by Linda Howard
I loved you.
Even now, Mercy found it difficult to admit the complete truth, because it was so heinous. The very thought that she had fallen in love with an Ansara was an abomination, a betrayal of her people, an unforgivable treachery.
And if Dante and Gideon ever learned that their beloved niece was half Ansara…
“You were a delightful amusement,” Judah told her, his breath hot against her lips. “But don’t think that I’ve given you a second thought in the past seven years. You were nothing to me then, and are nothing to me now. But Eve…”
Fear boiled fiercely within Mercy, a mother’s protective fear for her child. “The only way you can claim Eve is to kill me.”
“I could kill you as easily as I squash an insect beneath my feet.”
His words proclaimed indifference, but his actions spoke a different language. Judah took Mercy’s mouth in a possessive, conquering kiss that startled her and yet stirred to life the hunger she had known only for this man. She tried to resist him but found herself powerless. Not against his strength, but against her own need.
How could she want him, knowing who he was?
When they were both breathless and aroused, Judah ended the kiss and lifted his head. “You’re still mine, aren’t you?” He sneered. “I could lay you down here and now and take you, and you wouldn’t protest.”
Mercy jerked away from him, humiliated by her own actions.
“I am Raintree. Eve is Raintree,” Mercy said. “You cannot claim either of us.”
Judah ran his index finger over Mercy’s lips, down her chin and throat, pausing in the center of her chest, between her breasts. “You are of no importance. You were nothing more than a vessel to carry my child. But Eve is very important to me. She is Ansara, and when the time is right, I will claim her.”
Mercy sensed a frightening truth when she caught a momentary glimpse into Judah’s mind. The instant he realized she had invaded his thoughts, he cloaked them entirely, shutting her out. But not before she saw her own death. Death at the hands of her child’s father.
“If you kill me, Dante and Gideon—”
“Dante and Gideon are the least of my worries at the moment.”
Puzzled by his statement, she glowered at him. “If you harm me, if you try to take Eve, my brothers will fight you to the death.”
“The time is not right for others to know of Eve’s existence.” He grasped Mercy’s shoulders and shook her none too gently. “I have an enemy who would kill Eve if he knew she was my child. And many others who would take her life simply because she is a mixed-breed.”
With his hands on Mercy’s body, he passed currents from within him into her, a physical and mental awareness that he could not prevent.
“The protective cloak I’ve kept around Eve since before she was born has been penetrated,” Mercy said. “This was your doing. If you truly wish to keep her safe, you have to help me form a stronger barrier around her. Now that she is aware of you and you of her, it will take both of us to protect her. Will you help me?”
Do you actually trust me to protect her?” Judah ran his hands up and down Mercy’s arms, then released her. “After all, she is half Raintree and the Ansara have sworn an oath to destroy such children.”
“She is also half Ansara, and yet I love her with all my heart and would protect her with my own life.”
“What makes you think that I would do the same?”
Mercy saw past the exterior steel crust to the center of Judah’s soul. Not a soft or pliable soul, not one easily touched by the pain and suffering of others, but a male soul. Strong, fierce, loyal, protective and possessive. He had been unable to hide that truth from her seven years ago, and he still could not.
“Blood calls to blood,” Mercy said. “It is true of mankind, but even truer of the Raintree and the Ansara.”
“If you knew I wouldn’t harm Eve, why keep her a secret from me all these years?”
Mercy hesitated. She felt Judah probing, trying to invade her thoughts again.
“I was afraid that you would try to take her from me,” she said. “I couldn’t allow that. If you had tried—if you try now—Dante and Gideon will join forces with me and stop you from taking her.”
“They might try, but…”
Mercy realized that Judah had seen beyond the obvious.
Judah’s lips curved downward into a speculative frown. “Dante and Gideon don’t know that Eve is Ansara, do they? You were afraid of how they would react, perhaps afraid that they would kill her.”
“No! My brothers would never harm Eve. The Raintree do not murder innocent children.”
“Then who were you protecting by hiding the truth from them?”
“I had hoped to protect Eve from the truth,” Mercy said. “I should have known that she would soon realize she was more than Raintree, and that eventually she would have sought you out and found you.”
“Blood calls to blood,” Judah repeated her words.
“Then we are in agreement—we will protect Eve.”
“We will never be in agreement,” he said. “But for the time being, yes, I will help you keep your secret. It will be difficult, now that Eve knows I am her father. Because she is so young, she doesn’t have complete command of her powers, and that alone puts her in danger. Since she is unable to control her powers, we must do it for her. For her own protection.”
“You are welcome to try. I’ve managed to subdue her powers from time to time, to keep them partially under control, but…” She hesitated to admit the truth to this man, this Ansara who could try to use their daughter’s unparalleled gifts against the Raintree.
“Is her power that great?” he asked.
Mercy kept silent, afraid she had already said too much.
“Eve has equal measures of Ansara and Raintree power,” Judah said in astonishment. “She inherited your powers and mine, didn’t she? My God, do you realize…? Our child possesses more power than anyone in either clan.”
“More than you or I.” Mercy bowed her head and silently uttered an ancient incantation.
