Christine Feehan: Dark Demon 16

Vikirnoff caught her wrist. «You know what I am.» He could read that she did. Few humans knew of their existence, not only for the protection of the Carpathian people, but also for the humans. If Slavica had knowledge of their species, she was under the protection of his prince. «Who are you?»

«I'm Slavica Ostojic. My mother's name was Kukic. And you are?»

Before answering he took a long, careful probe of her mind and was shocked to find she had a friendship with the prince of his people. He had heard rumors that Mikhail Dubrinksy had friends in the human world, but it was a rare occurrence to trust humans with the secrets of their species. «Vikirnoff Von Shrieder.» He gave his name reluctantly, unable to fully overcome his natural reticence. He believed in few words, keeping his own counsel and taking action when necessary. This was an unfamiliar situation and he was feeling his way.

«This inn has been in my family for a hundred years. Mikhail Dubrinsky helped my mother to keep it when things in our country were complicated. He has always been a friend to our family and we have treasured that friendship.»

Vikirnoff had trouble focusing on the woman's explanation. Hunger nearly overwhelmed him. The heartbeat of the women reverberated through the room and echoed through his head. The scent of blood nearly overwhelmed him and every instinct he possessed demanded he feed to save his life and that of his lifemate.

Slavica bent close to him and his gaze immediately riveted on her pulse. It beckoned and seduced, that small throbbing rhythm. His mouth watered and his incisors lengthened. He leaned toward her neck for a long moment, needing. Simply needing. Abruptly he pulled back. He would not take from one under the protection of his prince. To shut out the terrible hunger, he tried to concentrate on his lifemate.

Natalya fussed with the curtains, but all the while her confused emotions battered at him. The room shifted and whirled as he listened to the ebb and flow of blood moving through veins. His every instinct was to protect her, to claim her. His body and soul roared for hers, yet she tried to stay closed off to him. Her scent drove him to a fever pitch.

«I must send word to the prince,» Slavica repeated. «He would be annoyed with me if I did not.»

Vikirnoff closed his burning eyes in weariness, realizing his injuries might prevent him from keeping Mikhail. Dubrinsky safe for some time. «The prince is in danger. Send him that message. It is far more important than worrying about my wounds. I will heal. I have had worse and will again no doubt.»

Hearing the tired note Vikirnoff couldn't hide, Natalya glanced at him. She had been studiously avoiding looking at him, but now she saw the lines of pain etched deeply in his face, the blood on his chest as Slavica cut away his shirt. Her heart seemed to skip a beat and then go crazy as she viewed his terrible injuries. She knew his back would have rake marks, long deep furrows where her claws had rent him from shoulder to waist. She was ashamed of herself. She'd been too slow in stopping the attack when he had dropped from the sky between her and the vampire, yet she could find no blame or resentment in Vikirnoff's mind.

His body was hard and muscular and ravaged with pain. Everything in her cried out to touch him, to ease that pain. She became fascinated by the way Slavica's hands moved over Vikirnoff's bare skin. Soothing him. Examining. Touching. Natalya's breath caught in her throat. The hands mesmerized her. Infuriated her. Something dark and ugly stirred inside of her.

The curtains slipped from her hands so that the early morning light spilled over her. Vikirnoff, sensing sudden danger, turned his head, eyes wide open to see Natalya fading into the wall, the streaks of light camouflaging her body so that it was difficult to see her

without straining. In spite of the pain movement caused, he turned on his side, gaze narrowing to focus more fully on her.

Natalya's entire demeanor had changed. She no longer appeared fully human, instead she had become a dangerous, powerful predator. Even her sea-green eyes had changed color, taking on a pearlescent appearance, fixed and focused on Slavica as if on prey. There was a stillness to her that spoke of a tigress on the hunt, muscles locked into position, gaze intent and fixed on the nurse.

«Mrs. Ostojic, Slavica,» Vikirnoff said, his voice quiet, his tone commanding. «Move slowly around to the other side of the bed. Do it now.»

Slavica glanced at Natalya as she rose. A small rumbling growl emanated from the corner where Natalya had faded into a blurred image. Hand to her throat, the innkeeper shifted her weight carefully, easing to her feet and putting the bulk of the bed between her and the woman.

Ainaak enyem, what has you so upset? Vikirnoff had little understanding of women, and even less of his lifemate. It was easy enough to understand that emotions were intense and neither understood exactly what was happening to them. He was fighting the battle of darkness and intellect had little to do with primal instincts. With Natalya so near and yet still not anchoring him, he was far more dangerous than he had ever been. Her chaotic emotions bombarding him were a recipe for disaster. Was the same thing happening to her? Were they both too close to animal instincts because neither understood what was happening to them?

Why are you allowing her to touch you like that? The accusation should have been ludicrous, but he sensed the way she held herself so tightly under control. To Natalya, the accusation was very real. She saw a woman's hands smoothing over the body of her lifemate. The emotions ran too strong, too intense, possibly fueled by his own terrible hunger, by his own rising beast.

Vikirnoff touched her mind. A red haze spread and gripped her. Instincts as old as time, hot with passion, animalistic. There was something buried deep in her he had yet to encounter, something she protected, but it was rising to the surface and it was every bit as dangerous and as powerful as a predator on the hunt.

He fought to keep the intensity of their emotions from affecting him. It was his duty to protect his lifemate, to see to her well-being. He had to find a way to defuse the situation until she could get herself under control.

«Slavica, perhaps you would get the necessary soil and herbs. You know what we need. Natalya will watch over me.» Vikirnoff never took his gaze, or his mind, from his lifemate. He didn't dare. The effort was draining, but the alternative was unthinkable. Natalya should have been not only healing him, but as his lifemate, anchoring him. Instead, she was triggering his every animal instinct so that not only did he have to fight himself, but he had

to provide the anchor for Natalya.

«Are you certain you'll be safe?» Slavica whispered the words.

A growling hiss of displeasure came from Natalya's direction.

«Thank you, yes.» A soft growl of his own accompanied the words and he kept his face averted from Slavica, his gaze holding Natalya locked in position.

Vikirnoff needed desperately. The heartbeats were so loud it was almost a roar in his head. He needed blood and a way to control the danger emanating from his lifemate. He willed the nurse to get out before disaster struck. Trying to hold Natalya in check was difficult when his life was ebbing away from the loss of blood.

Slavica moved slowly, intelligent enough to sense the danger, and courageous enough to walk around the bed and make her exit, pulling the door closed behind her.

«Come here to me,» Vikirnoff ordered, his tone dropping an octave until it was velvet soft and hypnotic.

Natalya shook her head as if trying to clear the haze from her mind. Unlike others Vikirnoff called to him, his lifemate was well aware she was under compulsion. Strangely she didn't fight him as she could have, instead she took a reluctant step forward, compelled by his black, black eyes and the stark hunger she couldn't define. The same hunger was in her, clawing with very real pain and power, threatening to consume them both.