Dark Demon (Dark #16)

Dark Demon (Dark #16) Page 4

"Natalya seems very upset," Slavica said as she lit several candles to fill the room with the soothing aroma. "Is it always so difficult for your women to accept another woman helping you? Even when I am a nurse and you are so gravely injured?"

Vikirnoff gave her a faint, humorless smile. "I have only met two other woman of my species in recent years and it seems to me they were both difficult. I have little memory of those who came before."

"Natalya is a sweet girl," Slavica said. "My husband, Mirko, is sending word to the prince, Mikhail Dubrinsky, that you are injured. I told him that one of our guests had broken into Natalya's room while she was away. That really worries me." She frowned as she studied the deep hole in his chest. "This worries me as well. The muscle and tissue are shredded right down to your heart. Your artery is exposed and there seems to be infection already forming."

"Vampires are nasty creatures. They like to leave their mark behind."

Natalya leaned against the bathroom door and listened to the conversation, ashamed of her unreasonable jealousy. She wasn't a sweet girl. She was a grown woman much older than Slavica and she should be in total control at all times. Her flippant attitude was carefully cultivated to keep people at a distance, but as a rule, she was in complete control.

Meeting Vikirnoff had her emotions ping-ponging all over the place. She didn't much like the feeling-or herself at the moment.

Of course the hole in Vikirnoff's chest was worrisome. A vampire had attempted to tear out his heart. What did Slavica mean by that? Was it a mortal wound? Slavica hadn't even gotten to the tiger claw marks down his back. Was Vikirnoff going to die after all? Natalya had been so busy climbing all over him, she'd nearly forgotten what he'd suffered in her defense. She was completely disgusted with herself.

Natalya thumped the back of her head against the wall in frustration. What is wrong with me?

Nothing is wrong with you. You were given a version of a story and you believed it. You think I am your enemy and yet you are the other half of me and your soul recognizes me. It is no wonder you are confused.

Vikirnoff's calm voice intruded into her mind. The voice of reason. Purity. Truth. So in control-as if giving her permission to be upset. And it annoyed the hell out of her. Don't make excuses for me. I'm perfectly capable of making up my own mind. Everything about you annoys the holy hell out of me.

Everything? His tone was mild, but the inflection was suggestive.

Natalya squeezed her eyes closed tight as warmth flooded her body. If his voice could make her weak with wanting him, she was terrified of what might happen if he touched her. She was vulnerable right now. That was the trouble. She longed for a home and a family. For someone to share her life and he came along, all handsome with those eyes and that mouth and body, and she'd tripped. That was all. A small stumble.

Slavica spoke again. "I'll need your saliva. Mine has no healing properties."

Natalya's stomach rolled and her muscles clenched in protest. "Damn it," she muttered as she flung open the bathroom door. She hurried out, grabbing the wooden bowl filled with rich, dark soil, not daring to look at Vikirnoff. "I'll do it," she announced, exasperation coloring her tone. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your freakin' mouth shut. And you won't dare smirk, because in all honesty, I have no idea what I'll do if you are that stupid and insensitive.

I have never been accused of being insensitive. Vikirnoff wasn't certain that was altogether the truth. His brother's lifemate, Destiny, had definitely made a few pointed remarks about his lack of knowledge about women.

"Of course, Natalya," Slavica encouraged. "I'm grateful for the help. Healing a Carpathian is quite different from healing a human."

"Have you done it before?" Natalya asked, curious. It just didn't seem likely that the Carpathian race would share such vital information as their way of healing with humans.

Natalya glanced at Vikirnoff, unable to help herself. Her heart shifted uneasily. Had he always been so pale? There were dark circles under his sunken-in eyes. White lines around his mouth were the only real external signs of pain, but she felt it. And she knew he was, in some way, shielding her. That irritated her as well.

She was every bit as powerful and capable as he was. Just because he knew that you had to incinerate vampire hearts in order to kill the undead did not make him more powerful or dangerous, only more knowledgeable. She risked another glance at him as she worked on the soil, trying not to notice the way Slavica touched him. It was impersonal, she could read Slavica's mind, knew there were no inappropriate thoughts, only her need to help heal Vikirnoff's wounds. There was also a very real worry that she would not be able to save him. Still, watching another woman's hands on his body was disturbing.

