by Linda Howard
“Our success might well depend upon removing the Raintree royal siblings before the great battle, yet all three are still alive and well.”
“But not for long.” Cael grinned. “Dante is in for quite a surprise tonight. And once Judah returns to Terrebonne and is consumed with other matters, I will send another warrior to take care of Mercy.”
Sidonia heard the car drive up and park. She had taken Eve back to her room and tucked her in for a second time, warning the little imp to stay put, but she doubted the child was asleep. Eve was concerned about Mercy, just as she herself was.
Pausing at the front door, Sidonia, peered through the left sidelight and gasped when she saw a large, dark man walking toward the veranda, an unconscious Mercy in his arms. The only vehicle in sight was Mercy’s Escalade, so who was this stranger and why was he with Mercy?
Closing her eyes, Sidonia called for her animal helpers to awaken and come to her. Within minutes, by the time the stranger set foot on the veranda, Magnus and Rufus, her fiercely faithful Rottweilers, appeared in the yard, one on the right, the other on the left, flanking the veranda.
Sidonia opened the front door, took one step over the threshold and faced the stranger. He paused as if he’d been expecting her, and his gaze connected with hers. He was not Raintree. His eyes were steel gray. Hard and cold, with no sign of emotion.
“I’ve brought your mistress home, old woman,” the man told her, his voice a deep, commanding baritone.
No, he was not Raintree, but neither was he a mere mortal.
A tremor of unease jangled Sidonia’s nerves. If he was not Raintree and he was not human, that meant…
“You assume correctly,” he said. “I am Ansara.”
Sensing Sidonia’s fear, Magnus and Rufus growled.
The man—the Ansara man—stared first at Rufus and then at Magnus. They quieted instantly. Sidonia hazarded quick glances to her right and left. Both large animals stood frozen like marble statues.
“What have you done to—”
“They’re unharmed. In an hour, they will be as they were and return to their sleep.”
“What are you doing with Mercy? Did you harm her? If you have, the wrath of the Raintree will—”
“Be quiet, old woman, and show me where to place your mistress so she can rest and recover from her ordeal. She healed a dying woman tonight.”
Confused by this Ansara’s concern for Mercy, Sidonia hesitated, then backed up to allow him entrance. He was a handsome devil. Wide shouldered, at least six-two, with flowing black hair that hung in a single braid down his back, and chiseled features that made him look as if he’d been cut from stone.
“Her room is upstairs, but I think it best if you—”
Ignoring Sidonia, the man headed for the staircase.
“Wait!”
He did not wait; instead, he took the stairs two at a time, Sidonia following as quickly as her old legs would carry her. By the time she reached the second floor, he already had the door to Mercy’s bedroom open, apparently being guided by his instinct.
Scurrying down the hall, Sidonia came up behind the Ansara just as he laid Mercy on her bed. From the doorway, she watched him as he stared at Mercy for a full minute, then turned and walked toward the door.
“Who are you? What is your name?” Sidonia demanded. He couldn’t be that Ansara, could he? Surely not.
“I am Judah Ansara.”
Sidonia gasped.
He smiled wickedly. “I once wondered if Mercy might have suspected I was an Ansara, and if that was the reason she fled from me so quickly that long ago morning.”
“Stop reading my mind!” Heaven help her, she had to do something to prevent this Ansara demon from listening to her thoughts. He mustn’t find out—shut up, you old fool, she told herself. Then she closed her eyes and recited an ancient spell, one that should protect her from this wicked Ansara’s mental probing.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Sidonia,” Judah told her. “I will leave your thoughts private. But when I leave, I’m afraid I must erase from your mind all memory of my visit here tonight.”
“Don’t you touch my mind again, you evil beast.”
Judah laughed.
“You find me amusing, do you? Don’t think because I am well past eighty that my skills are not as sharp as they ever were.”
“I would never insult you by underestimating your powers.”
