Dark Demon 16

by Christine Feehan

  «Taste me, Natalya.» His voice was harsh, sexy with his lust. «Come to me now. Come into my world.» It wasn't a plea, it was a command. His hands tightened around her wrists. He didn't help her, his chest above her mouth, his body so tight it stretched hers to the limit. «Damn it, woman. Do it now.»

  She was desperate for relief. If he kept pounding into her she wasn't going to live through the night. Could a woman die of pleasure? In any case, her incisors had already lengthened and her body gushed with anticipation, making her sheath so hot and slick it only allowed him deeper until she thought he would climb into her womb. She licked across the heavy muscles of his chest and sank her teeth deep. At once his ancient blood poured into her like flowing nectar. His body thickened, hardened, pistoned into hers without mercy. His erotic images and his overwhelming pleasure burst through her mind even as her own muscles tightened around him, gripping him desperately.

  She drank, choked, swept her tongue across him to close the pinpricks. Nothing could stop the forceful driving of his body into hers. Her orgasm ripped through her, somewhere between pain and pleasure, rocking her body, the shudders refusing to stop, gripping her with the same intensity as her muscles milked him. She felt him exploding, jetting into her with his seed, hot spasms that had a guttural sound tearing from his throat.

  Vikirnoff buried his face in Natalya's throat, desperately trying to regain a steady heartbeat, to pull air into his lungs. She had been so tight and hot, her vaginal grip on his sensitive erection torturing him with pleasure as she clasped him to her, draining him completely. She was going to kill him if their lovemaking got any better, but it was a great way to go. He lifted his head enough to nuzzle her breast. Her nipples were tight hard beads, tempting him. His tongue flicked and teased.

  Her body jerked around his, tightened on his flesh so that he groaned as fire raced through him, spreading through every nerve ending. «I love you, Natalya.»

  «I don't think I can ever do that again. It scared the hell out of me. Worse than any vampire.» Her fingers tangled in his hair. «I couldn't stop. It just went on and on and I didn't have any control at all.»

  He smiled against her breast. «It will only get better.»

  «We're both going to die, you know that don't you?»

  «It occurred to me,» he admitted. He kissed her again, gently this time. «You know you will be going through the conversion soon. I have heard it can be painful.» He lifted his head to look into her eyes. «I will do my best to spare you and the moment it is safe, I will put us both in ground.»

  Fear etched tiny white lines around her mouth. Her eyes were enormous but she nodded at him. «Don't forget the book and the safeguards.»

  He rolled off of her and drew her into his arms, holding her close. «I will not forget anything. Thank you for giving yourself to me.»

  Natalya laughed. «Is that what I did? I thought you took me for yourself and there was no going back.»

  «There is no going back now.» He murmured as the first ripple of pain took her, driving the air from her lungs.

  Chapter 18

  «Hold on to me, ainaak'sivamet jutta, I fear this will hurt like hell.» Vikirnoff's eyes held panic, something Natalya had never seen in him, just as she'd never heard that particular tone in his voice.

  She reached for his hand, tangled her fingers with his. «I'm not the first woman to do this, you know. We'll get through it.» As the pain radiated through her with all the intensity of a

  blowtorch, she wasn't altogether certain she was telling the truth. It took her breath, leaving her gasping.

  Vikirnoff turned pale. «Damn it, I should never have let this happen.»

  He startled her with his swearing. He often said things in his ancient tongue, but rarely did he curse. His blatant lack of control shocked her into focusing on him rather than the pain tearing through her body. Vikirnoff was already sweating, his eyes alive with fear for her.

  When the first wave eased enough to allow her to breathe again she pushed her hand through his hair, her touch tender. «You're such a baby. It never occurred to me you'd be a baby.»

  A baby? He wanted to kill someone with his bare hands. He didn't feel like a baby. He felt like a berserker, a wild, out-of-control demon, ready to rend and tear anything in his path. He couldn't believe the conversion would be like this, the pain ripping through her body with the force of a tidal wave. Against such agony, his tremendous power was utterly useless. «This is…» He spat out a series of words in his ancient language, his voice low and mean.

  «I so don't want to know what any of that means,» Natalya said, trying to smile. The smile died swiftly as the pain began swelling again, gripping her so hard her body convulsed. Fire, hot and ferocious, tore through her body. She bit back a scream, desperate to hide the extent of the pain from him.

  Small beads of blood formed on Natalya's brow. Vikirnoff swept back the tangled mess of her damp, tawny hair. Small stripes banded over her body, shades of orange, white and black, faint streaks tinged with blood. Raw fury burned through him and he cursed who and what he was. The way she tried to be so damned protective of him shredded his heart. He came up on his knees, soaked his shirt in the coolest pool in the cavern and wiped the sweat from her face as gently as he could.

  Natalya suddenly pushed at him, tried to pull out of his mind, turning her face away from him, but he stayed firmly merged, his blood pounding through his veins. This was emotion at its worst. He rode the wave out with her, striving to find a way to help her, searching for calm. For centuries, his world had been unemotional, and now, when he needed it most, he couldn't find the balance that was so necessary to aid her.