"Tell me what else he needs," Natalya said before she could stop herself. A slow hiss of exasperation escaped, but she grimly kept up with her task. She knew the soil was all important, that it would be packed into Vikirnoff's wounds.

"He needs blood, lots of it. And he needs the earth and someone to enter his body and heal him from the inside out."

Natalya pressed her back against the wall. Damn the man. I sure as hell do not want to crawl inside your mind and body.

I would not ask it of you.

She ground her teeth together. Of course he wouldn't ask. If he'd asked, she would have told him to go to hell, but no, he had to be all stoic and heroic on her. He didn't ask her to bring him back to the inn, but he'd looked at her with his intense black eyes and left her no choice.

I was unconscious.

If you knew what was good for you, you'd be unconscious now. She fumed at him, glaring, but he kept his eyes closed. And that brought her attention to his black lashes and their incredible length.

"I've healed myself from the inside out, Slavica. It requires a great deal of concentration and if he stays quiet and doesn't say anything stupid and make me so mad I want to add a few extra wounds to him, then it may just work."

Vikirnoff's mouth curved into a faint smile. "She sounds so loving."

Slavica laughed. "She does at that, Mr. Von Shrieder."

"Vikirnoff," he corrected. "I don't think now is the time to stand on ceremony. If you are under the protection of our prince, then you are under my protection and a friend."

Natalya snorted derisively. "You couldn't protect a wet hen right now, Mr. Charm, so knock off the flirting and let me work."

Vikirnoff looked confused. "Why would I want to protect a wet hen?"

Slavica covered her mouth with her hand and coughed delicately.

"You're deliberately missing the point," Natalya said and sank down onto the mattress, her thigh brushing his.

"I do not understand how or why you are comparing Slavica to a wet hen," Vikirnoff said with a small frown. "I do not see the resemblance."

Slavica's giggle slipped out from around her hand. She hastily sobered and sent Natalya a quick look of apology. "Just lie back, Vikirnoff, and stay still. Natalya, you must teach me the chant that all Carpathian healers use when working."

"I don't know it," Natalya admitted, feeling guilty and ashamed. Why, she didn't know. She had no reason to know the silly chant. "I'm not full Carpathian and have never lived with their people. I know very little about them."

Vikirnoff's fingers caught her chin and raised it. Her gaze flew to his and held there when she wanted to jerk away. For all the severity of his injuries, he had surprising strength. I do not like you feeling ashamed. Why should you know something without ever being taught? Few know the heart of the vampire must be incinerated or he will rise again and again. Even fewer know how to separate mind and body to heal. And the number who know the sacred words of healing is even smaller.

His voice soothed more than his words, brushing over her like silk, enveloping them with an intimacy that brought unexpected tears to her eyes. She choked back a lump burning in her throat and dragged her gaze from his. He was touching her in ways she couldn't comprehend and her reaction to him frightened her. She was terribly ashamed of her shrewish behavior toward Vikirnoff when he lay on the bed with his chest, thigh and back ripped open, all the while trying to soothe her.

I am having trouble keeping chaotic emotions at bay, why should it be any easier for you? You have no reason to feel shame.

His confession nearly brought on another rush of tears. Natalya bent over his chest, pressing the mixture of healing soil and saliva into the hole so close to his heart. Beneath her fingers, she felt his muscles grow tense. Flicking a nervous glance at his face, she saw tiny beads of blood on his brow. Her stomach protested with a quick rolling lurch. Her breath hissed out between her teeth.

"It's good, Natalya," Slavica encouraged. "Vikirnoff teach us the words so we can help when Natalya attempts to heal you."

Hurry. It slipped out, breathless with anxiety. Natalya bit down on her lip, but it didn't stop the worry in her mind from betraying her. She hated causing him pain, even when she knew she was helping him with the soil pack. Tell me the words and I'll relay them to Slavica. And tell me what the words mean.

