Dark Nights - By Christine Feehan Page 0,15

territory. An unexplored ice cave was a disaster waiting to happen for anyone not paying attention to what they were doing.

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes, taking in great gulps of air, trying to find a balance. She couldn’t risk the lives of her brother and sister. She knew they’d come exploring with her because they were concerned about her. She was just as worried as they were for her sanity.

Joie. You must listen to me. You and your siblings are in mortal danger. There is evil here and you must leave before it is too late.

She drew in her breath sharply. There he was again—her mythical man. His voice was commanding. Firm. His tone held absolute conviction. But it also held pain. He was somewhere down below her suffering. She could feel him close to her. He needed her, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He needed her. She had been on rescue teams many times, even led a few herself, but this was different. Whatever his injuries, they hadn’t been sustained in a climbing accident.

His fear for her—for all of them—beat at her, impossible to ignore. Joie sat on the edge of the precipice, staring down into the black abyss. The walls of ice belled outward away from any rope, creating a free rappel. It would be difficult to slow down. They’d have to work to control speed on their descent on an ice-slick rope. Jubal and she both were expert at handling a descent bobbin, but Gabrielle might have a little more trouble. She didn’t look up when her brother and sister joined her.

Jubal rested his hands on her shoulders. He took a long slow look around the large chamber, shining his light up along the vaulted ceilings and studying the edges of the abyss to assess their safety should they choose to make the descent.

“Joie,” he said, as gently as possible. “You’re going to have to talk to us. We have to know what’s going on with you. Exploring caves is something we all enjoy together, we have for a lot of years, since Mom and Dad rigged harnesses for us when we were toddlers. But this isn’t fun. It isn’t even safe and I think you know that. We’re willing to follow you and help you any way we can, but we have to understand what’s going on.”

Gabrielle sat cautiously beside her and took her hand. “So tell us. We’ll help. We always stick together. There’s no need to hide anything from us.”

There was a small silence. Finally Joie sighed, her shoulders sagging. She had to tell someone—and besides—she owed them an explanation. “Does insanity run in the family?” Joie continued to stare down into the well of darkness. “Because if it does, someone should have warned us.”

“You think you’re insane?” Jubal struggled to understand. Joie was the one who laughed all the time, who found humor in everything. She lit up the world with her smile, and she certainly never seemed to suffer from depression.

“I hear voices. Well . . .” she hedged, “a voice. One voice. Mostly at night or in the early morning hours. We have conversations. Long conversations. Sometimes very intense and sometimes humorous.” She felt the color rise beneath her skin and was grateful it was dark in the gallery. “Sometimes sexy. I find myself staying up all night just to be able to hear his voice and spend time with him.” She shrugged her shoulders. “He even has a name. Traian Trigovise. How could I think up a name like that? I’ve never even heard of a name like that. He has an accent—a European, very sexy accent. He’d old world and charming and I can’t stop obsessing over him.”

Gabrielle tightened her fingers around Joie’s hand. “When did this start? When did you first hear this voice?”

Joie shrugged, remaining silent. Neither Jubal nor Gabrielle spoke, waiting her out. Finally she sighed again, hating to admit when the voice had first begun. She knew what they would think, but to her, he was real and he was in trouble. She had to find him.

“When I was shot in Austria. You know how much I hate hospitals. When they took me there, I did my little disappearing act.” She looked at her brother and sister briefly and then away again. “It isn’t as if I didn’t consider that I was dreaming when I first saw him—you know feeling the effects of the anesthesia, but it’s so much more

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