Christine Feehan - Dark Demon 16

«I so don't want to know what any of that means,» Natalya said, trying to smile. The smile died swiftly as the pain began swelling again, gripping her so hard her body convulsed. Fire, hot and ferocious, tore through her body. She bit back a scream, desperate to hide the extent of the pain from him.

Small beads of blood formed on Natalya's brow. Vikirnoff swept back the tangled mess of her damp, tawny hair. Small stripes banded over her body, shades of orange, white and black, faint streaks tinged with blood. Raw fury burned through him and he cursed who and what he was. The way she tried to be so damned protective of him shredded his heart. He came up on his knees, soaked his shirt in the coolest pool in the cavern and wiped the sweat from her face as gently as he could.

Natalya suddenly pushed at him, tried to pull out of his mind, turning her face away from him, but he stayed firmly merged, his blood pounding through his veins. This was emotion at its worst. He rode the wave out with her, striving to find a way to help her, searching for calm. For centuries, his world had been unemotional, and now, when he needed it most, he couldn't find the balance that was so necessary to aid her.

She went white, so pale her skin was nearly gray. The bluish tinge to her lips had his heart pounding in alarm, but his hands were gentle as he wiped her face and throat.

She caught his arm. «Stay with me.»

«I am not going anywhere.»

«You can't possibly become vampire, can you, Vikirnoff?»

He knew her fears were because of her twin brother. She had lost him. The last person in her life to really love her. Now, she feared losing Vikirnoff. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, opened her clenched fist and pressed a second kiss to the center of her palm. «Thanks to you, no. Not ever.»

She attempted a smile, trying to tease him, wanting to reassure him. «Then you owe me big time. Big time. And I intend to collect.» It was starting again, the torch in her stomach, burning through her lungs and heart and every organ. She tried to breathe through the pain, was desperate for air, for a way to stop the agony just for a moment so she could regroup. Tears burned in her eyes and streaks of blood ran down her face. «I'm sorry,» she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. «I'm going to be sick.»

«That is good.» He swallowed the bile in his own throat, feeling desperate. He wanted to wrap his body around hers, find a way to protect her, to take away every second of the pain. «That is a good thing. It will help you rid your body of toxins.»

She tried to crawl away, wanting to get into the shadows, but she was too sick, her body shuddering with pain, collapsing before she could reach the darker edges of the cavern. Vikirnoff tried to touch her, to help her, but she shook her head, pushing his hands away, unable to bear being touched with her skin so sensitive. He waved his hands at the candles flickering closest to her and the lights went out, leaving her with a semblance of privacy as she was sick over and over.

«This sucks,» she announced, rolling over to lie still, conserving her strength for the next round. «I know you can make that go away»-she pointed to the mess she'd made-«and I really detest throwing up, so remove it please.» She took the water bottle he handed her and rinsed her mouth, grateful he was thoughtful.

Vikirnoff complied, making certain all evidence that she had been ill was removed. «I want to try to do this together, Natalya. Do not hold yourself away from me or try to protect me. You are my life and I need to do whatever I can to help you through this. Let my heartbeat lead yours. Let my breath be yours.» He couldn't be a bystander while she suffered so much. He had to find a way to help her.

Natalya reached out her hand for his. It was almost comical to see him so shaken. Her big bad Carpathian. He was actually trembling. Worse, he looked ready to kill something, or someone. Who knew he would react like that? «What are you going to do if I ever have a baby?»

His face paled visibly and his eyes darkened even more. «I cannot think about it now. Not for a long time. Centuries maybe. Perhaps never, if it is anything like this.»

The next wave began building and she shifted her gaze to his face, her expression desperate. He brushed back her hair, noting the stripes once again stood out against her skin and hair in bands of orange and black and white. She alternated between the stripes and her pale, almost gray complexion. «Hang on, love, breathe with me. A long slow breath and

ride above the pain.»

Her gaze clung to his, her grip on him so tight he thought she might crush his bones, but she followed his breathing, long slow breaths, moving air in and out of their lungs, staying above the worst of the pain. Her body shook and the pinpoints of blood seeping through pores alarmed them both, but she was able to get through the wave without convulsing.

«I don't want to lose my tigress.» She lifted her head when he put his arm around her neck to hold her up so she could rinse her mouth again. «It wants my tigress and she is fighting it, I don't want to give her up. She's a part of me, just like breathing.» There was anxiety in her voice, a plea in her eyes.

«The conversion is reshaping organs and tissues; essentially you are reborn as a Carpathian. I can still see the stripes. It is your nature to be a tigress, not part of your species. I do not believe you will lose who you are.» He brushed the damp strands of tawny hair from her face. «You will always be Natalya and the tigress is part of your soul. I feel her locked with me. You will not lose her.» He repeated the reassurance a second time as the next pain welled up sharp and fast, lifting her from the cavern floor and slamming her back down so hard her bones seemed in danger of breaking.

Natalya kept her gaze fixed on Vikirnoff. He was her lifeline. As long as she looked at him, saw desperate love and worry etched into his face, in the black eyes, she knew she could be strong. She'd never had a man look at her like that, as if his world was shattering because she was suffering. She could feel him trying to take the pain from her and it only made her love him more. He was such a powerful, steadfast man, yet all his personal stoicism dissolved in the face of her suffering.

She stroked his face, her fingertips smoothing the deep lines as the pain subsided. «I'm not afraid of this, Vikirnoff. I'm really not.»

He swore again. She hadn't heard him say so many swear words in all the time they'd been together. «I am. I knew it was bad, but not like this.» He pressed his forehead against hers, smearing blood across both of their brows. «It has to be over soon.»

«It will be.» She was calm now, resigned to the waves of pain, able to hang on because she could get through anything for a short period of time and he was there with her, looking ravaged and drained, so distraught she wanted to soothe him.

Vikirnoff thought he might lose his mind. Time dragged, each second agonizingly slow, an excruciating endless anguish that had him praying when he hadn't prayed in centuries. He had never felt so helpless-or useless in his life. His Natalya, so courageous, undergoing such torment for him. For his way of life. When finally he thought it would be safe to send to her sleep, she smiled at him. Smiled.

Vikirnoff wanted to weep. The way she looked at him, with such love in her eyes, humbled him. He couldn't believe she could see him that way, not after such an ordeal.

There was love in her eyes, a warmth that seeped into the coldness of his bones and brought him back to life.

You really are a baby, you know. There was utter weariness in her voice. She was so tired, yet she couldn't help wiping at the blood-red tears streaking his face.