Kunasz, nelkul sivdobbanas, nelkul fesztelen loyly. It means, "You lie as if asleep, without beat of heart, without airy breath.'" Vikirnoff coughed and there was a fleck of blood at his lips. He turned his face away from her to continue. Ot elidamet andam szabadon elidadert means "I offer freely my life for your life." His gaze flicked over her briefly. You may not wish to continue.

Just give me the words.

O jela sielam jorem ot ainamet es so?e ot elidadet. Vikirnoff coughed again and dragged his torn shirt to his mouth. Natalya could see it was instantly stained with blood. "My spirit of light forgets my body and enters your body." O jela sielam pukta kinn minden szelemeket belso.

Vikirnoff paused when she took the shirt from him and gently wiped his mouth. Her eyes met his. "What does that mean?"

"My spirit of light sends all the dark spirits within fleeing without." His hand fumbled for her wrist to hold her still. Thank you, Natalya.

"You're very welcome. Give me the rest of it before you lose consciousness."

Pajnak o susu hanyet es o nyelv nyalamet sivadaba means "I press the earth of my homeland and the spit of my tongue into your heart."

"Basically the chant covers exactly the procedure for healing," Natalya said.

Vikirnoff nodded. Vii o verim so?e o verid andam is, "At last, I give you my blood for your blood." This is repeated while the healer is inside the body. It is a ceremony that has been handed down through time and has much power.

Natalya repeated the words slowly several times to Slavica. The nurse nodded and began to chant, picking up the accents and murmuring the words in a soft, melodic voice.

Natalya took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out. She had often healed small wounds on her own body with the technique of separating spirit from body, but never on another person. It was dangerous and difficult to allow the body to drop away and become the healing energy needed. And to enter Vikirnoff's body... What if she made a mistake? What if she did something wrong and made things worse?

There is no making things worse, ainaak enyem, I cannot hold on much longer. If you do not enter my body and heal it, I will oblige you by dying and save you the necessity of finding new ways to kill me.

Natalya had no idea if he was attempting humor or if he meant it, but his words steadied her resolve. She flashed him a quick glance. Good riddance, too. You make me crazy.

I know.

There was far too much satisfaction in his purring answer. But there was also an underlying echo of pain. He was finding it more difficult to shield her from the tearing agony that made him sweat blood. Natalya closed herself off from confusion and guilt and doubt. She needed to shed her own skin, put aside her ego and her doubts, the frailties of self and become only pure energy, the essence of life, a spirit so light it could travel without flesh and bones.

She began to chant as well, the rhythmic words helping her concentrate and focus on her task. She felt the separation and, for a moment, panicked as she always did. She forced herself to push through her awareness of self and let go. She knew Vikirnoff was with her, a shadow in her mind. She wasn't certain if he was there for support, for aid should she need it, or because he feared she might try to kill him.

She found herself back in her own body. Faint color stole up her cheeks. She couldn't look at Slavica and admit failure. What did I do wrong?

Nothing. You became aware of my presence and allowed it to distract you. It happens with all healers attempting to enter someone else. Try again, Natalya. You seem to be a natural.

I've only done this to myself.

But with no training. No one showed you how, but you managed on your own. You must be a powerful healer as were all the Dragonseekers. I am staying with you to ensure your safety. If you wished me dead, you would not be attempting this.

The utter weariness in his voice became her strength and determination. She let her breath out slowly again and freed her mind and spirit from her body. She narrowed her awareness to Vikirnoff, to his broken, bleeding body, the terrible injuries wrought by a vampire, the most evil of all creatures.

It was necessary to stay out of his brain, ignore his memories and his thoughts. She found it was a struggle to separate herself from him. Somehow they were already intertwined and some instinctual, emotional and alien part of her feared his death. She took another steadying breath and once more concentrated on the chant. It was there for her, focusing her energy, drawing her into Vikirnoff's torn body so that she floated through him, pure white healing light.

The damage was tremendous. Worse than she ever expected and far beyond her healing accomplishments to date. She wondered at his ability to continue when he was so completely torn up inside. The deep claw marks down his back were mere scratches in

comparison to the damage done by Arturo.

