Why did the things he said hurt her? No one, other than her beloved brother, had ever been able to say things to hurt her. She kept those sensitive emotions locked away, yet Vikirnoff's words were almost as sharp and painful as the blade in her fist. Just because he didn't expect her wasn't a rejection of her, was it? And why did she care?
«Damn you to hell,» she snapped. Her fury had dissipated abruptly and tears-tears burned in her eyes. She wanted the anger back. She needed it to shield her. Why didn't he fight back? Why didn't he say or do something to give her back her rage?
Natalya clutched the knife handle until it was in danger of becoming a powder in her hands. She forced air through her lungs. «I'll just wait until you're asleep and your body is lead and I'll open the drapes and let the sun fry your worthless ass.» She kept her voice low, her words harsh, but inside she was weeping.
She wanted to kill him. He deserved death. Every hunter needed to die along with the vampires they kept in check. None of them had hearts or emotions. Yet, when she looked at him, she saw that faint light of happiness shining for her. For her. No one looked at her like that. And desire blazed in his eyes. How many times had he stepped in front of her to prevent injury from a vampire? He'd tried to send her away from the battle. As much as she wanted to be annoyed by that silly gesture, she felt protected.
Natalya shook her head, refusing to let her brain defend him. He had used some kind of mind control on her. There was no other explanation for her behavior. She would never have voluntarily touched him intimately or allowed him to touch her. Her breasts still ached and felt swollen and painful without his touch. She detested herself. Detested that she was such a weak woman around Vikirnoff Von Shrieder.
She had been jealous. Jealous. The sight of another woman touching him had been more than she could take. Her animal nature had overtaken her. What had ever possessed her parents to give her the nature of a tiger? And why hadn't she been warned about the deadly peril, so very real, a hunter could use on a woman?
She pressed fingers to her throbbing temples. She was wading in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper the more she struggled against him. Vikirnoff said nothing. All the while he lay simply watching her, propped up on one elbow, his gaze never leaving her face. She was beginning to hate his eyes. That black, fierce gaze, so intense and so hungry for her. His eyes drew her like nothing else ever had-or would. No matter how much she told herself it was wrong, it was a betrayal, she was still drawn to him. Mesmerized by him. In
lust with him. And it wasn't natural. It couldn't be.
Her inability to break his hold on her fed her temper. «I certainly have no duty to you. You have such gall to even suggest it.»
«You cannot deny you are my lifemate. Our souls call to one another.» His voice softened to a mesmerizing cadence. «Give yourself a little time, Natalya. You will get used to the idea. All of this will work out as it is meant.»
She shoved the knife back into the scabbard, her hand shaking. He was seducing her with his eyes and his voice. How could she be so susceptible? She needed armor. How could she be so confused and raw and edgy? She was never like this and yet she didn't seem to have any control over her emotions.
«I want to smother you with a pillow,» she lied, hoping to draw a response she could work with. «I can't believe you. No one could ever stand being your lifemate.» She could rage all she wanted but he knew he was pulling her in. She closed her eyes and allowed truth to pour out. «I will never be your lifemate. You killed my brother. My twin. The only person in this world that meant anything to me. Do you think for one moment that I'd save you, let alone have anything to do with you?»
Vikirnoff was silent, touching her memories lightly, seeing the man she loved, feeling her love for him. He shook his head. «I did not kill this man. I have no memory of his face and I remember each of the men I had to destroy.»
She turned away from him. To her horror, the tears she'd been fighting blurred her vision. The humiliation was unbearable. Her heart twisted with pain at the thought of her brother's death. «Not you, personally, but a hunter. One of your kind.»
«Why would a hunter take the life of your brother?»
There was no inflection in his voice. He wasn't calling her a liar, nor was he admitting such a thing could have occurred. He merely looked at her with his intense black eyes, his face etched with pain and it tore her insides out.
