Darkest Nyte

by Darkest Nyte (lit)

Heal Nyte’s amnesia.

  She felt the energy within him, let it guide her hands across his body. They shifted down his chest, then to the right. A feeling of agitation skittered through her, indicating an area of energy disruption. She needed to feed energy to it and smooth out the flow. She shifted to the center of the disturbance.

  Instead of feeling heat, as she would expect from a recent hurt, she felt intense cold. The energy pulsed in her palms, like a live thing snuggling against her flesh, but as she concentrated on healing the wound, it drained from her hands as if the extreme cold was sucking the life from her. She concentrated on drawing more energy through her body, to feed the frigid hole.

  A swirling torrent swept through her. Dizziness. Disorientation. Pain. Blackness.

  More energy. She needed to draw more. She felt it quiver through her body like electricity through a wire. But it wasn’t enough to fill the deep well of agony within him. She felt herself dragged down, falling into the icy depths of hell.

  "Lucinda, what’s wrong?"

  Nyte’s words sounded very far away. She struggled to drag herself from the cataclysmic pull, but the need to close that gaping wound and heal the anguish blocking memory from his conscious mind was too strong.

  "Lucinda!"

  Warm hands covered her own and dragged them from his body. At the sudden disconnection, her eyelids popped open and the world seemed to spin around her. She realized she was sprawled across Nyte’s body. He held her hands firmly within his own, and he rubbed them vigorously as his dark gaze, filled with concern, searched her face.

  "Lucinda, you should not have put yourself in danger to help me."

  He sat up and drew her onto his lap. As he held her against his chest, he stroked her back gently. She shivered in his embrace. He tugged the afghan around her shoulders and she welcomed its warmth.

  Had she been in danger? She’d never experienced anything like that before, where she felt she might lose herself in the process of healing. She’d never felt anything so disturbing.

  She shook uncontrollably and he held her closer, pressing her cheek in a comforting position against his chest.

  "My God, Nyte, what happened to you?"

  "I don’t know, Lucinda. That’s why I’m here." His words were calm, spoken in a reassuring tone. He continued to stroke her back in short, soothing caresses.

  A disturbing thought bolted through her. Tomorrow afternoon she would start training him. As he attained his magical powers, he would probably regain his memories.

  When his memory did return, what horrific incident would he have to face?

  * * * *

  The next morning, after Lucinda went to her office, Nyte sat down with the small stack of magazines she had left for him, then quickly read and discarded them. He perused a few books from her shelf, but he wanted to find out about the current culture, so he turned to the television, which Lucinda had shown him how to operate last night. He found the commercials absolutely fascinating.

  When Lucinda returned at noon, Nyte was watching a documentary. She piled a new set of magazines in the magazine rack, then announced she would start Nyte’s training that afternoon.

  He looked forward to learning how to work magic, but more importantly, he knew it was the way to unlock the secrets of his past.

  After lunch, she led him to a large room across the back of the house. Every wall was lined with bookshelves, except where a worktable stood against one and a desk against another. Her preference for a bright decor reflected in this room. The furniture was all white, and paintings of cool pastel shades decorated the walls.

  A crystal ball sat in a prominent place on one of the shelves and several crystal pendulums hung on hooks behind it. She had a wide selection of colored stones--ranging from bright and speckled to subdued and translucent--in various clear bowls around the room.

  One small shelving unit, mounted over a table, was dedicated to tiny pewter figures of dragons and wizards in various poses.

  Nyte watched as Lucinda selected a large, moss green, leather-bound book from one shelf and set it on the desk in front of her, then started flipping through the pages.

  He looked forward to exercising this energy field she’d explained to him.

  Magic. It seemed such a natural concept. He had no idea why she thought he would doubt it, yet he had no trouble accepting the fact that most people would have trouble believing in it. Odd. Once his memory returned, perhaps it would make more sense to him.

  He wished he understood what had happened to Lucinda during her attempt to heal his amnesia last night. He had enjoyed the feel of her hands on him, and the deep, soothing warmth where she’d touched his chest--until he’d sensed something was wrong. He’d dragged himself from the wonderful haze of healing to see Lucinda’s eyes draining of light. He’d actually felt her growing weaker. His heart clenched.

  He didn’t think he’d ever known fear before that moment.

  "Are you ready to start?" she asked.

  Lucinda smiled in his direction and he could tell she was anticipating this as much as he was.

  He smiled in return. "As ready as you are."

  She removed her necklace--a clear crystal rod, pointed at one end and rounded on the other which hung from a delicate silver chain.

  "We’ll start by having you move something without touching it."

  He wanted to say that he’d already done that with her, but he bit back the words, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate being reminded of how she’d reacted to the attraction between them. During yesterday’s kiss, she’d been swept away by her own response, and clearly it had alarmed her. Now, he only had to get close to her and she skittered away.

  Just as well. He didn’t think either of them could withstand the overwhelming attraction between them if they actually touched.

  "Feel the energy flowing through your body," Lucinda instructed. "Feel it flowing through your arms to your hands."

  He felt a lot of things flowing through his body, and not just energy, but he focused on her words and concentrated.

