Just as Mercy had been taken by surprise by her attacker, so was Greynell. Judah shoved the dagger deep into his back, puncturing a kidney, killing him without a second thought. Mercy gasped for air when the cord around her neck loosened. Her assailant’s body dropped onto the pavement at her feet, crumpling into a dead heap.
Hurriedly, Judah blasted Greynell’s body with an energy bolt, crushing it to dust.
Judah had accomplished his mission. It was time for him to leave. But he hesitated. For only a split second, but it was long enough to sense that Mercy was in trouble. Weakened by the healing miracle she had performed on the accident victim, Mercy was not only dangerously weak, but because of fighting Greynell with what little strength she’d had left, she was quickly fading into an unconscious state from which she might not recover.
Acting purely on possessive instinct, Judah grabbed Mercy before she fainted. The woman in the truck was still alive, healed by Mercy’s magic. She slept peacefully at her dead husband’s side.
The shrill cries of multiple sirens warned Judah to escape. But he could not leave Mercy. If he did, she might die. He, and he alone, could revive her.
Sidonia decided that if Mercy had not returned by midnight, she would call Dante. Dr. Huxley had phoned two hours ago to ask if Mercy had gotten home all right.
“I know she’d been to the site of the accident, because the only survivor told me that Mercy saved her life,” Dr. Huxley had said. “I don’t understand why she didn’t wait for me. She knows I would have made sure someone saw her safely home if she was too weak to drive herself.”
“You’re worried about my mother, aren’t you?” Eve said.
Sidonia gasped, then turned and faced the six-year-old, who was standing in the doorway between the foyer and the front parlor. “I thought I put you to bed hours ago. Did something wake you?”
“I haven’t been asleep.”
Intending to take Eve back to her bedroom, Sidonia marched toward her. “It’s past eleven, and time for all good little girls to be fast asleep.”
“I’m not a good little girl. I am Raintree.” Eve narrowed her expressive green eyes. “I am more than Raintree.”
A foreboding chill rippled up Sidonia’s spine. “So you have said, and I have agreed. So let’s not talk about it again. Not at this late hour.” She grasped Eve’s hand. “Now come along. Your mother will be upset with both of us if, when she comes home, you aren’t in bed.”
“She will come home,” Eve said. “Soon. Before midnight.”
Sidonia lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. “Is that right? And you’d know that because…?”
“Because I can see her. She’s asleep. But she will wake up soon.”
Was Mercy out there somewhere, alone and weak to the point of unconsciousness? Was that what Eve saw? “Do you know where she is? Can you tell me exactly where I can find her?”
“She’s in her car, the one Uncle Dante gave her,” Eve said. “It’s parked somewhere dark. But she’s all right. He’s with her. Touching her. Taking care of her. Giving her some of his strength.”
“Who…?” Sidonia’s voice quivered. “Who is with your mother? Who is giving her some of his strength?”
Eve smiled, the gesture equally sweet and impish. “Why, my daddy, of course.”
TWO
Mercy Raintree was even more beautiful than she’d been in her early twenties and far more dangerous. Despite her present weak state, Judah sensed the tremendous power within her. She was, as he had suspected, a woman who was now his equal. Odd that he, her rightful destroyer, had saved her from one of his own clan, that at this very moment he was restoring her strength when he could easily break her neck or drain the very life from her with a mere thought. And he would kill her-when the time was right. When the Ansara attacked the Raintree and annihilated their entire tribe. Unlike the Raintree, the Ansara would leave no one alive, not a single man, woman or child. But he would be merciful to his beautiful Mercy and take her life quickly, with as little pain as possible.
While she lay in his arms unconscious, he probed her mind but found it impossible to gain entrance. She had placed a block between her and the outside world, a shield to prevent anyone from listening to her private thoughts. If he tried harder, he could possibly destroy the barrier, but why should he bother? It wasn’t as if he needed information from her. If not for Greynell’s foolish actions, he would never have been here with her. Hell, he wouldn’t be within a thousand miles of her. For the past seven years, he had made certain their paths never crossed, that he stayed far away from the North Carolina mountains and the Raintree home place.
Her eyelids flickered, consciousness fighting for dominance, her mind trying to come out of the shadows. But Judah knew she would not awaken fully for many hours. After the combination of such an arduous healing and her struggle for her life, her mind and body could not recover without rest, not even with the surge of strength with which he had infused her. She lay in his arms, helpless, completely vulnerable. But she was not without her weapons, protection far more potent than the psychic barrier that safeguarded her private thoughts.
If Greynell had succeeded in killing her, all hell would have broken loose. Literally. The death of a Raintree princess would have played havoc with the senses of all who were Raintree, especially Dante and Gideon. A host of her clansmen would have swarmed home, to the sanctuary. What if the Raintree Dranir and his younger brother suspected the fatal blow had come from an Ansara? He dared not risk even the slightest possibility that Mercy’s premature death could warn the Raintree of the Ansaras’ resurgence.
Judah looked down at her. She was resting peacefully against him as he sat with her in his lap on the passenger side of her vehicle. Her head nestled on his shoulder, her slender arms limp at her sides, her full, round breasts rising and falling with each breath she took.
He skimmed her cheek with the back of his hand.
Memories he had forced from his mind by sheer willpower years ago broke free and reminded him of another time, another place, when he had held this woman in his arms. When he had touched her, had tutored her, had taught her…
He had known who she was when they first met, and the very fact that she was a Raintree princess had whetted his appetite for her. She’d had no idea of his true identity, and the fact that she’d succumbed to his charms so easily had amused him. She had been practically an open book to him, unable to completely shield herself, her abilities still immature and only partly tamed. He, on the other hand, had protected himself, deliberately keeping his true identity and nature from her. They had spent less than twenty-four hours together, but in that short period of time she had become like a fever in his blood. No matter how many times he’d taken her, he had still wanted her.
“You were a bewitching little virgin,” Judah told the sleeping Mercy. “Sweet. Luscious. Ripe for the picking.”
Caressing her long, slender neck, he allowed his fingertips to linger on her pulse.
Judah… Judah…
Hearing Mercy telepathically whispering his name stunned him. He tightened his hold about her neck, then suddenly realized what he was doing and eased his hand away from her.
On some level, she sensed his presence. That was not good. How could he explain what he was doing here, why he had just happened to be on a back road in the North Carolina mountains at the exact moment some madman tried to kill her?
He had to take her home and leave her in safe hands before she awakened. If she recalled anything about him, perhaps she would believe she had simply dreamed of him.
Did she ever dream of him? Or was he nothing more than a vague memory?
Why should I care? This woman means nothing to me. She didn’t then. She doesn’t now. She was only a fleeting amusement for me.