Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

Slavica worked while she talked, washing the wounds and pouring something that obviously burned on Vikirnoff's back. He broke out in a blood sweat. Natalya's stomach

churned in protest. «I'm okay now. I'll see if I can't heal those injuries, Slavica.» Wounds she'd made. Natalya closed her eyes briefly wishing she could take back that moment in time. Warmth immediately flooded her. Vikirnoff's touch. She recognized it now, so light it almost wasn't there, yet strong and incredibly tender.

It wasn't fair that he could do that. He had so much confidence in himself. With him in her mind so much, she couldn't help but catch glimpses of his character. The strong silent type, although you don't seem to be all that silent around me. I can only wish. Deliberately she teased him, wanting the pain to recede from his body if only for a brief second.

She felt his faint smile, but he didn't speak, not even in the more intimate way of lifemates. She let out her breath, unaware until that moment that she'd been holding it. Vikirnoff was weak and the leaden state that invaded the Carpathian race was beginning to grip him. Even with the heavy drapes drawn the light hurt his eyes. She felt the burning as if it were her own.

«Cover his eyes, Slavica, while I finish this.» Natalya said between gritted teeth. The thought of him being in such pain, pain that she'd caused was totally disconcerting.

Csitri. You have not caused me pain.

There was that tenderness that turned her heart over. How could his voice be so velvet soft and gentle? How could it stroke through her body like silken heat leaving her so weak-kneed and vulnerable? And what was he calling her?

Slavica added heavy tapestries over the drapes so that no light could possibly get through the window or door.

«Thank you,» Natalya said. The darkened room made it easier to shed her body and regain her spirit form, traveling through Vikirnoff to reach the long furrows the tigress had carved out of his back. She closed the wounds, removing the bacteria, checking and rechecking that she had fused together every bit of torn flesh, muscle and vein. How he had managed to walk into the inn and up the stairs in such a condition she had no idea. She didn't want to admire him, but she did.

«I think I'm done,» Natalya announced, leaning heavily against Slavica. She was exhausted. Vikirnoff lay unmoving. Between his wounds and the time of day, his body was already leaden. She had the most unnatural desire to lie down beside him, her body curled protectively around his, and go to sleep.

«Will you be all right if I leave you?» Slavica asked. «Mirko has been handling the inn alone and I would very much like to check on the whereabouts of Brent Barstow.»

«I'll have to set safeguards on the door, so don't try to come in unless I call you,» Natalya cautioned. «I'll call if we need anything. Thank you so much for your help, Slavica. And I'm sorry if I was a little strange.»

Slavica patted her arm. «No need for that. Mirko and I will do our best to keep an eye on Barstow.»

Natalya shook her head. «You've done enough for us. I don't want either of you in danger. We'll sleep until this evening and we can sort it out then.»

She followed the innkeeper to the door to check the hallway. Uneasiness was growing in her, but it could have been fear of being alone with a hunter. Not just any hunter… Vikirnoff. She began to weave the intricate pattern of safeguards at the door and windows. Anyone disturbing their slumber would be in for a few nasty surprises.

Excellent job. I could not have done better myself.

His concession pleased her, even if the fact that he wasn't asleep made her uncomfortable. I have been studying since I was a toddler. My family is from a very ancient lineage and the spells have been handed down for centuries. She frowned when she realized she was using the much more intimate form of communication between them. Mind to mind rather than spoken aloud.

I am sorry if this form of conversing makes you uneasy. I do not have the strength for verbal conversation.

«I know you don't. I didn't object. If you'd stay out of my head, you wouldn't be hearing things you weren't meant to hear. People need privacy. Especially me.» She drummed her fingers against the mattress. «You need blood. And I need to wash you up. Frankly, you're a mess.» She surveyed him, hands on hips. «I don't see how you managed to make it even traveling on the back of a tiger.»

The tiger was a wonderful experience. My brother has said, on more than one occasion, that I am stubborn.

«What a shocker that is.» Natalya flashed him a small grin as she dragged towels, washcloth and a bowl of warm water out of the bathroom, pleased by his compliment. «I can't imagine anyone ever calling you stubborn.»

You are very brave when I am seemingly helpless.

Natalya's eyebrow went up. «Seemingly?» She was gentle as she wiped his face clean, smoothing back his hair with the washcloth.

You do not have to do this.

She frowned at him as she patted his face dry. «Yes, I do. I'm sleeping on the floor and you're a mess.» That was exactly what she planned to do. Sleep on the floor in front of the door with several weapons at her fingertips.

She longed to lie down and sleep in the soft bed for a couple of days, but it wasn't going

to happen this day.

He was silent again and she finished washing him, smoothing the cloth over his heavy muscles, washing away all traces of blood from his chest and belly. Natalya tossed the rags left from his shirt into a corner. She hesitated, tempted to go further, but she was worn out and she still needed to give him blood. Besides, she didn't want to see anything too tempting.

His soft laughter brushed inside her mind. It is not likely I could do anything about the ideas you would have in your head.

Don't flatter yourself. I'm not easily impressed. Mortified that he was reading her thoughts again, Natalya hurried into the bathroom. Many of the rooms shared the same bathroom, but Natalya had specifically requested one with a private bath. She'd felt a little guilty when she knew she'd be away for several days at a time, but now she was grateful she had reserved the room.

The hot water felt like a miracle as she took a shower, hoping to revive herself for the long watch. She was sore everywhere. She hadn't even noticed until that very moment. Every muscle ached, her head pounded and her eyes burned enough to remind her the sun was climbing high. She could hear the buzz of conversations throughout the inn, the laughter out on the street, the clip-clop of the horses as the carts went by, interspersed occasionally with a car. She was a solitary person, but she enjoyed the sounds of humanity and usually sought out friendships in the towns and villages she passed through. It was the only way she saw herself fitting into the world when it was a place not meant for someone like her.

She was part Carpathian. She was capable of some feats, yet not all. She had the drawbacks, yet not the severity of them. She didn't belong in their world, she didn't belong to a species that had murdered her brother and waged a war over a woman, even if that woman had been her grandmother.

Mage blood ran strong in her. She was from ancient lines gifted with the ability to wield magick, to use the harmony of the earth, to harness the energies and spirits around her. She was adept at it, capable of weaving powerful spells, combining ancient text and her own inventions with astonishing results, yet there was nowhere for such things in the modern world.

The thought triggered a flash of memory, or perhaps a nightmare. I don't want to do that. It's too dangerous. Razvan, tell him what will happen if I call on that spirit. I won't. Razvan, he's hurting me. Make him stop! A shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and loomed over her as her brother rushed to her aid. Gasping, Natalya pulled back…