Natalya began the meticulous work of healing from the inside out. After a time she became aware whenever she hesitated, it was Vikirnoff who directed her, helping her close off torn, jagged muscle and tissue, repairing the damaged organs and carefully removing infection and, in several spots, poison.

The volume of chanting increased as other Carpathians joined in from a distance, both male and female, their voices rising together to aid in healing one of their own, in spite of the sun climbing higher in the sky. If the work hadn't demanded all of her attention, the voices merging together would have made her nervous. She had never been in such close proximity to the Carpathian people and they were touching her mind, just as she was touching theirs.

She had no idea how much time passed before she finished with the repairs to Vikirnoff's chest, but by the time she pulled back into herself, her body was swaying with weariness. Slavica held a glass of water out to her. Natalya took it gratefully and drank it down in one gulp.

"How do you know how to do that?" she asked Vikirnoff. "I don't think a doctor could do what you just did."

If it were possible, Vikirnoff was even paler, his skin an alarming color of gray. Natalya gripped Slavica's arm. "Look at him. I made him worse."

"I don't think so," Slavica consoled. "He needs blood. We must find a way to give him blood." She took a deep breath. "I gave my blood once before to a Carpathian, although I don't remember what it felt like. I can give him mine."

The protest rising in Natalya was sharp and ugly. She forced herself away from the edge of danger. She flatly refused to make a fool of herself a second time. And she was not about to tell Slavica an exchange of blood with Vikirnoff was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced.

"I will supply him with blood," she said. The thought of touching him, tasting him so intimately was frightening. The more she wanted to run from him, it seemed the closer they became.

"She is too weak," Vikirnoff objected.

His voice was so faint, Natalya bent over him to hear the whispered words. His breath was warm against her ear. She could see the weak flutter of his pulse. "Put yourself to sleep and conserve energy," she ordered. "I mean it, hunter. You're not going to die on me and mess up the best work I've ever done."

I am beginning to like the way you talk to me and that is frightening. There was the faintest of smiles in his voice.

She was so susceptible to him. "Just hibernate, or go into your suspended animation, or whatever you people do when you're underground." She looked at Slavica with too much desperation, but she couldn't help herself. "Can't you do something? Don't you have a shot of something that will knock him out so we don't have to listen to him anymore? He's so busy trying to be the boss he's going to die on us." She hated that she was betraying her concern for him.

"Unfortunately he is right about the blood," Slavica said. "You have to work on him more and you need your strength. The hours are slipping by and soon you will be too tired to do this. There is no way for us to get him into the healing earth without everyone seeing us either."

"I don't get as tired as the Carpathians do in the sun," Natalya said. "I'm only part Carpathian." She'd never really thought about that side of her and the gifts she'd inherited from her grandmother.

She stared down at Vikirnoff with a small frown on her face. He definitely needed more blood. She doubted her nature could stand him taking what he needed from Slavica. How could she explain to the nurse when she didn't understand it herself?

Slavica seemed to divine the problem. "Why don't I do the best I can to treat his remaining wounds and you give him blood? If I think he needs stitches, you can go back in just for that part. None of his other wounds is life threatening. You can probably do a quick inspection of them to make certain no bacteria have gotten into his system. That way you will conserve strength and you can provide for him."

Natalya helped Slavica roll Vikirnoff to his side, exposing his back. The rake marks were long furrows dug out of his flesh, several inches deep in places. Slavica glanced at Natalya. "I'm sorry, you will have to do this. I would have to give him stitches, the cuts are far too deep. I'll clean it to give you a chance to rest."

"Tell me how you came to know about the Carpathians. Do you see them often?" Natalya didn't want to think too much on how those rake marks had gotten on his back.

There is no need for guilt.

Please just go to sleep.

Slavica smiled. "Mikhail and Raven Dubrinsky are regular visitors to the village. They have many friends here and help out a great deal. I doubt anyone else knows they are not simply another human couple living in this area. Not long ago, two other Carpathians made themselves known to me. They brought with them small human children. Angelina and I often look after the children during the day."

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...