Natalya jerked the leather away from her abdomen to reveal the birthmark that had condemned her brother to death. «I have the same mark. You can't be my lifemate when I bear this mark. It's a death sentence. All hunters will kill us immediately when they see the mark of the wizard on our skin.» There was defiance in her voice, expectation in her eyes. She meant to shock him and readied herself for his attack on her.
Vikirnoff stared at the intricate dragon, low on her left side. He let out his breath slowly. «That is no mark of the wizard, Natalya. That is the birthmark of one of the oldest and most respected of Carpathian families. That mark is Dragonseeker. No hunter would kill a man or woman marked as Dragonseeker. It is not possible.»
Her chin went up. «Are you calling me a liar?»
Vikirnoff didn't answer her verbally. He invaded her mind. He gave her no warning and no time to stop him, pushing past her barriers so that he shared her life, the love of her brother, his laughter, his caring, the way the two of them were forced to live, hiding and running from place to place, always ahead of the enemy.
Natalya didn't take the merging lightly. She tried to fight him off, to put up blocks, but there was a ruthless quality to Vikirnoff. He pushed further, uniting them together until he saw what he was looking for. She hated the invasion of her mind. To her, it was almost worse than if he had invaded her body. She lifted her hands and gracefully sketched symbols in the air between them, an attempt at erecting a shield to protect her memories, her thoughts, the very essence of who and what she was from him.
The symbols burned brightly in the air for a brief moment, orange and yellow and gold, then slowly faded, leaving her vulnerable.
Her resistance to their merging surprised Vikirnoff, but he ignored it, intent on finding the memories that had shaped Natalya's distrust of Carpathians.
Natalya's grief over the death of her twin was wild and without end. Totally immeasurable. It was still as sharp-edged and painful as the day she had learned her brother, Razvan, was dying. Vikirnoff caught the echo of her brother's name in her cry of sorrow. Her brother had connected with her on a private mental path, in pain, laboring for breath, reaching out one last time with a warning for her to avoid the Carpathian hunters. To run while she could and stay hidden from the scrutiny of that dangerous race. They were liars. Deceivers. And they would kill her the moment they saw that mark. The dragon was the mark of death.
Razvan had been in agony, but he had held on long enough to send the warning to his beloved twin sister. Abruptly, before she could tell him she loved him, he was gone from her. She had never found his body-or his killer. He had not shown her the battle, or the face of his murderer.
«It had to be a vampire,» Vikirnoff said, totally shaken as he pulled out of her mind. Her emotions were so raw, so intense, he felt them, too. He took several deep breaths to stay in control. «There is no other explanation. You know they are deceivers. Every one of them.»
«It was no vampire,» she hissed back. «Razvan knew the difference. Your people waged war on my people simply because a Carpathian cannot stand to lose his woman to another man. My grandmother left her lifemate and it started a war. If Carpathian males can go to war over such a thing, they are perfectly capable of murdering my brother.»
«Your grandmother, Rhiannon of the Dragonseekers, was kidnapped and her lifemate murdered. She was murdered. That is the truth, Natalya, and somewhere deep inside of you, you are very much aware of it or you would have killed me when I stepped between you and the vampire.»
«Shut up!» She pressed her hands over her ears, but she couldn't stop
the way her mind tuned itself to his. The way her heart sought the rhythm of his. Or the way her body burned for him.
And she couldn't bear to be reminded she had nearly killed him. She had allowed the tigress freedom and her claws had shredded his skin from neck to waist.
He closed his eyes in weariness. «I am sorry for the death of your brother. In truth, we all have lost loved ones in the battle against evil.»
The knock on the door saved Natalya from having to answer him. Slavica opened the door cautiously. «May I come in?»
«Yes, do,» Natalya said. «You're welcome to take care of him.» She had to get away, get her wild emotions under control. She had never felt such an emotional roller-coaster and never wanted to again. Exhausted, trying to hide tears, she snatched up clean clothes and ran for the bathroom. «I'm going to take a shower.»
Chapter 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 admitte
d, 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.
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