Beneath The Shadows of Evil... Torn

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Beneath The Shadows of Evil... Torn Page 22

by Jolynn Raymond


  In the end, Lucian decided he would keep a sharp eye out for her himself. There were far too many ways in and out of the castle to watch for one man, but he could set himself up near the servants’ stairway and simply see if she made any attempt to slip away. It would be an odd thing to anyone who saw him, that much was true, but they wouldn’t know exactly whom it was he was watching, and that was what mattered.

  Sighing, knowing he had a long day ahead of him, Lucian went back to the servants stairs and found himself a place to sit, at least until his Master would be rising. He couldn’t wait to share this news with Mikhal the Merciless. Mikhal would know what to do, and then he wouldn’t have to worry anymore about offending Lady Arcos or Natalya with his actions if he tore the traitorous wench limb from limb.

  Chapter Sixteen

  While Lucian kept watch over the servants’ stairwell, Natalya woke from a fitful sleep full of troubling dreams of the cocky, infuriating vampire. Memories of him coming up behind her, his hair tickling the nape of her neck, his words soft, sensual, as he told her he would undo her laces, his hands poised to do just that, made her shiver and swipe a hand across her eyes as if to wipe away his dark piercing gaze. The man had filled her dreams, giving her a troubled sleep, and now he haunted her still, even though the real world was about her once again.

  What was it about him? Why did he affect her so? She wanted nothing to do with men and their demanding needs. Yes he was handsome, but others had been, yes he was charming, but again, she had dealt with charms before she had wed. Was there something that drew her to him like a night bird to the stars? Was it magickal? She hadn’t allowed him to gaze into her eyes since their first meeting but did he have some other hold?

  He was one of them, and Natalya knew she should be as repulsed as Alliana was by the evil creatures that haunted these castle walls, but she couldn’t feel that way towards the dark and mysterious Lucian. He seemed anything but a monster, and certainly anything but cold and dead.

  Again the thought of his trickery came to her, but to her knowledge, he hadn’t done that thing with his eyes again or anything else. He hadn’t tried to entrance her, hadn’t given her a potion, slipped a trinket into her pocket or around her neck, and she wouldn’t have let him if he had tried. Alliana’s godmother had spoken of no other magick his kind possessed, so it wasn’t that, but what was it? Why on earth did she find such an infuriating man invading her dreams and making her feel so very uneasy? And why oh why did she also find him so very intriguing?

  “Stop it. Just stop it. He isn’t worth your time or energy. You’ve things to do.” Heaven help her, the man even had her talking to herself. She went to the basin of water cracking the thin layer of ice that had formed on the surface, and wondered where on earth Hannah was as she did so. It was late, very late, she could feel it, yet the girl hadn’t come to wake her, as was their custom now days, and she certainly hadn’t come to tend the fire. The room was frigid. The girl had been absent last night as well. Was she up to something or had some ill fate befallen her? Natalya didn’t know, but she would have to find out later. It was a matter of some importance, but right now there were other things to be done.

  She reached behind her and felt the knot in the cords of her gown that had become even more substantial after she’d slept in it, and retrieved a knife from the table where she often ate. Giving no regard to the garment, and not caring for the thing that had given her so much grief, Natalya cut the material down the front and removed it, then changed into a much simpler dress. It was the one she’d had on when Lord Arcos had taken her from her camp, and it would certainly do for her morning work in the special kitchen chamber that had been prepared for her.

  It was vital she make the needed potion before leaving for the village that day. Young Bethany’s aunt, Rowen, was due to give birth at any time and no midwife would be without this particular tonic during a woman’s labor. It would help keep her body strong for the birth and had done well in preparing her womb for what was to come. Natalya had run out just the night before, and she wanted to be certain to have another bottle of the potion when she went today. The birth could occur anytime now. Rowen wasn’t certain how far along she was and Natalya couldn’t precisely tell, not without having been with her from the beginning. Perhaps if it had been a normal pregnancy, one in which the babe had grown properly and hadn’t been in peril, but as it was, the woman’s time could come tomorrow or in a few weeks’ time.

