Celeste’s lifemate, Eric, answered grimly. “He was crazy, Mikhail. It took all of us to subdue him, but he sleeps now. The child is with him deep in the ground. The healing will do them good.”
“We could not afford to lose Noelle.” Mikhail pushed grief away; it was not the time to feel it. “Eric, can you keep Rand under control?”
“I think you should talk to him,” Eric answered honestly. “The guilt is making him crazy. He nearly turned on us.”
“Vlad, where is Eleanor? She is at risk, heavy with child. We must protect her as we will Celeste,” Mikhail said. “We cannot afford the loss of any of our women and certainly not their children.”
“She is so close to term, I was worried about her traveling.” Vlad sighed heavily. “She is safe and well-guarded for the moment, but I think this war is starting again.”
Mikhail tapped a finger on the small table near the chessboard. “Perhaps it is significant that we have three of our women giving birth for the first time in a decade. Our children are few and far between. If the assassins somehow have gained knowledge of our women’s condition, they will be afraid we are multiplying, growing strong again.”
Mikhail shot the most muscular of the men a quick glance. “Jacques, you have no lifemate to encumber you.” There was the faintest trace of affection in his voice, affection he could never feel or show before and maybe wasn’t aware anyone else knew of. Jacques was his brother. “Neither does Byron. You two will get word to all the others. Lie low, feed only in the deepest cover, sleep deep within the ground, and always use the most powerful safeguards. We must watch our women and get them to safety, especially those who are with child. Do not draw attention to yourselves in any way.”
“For how long, Mikhail?” Celeste’s eyes were shadowed, her face tearstained. “How long must we live like this?”
“Until I find and dispense justice to the assassins.” There was a fierce, savage note in his voice. “All of you have become soft, mixing so much with mortals. You are forgetting the gifts that could save your lives,” he reprimanded them harshly. “My woman is mortal, yet she knew of your presence before you knew of hers. She felt your unguarded emotions, knows of the assassins through your thoughts. There is no excuse for that.”
“How can this be?” Eric dared to ask. “No mortal has such power.”
“She is telepathic and very strong in her gift. She will be here often; she will be protected, as will all of our women.”
The others exchanged bewildered, confused looks. According to the legend, only their strongest members might be able to convert a mortal. It simply wasn’t done, was far too risky. It had been tried centuries earlier, when the ranks of their women had been depleted and the men were without hope. But no one dared try it anymore. Most of them believed it was a myth made up to keep their males from losing their souls. Mikhail was unreadable, implacable, his judgment never questioned throughout the centuries. He settled arguments and protected them. He hunted the males who had chosen to turn vampire, dangerous to mortals and immortals alike.
Now this. A mortal woman. They were shocked and it showed. They were obligated to put the life of Mikhail’s woman before their own. If Mikhail said she was under his protection, he meant it. He never said anything he didn’t mean. And if she was harmed, the penalty would be death. Mikhail was a savage, merciless, and unrelenting enemy.
Mikhail felt the weight of his responsibility for Noelle’s death. He had known of Rand’s weakness for women. Mikhail had objected to the union, but he hadn’t forbidden it, as he should have. Rand was not Noelle’s true lifemate. Chemistry would never allow a true mate to cheat on his woman. Noelle, his beautiful sister, so young and vibrant, lost to them forever. She had been headstrong, wanting Rand because he was handsome, not because her soul called to his. They had lied, but he had known they were lying. Ultimately it had been his responsibility that Rand continued to try to find emotion by being with other women, and Noelle had grown into a bitter, dangerous woman. She must have died instantly or Mikhail would have felt it, even deep in his sleep. Rand should never have had the care of one of their women.