“Why are you with Mercy?” Sidonia demanded. “What are you doing here on Raintree land? How did you—”
“Why I’m here doesn’t matter. I found Mercy in an unconscious state and brought her home. You should be grateful to me.”
“Grateful to Ansara scum like you? Never!”
“Does Mercy feel about me the way you do? Does she hate me?”
“Of course she hates you. She is Raintree. You are Ansara.”
He glanced at the bed where Mercy rested. Tempted to probe the old woman’s mind for answers, Judah snorted, disgusted with himself for allowing his curiosity about Mercy’s feelings to concern him.
“You can’t stay here,” Sidonia said. “You must leave. Immediately.”
“I have no plans to remain here,” Judah told her. “I leave your mistress in your capable hands.”
“Yes, yes. Leave now, and go quickly.”
When Judah turned to leave, his mind centered on a spell that would erase Sidonia’s memories of his visit, he spotted a small shadow behind and to the side of the old woman. He paused and waited, suspecting the Raintree nanny might have conjured up some deadly little spirit to escort him out of the house. But suddenly the shadow moved from behind Sidonia and came into the room, the light from the hallway backlighting the figure, making it appear a golden white, like the glow of moonlight. The shadow was a child, a girl child, he realized.
Judah stared at the little one and saw that her eyes were a true Raintree green, and her pale blond hair flowed in long, shimmering curls to her waist. If his eyesight had not told him that Mercy was the child’s mother, his inner vision would have.
So Mercy had married and had children. At least one child. This remarkably lovely little girl was so like her mother, and yet…
What was it about the child that puzzled him? She was a Raintree child, no doubt of that. But she was different.
Sidonia grabbed the girl and tried to shove the little beauty behind her, but the child wiggled free of the old nanny’s hold and walked fearlessly toward Judah.
“No, child, don’t!” Sidonia cried. “Stay away from him. He is evil.”
The child stopped several feet away from Judah, then looked up and stared right at him, her gaze connecting boldly with his.
“I’m not afraid of him,” the child said. “He won’t hurt me.”
Judah smiled, impressed with her bravery.
Seasoned warriors had trembled at the very sight of Judah Ansara.
When Sidonia came forward, intending to grab the child, the little girl lifted her arm and held her tiny hand in front of the old woman, who went deadly still, immobilized by magic.
Amazing. The child’s abilities were greatly advanced for one so young.
“You’re very powerful, little one,” Judah said. He had never known an Ansara or a Raintree to possess so much power at such a young age. “I don’t know of any five-year-olds capable of—”
“I’m six,” she told him, her shoulders straight, her head held high. A true princess.
“Hmm…But even at six, you are far more advanced than other Raintree children, aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes. Because I am more than Raintree.”
“Are you indeed?” He glanced at the stricken expression on Sidonia’s partially frozen face and realized that not only had the girl immobilized the old woman’s limbs, she had rendered her temporarily mute.
“You don’t know who I am, do you?” the little girl asked. When she smiled at him, Judah’s gut tightened. There was something strikingly familiar about her smile.
“I believ
e you’re Mercy Raintree’s child, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked, his curiosity piqued by the child’s precocious nature. He sensed an unnatural strength in her…and a kinship that wasn’t possible.
She nodded again, her smile widening. “Yes, I know.”
This child could not possibly know who he was. He kept his true identity protected from all who were not Ansara. “If you know who I am, what is my name?”
“I don’t know your name,” she admitted.
Judah sighed inwardly, relieved that he had overestimated the child’s abilities and had been mistaken about the momentary sense of a familial bond. Oddly drawn to the little girl, he approached her, knelt on his haunches so that they were face-to-face and said, “My name is Judah.”
She held out her little hand.
He looked at her offered hand. Oddly enough, the thought of killing this child—Mercy’s child—saddened him. He would make sure her death was as quick and painless as Mercy’s.
He took her hand. An electrical current shot through Judah, unlike anything he had ever experienced. A raw, untamed power of recognition and possession.
