At that thought she paused, wondering if she really wanted this male in her home. He did after all come from hell — he was The Dark One!
Rune whined again and curled up beside the male, imploring her with his eyes to help him.
Aubreigne smoothed the hair from The Dark One’s face and jumped to her feet. “I’ll be back,” she promised, though he was unconscious and couldn’t hear her, it didn’t matter — she was talking to her wolf. She ran to the bathroom and gathered washcloths and towels before running back into the living room and tossing them in his general direction. Then she returned to the bathroom and filled a small bucket with warm water. Returning to the living room she set it down beside him and taking a washcloth in hand began to slowly, methodically clean his body. She started with his face and neck, working her way down his chest to the rest of him. She worked clinically, removing what small bit of clothing he wore as she went. She stopped twice to dump the water and replace it with fresh.
Once she had him acceptably clean, though not as clean as she’d like him, she hurried to Deaumanique’s room and pulled the quilt from her bed. Returning to the living room, she spread it out beside him, then gathered up the towels and dried him. Having finished that, she reached for his arm and used her body weight to pull him over onto his stomach, and in so doing, onto the quilt. Once she had his back to her, she bathed the back of his body as well before drying him.
Aubreigne turned him over once more, which left him almost in the middle of the quilt. Standing over him, she took in the marks on his body. It was evident the activities he’d been involved in, and on top of that he appeared to have been beaten. He had several scrapes and cuts that were inflamed, and the bite marks and bruising on his body were enough to make her queasy. She was no fool — she knew exactly what he’d done to incur those.
Gathering the soiled towels and washcloths, she took the bucket of water with her and returned it all to the bathroom. She poured out the water, and hung the washcloths and towels over the tub to dry. Then, she moved toward her collection of liniments and poultices. She chose two. One that would be applied to the infected cuts and scratches, and another that would be smoothed over the bites and bruises. Aubreigne placed both jars into the bucket, then went to her bedroom and took one of her pillows off her bed, taking it with her back into the living room where her naked, unconscious, very ill, sometimes cruel - sometimes kind, and sometimes even frightened mate, lay at her mercy.
Aubreigne set the bucket to the side of the sofa nearest his head, where he’d surely see it, if he woke needing to empty his stomach. She lifted his head and rested it on her pillow, then set to work applying her homemade medicines to his body. Once done she folded the quilt around him and covered him with the throw blanket she kept on the sofa. She started a fire and stoked it high, then went to the kitchen to make him an herbed tea for the fever. She had no idea who he spoke of when he’d said he thought someone had killed him, but she knew he wasn’t dead yet, and if she could help it he wouldn’t be. He was hateful, and mean, but there were times he was also kind and seemed to be pleading for her to save him, and he obviously had nowhere else to turn to get help. “Keep him warm, Rune,” she said.
Rune belly crawled over to the male and lay as close to him as he could without lying on top of him.
Aubreigne turned to look at the two of them from the kitchen. “You know him, don’t you?” she asked Rune.
Rune looked up at her before laying his chin back down on the male he didn’t want to leave.
Aubreigne couldn’t help but notice that the male she was trying to save, the male that Rune was so attached to, was stunningly beautiful, even in this condition. It shouldn’t surprise her. He was temptation incarnate. One couldn’t tempt if one wasn’t beauty personified.
“I’ll help you, then when you’re healthy again, you will leave me in peace,” she said.
Chapter 14
Amilanu woke to a warmth enveloping his head and soft fingers stroking his cheek. His head was leaning against someone as they cradled him against their body. The fingers of the hand that held him softly stroked his face. He had no urge to run, to thrust this female away from him. This female was welcome. This female was his. He struggled to open his eyes and the moment he did, Aubreigne noticed he was awake.
“Shhh, you are safe. But you are ill, you must drink this for me,” she said, holding a teacup to his lips with her other hand.
He didn’t question her. If she wanted him to drink something, he’d drink it. Amilanu pressed his lips to the cup as she held it against his mouth, and sipped the bitter liquid she offered him.
“Sip it slowly. It will help with the fever,” she said softly.
Amilanu sipped a bit more, then felt his stomach clench. He pulled his head away from the cup and she allowed him to pull away from her. He was wrapped tightly in a blanket of some sort and fought to be free so that he could empty his stomach again. Loosening the blankets around himself, he rolled to his knees looking around for something, anything.
Aubreigne seemed to know what he searched for and grabbed a bucket from beside the sofa, shoving it toward him.
Gratefully he took it, making it over a few feet away from her before losing his battle and vomiting into the bucket over and over again.
His breath heaving, his body shaking, he lay down right where he was on her floor and curled into a fetal position as he tried to regain control of his shaking body.
A moment later she was beside him again, wiping the back of his neck with a cool cloth, and offering him cool water to drink. “Here, rinse your mouth and spit it in the bucket. I’ll take it out.”
Amilanu struggled to hold himself up with one arm while trying to do as she asked. Once he’d done so, she held the water out to him. “Sip a little. I know you are ill, but you need liquids. You will be more ill if you don’t take in as much water as you can.”
