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? The voice 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.