Hey! Sorry for the delay I updating. It seems work and other obligations are out to steal my writing time! :( I will only be able to update once a week for the next couple of weeks at least. Thanks to those following this story and to those reviewing! You are awesome and definitely keep my muse and I motivated! Hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait! It's a pretty long chapter!


Chapter 6

Declan awoke to the sound of dripping water echoing in the cavern beneath Claira's building. Somehow, Lucian had convinced him to go to ground when all he wanted was to stay at Claira's side while she slept. Lucian had shown him the protective wards he'd placed both around Claira's apartment building and apartment. Even the room where she slept could not be breached without him allowing someone through. The elder Carpathian argued that both he and Redmund needed the replenishing sleep of their people if they hoped to keep his ward safe. Declan got the distinct feeling that though Lucian knew Claira was his lifemate, he wasn't ready to simply put her safety in his hands.

Still lying in the cool damp soil, he reached out to Claira's mind and found her still asleep. He was happy to see the barriers he'd erected in her mind to keep the night's events at bay remained. He'd worked meticulously to construct them at dawn as he lay there, wanting to ensure that these disturbing images didn't color her dreams. Taking a peak in her thoughts, he smiled. She was dreaming of him, dreams filled with desire and longing.

Rising from his resting place he noted the two empty holes where Redmund, Lucian and Jaxon had gone to ground. He wondered how long it had been since they'd risen and why they hadn't awoken him. He was beginning to feel that Lucian didn't find him worthy of Claira. There was a part of him that agreed. His lifemate had been attacked twice by vampires. Though he could argue that he hadn't been there at the time of the first attack, the same could not be said of last night's attack. His own emotions, his fear, had kept him from being there to protect Claira from the threat that he'd caused.

As he stood hunched in the small cavern, he willed the earth that clung to him off his clothing and body. Reaching his mind out, he sensed both Jaxon and Lucian upstairs in Claira's apartment, but not his brother. Worry seized his heart at the thought that Redmund had gone off in search of Ciprian. Redmund, you must wait for me brother. We will take him on together.

Waiting for his brother's response, Declan shifted into a fox and hurried through the passage to the small hole in the wall that led out into the sub-basement of the apartment building. Once he was through he shifted back to his true form and made his way to the heavy steel door. He emerged in the stairwell that led up to Claira's apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, anxious for his gaze to settle on her once again and reassure him that this was not all some elaborate dream. The thought that, only days before, he'd not even known of her existence, causing him to doubt his mind.

His hand hesitated on the doorknob troubled that his brother had not yet replied. What if he was indeed mad and created this whole scenario, including his brother's return? Enter, that you may put your weary mind at ease. He heard Lucian's clear invitation and a soft chuckle in his mind. Pushing through the door, he was greeted by Jaxon who was busy in the kitchen cooking something he assumed was for Claira.

"Soup," she offered, smiling his way. "All vegetable based and easy for her system to digest," she explained. "Since her system is kind of in limbo real food would make her sick."

He nodded in response, feeling a knot forming in his stomach. She was already in transition? He'd gleaned how the transformation process worked from his brother's memories. Didn't it require two exchanges before the transition truly began?

Last night was her second exchange, Lucian's voice again sounded in his mind. Declan did not like that the elder Carpathian had so firmly placed himself in his mind, but they had exchanged blood so that it might be so before they'd gone to ground. Declan had agreed to it, hoping to encourage trust from his lifemate's protector by opening himself up to his scrutiny. Yet now he wished he could be alone with his thoughts and doubts.

I do not understand, he replied through their shared mental pathway. I did not complete the exchange that first night. He looked questioningly at Lucian who was pacing the length of the small living room, holding a cellular telephone to his ear.

All will be revealed and explained. Without another word Lucian was gone from his mind, his full attention on the phone call he was making.

Declan turned back to Jaxon who offered him an understanding smile. "He's making arrangements for Claira's things to be put in storage," she explained with a soft chuckle. "He wanted to just leave everything here, but I let him know that wouldn't fly with Claira. She chose all this furniture herself, she won't want to leave it all behind just because she's completely infatuated."