Amilanu looked at the bucket, then at the cup of water she held out.
“I’ll go empty the bucket first, then you can try to drink again,” Aubreigne said.
Amilanu gave her a single, weak nod of his head.
“Can you move back to your quilt?” she asked.
Amilanu looked over at the quilt and the blanket he’d been wrapped in. Slowly, and with an effort that would have moved mountains — literally — he dragged himself back the few feet he’d moved to the quilt. He laid his head on the pillow and took a deep breath, sighing in relief at the scent of his female on the pillow.
“Rune, you watch him. I’ll be right back,” she told the wolf.
Rune moved to lie beside Amilanu once more and Amilanu looked down at him. “Rune?” he said, his voice weak.
Rune lifted his head and wagged his tail.
Amilanu lifted a shaking hand and ran a finger over the bright red silken cord collar Rune wore. “I am happy you are loved,” he said to the wolf before letting his hand drop.
The front door opened again and Aubreigne was back. She placed the bucket beside him and knelt down on the quilt next to him.
“Would you like to try a little water? Perhaps we’ll be more successful with the water rather than the tea. We’ll just have to battle the fever some other way,” she said. Aubreigne moved into position beside his head again, lifting him to be slightly elevated on her lap while she supported his head in one arm, while holding the cup of water with the other. She watched patiently as he sipped the cool water.
When he stopped sipping, she tried to get him to sip a bit more, but he shook his head.
Aubreigne laid his head on the pillow again, and reached for the cool cloth she’d left on the arm of the sofa. She bathed his face with it, and pressed it to the sides of his neck and to his throat. “You know, there are herbs that can stop the nausea. I can go out and gather some,” she said.
Amilanu shook his head weakly. “No, it needs to come out.”
“The sickness?” she asked.
“The drugs, the poisons, the alcohols. They
are killing me. If I don’t get it out, I will die. I am not strong enough to overcome it anymore.”
“But, you’re The Dark One. You can overcome anything. And why would you ingest such things if you know they will harm you?”
A sad smile crossed his lips as he lay on the pillow, his eyes even with her waist as she tended to him. “Amilanu,” he said.
“What?” she asked, stopping bathing his face and neck to better hear him.
“I am Amilanu,” he answered.
“I don’t understand,” she said, sitting back and looking at him.
Amilanu turned his face just enough to be able to look into her eyes before he tried to speak again. “I am Amilanu. The Dark One is here, but he is weak and unconscious from his gluttony. But I, I am Amilanu, I am not The Dark One.”
Amilanu prayed she’d understand what he tried to say. He didn’t have the strength for a full on explanation at this point, but the last thing in the world he wanted was for her to think he was The Dark One. The Dark One shared his body, but the two were most certainly not the same.
Amilanu watched as Aubreigne slowly figured out what he was trying to say. Her eyes widened and a look of surprise changed her whole expression. “That’s why you’re so different! That’s why you leave me drawings, then seem to hate me!”
Amilanu’s gaze fell on her hand resting on the edge of his pillow, and he forced his own hand to move closer, to allow his fingers to touch hers. “Never hate you,” he said, allowing his eyes to close.
“You are two different males sharing one body. I’ve only ever spoken to The Dark One. You never spoke to me before.”
“I was afraid he’d hurt you. I only came while you were sleeping. Left you gifts.”
“And the drawings. You left me drawings. Why didn’t you just speak to me?” Aubreigne asked.
“He would have heard and tried to take over again,” Amilanu said, his eyes still closed, his fingers touching hers.
“You left the drawings so that I could understand,” Aubreigne said, thinking she did finally understand now.
“Yes,” he whispered. “He is weaker now, much weaker. But if he tries to push forward, I will leave here as quickly as I can.”
“Why? I can’t help you if you’re not here,” Aubreigne said.
“To protect you,” he said, opening his eyes and glancing at her before allowing them to close again. He curled his fingers around hers and settled into the pillow once again.
“Tell me how to help you,” she said, leaning down close to his face.
“Forgive me,” he whispered, drifting off to sleep once more.
Aubreigne wasn’t sure what exactly forgiving him would do to help him be free of The Dark One, but she was more than willing to try. She smoothed a hand down his face, then gently pulled her fingers free of his and gathered the quilt over him once more, before settling on the sofa to watch over him as he slept.
~~~
Gaston talked happily as he walked through Whispers with Ata’halne at his side. He lugged a huge block of ice on his back, but to him — a gator shifter — it was no hardship at all. “I’m tellin’ you,” Gaston said, with a smile on his face, “all ya got tah do is let her know you gonna be ‘der always. She’ll give ya another chance, yeah,” he said.
“I will try. I have been trying,” Ata’halne said, walking along beside Gaston. He’d spent the night in Gaston’s home, luckily all Cajun people were welcoming and hospitable to most. And since Gaston had known Ata from before he’d left to go back to his people, Gaston had been happy to offer him shelter while he tried to win Aubreigne over again.
“Try harder!” Gaston said, grinning at Ata’halne. “While I’m putting in her ice, you should tell her how pretteh she is. Offer tah do somethin’ for her, like tend her garden or help wit’ her chores.