“Hello, Daddy. I’m your daughter, Eve.”
An earsplitting scream shook the semi-dark bedroom as Mercy Raintree woke from her healing sleep.
Chapter 3
The sound of her own scream resounded inside Mercy’s head, and for a split second she thought she was dreaming that her worst nightmare had come true. As the echoes of her terrified scream shivered all around her, remnants of a fear beyond bearing, she awoke to the reality of her nightmare. Her eyes opened and quickly adjusted to the semidarkness around her.
“Mommy!” Eve’s concerned cry prompted Mercy into immediate action. Telepathically, she called her child to her, and within seconds she rose from the bed and took her daughter into her protective embrace.
“What’s wrong, Mother?” Eve asked. “You mustn’t be afraid.”
The moment Mercy had prayed would never come was here, descending upon them like an evil plague from the depths of hell. Judah Ansara, a true prince of darkness, stood hovering over her and Eve, his icy gray eyes staring at her, questioning her, demanding answers.
“Sidonia?” Mercy said, fearing that Judah had disposed of her beloved nanny.
“Oh!” Eve gasped, then eased out of Mercy’s arms, turned and waved her hand.
Mercy followed her child’s line of vision to where Sidonia’s body came to life, having been released from its immobile state. “Eve, did you…?”
“I’m sorry, Mother, but Sidonia didn’t want me to meet my daddy. She tried to stop me from talking to him.”
Mercy’s gaze reconnected with Judah’s. Those cold eyes shimmered with hot anger.
She is mine! Judah’s three unspoken words filled the room, expanding, exploding, shaking the walls and windows.
“Stop!” Mercy cried, shoving Eve behind her. “Your rage accomplishes nothing.”
Judah grabbed Mercy by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her flesh. When Mercy whimpered in pain, Eve reached up and placed her hand on Judah’s arm.
“You must be gentle with my mother. I know you don’t want to hurt her.”
Judah’s tenacious hold loosened as he glanced from Mercy’s face to Eve’s, and then back to Mercy. “I won’t harm your mother.” He glanced over at Sidonia, who glared at him with bitter hatred. “Go with your nanny, child. I need to speak to your mother alone.”
“But I don’t want to—” Eve whined.
Do as I tell you to do. Mercy heard the silent message Judah issued to Eve and realized that he instinctively knew Eve would hear his thoughts.
Eve looked to her mother. Mercy nodded. “Go with Sidonia. Let her put you to bed. You and I will talk in the morning.”
Eve kissed Mercy on the cheek. “Good night, Mother.” Then she tugged on Judah’s arm and motioned for him to bend over, which he did after releasing his hold on Mercy. Eve kissed his cheek, too. “Good night, Daddy.”
Neither Mercy nor Judah spoke until Sidonia took Eve away and closed the bedroom door behind them.
The moment they were alone, Judah turned on Mercy. “The child is mine?”
Mercy stood and faced her greatest fear—her child’s father. “Eve is mine. She is Raintree.”
“Yes, she is Raintree,” Judah replied. “But she is more. She told me so herself.”
“Eve has great power that she is far too young to understand. Telling herself that she is more than Raintree helps explain these things to her so that her child’s mind can accept them.”
“Do you deny that she is mine?”
“I neither deny nor confirm—”
“She knew me instantly,” Judah said.
Was there any way she could lie to this man and convince him that Eve was not his? For nearly seven years, since the moment she conceived Judah Ansara’s child, she had kept that knowledge hidden from him and from the entire world, even from her own brothers. Only Sidonia knew the truth of Eve’s paternity. Until now.
“What are you doing here on Raintree land?” Mercy asked.
He eyed her speculatively. “You don’t remember?”
Unsure about what he meant, she didn’t respond as she sorted through her last coherent thoughts before blacking out. It was not unusual for her to faint or to simply fall asleep after a healing, but in this instance, her restorative sleep had been far deeper than normal.