"She is?"

"She's falling for you," Jaxon gave a little shrug, "same as I did when I first met Lucian. But there were still other things that mattered to me. Besides, from what I gathered you don't really have a home to set her up in, so these things will be helpful later."

Declan glanced around the small apartment and its furnishings. In the four hundred or so years since he'd left his homeland he hadn't considered such accoutrements necessary. A safe place to go to ground had been his only consideration for as long as he could remember.

"Maybe you should feed, too," she suggested, pulling his attention back to the present. "Redmund went out a little while ago. He said he wanted to be at full strength for when we travel back to our house with Claira later."

Declan considered this a moment. He knew there was a possibility his cousin would return with others to complete what he had started the night before and it made sense to be at his full strength. Yet the thought of spending another moment away from Claira tore at his heart.

"Lucian and I will be going out to feed once he's done with the arrangements for Claira," she offered as though she could sense his hesitation. I'm sure between us and Redmund us you can have enough to get you to your full strength as well." She nudged her head toward the back room. "She's still asleep. I bet she wouldn't mind waking to your face."

He slid quietly into the room, closing the door behind him offering some semblance of privacy though he knew the others could hear everything either way. He gazed at Claira's sleeping features in the soft light of a small lamp in the far corner of the room. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly parted, her lashes feathered against her cheeks. Moving to the armchair in the corner near the window he pulled it closer to the bedside and took a seat. He stifled the urge to caress her cheek, not wanting to wake her yet. Instead he took stock of her injuries from the night before and found them all fully healed. He studied the details of her face now, the rosy flush in her cheeks, the freckles littered across the bridge of her nose and her high cheek bones.

She sighed softly in her sleep, pulling his gaze to the soft pink of her lips. His mind wandered, remembering the feel of them against his that first night. Her kiss has been gentle and tentative, yet filled with yearning. Had she felt the pull of his soul to hers? He closed his eyes, recalling that first kiss. How she'd gazed longingly at his mouth, her fingers treading where her lips had not yet found the courage. How her hand had slipped into his hair as they'd kissed. He could feel his desire for her igniting at the memory of her touch.

"Did you sleep here?" Her raspy whisper pulled him from his thoughts. He shook his head as he opened his eyes. "You're still wearing the same clothes," she pointed out.

He glanced down at himself then back at her, meeting her gaze. "I haven't changed yet," he replied with a shrug, a smile playing at his lips that there was nothing left of the fear he'd seen in her eyes that first night. "I wanted to check on you first."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, her mouth twitching up at the corners. "So you were sitting there with your eyes closed, 'checking on me'." He simply smiled at her disbelief, earning him an exaggerated sigh and soft chuckle. They regarded each other for a long moment and as her gaze drifted to his mouth he touched her mind. Remaining an unnoticed shadow there, he could feel her happiness that he was still there. Her thoughts turned more provocative. Her eyes fluttered closed at images of their kisses turning urgent, igniting his simmering desire once more. He joined with her mind now, adding to these images some of his own. He imagined himself kissing her everywhere, searching out her most private places and setting her skin afire.

She drew a staggered breath, and he could feel her desire building, her body clenching with the need for his touch in more than just her mind. Her eyes snapped open and she struggled to rein in her raging desire as her cheeks flushed deep crimson. She licked her lips, biting at the bottom one and he could feel her pushing aside these dark desires. She schooled her features, offering him a nervous smile as he tried to understand why she would be embarrassed by such natural desires.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, attempting to offer her the normality she was trying so hard to regain.

"I feel fine – great actually…" her voice trailed off, a troubled frown tugging at her brow as she easily pushed past the barrier he'd placed around her memories of the night before. He could feel her horror as she replayed Ciprian's attack in her mind. She looked down at the tears in her shirt and blood stains. "Impossible," she breathed, looking up at him then back at her unblemished abdomen through the holes in the shirt. "H-how—" he watched her swallow and sensed her growing agitation. "How can I be perfectly fine?" she demanded, pushing quickly off the opposite side of the bed.