  She held her arm straight out at her side, the necklace dangling from her finger.

  "Now hold up your hand and point at the pendant. Imagine the energy leaving your fingertips and shooting across the room toward it. Concentrate on focusing the energy. Try to overshoot the target so you have a good amount of momentum."

  He felt warmth flow through him, like overheated blood flooding his veins. But it was more potent than that. Less restricted. It surged across his shoulders and down his arms. He focused on the crystal pendant, determined to move it. The energy burst from his fingertips and he could sense it blasting across the room in a steady stream.

  "At first you may only nudge it a little, but--"

  The energy hit the pendant and it swung wildly. As he watched its erratic jostling, he concentrated on the energy streaming from his fingers, focusing it to a tight, steady flow. The necklace swung upwards. He willed the energy to follow it, up and around, completing a full revolution, then continued until it swung in a circle, like a propeller. He smiled, pleased with his effort, though it felt more like a child’s game than a serious attempt at magic.

  Once he had it at a steady state, he glanced at Lucinda. Her wide-eyed look of shock surprised him. He broke off the energy flow and the pendant dropped, bounced a few times, then settled into a mild swing.

  Lucinda’s gaze turned to him and he could see she was trying to tamp down her astonishment. Clearly, he had surpassed her expectations.

  "That was ... very good. You seem to be a natural at this."

  She sat down at the table and referred to the book she’d opened earlier. She dragged her finger down the page. "Well, I think we can skip some of these other exercises." She glanced at him. "How do you feel? Tired?"

  On the contrary, energy seemed to crackle through him, enhancing every one of his senses.

  "Not at all. I feel quite invigorated."

  "I see. Okay, then...." She flipped a few page
s then brushed her hand down the center of the book to smooth down the pages. "Let’s try levitation."

  Chapter 6

  Lucinda watched the large boa constrictor slither past her toward Merlin, who was curled up asleep on the carpet under the worktable. The snake opened its gigantic jaws. As its mouth bore down on Merlin, he opened his eyes. His ears flicked down flat and he hissed into the huge mouth.

  Nyte chuckled and the snake disappeared.

  Merlin blinked, then slowly stood up. His fur had spiked in all directions and he resembled a black pinecone with a long, bushy squirrel’s tail. He shook himself, smoothing his fur down to its usual sleekness, then glared at Lucinda. He turned his back on her and stalked toward Nyte, then leaped onto his lap.

  It wasn’t my fault. It was Nyte’s illusion.

  Merlin curled up, keeping his back toward her.

  Fine, be like that.

  She watched as Nyte’s large, strong hand stroked Merlin’s glossy, black fur.

  "I think it’s time for a break," she suggested. "I’ll go fix something to eat."

  She went to the kitchen and retrieved a large pot of homemade soup from the fridge, then served up two bowls and popped them in the microwave.

  Nyte was an excellent student. He mastered everything she explained after one try. It was as if he’d always known how to work magic but had only forgotten. Which would make sense if he were a wizard with amnesia. He wouldn’t be learning new things, he’d be remembering what he already knew.

  It seemed that part of Rand’s story--that Nyte was a wizard from the past--was true. If that was true, she couldn’t help wondering what else was true.

  "You seem deep in thought."

  She turned to see Nyte standing in the doorway, Merlin draped across his shoulder, purring.

  "Either you’re a prodigy of some sort, or Rand never told me I was the slowest wizard who ever lived." On the contrary, he had told her she’d advanced very quickly, but modesty prevented her from admitting that. "It took me two months to levitate a thimble and I’d been in training for at least six months before I could form even the simplest illusions, and yet you have mastered levitation in only an hour and are creating illusions real enough to scare the wits out of Merlin."

  Merlin’s ears flicked forward then back again, the only indication he’d heard his name.

  "Obviously, you’re an excellent teacher."

  Merlin sneezed, then blinked at Nyte as though questioning his sanity.

  She ignored the cat and shook her head. "That’s not it and you know it."

  He drew Merlin from his shoulder and placed him on the floor. "What do you think is the answer?"

  "It seems clear Rand was right that you’re a wizard from the past."

  He stepped toward her, a serious expression on his face. "Is it the fact that I’m from the past that bothers you, or something else?"

  How could she answer that? Rand had told her a lot of other things about Nyte and she didn’t want to believe any of them. She turned to the microwave and opened the door. The humming stopped. She stirred the bowls of soup, then closed the door and pressed the start button. The humming resumed. When she turned around again, he was watching her intently.

  "Lucinda, I know Randalph has told you things about me, and obviously you’re starting to believe them." He stepped closer. "What has he told you?"

  "He told me a lot of things."

  He was getting too close for comfort, so she tugged open the drawer and snatched out two soup spoons, then thrust them into his hands.

  "Like?"

  The microwave beeped, so she opened the door and pulled out the two bowls, one at a time, and placed them on plates, then strode to the table.

  "That first day ... he told me you were trying to trick me. That you didn’t really have amnesia."

  She sat down and pushed the flower arrangement from the center of the small rectangular table to the edge near the wall so she’d be able to see Nyte across the table. The new lilacs she’d brought in this morning already looked a little ragged around the edges, thanks to Merlin.