  She went white, so pale her skin was nearly gray. The bluish tinge to her lips had his heart pounding in alarm, but his hands were gentle as he wiped her face and throat.

  She caught his arm. «Stay with me.»

  «I am not going anywhere.»

  «You can't possibly become vampire, can you, Vikirnoff?»

  He knew her fears were because of her twin brother. She had lost him. The last person in her life to really love her. Now, she feared losing Vikirnoff. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed her knuckles, opened her clenched fist and pressed a second kiss to the center of her palm. «Thanks to you, no. Not ever.»

  She attempted a smile, trying to tease him, wanting to reassure him. «Then you owe me big time. Big time. And I intend to collect.» It was starting again, the torch in her stomach, burning through her lungs and heart and every organ. She tried to breathe through the pain, was desperate for air, for a way to stop the agony just for a moment so she could regroup. Tears burned in her eyes and streaks of blood ran down her face. «I'm sorry,» she whispered, her fingers tightening around his. «I'm going to be sick.»

  «That is good.» He swallowed the bile in his own throat, feeling desperate. He wanted to wrap his body around hers, find a way to protect her, to take away every second of the pain. «That is a good thing. It will help you rid your body of toxins.»

  She tried to crawl away, wanting to get into the shadows, but she was too sick, her body shuddering with pain, collapsing before she could reach the darker edges of the cavern. Vikirnoff tried to touch her, to help her, but she shook her head, pushing his hands away, unable to bear being touched with her skin so sensitive. He waved his hands at the candles flickering closest to her and the lights went out, leaving her with a semblance of privacy as she was sick over and over.

  «This sucks,» she announced, rolling over to lie still, conserving her strength for the next round. «I know you can make that go away»-she pointed to the mess she'd made-«and I really detest throwing up, so remove it please.» She took the water bottle he handed her and rinsed her mouth, grateful he was thoughtful.

  Vikirnoff complied, making certain all evidence that she had been ill was removed. «I want to try to do this together, Natalya. Do not hold yourself away from me or try to protect me. You are my life and I need to do whatever I can to help you th
rough this. Let my heartbeat lead yours. Let my breath be yours.» He couldn't be a bystander while she suffered so much. He had to find a way to help her.

  Natalya reached out her hand for his. It was almost comical to see him so shaken. Her big bad Carpathian. He was actually trembling. Worse, he looked ready to kill something, or someone. Who knew he would react like that? «What are you going to do if I ever have a baby?»

  His face paled visibly and his eyes darkened even more. «I cannot think about it now. Not for a long time. Centuries maybe. Perhaps never, if it is anything like this.»

  The next wave began building and she shifted her gaze to his face, her expression desperate. He brushed back her hair, noting the stripes once again stood out against her skin and hair in bands of orange and black and white. She alternated between the stripes and her pale, almost gray complexion. «Hang on, love, breathe with me. A long slow breath and

  ride above the pain.»

  Her gaze clung to his, her grip on him so tight he thought she might crush his bones, but she followed his breathing, long slow breaths, moving air in and out of their lungs, staying above the worst of the pain. Her body shook and the pinpoints of blood seeping through pores alarmed them both, but she was able to get through the wave without convulsing.

  «I don't want to lose my tigress.» She lifted her head when he put his arm around her neck to hold her up so she could rinse her mouth again. «It wants my tigress and she is fighting it, I don't want to give her up. She's a part of me, just like breathing.» There was anxiety in her voice, a plea in her eyes.

  «The conversion is reshaping organs and tissues; essentially you are reborn as a Carpathian. I can still see the stripes. It is your nature to be a tigress, not part of your species. I do not believe you will lose who you are.» He brushed the damp strands of tawny hair from her face. «You will always be Natalya and the tigress is part of your soul. I feel her locked with me. You will not lose her.» He repeated the reassurance a second time as the next pain welled up sharp and fast, lifting her from the cavern floor and slamming her back down so hard her bones seemed in danger of breaking.

  Natalya kept her gaze fixed on Vikirnoff. He was her lifeline. As long as she looked at him, saw desperate love and worry etched into his face, in the black eyes, she knew she could be strong. She'd never had a man look at her like that, as if his world was shattering because she was suffering. She could feel him trying to take the pain from her and it only made her love him more. He was such a powerful, steadfast man, yet all his personal stoicism dissolved in the face of her suffering.

  She stroked his face, her fingertips smoothing the deep lines as the pain subsided. «I'm not afraid of this, Vikirnoff. I'm really not.»

  He swore again. She hadn't heard him say so many swear words in all the time they'd been together. «I am. I knew it was bad, but not like this.» He pressed his forehead against hers, smearing blood across both of their brows. «It has to be over soon.»

  «It will be.» She was calm now, resigned to the waves of pain, able to hang on because she could get through anything for a short period of time and he was there with her, looking ravaged and drained, so distraught she wanted to soothe him.

