Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

Neither one of us is very good at talking things out, are we? she asked. Her hands

smoothed the feathers at the back of his neck.

I guess that is so. I never had much need to discuss feelings when I had none. I relied on my own judgment in battle, in every decision, in every way. Who was there to discuss things with and what would I discuss? If it was an apology, he knew it was a poor one. He honestly didn't know what people talked about or how they did it.

You've spent a long time alone, haven't you?

There was a small silence. Natalya feared he wouldn't answer. She found she was holding her breath waiting.

Centuries. I have been cut off from my homeland and my people, sent out long ago to battle the vampire. When the darkness crouched too close, I found my brother and remained with him to ensure he did not succumb before I made the choice to end my life. That wait was long and the darkness spread until I was no longer certain who I was.

It was the simple truth. She heard it in his voice. A lifetime of honor and service told in three sentences. It did not convey the stark isolation, the emptiness of emotion and color, yet she felt it as surely as if she'd been there and she found herself weeping for him.

Do not think of something that will cause you sorrow, ainaak enyem, look beneath us to the world below and enjoy this time.

Natalya lifted her chin, allowing the wind to carry her tears away. You'd better not be calling me a «little slip of a girl.»

His laughter was low and sensual. She felt it in the pit of her stomach, lower still, a curling heat that spread throughout her body and pooled into a throbbing ache. I will certainly never make that mistake again.

She looked beneath her to the wild countryside they were circling. There were deep gorges cut into the mountain and she could see several entrances to caves. The meadows were a vivid green even in the gathering darkness. Wildflowers bloomed everywhere, in the valleys, clinging to the sides of the rock and valiantly decorating the plateaus. As Vikirnoff swooped lower she could see in the deeper depressions where water filled the basins forming a peat bog. The beds of moss were a vivid green, enhanced by several shallow pools. The moss beds wound their way around stands of birch and pine.

It is so beautiful.

Yes, but I feel uneasy. Do you not feel the subtle warning in the air around us when I drop into the mist near the peak of the mountain?

Vikirnoff circled around once again, flying straight into the white mist hovering around

the mountaintop. Natalya stiffened as she felt the subtleties of magick weaving a web of fear through her. We must be close to the entrance.

Vikirnoff landed on the nearest outcropping, gripping hard with his talons and extending one wing politely.

She slid off of the extended wing, landing on her feet. The ground seemed to shake as she adjusted to land again. «This is definitely the place. The feeling of wanting to leave is much stronger here.»

Vikirnoff shifted shape a distance from her, knowing the wrenching of bones and muscle would be agony. He did it fast, not wanting to give himself time to think about it, clothing himself at the same time. Spots of blood dotted his white shirt and when he swiped his hand across his brow, his palm came away smeared with blood. Cursing softly, he breathed deep to ride above the pain and did another quick healing session to repair the damage the shifting back and forth caused. Once he was certain there was no trace of the blood on his body or clothes, he strode over to the boulder and paced around it, careful not to disturb anything should there be a trap.

Natalya watched him coming toward her. He staggered, his hand going to his chest in an involuntary gesture, but he recovered immediately, walking as if he were fit and strong. He carried an edge of danger without even being aware of it. Had she not known he was so severely injured, looking at him now, she would never have known.

She sighed. She had so many issues to settle with him. First and foremost, the ridiculous spell that bound them together, but she could set all that aside for later and work with him if she could trust him. Every instinct told her she could, yet her mind churned with turmoil, guilt ever present and the sound of her brother's voice continually admonished her.

«What is it, Natalya?»

His voice turned her heart over. That was the trouble. He had those eyes and that voice and she responded completely to him. «You looked into my mind to try to find who put me under compulsion, didn't you, Vikirnoff?»

«Yes.» He wasn't going to try to deceive her. He saw no need for it, and no need to apologize. If he was going to keep her safe, he needed to know who had put her under such a strong compulsion and why. «I did not have much time to find answers, but I have not yet finished.»

Natalya took a deep breath. What she was about to do might be worse than anything she'd ever done in her life. «Do I have memories of Xavier? My grandfather? Other than stories told to me by my father, I mean.»

Vikirnoff leaned against a boulder and studied her face. His gaze was focused, sharp, missed nothing at all. «That is a strange question, Natalya. Why would you ask such a

thing? How could you have memories if he is dead?»

«I don't know. I have disturbing dreams of him. He creeps into my dreams and when I try to remember my childhood with Razvan while I'm awake, I cannot. It's hazy and distant and pieces are missing. I have been afraid for some time that my memories of him are buried.» She forced herself to look at him when she feared he might think she was crazy.

Vikirnoff was silent. She was nervous with him, attempting to trust him with something important to her, but more than that, he recognized the significance to his people. Xavier was a mortal enemy of the Carpathian people. He had murdered and kidnapped and waged war for one purpose, one end. He sought immortality. Should Xavier be alive he would be planning another strike against the Carpathian people. It didn't seem possible, but it had always bothered Vikirnoff that no body had been found to substantiate the claims of Xavier's death. Vikirnoff needed to choose his words carefully and not alienate her. He knew he didn't have the necessary skills to sweet-talk his lifemate. He only had the truth.

«Are you afraid Xavier is alive? That he is the one who placed you under compulsion? And that perhaps he tampered with your memories as well?»

Natalya sighed. «I don't know. I can't remember anything about him other than the stories told to me by my father, but I have dreams and they aren't pleasant. Worse, my father disappeared when I was ten. Razvan and I couldn't have lived alone, but I can't recall those days, or who took care of us. I dream about them and Xavier creeps into every dream.»

«Do you suspect that he is alive?»

Natalya pressed her hand to her churning stomach. She did suspect Xavier lived, but that was crazy. She'd suspected it for some rime. And she worried that he wasn't the wonderful man her family had portrayed to her. Her dreams were often disturbing and Razvan and she suffered greatly at his hands. She had flashes of memories during waking hours that made no sense, memories of a shadowy figure that terrified her. She was afraid that man was Xavier.

«I don't know,» she admitted reluctantly. «I know he was a dark mage and capable of controlling memory, but if he is alive and he didn't want me to remember him and he was altering my memories, why didn't he completely wipe himself from my mind? And what would be the purpose?»

Vikirnoff's dark eyes moved over her face, drinking her in, devouring her. She was so beautiful to him with her strong will and her warrior ways. When she sounded so confused and forlorn, his heart turned over. «Maybe he could not. You have tremendous strength in you, Natalya. Could he have controlled your memory to some extent but perhaps found it impossible to wipe it clean?»