Judah grabbed her. She gasped, startled by his actions, not realizing that he had somehow figured out what she was doing.
“It won’t work,” he told her. “You cannot use your magic on me. Surely you know I won’t allow you to—”
Mercy focused, sending a sharp mental blow to Judah’s body, hitting him square in the stomach. He groaned as the shock wave hit him, then narrowed his gaze, burning through the shield around Mercy, retaliating with a searing pain that radiated from her belly. She cried out, then vanquished the fire inside her.
“Do you truly believe you are as strong as I am, that you are capable of defeating me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He stared at her, apparently skeptical, unable to believe that her power not only equaled his but might surpass it. As they stood there glaring at each other, neither backing down nor escalating the battle, Judah studied her intently.
“You’re different,” he told her. “And it’s more than that you’ve matured into the premiere empath that you are today. That was always your destiny.”
She held her breath, realizing that he was on the verge of understanding a truth that even she herself had not wanted to accept.
“Having my child changed you,” Judah said. “Giving birth to Eve increased your powers. You, too, are more than Raintree, aren’t you?”
“No, I am not—”
“Quiet!” Judah issued the order in a commanding manner. “Control your tongue and your thoughts.”
“Why? Tell me—what are you so afraid of? Is this enemy of yours powerful enough to threaten your very life?”
Judah ruled the Ansara, his power unequaled by any other, not even his half brother. He, not Cael, was the superior, the mightiest of all Ansara, but he could control his brother only to a certain extent and only for brief periods of time. Cael was at this very moment fighting the spell that had quieted his telepathic
abilities. His fiendish curses were bombarding Judah, who knew he could not deal with Mercy Raintree and Cael Ansara at the same time. Both were powerful creatures, each his enemy.
Cael’s thoughts converged into a jumbled mass of hysteria and rage, but as he fought Judah’s spell, he revealed more of his inner self than he realized. Cael was determined to escalate the impending war, the final Ansara and Raintree battle, and he had set events into motion that could not be stopped.
Judah’s head pounded with the knowledge of his brother’s treachery—not only against himself but against the entire tribe. The Ansara were not ready for the final battle. Not yet. If Cael forced them to fight now, they could be defeated. And this time, they could not count on the Raintrees’ benevolence. Two hundred years ago the Raintree had allowed a handful of Ansara to live, one the youngest daughter of the old Dranir. It was through her—Dranira Melisande—that the royal bloodline had survived.
“Judah?” Mercy called his name again.
“Silence!”
Do not issue me orders, she told him telepathically.
If you wish to keep your child safe, protect not only your spoken words but your thoughts, Judah warned her.
She stared at him but said nothing. Then he felt a shield lift between them. Even if Mercy knew nothing of Cael, she understood that someone—other than Judah—posed a threat to Eve.
Chapter 4
“That beast is not staying the night here at the sanctuary,” Sidonia said vehemently. “You cannot allow it.”
“He is staying,” Mercy replied. “Until we can decide how best to protect Eve.”
Sidonia grabbed Mercy’s arm. “He’s the one you need to protect her from. He is an Ansara, the vilest creature on earth. Pure evil.”
“Hush up,” Mercy warned.
“I don’t care if he hears me.” Scrunching her wrinkled face into a frown, Sidonia spat on the floor.
“I don’t want Eve to hear you. She knows Judah is her father.”
“Poor little lamb.” Sidonia adored Eve, would do anything for her, but she feared for the child because of her father’s blood. She vigilantly watched for signs of the struggle between good and evil within Eve.
Mercy sighed heavily. “Judah will not go away meekly, and I’m afraid that I can’t force him to leave, not as long as Eve wishes him to stay. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I understand only too well—the father’s and daughter’s combined powers are greater than yours. And because Eve’s powers are untrained, she could be dangerous without meaning to be.”
Mercy nodded, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Judah is concerned about a man who’s his enemy, someone who isn’t a Raintree, a man who would kill Eve if he knew of her existence. I don’t know who this man is, but I’m certain he is another Ansara.”
“We should have wiped their kind from the face of the earth two hundred years ago when we had the chance. Old Dranir Dante made a deadly mistake in allowing even a handful of Ansara to live.”
“All that is ancient history.”
“Humph.” Sidonia glared at Mercy. “Why did Judah Ansara come here? And why were you with him tonight?”
“I don’t know why he came to North Carolina. And as for my being with him—I don’t remember everything, only that someone tried to kill me, and Judah saved me.”
“Why would an Ansara save a Raintree’s life?” Sidonia eyed her suspiciously. “You haven’t had any contact with him since you conceived Eve, have you?”
“Of course not!”
“Hmm…There is more to this than meets the eye. I think you should contact Dante and tell him that an Ansara has shown up here at the sanctuary, that he was able to cross the boundaries of protection.”
“Dante will want to know how that was possible.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“I can’t tell him that it might have been because of Eve…. because she’s half Ansara.”
“You have to do what is necessary,” Sidonia told Mercy.
“It’s for me to decide what that is.”
“That Ansara poses a threat to all of us, all who are Raintree.”