  Vikirnoff thought he might lose his mind. Time dragged, each second agonizingly slow, an excruciating endless anguish that had him praying when he hadn't prayed in centuries. He had never felt so helpless-or useless in his life. His Natalya, so courageous, undergoing such torment for him. For his way of life. When finally he thought it would be safe to send to her sleep, she smiled at him. Smiled.

  Vikirnoff wanted to weep. The way she looked at him, with such love in her eyes, humbled him. He couldn't believe she could see him that way, not after such an ordeal.

  There was love in her eyes, a warmth that seeped into the coldness of his bones and brought him back to life.

  You really are a baby, you know. There was utter weariness in her voice. She was so tired, yet she couldn't help wiping at the blood-red tears streaking his face.

  Only where you are concerned. I am going to lock you in a tower and keep you safe for well over a hundred years. It will take at least that long to get over this night.

  I really hate to have to admit this because I've almost worked out the counter spell to undo the binding ritual, but I have fallen madly in love with you. There was a small deliberate sigh in her voice, as if she were annoyed that she could possibly have fallen in love with him.

  His burning lungs found air. That small sigh was enough to tell him she was still Natalya, his warrior woman and she wasn't going to cave in because she was flat on her back. I hate to disagree with you when you are obviously unable to defend your position, but the ritual binding words are not a spell. You cannot undo our marriage.

  She closed her eyes but a faint smile curved her lips. Then I shall endure.

  He burst out laughing, a mixture of relief and amusement, tears still leaking from his eyes, gathering her up in his arms as he opened the ground, exposing the rejuvenating soil rich in minerals. «I am putting you to bed where you will not be able to torment me. I need recovery time from this ordeal.»

  Her eyebrow shot up. You need the recovery time?

  I nearly had a heart attack.

  The pain was welling up again, seizing her organs, squeezing like a vice so it felt as if she might really be having a heart attack. Stop talking and more action.

  Vikirnoff sent her to sleep instantly, a strong command that was probably unnecessary, but he wasn't taking any chances. He sat for a long time cradling her in his lap, rocking gently back and forth, more to soothe himself than her. He stared down into her beautiful face. When had he become so consumed by her? He couldn't imagine his life without Natalya. Her lashes were thick and black, feathery crescents under her eyes. He noted the dark circles that hadn't been there before.

  He had never considered himself a man of violence. He lived in a world of violence and did what he had to do. Hunting was a way of life. Battles and wounds and destroying evil were simply how he lived. It was never personal, never emotional. Yet now, with Natalya, all that had changed. He couldn't bear her to be in pain. Not physically and certainly not emotionally.

  He buried his face against her throat. He had a demon in him and it wasn't the monster

  who had lived and roared for blood. This unexpected demon had risen up, demanding retribution, wanting to smash and destroy simply because Natalya was in pain. He couldn't stand to see her that way, so pale, in agony, trying valiantly to protect him. Vikirnoff didn't like discovering he was a violent man, but it was there, deep inside and he wouldn't hide from it. Natalya had seen him, demons and all, and she hadn't turned away from him. For that alone, he loved her.

  He carefully unraveled the safeguards surrounding Natalya's weapons and her backpack. The book would have to be with them at all times until he could convince Natalya to turn it over to the prince. He could understand why she wanted to safeguard the tome herself. She knew next to nothing about the Carpathians, a dying species, with too few women and even fewer children. And that meant she didn't know the prince or his capabilities. Mikhail was one of the most powerful Carpathians alive and if anyone could keep the book safe-or find a way to destroy it, it would be Mikhail.

  The backpack floated into his hand and he settled down into the rich soil. He would need to rise first and feed enough for both of them before taking her to the great healing caverns where Mikhail and Falcon would give Gabrielle the third blood exchange to convert her. In spite of the tremendous odds against it, Gabrielle was still alive, and Vikirnoff was still guarding her spirit. He needed to be there when she underwent the conversion. The idea was unsettling, especially after he had just gone through it with Natalya.

  Vikirnoff stretched out in the welcoming soil, feeling it cushion and embrace him. He settled Natalya's limp body beside him, while he curled up around her, the backpack under both of their palms where it would be safe and she would see upon awakening that he had kept his word. The sa
feguards were some of the strongest he'd ever woven, wanting to ensure Natalya's safety. He swept his hand across her bare skin. «Sleep well, sleep deep.» He brushed a kiss over her lips and lay still beside her, calling to the soil to cover them.

  Vikirnoff woke hours later at the precise moment the sun set. All Carpathians were aware of the rising and setting of the sun, yet it was so ingrained in them they gave it very little thought. He scanned the caverns above and below them and then finally the open areas surrounding the caves before opening the earth. As he gathered Natalya in his arms, he thought for the first time in centuries about the sun and how important a part it had played in the life of his lifemate.

  He carried her body to the pool where he could wash all evidence of the conversion from her body along with remnants of the rich soil. He didn't want her to wake afraid-or worse, sorry that she had chosen the Carpathian way of life. He loved the night, embraced it as his world, but someone who had walked in the sun might have trouble adjusting.