Declan circled the bed. Her distress was palpable, her breath coming in hiccupped gasps. He held out his hands to her, slowly approaching her as her frantic blue eyes searched his face for the answer. He felt her mind recoil from the truth she already knew, pushed far to the back of her mind where she refused to look. His hands were holding her arms now, worried as she began to shiver.

"How can I be – alive?" she demanded, her voice rising as tears gathered in her eyes. "I should be d-dead – or at least in the hospital!" Her breath was coming in shallow gasps now and he gripped her arms more tightly to keep her from collapsing.

Brother, I do not know what to do! He called out to Redmund. I am not skilled with such interactions.

Before his brother could respond, Lucian was there with Jaxon close behind. "Cistri," Lucian murmured softly, moving to her side and cupping her face so she was looking at him. Declan marveled at how Lucian managed to soothe her with one word. He felt a sense of calm wash through her mind and her breathing slowed to its normal rhythm. "All will be explained, little one. I give you my word."

Declan laced his arm around her waist and helped her to sit on the edge of the bed. He could still feel her agitation and fear but they were far removed now. He pulled her close as she leaned into his chest, crying softly into his shirt. "I don't understand what's happening to me," she murmured softly against the crook of his neck.

Lucian nodded at him. You must reassure your lifemate. Declan swallowed hard unsure what to say. His only real interaction with humans throughout his life was when he fed and truly there was not much interaction to speak of except to erase their memories of the event.

"Sívamet," he murmured, pulling away from her so that she could see his words. "I am here with you, Claira, and we will make sense of everything. You are my lifemate and I can do no other than to ensure your happiness." Her eyes searched his for a long moment, lacing her arms around his abdomen and crying softly his shirt again. He held her tightly to him, feeling her body slowly relax as her tears subsided.

After a few minutes, Jaxon stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Claira's shoulder. "Let's get you cleaned up and changed," she suggested when Claira looked up at her. Hesitantly, she untangled herself from Declan, who nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

He watched Jaxon lead her from the room. She gazed back at him a couple of times as though she were afraid he might not be there when she returned. He looked to Lucian when she was gone, sure that he found him lacking and unable to care for his own lifemate.

"You have been far removed from humans," Lucian stated, clapping Declan on the shoulder as he offered him an understanding smile. "It will be easier when the conversion is completed."


Claira felt numb. There was no other word for it. It was like she couldn't wrap her mind around what was going on anymore. Yet everything was there, all the answers were in her head but they couldn't possibly be true. Her mind flashed with the image of the man who'd attacked her the night before. His lips pulled back in a menacing grin, revealing dripping fangs. She shivered, remembering the flames flickering in his dark soulless eyes. Impossible, she thought gently shaking her head and pushing the image to the back of her mind. Instead, she tried to focus on Jaxon. The petite blond was looking at her expectantly and Claira knew she'd missed something. She'd been staring straight at Jaxon, yet she hadn't read a single word from her lips as she struggled to concentrate on the here and now.

"It'll all make sense soon, I promise." Jaxon's hand grazed Claira's cheek as she smiled, ever patient and understanding.

Claira just nodded, somehow reassured though she couldn't imagine any of this ever really making sense. They were in her bedroom. Jaxon sat her at the end of her bed and moved to search out something for her to wear. It was ridiculous to her that Jaxon should need to do that for her, but in the end she couldn't seem to focus her unsettled mind on such a mundane task. She gazed around the room, furnished and decorated just as she'd imagined it as though someone had plucked the image from her mind and made it come into being. A frown tugged at her brow when she noticed that Jaxon was rummaging through her two suitcases full of clothes rather than the drawers of her dresser. "Did you pack all my clothes?" she asked, glancing at the open closet door that revealed only a few empty hangers remained. "I'm only coming to stay with you and Lucian for a couple of days."

Jaxon paused in her search, though she didn't immediately look up at Claira. When she did she offered Claira an awkward smile. She looked as though she'd hoped to avoid this conversation. "With everything that's going on – Lucian and I thought it would be best—"

"What about what I think?"

