Christine Feehan - Dark Curse 19

At the bottom of the steps leading to the inn, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. «No, I told you I wouldn't. You look pale, though. If you can manage to get some broth down, do so. If not, Lara, we cannot wait much longer to convert you.»

She moistened her lips. «I have avoidance issues, I think. When I don't want to think about something, I just put it out of my mind and pretend it will go away. I like being mage. I rely on being mage.»

«Mage blood aids in casting and learning, but Carpathian blood does as well. Our two species were intertwined for centuries, Lara. Xavier came up with the safeguards, but in the end Carpathians improved on them. Mages had longevity, so did lycanthrope, but even mortal wounds could sometimes be healed by Carpathians, leading others to believe our species is immortal. But we can be killed.»

She tilted her head, facing her worst fear. «And that's what all the experiments on Razvan are about, aren't they? It's the reason Xavier has kept him alive. He's trying to find a way to kill Carpathians.»

Nicolas held her close to him. «I am afraid of that, yes.»

«Then if there is a chance he's alive, Nicolas, we have to find the evidence in the ice caves. I owe him that.»

He tipped her face up and kissed her gently. «I will only be gone a couple of hours. Stay in the inn with the innkeeper and wait for me.»

Lara nodded and with reluctance, left his side, stepping onto the first stair. Standing there in the dark, she watched him go-a tall, handsome man striding down the walkway, long coat swirling around his legs, his silky hair flying behind him-and her heart hammered out a rhythm of love.

He shimmered, his formidable physique nearly transparent and then he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness. She stood there listening to the night, hearing so many things she hadn't heard before. She saw differently, and the night took on a special beauty. She enjoyed just standing there, drinking it in, the solitude, the peace, with the murmur of life going on behind the scenes.

A few minutes later, Lara pushed open the door to the inn and slipped inside. It was warm and cozy, the open beams giving the inn a sense of space, the fireplace giving the room a homey feel. Slavica, the innkeeper, greeted her with a smile.

«I was hoping to see you. How are you?»

Lara was aware that few villagers were aware of the Carpathian people. Of course there were rumors, old legends whispered around a fire at night, but few modern people believed the old tales. She had heard that Mikhail Dubrinsky and the innkeeper's family went back years, but she didn't want to make the mistake of drawing too much attention to herself. She smiled and nodded. «I wanted to check on my friends. Have they been down at all?»

Slavica shook her head. «I called them to see if they wanted me to bring them food, but they refused, so I've left them alone.»

«Neither, of them has been down to eat? Not even Gerald?» Lara frowned. Both men normally had hearty appetites. «Did Gregori check on them?»

«Early last night, your friend Nicolas came and then much later Gregori stopped by. He knocked, but they were already asleep. He told me he'd be back some time this evening.»

«Did you ask them if they wanted food tonight?»

«Each meal we've asked and they've declined.»

Lara was very uneasy with Slavica's answer. Terry might not feel like having food, but Gerald should be starving. «I'm going to check on them.» She crossed to the stairs and began to climb, Slavica keeping pace.

«Would you like me to go with you?»

Lara bit down on her bottom lip. Her apprehension grew.Nicolas? I'm here at the inn, but when I asked Slavica about Terry and Gerald she said . . . What could she say? They'd refused a couple of meals. It was very possible Gerald would turn down one meal, but three? More than three?

Wait for me. I am not far from you and I will come back.

She felt silly standing at the top of the stairs facing the hall with the innkeeper looking at her as if she

wasn't quite bright.

«What's wrong?» Slavica asked.

«Nothing. I think I forgot my key.» Color rose as she told the ridiculous lie. She rubbed her palm over her left side, down low. The spot burned a little.

«Won't they let you in if you knock?» Slavica asked, moving briskly down the hall toward the door.

Lara dragged her feet. «Maybe I'll wait for Nicolas. He was going to stop by and Terry and Gerald will want to see him.»

Slavica started to turn back toward her, but stopped abruptly, wrinkling her nose. «What is that terrible smell?»

A cold finger of fear raced down Lara's spine. «Slavica, come away from there,» she said softly. Her side burned hotter, that small telltale dragon that warned her when the taint of evil was close. She held out her hand, lowering her voice even more. «Hurry. Right now.»

Slavica reacted to the urgency in her voice, not stopping to ask questions, but hurrying back toward Lara. Lara caught her arm and yanked, an instinctive, primal gesture, nearly throwing the innkeeper onto the top of the stairs. It saved Slavica's life.

The door splintered outward, shooting spears of sharpened wood into the hall where Slavica had been standing. Gerald emerged, his face twisted into a grotesque mask. Blood tracked like tears from his eyes and trickled from his nose and mouth. He tore at his chest with his fingernails, gouging trails of flesh in madness.

Horrified, Lara stepped in front of Slavica. «Get downstairs. Don't let your other guests up here. He's infected.»

He was deranged. The madness in his eyes told her that. He looked around him with a blank stare until he spotted them-spotted her. At first she thought he recognized her, but then he sniffed the air like a dog.

She reached to her belt to find the comforting hilt of her knife with trembling fingers. «Go, Slavica. I don't know if I can stop him.»

Gerald growled and hissed, his eyes glowing red-hot. He turned toward her, stumbled and raked his fingers along the wall, gouging huge chunks of wood from the polished surface. Her heart jumped.

Nicolas. Now would be a great time for you to show up. You know all that crap about women fighting vampires? I'm on your side.

This was her friend. She didn't want him dead. She wanted him fixed. When Terry had ripped out the snake's head, blood had splashed all over the car. Gerald must have had an open wound somewhere and parasites had entered. She hadn't thought to have the healer check him, she'd been so disoriented from that long-forgotten foul stench. The odor permeated Gerald. The infection had spread rapidly or…

Her stomach lurched. She moistened her lips. «Gerald? Where's Terry?»

Gerald lumbered toward her, his steps jerky and plodding. His head tilted to one side, a cunning, animalistic expression crossed his face. «Worthless traitor,» he hissed.

Spittle sprayed into the hall and she couldn't help but follow the droplets with her gaze, fearing the tiny parasites would be strewn all over the floors and the entire inn would be infected. She had visions of zombies breaking through walls and eating people.

Slavica caught her arm and tugged, slowly backing down the stairs. Lara didn't want to be on the staircase, but she didn't have a lot of fighting room.

Gerald wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air more. Growls emerged from his throat, a rumbling challenge. The dragon mark burned hotter. She gripped the knife.

«Gerald!» She said his name sharply, trying to find the man inside the beast.

He blinked rapidly, tilting his head to one side, his body tensing. She gripped the knife harder and set herself on the balls of her feet. She couldn't let him get downstairs where many of Slavica's guests had gathered for dinner or drinks.