“Judah poses a threat to no one but Eve,” Mercy said. “He’s a single Ansara, one man. What could he possibly do to harm our entire clan?”
“Call Dante.”
“No.”
“It’s past time that you told your brothers the truth about Eve.”
“No. And you won’t call Dante. Do you hear me?
Sidonia nodded. “This man tricked you once, took you to his bed and gave you his child. Don’t let him fool you again.”
“I didn’t know he was Ansara then. Now I do.”
“Seven years ago, he wanted your virginity. Now he wants something far more precious. He wants your child.”
“She’s his child, too, as much as I wish she were not.”
“I believe he knew about Eve before he came here,” Sidonia said. “It’s the only explanation for him coming to you after all these years. Is it possible that somehow subconsciously you…?”
“No! I’ve shielded myself from Judah, just as I have shielded Eve.”
“You did not shield either of you when you were giving birth to Eve. You wanted him there with you. You kept calling for him.”
Mercy glanced away, then turned her back on Sidonia.
Sidonia walked up beside Mercy and draped her thin arm around Mercy’s shoulders. “I did my best to protect you and your child that night, because you couldn’t. And if for any reason you cannot protect the two of you from him now, you must allow me to contact Dante.”
“Please, go to bed and get some sleep. I need to be alone. I need time to think.”
Sidonia patted Mercy on the back with tender affection. She had no children of her own and loved the royal siblings as if they were her grandchildren. As much as she loved Dante and Gideon, Mercy had always been her favorite. She had been a beautiful child. with the disposition of an angel. Even as a little girl, she had possessed a heart filled with goodness and kindness. And by the age of six—the age Eve was now—Mercy’s abilities as an empath had been evident.
“I’ll do as you ask,” Sidonia said. “But be careful. You can’t allow your heart to rule your head.”
She left Mercy alone. But she didn’t go to her room. Instead, she checked on Eve. The little princess lay in her antique canopy bed, her golden curls shimmering against the white embroidered pillowcase, highlighted by moonbeams streaming through the windows. Asleep, Eve was all innocence. Awake, she was a delightful little imp.
Mischievousness is not evil, Sidonia reminded herself.
My precious darling. You must be protected. Your mother would die to keep you safe. And so would I. We have safeguarded the secret of your paternity since you were born, praying that neither you nor your father would ever learn the truth. But now that both of you know, now that Judah Ansara has come to claim you, I fear not only for your safety, but for the safety of our people. And your mother seems to have a peculiar weakness for this Ansara man that makes her vulnerable to him.
Sidonia touched the sleeping child’s cheek as she recalled the night Eve was born. Mercy had requested that no one other than Sidonia be present, acquiring a pledge of complete secrecy from Sidonia before she went into labor.
Eve had come into the world howling, as if proclaiming loud and clear, “I’m here!” Round and fat and pink, with puffs of white-blonde hair and the hereditary green eyes, Eve was a perfect little Raintree. Except for the birthmark on her head, just above the uppermost tip of her spine. An indigo blue crescent moon. The mark of the Ansara.
Mercy had grasped Sidonia’s hand that night and looked at her pleadingly. “You must never tell anyone. No one can know that my baby’s father is Ansara.”
“How is this possible? You wouldn’t knowingly give yourself to one of those demons.”
“I didn’t know Judah was Ansara until…not until I had conceived.”
“You cal
led for him when you were in labor. Even knowing what he is, you still long for him.”
Mercy had glanced away, tears in her eyes.
It was then that Sidonia knew Mercy loved her child’s father.
God help her.
Mercy sensed Judah’s presence. Not near her, but close. Outside.
She crossed the room, drew back the lace curtain on her window and stared down at the courtyard below. Judah stood there on the stone terrace, in the moonlight, rigid as a statue, his face and body in shadowed silhouette. He had released his hair, letting it fall about his shoulders, as free and wild as the man himself. He was savagely handsome, and exuded an aura of strength and masculinity that no woman could resist.
Once she had been unable to resist. And for the brief span of a day and a night, she had believed his lies, had surrendered to his charm, had given herself freely and completely.
For Eve’s sake, she had hoped she would never see Judah again. And for her own sake, also. As much as she despised him, she didn’t hate him. Hating him would be like hating a part of Eve.
Even though she realized that he still possessed some kind of sexual hold over her, she knew Judah was her enemy. And even though he was Eve’s father, he was Eve’s enemy, too. Hadn’t the Ansara been the ones to issue a decree that any child born of a Raintree/Ansara union would be put to death? No half-breeds allowed.
Had Judah actually come here to kill Eve?
No, that wasn’t possible, was it? He had been genuinely shocked to learn of Eve’s existence.
But now that he knew…
It didn’t matter what he knew. He was only one Ansara, albeit a seemingly powerful wizard. But Mercy possessed equal power, didn’t she? And Sidonia was not without powers, as were several Raintree now visiting the home place and staying in the surrounding cottages. There was no need to call in Dante or Gideon. If necessary, she could enlist Sidonia and the others to help her vanquish Judah…if he truly posed a threat to Eve.
If?
Was there really any doubt that Judah was a major problem? He would either claim Eve or kill her. Neither was acceptable.