Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

«It is our legacy, Natalya. We are given the ritual binding words to preserve our species, our lives. It is our only true safeguard. Without the light to our darkness we succumb inevitably to evil if we do not seek the dawn.» His gaze shifted from her face, jumped back to meet her green eyes. «I was far, far past the point of no return. I knew the exact day of my choosing. I remember it vividly, but I did not do what was necessary to ensure the survival of the rest of my race. I chose life. I clung to life when I should have chosen the dawn.»

She shook her head, her fingers stroking the strong bones of his face. «That's not true. You said we are lifemates. Doesn't that mean you were meant to survive?»

He shook his head. «I was too close. You sensed it in the forest long before you ever saw me. You could not tell if I was hunter or vampire. I could not tell either.» He refused to flinch away from the raw truth. «I do not know if a second moment of choice ever comes after that first. I cannot tell you if Razvan even knew there was a time of choice. It had been so long since I had actually experienced emotions, experienced anything, my mind began to wander into places I know it should not have gone, but I was unable to stop it.»

Natalya took a deep breath, her fingers tangling in his hair. There were so many emotions in him, running deep, carving out deep wounds of humiliation. It cost him his pride as a Carpathian hunter, as a male of his species to tell her his darkest secret, to admit the shame of his choice knowing what would inevitably happen, and the worse shame of not being able to stop himself moving inexorably toward ultimate evil.

«Razvan did not have my training. He did not have the knowledge of what could happen drilled into him for centuries. Does this make him weak? Is it a betrayal of all we love, or is the choice taken from us, lost in the haze created in our minds when everything runs together and there are no longer clear lines of definition, just awful, meaningless existence?»

She felt dazed, humbled even, looking into his dark eyes. There was pain there, the pain

of centuries of emptiness. There was fear that she would reject him.

«How could you think that I could reject you? Why would I? Not for baring your soul and confessing to me because you wanted me to know Razvan didn't deliberately betray me.» She pressed kisses along his jaw, trailed several to the corner of his mouth. Her tongue flicked enticingly along the seam of his lips.

«Razvan might not have meant to betray you, it may have just happened. But, Natalya, mine was a true betrayal. As your lifemate, I should have put your protection above all else and I should have chosen the dawn when that moment came to make my choice.»

She kissed his mouth, soft pressing kisses over and over until he opened his mouth to her. She drowned in his taste. In his stark honesty. In the sacrifice of his pride for her. She wanted to cry for both of them. «There was no betrayal, Vikirnoff,» she said softly, «only life. Just life. And it can be hard and cruel and terrifying. But it can also be exhilarating and beautiful and filled with passion for all things if you want it. We want it. Both of us. We are not willing to let it pass by. I would have clung to life as you did. As Razvan did. I don't know if he can be saved or not, but at least I feel as if he didn't choose to betray me. Thank you for that.»

Vikirnoff crushed her to him, his breath exploding out of his lungs in relief. He pushed the tawny hair from her eyes, framed her face so he could drink her in, devour her. Heady relief mixed with sharp joy. Natalya's beauty ran far more than skin deep. He kissed her, a slow sizzling kiss of happiness that her heart was so open to him.

She melted into him, one leg sliding around his thigh so she pressed closer, rubbing her wet, slick body against his in invitation.

Vikirnoff lifted her easily, urging her to wrap both legs around his waist, leaving her open to him, allowing him to position her over the head of his erection. The welcoming folds of her channel were hot velvet and exquisitely tight, holding him like a fist as he buried his body deep into hers. It was a miracle to him, the way her body accepted his, stroked and gripped and milked his. Her skin was hot and soft and rubbed against his with every movement.

Her face was beautiful in the shadows from the flickering candlelight, which played over her soft curves. She leaned back, her hands clasped around his neck and began a long, slow ride of ecstasy, the pleasure on her face heightening her beauty. He let her take the lead, bringing him to the point of climax several times only to stop and tease his pulse with her tongue and teeth. Waiting. Building. He felt the powerful orgasm gathering and gathering, a force that finally took control from both of them. It rushed over him, over her, taking them with it as it thundered through their bodies and souls.

He heard his own hoarse shout, her soft cry, felt the convulsion of her strong muscles surrounding him and the blood-red tears on his face.

Chapter 16

Natalya sank back onto her heels as she knelt staring at the jewel-embedded ceremonial knife. It lay on a small piece of cloth between them. The blade was slightly curved and the handle ornate. Instead of looking deadly, the knife seemed an object of priceless art.

«The knife looks so harmless, doesn't it?» Natalya asked. «And yet looks can be deceptive. It's been used countless times to murder.» Her hand hovered over the blade and trembled. Natalya pulled back.

The sun had set and both she and Vikirnoff had bathed in the hot spring water after making love. It had been difficult for her to avoid taking his blood. She craved it more than ever, as if he were a drug she was addicted to and now, with the knowledge that Razvan was still alive, the idea of becoming a Carpathian held both comfort and promise. They were both dressed in the clothes Vikirnoff had fashioned for them. Now, there was only one last task that stood in her way; touching this knife, accessing the violent memories that clung to the ceremonial weapon.

«I have fed and I am here as your anchor to hold you to this world and this time.» He stroked a long caress over her hair. «The safeguards are in place and my duty to Gabrielle has been done. Falcon has given her the second blood exchange and we have all answered the call to heal her. This is our time, Natalya. Find out what memories the knife holds and hopefully we will have a clue to where the book is hidden. Once we retrieve it we can take the book to a safe place where it can be destroyed or guarded adequately.»

Natalya took a deep breath and let it out. «Reading the knife will not be easy, Vikirnoff. We will live the memories of those that died on its blade.»

His hand slid up her arm to her shoulder, fingers massaging gently. «I know this is difficult for you. If I could, I would do it for you.»

She sat there with the candles flickering all around her and the knife in front of her. The sound of the water lapping at the edges of the pool soothed her and Vikirnoff's presence made her feel protected. She had «read» objects hundreds of times, yet she was reluctant to relive the death of her grandmother and worse, the murder of her father, even with Vikirnoff there to aid her. «You believe I can do this.»

«I know that you can.»

«Before I do, I want you to know I'm not mad at you anymore.»

His eyebrow shot up. «Were you angry with me?»

She scowled at him. «Yes, I was angry with you. Sheesh! You didn't even notice?»

«We made love a dozen times, more even. You bit me a few times and there are scratches on my back, but I enjoyed you putting the marks there.»

«That's because you're a pervert. And I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your ridiculous and totally arbitrary decision to bind us together.»