t go all macho on me. That would make me sicker than finding some cute human male to feed off.”

She was teasing him. Intellectually he knew it, but for a moment a red haze of jealousy clouded his mind. Rage welled up, and he forced it under control. He knew immediately that he was lucky she didn’t want to take sustenance from another man. Something in his fragmented mind, or perhaps it was his possessive nature, would not stand for it. No man, human or Carpathian, was going to be completely safe until he learned to control his fear of losing her. Jacques raked a hand through his hair. “I have a long way to go before I will be normal again.”

She burst out laughing. “No one has said you ever were normal, Jacques.”

He felt the flood of warmth at her teasing and basked in it. “Stay here, little red hair. Stay safe for me.”

She lay back, lazily reclining on the flat rock. Her bright red hair spread out around her like strands of silk. The clean lines of her nude body, her full breasts and tight, fiery curls beckoned to him. Jacques backed away from her. He was going to have to learn a lot about self-control over the next few hundred years. He turned abruptly and walked away.

Once through the small passageway leading back to the tunnel, he shape-shifted as he hurried through the maze of pathways. His body compressed, smaller, even smaller, until he was the very creature Shea was terrified of. Small wings took him gliding quickly through the network of tunnels, upward to the shortcut. It was a tiny chimney cut by centuries of water constantly trickling through solid rock. He charged up it and out into the night sky. Almost instantly his body reshaped itself in flight, taking on the larger, more powerful, and much more formidable shape of an owl. Razor-sharp talons and hooked beak, thick feathers and eyes that easily pierced the night, served him well. He winged his way over the forest canopy toward the cabin housing the three hunters.

Jacques had deliberately ordered their compliance. They would stay the night, unable to figure out why it was so important but unable to defy his hypnotic suggestion. He had taken their blood, directed their minds, and could call them to him at will. The hunters had not intended to stay, as the land was inhospitable to them and they were beginning to believe the superstitions of the locals. He knew the memories he had implanted would remain for as long as he wanted and that they would always answer his bidding if he so desired.

The beauty of the night, seen through the owl’s eyes, was incredible. Far below, on the forest floor, small animals scurried for cover. The green canopy blanketing the trees swayed and danced in the wind, a beautiful ballet. The breeze caught at feathers, lifted them and rushed at him with a feeling of sheer joy and power. He spotted the cabin below and swooped down toward it.

Almost immediately he realized something had to be wrong. No smoke came from the chimney, and on a night like this the three hunters would need warmth. The owl banked sharply and glided in, talons extended. He landed as a man, on his feet, his senses alert to any impending dangers, flaring out to scan the area. He caught no signs of life, but he smelled death. The stench was in his nostrils, along with the pungent scent of terror. Someone had died violently, and had known it was coming. Jacques moved carefully, cloaking himself against the sight of humans. He detected none in the immediate area—but then, he hadn’t found Smith or Wallace either. He could find no threat, yet he continued to move warily toward the darkened cabin.

He found the first body beside the porch. The man was mangled, his throat torn, the wound gaping and brutal, as though a huge animal had attacked and killed him. He was drained of blood. Jacques stood beside the hunter’s body for a moment, angry with himself for exposing the human to danger needlessly. Of course Rand would know he would need to feed often; he would look for Jacques’ source and cut it off.

Jacques remained very still while he took stock of his surroundings. The kill was fresh, minutes old, the body still warm. The vampire was somewhere in the immediate vicinity, waiting for him. Jacques had no doubt he was next on the vampire’s list. Jacques could not detect any evidence of him, yet he knew with a certainty he was being stalked. He inhaled sharply and allowed the demon inside to awaken with an ugly roar. Jacques could feel the faint stirring in his mind, the gentle, warm inquiry. Do not attempt to contact me, Shea. The vampire is attempting a trap. I cannot be distracted.

Then I will come to you!Shea was very alarmed.

Jacques could almost see her face, the enormous green eyes wide with worry, her chin determined. You will do as I bid, Shea. I cannot worry about both of us and succeed.He used his firmest voice, sending a reinforcing push toward her.

He could feel her reluctance to obey him, but she did not protest further, believing she might endanger him. Jacques moved up the stairs stealthily. The door was slightly ajar, the wind pushing it gently to and fro. The hinges were old and rusty and squeaked with each shift of the wind. Jacques slipped inside to the smell of death and fear, the overwhelming scent of blood.

The floor was a pool of dark, nearly black liquid, sticky and thick. The two bodies had been flung carelessly aside after the vampire had sated himself on the adrenaline-laced sustenance.

He had deliberately drained the rest of the blood from the bodies so that the smell of it would further trigger Jacques’ need to feed. He also made certain there was nothing left for Jacques to use to ease that biting, gnawing hunger. It was growing in him every moment, weakening his body, preying on his strength.

No, it’s not, Jacques.Shea’svoice was a soft, clean note in his head. You are not weak. You are strong, very strong and healthy. The vampire has set another trap for you. Get out of the house, get into the open air. You are young and strong. There is nothing he can do to you.In her mind there was complete confidence in him, not so much as a shadow of worry or doubt. She believed in him. Jacques could do no other than to follow her lead and believe in himself.

Very carefully he searched the interior of the cabin, looking for hidden traps. When the feeling of doom persisted in creeping into his mind, he reached for Shea’s reassuring presence. She was always there, utterly loyal, determined to make him see himself as she saw him. Her belief in him enabled him to see how the vampire’s trap was preying on his mind. He found himself smiling grimly, without humor. He acknowledged the vampire’s power and expertise in illusion, but Shea had broken the spell with her unfailing belief in him. Jacques was strong enough to deal with the undead; it was only a matter of perceiving the traps for the illusions they were.