  She and Lucian had seen Rowen just that past night, and it was clear the babe had turned. Perhaps it was ready to drop into position so it could make its way into the world. Natalya wasn’t foreseeing any problems, but one never knew. The last few weeks of Rowen’s pregnancy had gone without incident, thanks in part to the fact that Samuel had no choice but to allow his wife peace and Natalya had to admit she was thankful for the strong armed tactics Lucian had played on the man each night of their visit. It was clear Samuel still hated her; he’d shown that just yesterday when she and Alliana had been there alone, but he hadn’t dare to really try and hurt them.

  If given the chance, Samuel would have surely been a brute and would have forced his wife to work like a slave to serve him, and in turn lost the child. Most men seemed to feel they could simply mount their wives once again and produce another brat if the one who had miscarried had proved to be too weak to be born. Some openly said it was for the best for then the child would have been feeble and unable to work for their share of the family’s food. They didn’t understand or care that sometimes their wives simply needed to be treated with kindness and allowed to remain abed for both mother and child to be fine. Lucian’s interventions, his scowls, and unveiled threats had taken care of that however in this case. Samuel dared as much as he could during the day, but at night he behaved very much like the gentleman he wasn’t.

  These thoughts made her think of Lucian yet again and caused Natalya to frown. He was quite a mystery to her still. One that she was certain was better left unsolved. The man was arrogant, far too sure of himself, ill mannered, and far too presumptuous when it came to her. It was clear Lord Arcos’s first in command was used to getting what he wanted in the way of women, but Natalya had decided early on that she would not be yet another conquest in his bed. She had her freedom now, such as it was, and she wasn’t about to give it up by becoming tied to a man. Men were bullish and domineering and far too demanding and she’d had enough of that from her husband. No, she would let the brooding vampire find his pleasures elsewhere. She had no desire to submit to the pawing and commands of a man again, be he demon or human. His eyes and words promised sweet pleasures, but Natalya doubted women could truly feel such things. Not so as it was worth discarding her freedom anyway.

  During their nightly visits they had taken to verbal sparring in an effort to relieve the tension that inevitably built up between them. Each berating the other, then him baiting her, trying to ignite her ire with some quip about how sharp her tongue was or how her fiery temper was intolerable, and she’d fire back at him telling him it was just as well that he didn’t care for her, because she despised him as well, after which he would make a few suggestive comments about taming her so she would be much more to his liking and then adding a few subtle touches here and there, squeezing his thighs around her bottom, tightening his arms about her waist. She ignored him, ignored his hard muscled body on the outside, but heaven help her, on the inside at times her heart raced. Little did she know that he heard every beat. All she could focus on at those times was that fact that it was a good thing those touches were as far as he ever dared to go. As to the other time they spent together, once they arrived at the village, or returned home, they took to avoiding each other once more. Close proximity was dangerous.

  Yes, it seemed that no matter what transpired on the back of his horse when they were forced to be so near each other, they had taken to avoiding each other at all costs when within the castle walls. This was just as well as far as Natalya was concerned, because a
dmit it or not, she was attracted to him and that was the very last thing she wanted. His touch, his manly scent, the press of his thighs to hers, all of those things stirred a fire in her, but it was one she refused to acknowledge. Submitting meant becoming owned once more, and no man would ever dominate her again.

  This was easier said than done however, because she had never learned how to deal with the vast array of feelings both emotional and physical that Lucian caused in her, and little did she know, but the problem went both ways. Lucian in turn had found that he could only resist her if he kept Natalya out of his sight as much as possible. His body longed for her passionately but his mind screamed at him to let her be.

  She was claimed. He told himself that over and over, making sure the vampire in him knew it had to respect his Master. He stayed in his chambers for most of the day, even when he wasn’t resting, unless he was doing something for Mikhal, even though he was the one who had called the castle home long before the red headed Gypsy wench took up residence. It was the only way he found solace, for thoughts of the fiery woman even plagued his dreams every time he slept.