"Claira, Sweetie, there's a – man – out there who tried to ki— hurt you very badly last night," she took a seat at Claira's side. "You'll be safer back at the house until he is caught and we're sure you're safe."

"And how long do you think that will take?" Claira sighed, knowing that in the end she would do as Lucian and Jaxon asked. For some reason she always did.

"I – I'm honestly not sure." Claira could feel Jaxon's growing unease as they spoke. Something was bothering her about the situation, like she felt torn. "Lucian, Declan and Redmund are going to try to get things dealt with as quickly as they can." Claira wanted to ask what things she meant, but then she already knew. She could feel their need to protect her, both Lucian and Declan.

"Why don't they go to the police?" Claira asked, fear edging its way into her voice at the thought of the two men putting themselves in harm's way to protect her. "They shouldn't be going after this guy by themselves."

"They are working with the police," Jaxon replied, her gaze shifting to the suitcase as she drew out two shirts. "I had Lucian call in a favor with one of my contacts here," she added, placing the pale blue shirt on Claira's lap and returning the other to the suitcase. "You remember Constable Berube, don't you?"

Claira nodded, she remembered Berube from not long after she and Scotty had been attacked. He and his partner had worked on trying to find their attacker, though the investigation had never gotten very far since both their witnesses couldn't remember anything helpful from that night. She got the distinct feeling that Jaxon was not being completely honest with her, but she didn't push. In all honesty she wasn't sure she wanted to know what she was leaving out. "I'm gonna take a shower," she declared simply, taking the clothes Jaxon had set out for her and moving to the bedroom door. Jaxon was quickly at her side, hovering. "I'm okay now," she assured and while she did feel less shaky physically, mentally, she was walking on eggshells in her own mind.

Claira stayed in the shower long after she'd finished washing. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander through the events of the past two nights. What in the world was going on? First, she meets Declan on the roof and kisses him out of nowhere and then panics and runs away. Declan, who just happens to be someone Lucian knew from back in Europe? It was just too much of a coincidence. Had Lucian sent Declan to watch over her that night? It was the only reasonable explanation Claira could come up with. Maybe he had Declan move into the building so he could watch over her without her knowing. It definitely fit with Lucian's overprotective ways. He hadn't wanted her to move out in the first place.

Then there was what happened last night. Her attacker's emaciated face flashed in her mind, his skin greying and brittle, his eyes black pits with flames dancing within their depths. She gasped her eyes snapping open as she covered her mouth to keep from crying out. She could still feel his cold skin against her face and the scent of decay as he leaned in close to speak to her. She stared down at her abdomen, her fingers grazing over the light pink scars that were almost faded. It was impossible, but she knew he'd inflicted the wounds less than twenty-four hours earlier. She could feel him slicing through her flesh and remembered watching as he licked the blood greedily from his clawed fingers. She sank down into the bathtub, hugging her knees to her chest, shivering despite the hot water pouring over her. How could she have healed so quickly? How could she have survived when she'd been so certain she was going to die?

When she emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair soaking the pale blue shirt she wore, she was still shivering. She padded quietly to her room and pulled on her favorite old hoody, before tying her hair up in a ponytail and taking one last deep breath in an attempt to hide her frayed nerves. She entered the living room to find only Declan, standing in her small kitchen scooping soup into a bowl. He'd changed clothes and his hair looked freshly combed. He glanced up at her with a smile that set warmth spreading through her body like she'd never experienced before. "Jaxon made this soup for you," he informed, circling the counter and moving to her side. His arm slid around her waist and she felt her body relax and tense all at once at his touch. "You should eat, Sívamet." He led her to one of the stools at the counter and waited until she'd sat before he took the stool next to her.

Claira stared at him a long moment, wetting her dry lips. "Th-thank you," she finally managed when the effects of his touch calmed enough to allow her mind to form coherent thoughts. What was it about this man that had her body overruling her mind? "It's just you and me?"