  "I assure you, I’m not trying to trick you." He set the spoons on the table and sat down across from her. "If I were, I would attempt to hide my abilities. I would pretend I couldn’t do anything and progress slowly. Instead, I want to learn as fast as possible. I want to know who I am and what happened as much as you do."

  He leaned toward her. "What else did he tell you?"

  She stared at her soup, dipping her spoon into the broth. "He told me you were dangerous."

  "Yes, I remember. And he insinuated I would hurt you." The tightness of his voice hinted at contained anger. "But I would never do that. You must know that by now."

  She glanced at him, her eyebrows raised. "How could I possibly know that? I don’t know you." She pointed her spoon at him. "And if you have amnesia, you don’t know you either."

  "But I do know," his no-nonsense tone startled her, "you are my woman. I would never hurt you."

  "I’m not your woman," she automatically denied.

  But his words sparked the memory of Rand telling her how Nyte had hurt another woman. A woman he’d supposedly loved. From what she knew of Nyte, in both his actions and the sense of rightness of character she felt from him, she believed him to be an honorable man. A man who would cherish and protect a woman he cared about.

  But neither of them knew what had happened before the accident that had robbed him of his memory. What if he had killed the woman named Clarissa? It could have been an accident. Or--another disturbing possibility occurred to her--what if Rand had been having an affair with her and Nyte had found out? Could he have struck out at her in a fit of jealous rage? If he had killed her, the shock of facing what he’d done could have triggered his amnesia. It would allow him to avoid the unbearable pain.

  From her attempt to heal him last night, she knew he had suffered something deeply traumatic.

  Maybe Rand had been telling the truth.

  Nyte’s dark eyes turned solemn. "Lucinda, why are you looking at me like that?"

  She shook her head and dipped her spoon into the soup again. "I-I was wondering what it must be like to have no idea who you are or what happened to you. Have you had any memories return?"

  He sighed. "No, not as such. There are things I know because they feel right."

  "Like?"

  "Like my name is Nyte. It fits like a well-worn glove." He reached out and took her hand. "Like the fact you and I are meant to be together, even though you don’t believe that. Yet."

  She drew her hand from his warmth. "What about you and Rand?"

  "I know he and I knew each other. You know from his own words that he doesn’t trust me. And I reciprocate that feeling. As soon as I saw him in your living room that first day, I felt a deep anger inside and...."

  The dark intensity of his eyes disturbed her. "And what?"

  "And betrayal."

  She felt a knot form deep in her stomach. What had happened between Rand and Nyte to force them so at odds? Had Rand had an affair with the woman named Clarissa? The woman Rand said Nyte had loved.

  "Lucinda, you claim you need no help from anyone, yet clearly you rely on Rand a great deal."

  "Yes, well...." She averted her gaze, not wanting him to see the vulnerability so near the surface. "He was my mentor. He was there when I first discovered I was a wizard. You wouldn’t understand what that means, but it’s a very difficult time."

  She stood up and carried her half-empty soup bowl to the counter. "I was so alone, even though I was surrounded by my family. I didn’t understand what was happening, why I was so different." She placed the bowl in the sink. "To tell the truth, I was always different, never quite fitting in. When I went through the Change, though, there was so much to accept, so much to understand, and on top of all the normal worries of a teenager ... I needed someone special to help me through it. Rand was that person and I couldn’t help but rely on him completely."

  Nyte sto
od up. A jittery feeling started in her chest as he approached, but he stopped about an arm’s length away. His solemn gaze drew hers, and held it.

  "I wish it had been me."

  A strong sensation quivered through her. As if what he said felt right. A vision formed in her mind of Nyte’s comforting arms embracing her when the churning emotions of youth and confusion had been too much. Of his words guiding her through her first spell book. Of his companionship when she’d been lonely for the company of others of her own kind.

  Of him by her side, holding her hand through the funerals of each of her family as they left her behind. Pain simmered through her. And the long bouts of grief afterward.

  An intense wish that he had been the one, too.

  She desperately wanted to reach out to him. To go into his arms and surrender to the raging attraction between them.

  If only things were different. If only her life had progressed along normal lines, not the erratic mess it always seemed to be.

  She realized Nyte’s eyes had been steadily growing darker and he’d been easing closer to her. She licked her lips, part of her hoping he would kiss her.

  As though reading the desire in her eyes, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his own. Her lips softened under his. Aching to touch more of him, she slid her hands along the side of his whisker-roughened face, then stroked through his hair, tangling her fingers in the silky length. His arms circled around her and drew her against his firm body. She became intensely aware of her breasts. Full, round, hard-tipped. She pushed her body closer, the slight movement causing her rigid nipples to brush against the heavy texture of his sweater, causing them to swell in ever increasing arousal to an almost painful pleasure.

  The tip of his tongue slipped between her lips and her own tongue dashed forward to curl around his in open invitation. He teased with light strokes along her length until her breath caught at the intense heat swirling through her torso, sending her head into a spin.

  As the shimmering heat threatened to consume her, she silently cursed her aggravating hormones and dragged herself from the hazy trap of desire. She stared up at him, breathing heavily.