“Drugs, Andre? Isn’t that stooping a little low even for one such as you?” She had to fight every moment just to breathe, to keep from breaking down and sobbing out her grief for the priest. If only she hadn’t angered the vampire.
Andre’s face darkened when she uttered his name with such contempt, but he simply stared into her eyes, flooding her with compulsion, the need to obey him.
Loathing him as she did, fearful for Mikhail and grief-stricken over the priest and Jacques, Raven summoned every ounce of strength she possessed and fought a mental battle with him. Her head nearly exploded with pain and only when little beads of blood appeared on her forehead did he relent.
The vampire pushed down his fury at her rebellion. She was close to death and if she died all his scheming would be for nothing. “You will die if you do not feed. I know Mikhail knows this. Do you hear me, prince? She dies. Force her to accept what I offer.”
You must do this, little one. Mikhail’s voice was gently coaxing. You will be dead before I can reach you, and above all else, you must survive.
The blood is drugged.
Drugs do not effect Carpathians.
Raven sighed, looked once more at the vampire. “What else is in it?”
“Only herbs, my dear, herbs that will confuse you a bit, but will ensure that my friends have plenty of time to study Mikhail. They can keep him alive, a prisoner here. Is that not what you want? That he remain alive? The alternative is to kill him immediately.” He pushed the glass at her.
Her stomach knotted in rebellion. It would just be so much easier to close her eyes and stop struggling for every breath. She could barely stand the pain in her head. She was responsible for Jacques’s grave wound, for Father Hummer’s death. Worst of all, her beloved Mikhail was racing straight into the arms of the enemy because of her. If she just stopped…
No! Mikhail’s voice was sharp and imperious.
Do not! Gregori added his strength to Mikhail’s protest.
The vampire wrapped his hand around her throat in his fury that she might choose death and defeat him. His touch made her skin crawl; her stomach roiled in protest. Suddenly the vampire screamed and leaped back away from her, his face contorted in fury and pain. Raven could see his charred and blackened palm, still smoking as he held it to his chest. Mikhail had sent his own warning and challenge.
“You think he will win,” the vampire snarled at her, “but he will not. Now drink!” His hands closed around her wrist, steadying her hand.
Raven’s mind splintered and screamed at the close proximity of such evil. The crumpled body of Edgar Hummer lay in plain sight, no more than a heap of refuse to the vampire. Touching Andre, she could read his mind easily. He was the most depraved being she had ever encountered.
The drug would confuse her enough that he could make her believe she belonged to him. Mikhail would be kept alive, living in pain and torment, too weak to attack his captors. Slovensky enjoyed inflicting pain. His brother was eager to dissect a vampire, experiment on one. The vampire was certain the Slovensky brothers would die at the hands of the avenging Carpathians. She read it all, the betrayal and the hideousness of the undead’s plans.
Mikhail! Do not come to this place! She resisted the compulsion to drink the tainted blood, struggling feebly in the vampire’s foul hold. I will not allow you to fall into their hands. I will choose death.
“Drink!” The vampire was becoming alarmed. Her heart was stuttering with effort. There was a smear of crimson across her forehead, indicating agony.
“Never,” she said between clenched teeth.
“She dies, Mikhail. Is this what you want for her? She dies in my arms, with me, and I have won anyway.” Andre shook her in his fury. “He will commit suicide the moment you relinquish life. Are you so stupid that you do not realize that? He will die.”
Her blue-violet eyes searched the gaunt face. “He will destroy you first.” She said it with complete conviction.