Shea was lying motionless on a rock when Jacques entered the steamy underground chamber. He stood very still in the entrance, afraid to move or speak. She had not responded to his telepathic call to her. If she were lost to him, the monster that was Rand would win after all. No one would ever be safe again until Jacques was destroyed. He shook his head. No, if she were dead, he would not leave her to face the unknown without him. Rand would not win. Jacques would follow her, find her. They would spend their life in the next world together.

He cleared his throat carefully, noisily, wanting her to turn to face him. She didn’t move, her body utterly still. Jacques inhaled sharply and caught the faint scent of blood. He cleared the distance between them in a single leap, his speed so great, he was almost unable to stop before plunging headlong into the pool. As it was, he teetered precariously on the rim of the boulder before regaining his balance.

There was blood smeared on the rock beside Shea’s naked body, a faint crimson ribbon over her breasts. Jacques cried out, dropped to his knees beside her, gathered her up to press her against his chest. Her heart was not beating. He could not feel a pulse or find a thread of life. “No!” He shouted it hoarsely, his voice echoing through the chamber eerily. The voice was lonely and lost, his heart ripped out, like Rand’s.

Jacques?Thevoice was faint and far off but unmistakably Shea’s.

Jacques held his breath for a moment, afraid he had truly lost his mind. “Shea?” He breathed her name, a whisper of silk like the feel of her hair on his body. That light. “Where are you, little love? Come back to me.”

Jacques pressed his forehead to hers, his hand over her heart. He felt the first strong beat in his palm, the first rush of blood through her veins and arteries. He captured her mouth with his to take the first breath from her lungs. His own heart could beat, his own lungs could work. He felt tears on his face and held her close.

“What happened to you out there?” she asked softly, clinging to him.

“The vampire and I fought,” he said into her mass of red hair. He caught a strand on the tip of his tongue, ran it through his mouth, needing the feel of her close to him.

“I know. It was Rand. I felt you hit him. I could feel his hatred. It was terrible, like something alien in my body. When you struck, I could feel his pain. Right away I began to bleed. I knew he would use it against you somehow, so I tried to do what you said all Carpathians could do.” She looked ruefully around her at the smears of blood. “It took a while to figure things out, but eventually I was able to put myself to sleep.”

She took his breath away with her bravery. “Why did you not contact me?”

“I was afraid it would distract you, Jacques. I knew you were in a fight for your life. The last thing you needed to do was worry about me.”

“You are still bleeding,” he pointed out softly, holding her away from him so he could examine her.

“It doesn’t really hurt all that much, now that you’re back and safe,” she assured him.

“I’m sorry it was your father. I know how much having a father, some member of your family, alive would have meant to you.” He bent his head to the angry cut across her left breast. His tongue lapped at the wound gently, the healing properties in his saliva instantly closing the laceration. Her skin, recently so cold and lifeless, was suddenly beginning to heat. Steam rose all around them, enfolding them in its embrace. “My family will have to be your family,” he added softly. “We will make our own family.”

Shea rubbed her face against his chest like a kitten, her mouth wandering up the column of his throat. “We have a strange family, Jacques, every one of them. I guess we’ll have to be the sane ones.”

He loved the laughter in her voice. As sad as she must be at this moment, with the man who was her father responsible for so much death and hatred, she still found it in her to try to make him feel better. His arms tightened protectively. “I suppose we cannot tell them we feel this way.”

“Better not. I think they’re under the mistaken impression that something is a little off with us.” Shea moved her head, swinging the silky hair away from her neck, exposing a long, deep scratch for his attention.

Jacques instantly bent his head to accommodate her. His tongue tasted the sweet spice of life, caressed and teased, moved up her neck to find her ear. His teeth nipped gently. He could feel the responsive shiver run through her. Her skin was soft and warm, bringing life to his own. “And we can create our own family eventually, Shea. Our child.” When he felt her stiffen, he held her closer, his voice a velvet soft whisper. “Not now, Shea, later, when you are strong in our world and sure of yourself, and I am completely healed. Our child. Children. Your dream has become my dream. We can have it, Shea.”

“Don’t, Jacques,” Shea said.

“We can, my love. I am remembering things much faster now. I know as we grow together, I will be able to feel as you feel. I want our child. I want you happy. I want to give you a family. Do not close out the idea from your mind. We have centuries to come to this decision, but know this: I want it, too.”

“When you can promise me you will remain and love and guide our child should something happen to me, then I will gladly agree.”

His teeth touched the side of her neck. “Thanks to you, I have faith in myself. I will someday be able to give you such a promise. I will also tell you, if such a thing should occur, that the child would be my hope on this earth, and when she or he had a family, then I would gladly join you.”

She could feel the tears swimming in her eyes. “Then I am truly happy, Jacques. You could never give me a more beautiful gift than you already have. Even if you never reach that point, I will always love you for wanting to reach it and striving to do so.”

“Your happiness is of great importance to me.”

“You smell different, Jacques.” Shea inhaled his scent sharply, pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “Why do you smell different?”

He laughed softly. “It is not a woman, red hair. Why are you so suspicious? I met another one such as myself in the forest. I was in need, and he offered his aid.”

“And you took it?” She was astonished. Jacques had certainly come a long way from the wary, dark, dangerous man she had first encountered. “He was a total stranger, yet you allowed him to help you?”

“You were a total stranger, and I allowed you to do more than simply aid me,” he teased, his mouth warm against the corner of hers. “In fact, you gave me all sorts of interesting ideas on how you could further aid me.”

“I did not. As I recall, I told you I was your doctor, nothing more, and you would not listen to me. You know, Jacques, that’s a very bad habit of yours, not listening to me.”

His mouth wandered back to her ear, his breath stirring her blood. “I promise to remedy the situation as soon as humanly possible,” he whispered with a sorcerer’s magic.

Shea could feel his breath right down to her toes. Then she saw an ugly slash wound marring his shoulder. She lowered her mouth to heal it and tasted the unique flavor that was Jacques. She felt his involuntary response and deliberately squirmed closer, bringing her body right up against his. She tasted his essence, she tasted the adrenaline, the primitive joy of battle, she tasted his pain. “Humanlypossible, huh?” she mused. “I don’t know if I like the way you put that. It seems to me you’ll be able to get around that one fairly easily.” Shea circled his neck with her arms and pulled his head down to hers. Blindly, unerringly, she found his mouth with hers. She put everything into her kiss, her love, her fear, her acceptance of his ways. Her desire for him, her need of him, all of it rushed from her to him.