Read Online Dark Blood by Christine Feehan - Free Book Online Page A

him. . . .
    His eyes flew open, narrowed at her.
Rich minerals? Rejuvenating soil? Woman, what do you think you’re doing? I’m Lycan, not Carpathian. I would never think in those terms.
    Her soft laughter brushed through his mind.
It was worth a try. And you are both.
    He wanted to kiss her. The thought came out of nowhere. He was staring up at her, at the laughter in her eyes and her full lips that were slightly parted, and all he could think about was tasting her. That wild honey and cinnamon mixture.
    He had taken her with him when he’d left the Carpathian Mountains for the forests of Russia. She hadn’t known it of course. That was his secret, that need to relive that moment he first saw her, when he’d first held her in his arms and replay it over and over in his mind. Her body had moved against his and he knew there would never be another woman in his life.
    He had no idea of lifemates, but he did know the real thing when he felt it. He had been alive a long time and he had never wanted a woman for himself—until Branislava. There had been something so mysterious and elusive about her. She had intrigued him from the moment he saw her, and after the music stopped and he’d had to let her go, she was forever imprinted on his body.
    I have often regretted that I did not kiss you that evening,
Branislava admitted.
    He could have groaned aloud. Of course she was reading his thoughts.
Branka, you’re far too innocent for a man like me. You can’t go around saying things like that to me when we have company. Wait until we’re alone.
    Her fingers were back in his hair, her touch sending little darts of fire through his body—the body that shouldn’t have been able to feel anything but pain.
    I like that you call me Branka when everyone else calls me Bronnie.
    He smiled at her.
You will always be Branka to me. Or mon chaton féroce.
    She raised her eyebrow at him.
I can be fierce, but a kitten? And French? That is French, isn’t it? How many languages do you speak?
    He grinned at her, enjoying their moment together.
Claws. Spitting. Mine. And about ten very well and I can get by in five others. Well, now eleven if you count Carpathian.
    She rolled her eyes, but she didn’t claw or spit at him, which he took as a victory.
    “When you two are done flirting with each other, you might consider the answer to our question,” Fen said.
    “What question?” Zev asked.
    “Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought. You’re so wrapped up in your woman that your brain short-circuited.”
    Dimitri gave a little snort of derision. “Where can we find the all-important information on your grandmother and mother, that’s the question. Whether Skyler, Tatijana and Bronnie can have children if they’re mixed blood like we are.”
    “Why would they be mixed blood?”
    Fen groaned. “You’ve really lost it, wolf man. Totally.”
    “Did you just call me ‘wolf man’?” Zev demanded. “I’m going to get up and kick your ass.”
    “Fen.” Tatijana slipped into the room. “What in the world are you doing provoking Zev at a time like this? Can’t you see he’s ill?”
    Zev groaned dramatically and placed a hand over his stomach.
    Tatijana shot Fen a glare and hurried over to him. She hugged her sister. “How is he?”
How are you? I’ve been so worried.
    “He needs to rest and go to ground again,” Branislava answered aloud.
I know, Tatijana
.
I’m sorry I worried you. He was slipping away and I had to stay focused on him.
    Don’t feel bad. If it was Fen I would have done the same. You told me he was your lifemate and I believed you, although I have no idea how.
    Zev managed another very real-sounding moan, which earned Fen a dark glare from both women.
    “Are you kidding me?” Fen said. “Can’t you see he’s faking it?”
    Dimitri snickered at his brother.
Now you’ve done it. The man’s a hero with blood dripping all over the floor, a hole the size of Texas in his gut and you’re mocking his pain