“I will, thank you, Gaston. Is that how you won your mate?” Ata asked.
“Phrygia? No, we just belong to each other. Knew it right away,” Gaston said. “But you human, now. You won’t have ‘dat feelin’, so you have to work harder, ya’ know?”
“I am beginning to see that, yes,” Ata answered.
As they walked out into the clearing Aubreigne’s home was in, Gaston looked around. “I don’t see her wolf. Mehbeh’ she’s ain’t here,” he said.
“Hopefully the damn thing ran off,” Ata commented.
“Oh, now, he seemed nice enough. He certainly loves Aubreigne,” Gaston said.
“Won’t let me near her,” Ata said.
“Realleh?!” Gaston asked, looking at Ata’halne with surprise. Wolves were very instinctive creatures, and if Aubreigne’s wolf didn’t like Ata, he may know something everyone else didn’t. Gaston decided to keep that thought to himself as he knocked on Aubreigne’s door with one hand while holding tight to the ice tongs with the other. He glanced at Ata again, reconsidering his immediate trust of the man just because he once knew him.
~~~
Aubreigne lay on the sofa, looking down at Amilanu. He’d awakened almost an hour earlier, and they’d been talking about every little thing.
“Enthrall said you were once his friend,” Aubreigne said.
“I was. I am. But I fell further than even I ever thought possible. I was offered a chance at being lord and master over my own realm, with no rules but my own. All I had to do was agree to take on The Dark One. To allow him to use my body as his own. I thought, it’s my body, he’ll have to do what I want. I was so wrong,” Amilanu said sadly.
Aubreigne reached down to stroke his face with her fingertips again, and Amilanu covered her hand with his.
“Why are you gone for so long when you leave here?” she asked.
“When I feel him getting stronger, forcing my own soul aside so he can take control, I try to take him as far away as possible. Submerge him in a place he can gorge himself on drink, women and drugs. At that point it doesn't matter what he’s doing, as long as I’ve managed to take the focus off of you. When he’s that strong, I can’t stop him. I just have to hope he’s enjoying himself too much to think of you.”
“Why does he want to hurt me? Simply because my song forced him to stop his rampages?” Aubreigne asked.
Amilanu shook his head. “Because you are the only thing I’ve ever wanted enough to be willing to risk my life for. He would destroy you to remove my want to be rid of him so that I might have you.”
Aubreigne thought about all he’d told her, and she remembered he’d called her nephesh when she’d first found him.
“You called me nephesh when I first found you here today.”
“I did,” he admitted, not ashamed of it at all.
“Why? Why would you call me your soul, and in Aramaic no less?” Aubreigne asked.
“You are my soul. Your soul speaks to mine, gives me a peace I’ve longed for all my life. From the time I was a young man, making elaborate drawings in tome after tome, to the day I foolishly accepted The Dark One, to the day he finally managed to find a way out of Hell, I’ve sought the peace and belonging that you make me feel by simply breathing. When we first scented you, watched you as you walked with your child, I knew this was what I’d longed for all my life. And Aramaic is a language I know well. I was born in another time, and it is one the Demons of my ‘kingdom’ speak with familiarity,” he explained, while practically snarling the word, ‘kingdom’, with sarcasm.
“And you want this? Living here in Whispers? A wife? A simple life. You think you could be happy with this? Be satisfied? How long will it be before you are off looking for adventure again?” she asked, not wanting to assume a single thing. She was tired of being on shaky ground where he was concerned and wanted to be sure of what he was saying. “According to the story Enthrall tells, it was a thirst for adventure, a need for more that brought you to your current circumstance.”
“He is not wrong. But I want you, Aubreigne, my nephesh. I want you, a life with you. I need you. A chance to just be near you. I am so tired of all I’ve seen, of
all I’m forced to live through. At first all was well, I lost myself in the pleasures that can be had for any willing to commit sin. I will readily admit this is all my own doing. But I quickly realized that I had no control. In Hell, he is all powerful. All I could do was watch helplessly as he used my body to go about his daily life. So for centuries I just slept, let him do whatever he wished and did my best to not see the worst of it. Then one day he bargained our way out, and I thought it was a new chance at life. It was not. It was only a matter of time before The Dark One guided us right back into the same circumstances that always send us back. After the last time we were sent back with no chance at a freedom ever again, I appealed to Enthrall. I’d learned of his community here and thought perhaps he’d take pity on us because we were once friends, but every time I tried to speak with him, The Dark One would shove me aside and begin his own negotiations. Enthrall was right to refuse me. Yet, a rash decision on my part has me here. Has me where I wish to be, and yet also has me placing you and your world at risk.”
“I don’t feel threatened by you. I’ve been drawn to you all along. I just couldn’t figure out why I’d want a male that was so cruel to me at every turn. Then I’d find your drawings and convince myself that there was more to you.”
Amilanu smiled. “I prayed you’d understand. That if I was ever allowed enough time to speak with you, that you’d believe me.”
“I do believe you, but we cannot banish him without banishing you. How will I ever save you?”
Aubreigne Page 12