  No, looking at Natalya, being with Natalya, especially when she was pressed so intimately between his legs every night, was a very dangerous activity for him. It wasn't the mere glimpse of her breast swelling over her gowns that stirred him, or her scent, or her wit, it was a combination of all of that and more. She was unlike any other woman he’d known. Confident and intelligent, beautiful and alluring, yet seemingly naive when it came to true passion and what a man could do to a woman.

  The few times he had made mention to how he could stir a fire deep inside her, she had stared at him not with anger or disgust, but with disbelief and disinterest. He knew she had been married, but it seemed as though the fool hadn’t taken care to pleasure his wife. No wonder she was so very adverse to his charms, what had she to gain by letting him take her?

  Lucian had come to all these conclusions and feelings about Natalya during their long rides each night, and yet every time he thought of having her, every time he teased her, even last night when he had gone to her chamber hoping to catch more than a glimpse of her body, every time he thought of showing her what pleasures could be found with a man who took his time to ignite the female body in the oh so subtlest of ways, he would remind himself to whom she belonged and know he had to repress his feelings. He had to wait until she came to him. It had to be a mutual need, a shared desire, or their relationship could never be. Mikhal the Merciless had been very clear in regards to Natalya. She was off limits, but Lucian thought perhaps that if Natalya herself came to the point where she desired him as much as he her, then his Master might relent, but up until that time, he knew he had to leave her be.

  Natalya wasn’t aware of Lucian’s thoughts about her, but she did know she was disgusted yet again when her mind kept wandering to the vampire with the dark hooded eyes.

  “Enough of this! Just stop it Natalya!" She angrily exclaimed to herself. I need to stop thinking about him and get to work. Maybe moving around will help." She went next door to her new kitchen, and gathered up the needed herbs. Most were on the table near the huge fireplace, the rest she retrieved from the shelves. She chose a large kettle from the array of pots and pans stacked on the shelves and carried it to the fireplace too.

  "Let's see what herbs I need, black cohosh, blue cohosh, bayberry, valerian, and ginger root and of course a bucket of spring water.” She set the needed jars in a row; the ones needed first nearest to her, the bayberry being last, then ladled a bucketful of spring water from the barrel in the corner and took it to the hearth, pouring it into the huge kettle.

  Natalya flipped through her magick book to make certain she knew the correct amounts even though she’d made this particular tonic a hundred times, until she found the right page, then set it aside, ready to begin.

  She stirred the bubbling pot as it began to boil and added the necessary ingredients one by one distractedly as her thoughts tried over and over to turn back to Lucian. Working slowly, the mixture thickened, bit by bit as the tonic bubbled and the water evaporated. After a while she let it be. It wasn’t until the last that she added the bayberry and the valerian. There was nothing to do but wait and let it boil.

  Natalya scowled and paced the length of the kitchen, the waiting doing nothing to take her mind off a certain dark eyed demon. Would nothing help her today? Pure will had failed to keep the vampire from her mind and now making the potion, as a diversion wasn’t helping either. He was rude and only had one thing on his mind when it came to her, that much she was certain of, so why couldn’t she simply dismiss him? Why?

  "Oh damnation Natalya, just stop it. You've worried over him long enough. Just finish the tonic and go see Alliana, maybe that will help.” Natalya ran a hand back through her hair then had to smile at herself. “And stop talking to yourself, people will think you’ve gone mad. Then again, if Lucian thinks I’m daft, perhaps he’ll stop looking at me with those infuriating eyes!”

  This time she laughed out loud, her foul mood broken, and she reached for the remaining herbs she needed to finish the tonic. She ground up the dried valerian root with the mortar and pestle and reached over the kettle, sprinkling the herbs over the surface of the boiling potion then shook out a handful of the bayberry and tossed it in as well.