What is it? There was alarm in Vikirnoff's voice.

Natalya closed her eyes, tears slipping past her lashes as she caught the vision of her

brother lying on the floor, his face already swelling and blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. As always a door in her brain slammed down, effectively stopping the replay of the distressing memory.

Natalya? Shall I come to you? What has upset you?

She leaned against the shower stall wall. There was such caring in his voice. She hadn't had caring or affection in a long, long time. Don't be silly. I'm just tired. Could he see all the way into her mind? Into the places that were so dark and shadowed and beyond her own ability to see?

Her father, Soren, had been half Carpathian and half mage. He had married a human, her beloved mother, Samantha. Natalya closed her eyes tight and tried not to think about her mother and the mess the vampires had made of her. Her father had gone a little crazy and left his children, Razvan and Natalya, alone while he went seeking to find his wife's killers. He had never returned and Razvan had become her only family.

Her eyes burned at the thought of her brother. So gentle with her, so careful to make certain she used every safeguard, dead at the hand of a hunter. She put her palm on the shower door as if she could feel Vikirnoff through the partition. The hunter was alive because she had chosen to save him.

Sighing, she stepped out of the shower and dried her body, wincing a little when she touched bruises. Natalya sagged against the wall, covering her face. What would Razvan say to her if he were alive? Would he be disgusted and ashamed of her? Or would he understand? She pressed her hands over her ears as if shutting out whispered recriminations.

She didn't understand why she was so drawn to the hunter, why she even considered the possibility of being his lifemate. In the past, she'd been a witness to a woman being drawn to a hunter in spite of her intentions not to be, but Natalya was not fully Carpathian or fully human. She was also wizard, with the blood of the dark mage flowing in her veins; few had her power. She did not believe she could be successfully bound. How could she expect Razvan to believe it if she did not? And how could she expect his understanding? She had the fear that he might reach out from his grave to condemn her.

Opening the bathroom door, she stood across the room from the badly injured hunter and wondered why she had been so determined to see him live. Natalya pulled on a pair of soft drawstring pants and a long sleeve shirt and stood watching Vikirnoff. He appeared to be dead. She couldn't detect the faintest breath of air moving through his lungs, but she didn't want to get that close to him yet. She still had the task of giving him blood.

You do not have to do anything so abhorrent to you, kislany. It is not necessary. I will survive.

Natalya stiffened. Had he been awake the entire time, a shadow in her mind? Why

couldn't she tell when he was merged with her?

"What are you calling me? What is Kish-lah-knee'?"

The emphasis is on the first syllable. Kish-lah-knee. It means "little girl."

Natalya sucked in her breath, anger rising instantly. "What else have you called me?" She was no little girl, no baby, and she damned well wasn't afraid of him. Well, maybe that wasn't altogether true, but she refused to be intimidated when the hunter was so gravely wounded. She pushed up her sleeve in a business-like manner and forced herself across the room.

I called you my "little slip of a girl" and, "forever mine."

The weariness in his voice tugged at her heart in spite of her anger. He was using too much energy when he needed desperately to conserve. "I am not a 'slip of a girl' or a 'little girl,'" she declared. "I'm a grown woman and I expect you to treat me with respect."

As you do me?

She slashed her wrist and pressed it to his mouth. Pain knifed through her, but she stuck her chin in the air and accepted it. She wasn't going to feel guilty. He was a hunter, for heaven's sake. One of her greatest enemies, she'd saved his life, that should have been enough.

"You are not a "little slip of a girl"." But you are ainaak enyem, "forever mine." I thank you for taking care of me when you are uncertain if it is the right thing to do.

"Don't thank me. I don't want your thanks. Just hurry up and get better so I can throw you out. Maybe your prince will come and take you home with him and get you out of my hair."

And this night she dared not summon her dream of Razvan as she did each time she slept. She loved to go to sleep and call on her childhood memories of her twin so she could spend time with him. They had always met in their dreams and exchanged whatever each of them had been taught. It was all she had left to her, but not this time. She didn't dare face him, not with a hunter sleeping in her bed and her blood flowing in his veins. Not even when Razvan was dead.