Declan nodded, nudging his head at her bowl. "Please, Sívamet, you must eat." His face was so serious, almost worried as he spoke. She complied, taking a spoonful of the flavorful soup just to ease his concern. "Jaxon and Lucian have gone to take care of some things before we take you to their house. They will return shortly."

"What does sívamet mean?" she asked after another couple of spoonfuls of soup. She glanced up at him, her breath quickening at the smile that tugged at his lips.

"It means 'dear one'," he explained, leaning in closer to her. "It is a term of – endearment; I believe your people call it." She nodded her understanding, unable to look away from him. His lips had her captivated as he spoke. It made it hard to concentrate on the words they were forming. "Eat, please Claira." He motioned to her bowl, his brows tugging together in concern. He stood up and rounded the counter to the kitchen.

When she'd finished the bowl he moved to fill it again, but she shook her head. "I'm full," she assured, moving to the living room. She took a seat on the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest. He sat next to her and she glanced over, wishing he were sitting closer. How was it that she felt such a need for proximity with a man she barely knew? She sat with her chin on her knees, studying him as he gazed out the window at the night sky.

"How is it that Lucian came to be your protector?" he asked, looking back at her and catching her watching him.

"W-well, he's my mother's cousin," she explained, feeling her cheeks flush at being caught staring. "When I was attacked a few years ago, he and Jaxon had me and my grandmother move in with them." She frowned, wondering why she'd mentioned the attack. She didn't bring it up with anyone, least of all people she barely knew. "They lived in a much safer part of Montreal and they had loads of room, so it made sense."

"He has done a masterful job implanting himself and Jaxon into your life," Declan murmured, looking impressed. "That he may protect you without question."

"Implanted himself?" Claira shook her head, sure she was misreading his lips. "He didn't implant himself in my life – he's my family."

"Dear one, you are human," Declan shook his head, and even in her mind he sounded like he was speaking to a child. "It is impossible that you, or your mother, are blood related to one of the oldest males of my race."

"Oldest of your race? Lucian is maybe forty. He's younger than my mom."

"He is much older than he appears, as am I. In fact my four hundred years pale to his millennia of existence."

"Right, so you're four hundred years old," Claira chuckled softly, shaking her head. "And Lucian is what – a thousand?" Declan nodded, amazingly straight faced. "Look, I appreciate you wanting to take my mind off – things, but the joke has gone far enough."

"I do not jest, Claira," he replied, taking her hand as he leaned in to study her more closely. "How amazing –he has you believing this so completely."

"So, if he's not my mother's cousin how do you explain me knowing him since I was a child?" she demanded, jerking her hand away from him. "I was a flower girl when he married Jaxon!"

"It is masterful work," Declan shook his head his face filled with admiration and Claira wished he would stop with this joke. "I am nowhere as skilled at panting false memories, especially something so elaborate."

"So, you're telling me Lucian brainwashed me to believe that I've known him since I was a child?" Claira pushed up from the couch, struggling to keep her voice down. "Not to mention that he did the same to my seventy year old grandmother, too."

"Very few Carpathians go to the lengths Lucian has to protect another's lifemate."

Claira shook her head, struggling to calm herself. Why was he continuing with this ridiculous joke? Didn't he realize it wasn't funny? Lucian and Jaxon were the only family had since she had no idea where her parents were or if they were still alive for that matter. How could he think trying to make her believe that the two people she trusted most in her life had been lying to her all along was funny? "This is crazy. You can't expect me to believe this. How would Lucian have done it? Does he have superpowers?"

"When a Carpathian takes the blood of a human we can erase, change, even create memories in that person's mind."

"So you, Lucian, Jaxon and your brother are not human and that you can all somehow control people's minds." She stared at Declan sure he had to be lying, but she felt no dishonesty from him. He was watching her closely, the worried crease returned to his brow. Instead she picked up from him was the same feelings as that first night. She felt his love and his need to protect her. Yet she felt his worry, too. Was he worried that she didn't believe him? She sighed, growing frustrated with the whole conversation. "Right, so you have mind control and you drink people's blood – oh and that's right – you all sleep during the day," Claira listed as she began to pace. "I know! You're all vampires!"