  The sudden explosion shocked her and sent her staggering backwards into the table, almost knocking her from her feet as the boiling potion sprayed up from the kettle, splattering her dress and face. The force of the blast also knocked over the oil lamp that was sitting there. The glass base of the lamp shattered along with the chimney and the oil quickly spread over the table, igniting everything in its path. The linen tablecloth went up in flames and fire ran down one of the table legs. Smoke began to fill the air as a wall hanging near the table caught fire.

  Turning and seeing the spreading flames, Natalya grabbed the wall hanging with both hands and yanked it down onto the table, doing her best to ignore the burning skin on her body. Then she pulled a rug from the floor and flung it on top and began to beat down on the rug to try and smother the flames. The tasseled edges lit and the fire burned her arms and singed her hair. She became disoriented when billowing puffs of smoke filled her eyes and nose, and finally she screamed for help, wondering as she did so where everyone was. Surely someone had heard the explosion.

  "Fire. Help me! Fire."

  Unfortunately Alliana and Mikhal were strolling in the shadows of the courtyard after breakfast, but Lucian’s keen hearing did pick up on that oh so familiar voice calling out in terror. At first he thought it was a dream, for he had dozed off at his place near the stairs, but then Natalya’s cries came again.

  “Someone please. Help me. Fire!”

  Natalya leaned over the table and continued to bat at the rising flames in a manic need to put out the fire. She had lost all sense in her panic, and saw it as the only means of salvation, though the barrel of water drawn from the spring sat in the corner of the chamber. Some of the oil from the broken lamp dripped down from the table edge and onto Natalya's dress. The tiny flames began to burn holes through the material, hungry for fuel, singeing skin that had already been scorched by the boiling potion. Natalya felt her legs begin to burn and couldn't help but scream in pain.

  "Get back!" Lucian yelled as he pushed her away and threw another rug on the flames, heedless of the peril to himself when he saw her predicament. Fire was one of the few things that could kill his kind, but this was Natalya in danger. This rug he had chosen was heavier that the other and denied the hungry fire oxygen, smothering it and putting out the flames. Natalya came forward again intent on helping but he turned on her, barking an order he expected the stubborn woman to follow.

  "No! I'll do it. Stay back." He beat down with his hands time and time again until the flames were finally extinguished. When he was done, he turned once more, and then saw her and his heart felt heavy with pain for the first time in many, many years.

&n
bsp; Natalya was slumped against the wall in a daze. Her hair was singed and coated with soot, her arms, legs, and hands were burned, as was a small portion of her cheek, and she was having a hard time breathing because of the smoke. Her face was streaked with soot except for two clean trails that had been made by her tears. He’d never seen her so vulnerable, and it made his dead heart swell with a feeling that he hardly recognized.

  "It's over." He whispered gently as he knelt in front of her. "Let me see to your burns. Lucian reached for her hands and she winced as he held them, but didn’t pull away. He turned her hands over and gazed at her palms. They were blistered and glowed an angry shade of red, definitely in need of attention.

  “Be still now. I can heal you.” He raised one hand and gently began to lap at the tortured flesh, licking her burns, allowing the healing qualities of his saliva to tend to her wounds. He felt her shiver as he worked and knew not if it was from pain or from his actions, but he didn’t stop. He knew he couldn’t. The burns were serious and she had to allow him to help her.

  He move to her other hand and did the same, then tore the tattered burned fabric of her dress up each arm and proceeded to lap his way from her wrists to her elbows, tending each blister, healing each burn, licking and lapping, making them better, chasing away the pain with his cool mouth, making her mind swirl from the sensations of burning pain and the soothing chill of his ministrations.

  Through it all Natalya kept her eyes shut. She had watched him at first, fascinated; then closed her eyes. It was too much, his nearness, the shock of what had happened, the feel of his mouth on her skin. She knew somewhere inside that this was wrong. Never should another man kiss her so, but how could she stop him? He was healing her and she hurt so very badly.

 

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