I do not belong with the prince. I belong with you.

Natalya sighed and waited until he politely closed the gash on her wrist with his tongue. His touch was a velvet rasp that sent heat right up her arm. "I don't think we're right for one another. You don't even like me, Vikirnoff. My grandmother couldn't have been a true lifemate to her Carpathian if she fell in love with my grandfather. I was told the binding words only work on a true pair. I do not think we are true lifemates. We aren't compatible."

Vikirnoff opened his eyes. She had forgotten how black his eyes were. How intense his

gaze was. Even in the darkness she could see that he had night vision, just as she did. "Rhiannon was with her true lifemate. Xavier murdered her lifemate and imprisoned her."

"She was in love with Xavier. I've heard many stories about their life together. Their time was short, but they lived every moment together happy."

His tongue moistened his dry lips. Natalya's heart jumped. She couldn't stand to see him in pain. "There was a war, Natalya. People were being killed. Do you believe she would have been happy? Would you have been? Xavier wanted immortality. He had longevity, but only Carpathians could live on and on. He was a powerful wizard but he couldn't find a way to live forever as he wanted." His voice trailed off.

"Don't talk anymore. We don't need to do this now." She didn't want to think about Xavier or her troubled nightmares of him. She didn't want to think about her father or mother. Most of all she didn't want to think about Razvan. "Please, just go to sleep and do me the courtesy of staying out of me mind."

His eyes closed. That is an unreasonable request. If I do not share your mind, how can I see to your health and safety and happiness? It is my duty as your lifemate to provide these things.

Natalya sat with her back to the wall, knees drawn up, guns beside her, knives and sword within arm's reach. She laid her head on her knees and closed her eyes. "It isn't unreasonable at all. If it makes me happy to have privacy, then it stands to reason you should honor my request."

There was a long silence. So long she didn't think he was going to answer. You are confused about what is between us and you are emotional. It can be difficult at first adjusting to what seems an intrusion in your life.

Natalya allowed herself to relax. She needed sleep desperately and couldn't understand why Vikirnoff hadn't fully succumbed to the leaden state that took the Carpathian people when the sun was high. She preferred to sleep in the afternoon, and the sun burned her eyes, but she could push past the discomfort and go outside as long as her skin was protected. She probably should have gone out and found blood for herself, but frankly, she was too tired.

"I'm an intrusion in your life as well," she pointed out. "We don't have to give in to this thing." Whatever the thing was.

Vikirnoff was silent even longer. She didn't understand and he couldn't really blame her. He had to admire her, going against her beliefs to aid him. Guilt surrounded her, ate at her along with her complete bewilderment. The pull between lifemates was extremely strong and she felt it every bit as deeply as he. It is not a choice, ainaak enyem. Without you the darkness would take me. I cannot allow that to happen and neither can you. You know how evil the vampire is. I have fought such creatures most of my life. I will not become the undead. Not even for my misguided lifemate.

Damn him. He had a way of turning her words around on her. She bit at her knuckles to keep from ranting at him. He believed what he was saying. Worse, she believed it as well. She let her breath out slowly, waiting until she was calm. "You would become a vampire? Why?"

A Carpathian male cannot exist for all time without his lifemate. We are two halves of the same whole. You are the light to my darkness and without you, I have two choices. To seek the dawn or to succumb to that darkness. I have waited too long to make the first choice.

She detested the honesty in his voice. She detested everything about the situation. "So Carpathian males turn into vampires. That's where vampires come from."

This was not taught to you ?

"Who would teach it to me?" Natalya sighed. "No wonder you hunters are a such a murderous lot. That's why I feel the darkness in you. You are very much like the vampire."

Yes and no.

"This is just great news. My intended is the undead waiting to happen. Do I have a neon sign stamped on my forehead? If you're a bloodsucking evil monster, willing to murder and wreak havoc, please apply."

She felt his faint amusement and tried not to smile when she was so exasperated with the situation. "Go to sleep. And Vikirnoff, I have my own darkness in me. I cannot be your light. There's been a mistake. I just haven't figured out what to do about it yet."