She recalled the car accident and saving the sole survivor by removing her terrible pain, then transposing enough of her own strength and healing power to keep the woman alive.
Suddenly she felt the memory of a forceful grip around her neck, cutting off her air, choking her. Mercy gasped, her gaze shooting to Judah. Taking several calming breaths, she captured those frightening moments buried deep in her subconscious and realized that someone had tried to erase those memories.
“You didn’t want me to remember that someone tried to kill me.”
Judah simply glared at her.
“Do you want me to think it was you who tried to strangle me?” she said. “I know it wasn’t.”
He said nothing.
“You won’t allow me to remember my attacker. Why? And what were you doing so close to the Raintree home place at the very time it happened?”
“Coincidence.” His deep baritone rumbled the one word.
“No, I don’t believe you. You knew someone was going to…You came here to save me, didn’t you? But I don’t understand.” How would Judah have known her life was in danger? And why would he bother to come to the hills of North Carolina to save her, a Raintree princess?
“Why would I not save the mother of my child?”
“You didn’t know Eve existed. Not until you came here. Not until she introduced herself to you.”
“Why I came here is not important,” Judah said. “Not now. All that matters is the fact that you gave birth to my child and have kept her from me for six years. How could you have done that?”
Mercy laughed, the sound false and nervous. “Eve is my child. It doesn’t matter who her father is.” Oh, God, if only that were true. If only…
Judah growled, the sound as bestial as the man himself. No matter what, she could never allow herself to see him as anything other than what he was—an Ansara demon. It did not matter that even now, knowing him for who and what he was, she found herself drawn to him on a purely sexual level. He possessed a power over her that she could not deny. But she could—and would—resist.
Judah scanned Mercy from head to toe, his gaze appreciative and sensual.
“The protective spell you cast over Eve must be very powerful, one that takes a great deal of your strength to keep in place.”
Mercy shivered. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Eve. She is—”
“She is an Ansara.”
“Eve is a Raintree princess, the granddaughter of Dranir Michael, the daughter of Princess Mercy.”<
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“A rare and highly unique child,” Judah said. “There has been no mixing of the bloodlines for thousands of years, not since the first great battle when all Ansara and Raintree became sworn enemies. Any mixed-breed offspring have been disposed of before birth or as infants.”
“If there is one drop of decency in you, you will not claim her,” Mercy said. “If she is forced to choose between two heritages, it could destroy her. And you know, as well as I do, that your people would never accept her. They would try to kill her.”
Judah’s smile sent waves of terror through Mercy. “Then you admit that she is mine.”
“I admit nothing.”
Judah reached out and grabbed her by the back of her neck, his large hand clasping forcefully, his thick fingers threading through her hair. If she chose to do so, she could battle him here and now, both physically and mentally. But she had learned at a young age to choose her battles, to save her strength for the moments of greatest need. Standing her ground, neither resisting nor accepting his hold on her, Mercy faced her deadly enemy.
“When did you realize I was Ansara?” Judah asked.
“The moment I conceived your child,” she admitted.
His hold tightened as he brought her closer, then lowered his head until only a hairsbreadth separated his lips from hers. “That must have been the last time we had sex. If it had been before, any of the other times, you would have left me sooner.”
I didn’t leave you even then, the last time, when your seed took root within me and I knew that I would give birth to an Ansara. I stayed with you until you fell asleep, assisted by an ancient sleep spell that Sidonia had taught me. And when I knew you would not awaken for hours, I searched and found the mark of the Ansara on your neck, hidden by your long hair.
Judah brushed her lips with his. She sucked in a deep gulp of air.
“I knew you were Raintree from the moment I saw you,” he said. “I disregarded my better judgment, which told me to avoid you, that you were trouble. But I couldn’t resist you. You were the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.”
And I couldn’t resist you. I wanted you the way I’d never wanted another man. You were a stranger, and yet I gave myself to you.