"No, Sívamet," Declan visibly flinched and she felt the hurt her accusation caused him. Then
he was on his feet, taking her by the arm to stop her pacing. "Vampires are soulless creatures who feed on the sadness and despair of others and who kill their victims." He led her back to the couch, his hand cupping her cheek. "What attacked you last night was a vampire. I swear to you none of us are such monsters. Carpathians value human life as much as our own people."

"Please stop," Claira whispered, closing her eyes so she wouldn't see if he spoke again. His hand slipped away from her face and she could feel his worry turning desperate. When she'd opened her eyes, he wasn't on the couch anymore. She glanced around, quickly finding him staring out the window. She studied at him a long moment, the defeated slouch of his shoulders as though this was something so important for her to believe.

If you cannot believe it, you can never accept me or what you must become to be with me, his voice murmured in her mind though his back remained turned to her. She gasped her hand flying to her mouth. How could she hear him if she couldn't see him speaking? I have taken your blood, Claira. It is easy for me to communicate with you this way. He spoke again, though he still would not look at her and she could feel his fear. He was afraid of her reaction to this, afraid of seeing the terrified look she'd given him that first night before she'd run away. I have said the sacred words – we are bound for eternity.

"You're in my mind?" He nodded without turning to her. Her breath quickened he was in her mind, he could know her inner most thoughts. Would he make her believe him? Would he make her accept what he was telling her?

He turned to look at her, hurt etched across his face. "I would never force your acceptance."

"And I'm supposed to believe you?" she demanded, pushing up from the couch. "You tell me you're from some race of people who can get in people's heads and brainwash them and now you're in here," she gestured to her head. "And I'm supposed to believe you won't make me accept all this?"

I can only give you my word that I would never do such a thing. She felt a gentle push with his words, an attempt to calm her, but it only made her more convinced she couldn't trust his word.

"Stop doing that!" She shouted, her throat feeling raw. "Get out of my head! I don't want you in there!"

"I am sorry, Sívamet." He took a step to close the distance between them. "I am not gifted with interactions such as this. I wished only to—"

"S-stay away from me," she lifted her trembling hands protectively in front of her as she backed toward the door. "Just stay away from me and out of my head." Tears welled in her eyes. She needed to get out of the apartment and away from him – away from all of them.

Declan's face fell, his gaze dropping to the ground and shoulders slumping the way they had that first night on the roof. She took advantage and rushed the rest of the way to the door and hurried out into the stairwell. Pounding down the stairs, she didn't look back until she was in the entranceway. She pushed out the door into the cool night air. She moved to the small footbridge that crossed the canal and stopped halfway across. She glanced around her unsure where to go. Her first instinct was to run to Lucian and Jaxon when she was afraid like this, but that was no longer an option. She was alone and she had nowhere to go.

Leaning against the railing of the bridge, she closed her eyes. She went over her conversation with Declan. It was all true, she knew it was. But what did that mean for her? The only family she had was not her family at all. As her breathing calmed, her mind cleared. They'd lied to her, but why? To what end? They hadn't tricked her out of some nonexistent inheritance. If anything she'd benefited from their ruse, not them.

She turned back to the building. She could see Declan standing at the entrance, watching her, waiting for her to return. He knew as well as she did that she had nowhere else to go. With a deep breath she began to slowly walk back unable to meet his gaze for more than a moment before she had to look away.

Sívamet! Declan's alarmed voice called out to her, pulling her gaze to him. He was rushing toward her, moving faster than humanly possible. Before she could turn to see what had him so panicked she felt someone's arms circle her waist and smelled the putrid stench she could never forget. She screamed as she was jerked from the ground, clawed fingers digging into her side and the arm pinning her against the vampire's chest. Declan leapt from the ground his arms outstretched. He came impossibly close to capturing her hands and she reached desperately for him. "Claira!" he cried out as two other vampires dove at him and tackled him to the ground. I will come for you, dear one, he called out to her mind.


Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated! Expect chapter 7 next Saturday or Sunday the latest!