Eternal Love: The Immortal Witch Series

by Maggie Shayne

  He rolled her up onto her side, untied the hospital gown in the back, then laid her flat again. His hands at the sleeves, he pulled the garment off her.

  Gods, she was so thin. The drugs in her system must be slowing everything down, including the restorative powers of their kind. He could see her ribs, and her belly was concave. The bones of her hips and her collarbones jutted sharply against skin that seemed to have thinned. He peeled away the white underpants, tossed them aside, and slid his arms beneath her.

  His palms slid over soft skin, and his body came alive, not just with the jolt of immortal touching immortal, but with longing. A hunger that should have died long ago. And the craving wasn’t in his body alone, but in his heart.

  She was helpless right now. But she wouldn’t be for long. Not Nidaba. When she was herself again, she would be fully capable of destroying him utterly. And if he didn’t get his feelings under control, he would end up letting her.

  He drew away from her, tugged the covers back over her, and contented himself with bringing a warm cloth from the bathroom and washing her face. Sheila would return with help. For once he was glad of her bossy ways and take-charge attitude. Sometimes, he admitted with a sigh, he needed to be protected from himself.

  * * * *

  “NATHAN! NATHAN! OH, Nathan, she’s gone!”

  George’s frantic cries accompanied his feet clomping up the stairs at top speed several hours later. Nathan had been sitting with Nidaba, watching over her, reading aloud, talking to her about times long past, about his life today. Anything to pass the time. He’d made use of her bath himself, leaving the door open wide in case she should cry out or become afraid. It had been a quick bath. Exhaustion, mental as well as physical, had tempted him to linger in the hot water, to relax into its soothing embrace. His back and shoulders ached from the hours spent in the chair beside her bed. But he didn’t dare linger He bathed, dried himself, put on fresh clothes. He didn’t even take time to shave, because there was no line of sight from the sink to the bed where Nidaba lay, and he was sure something would happen if he took his eyes off her for too long.

  There had been no significant change in her condition all morning, however.

  It was after two when the door opened and George stood there, breathless and wide-eyed wearing a bright green pullover with a white tab collar and a chartreuse clip-on bow tie attached. “Nathan, she’s gone!” he said again.

  “Who’s gone?” George was in pain. Nathan’s empathic tendencies brought that pain and worry to him as sharply as if it was his own.

  “My dog! My Queenie, she’s gone! I took her to the fenced-in place, just like you said. And I put food and water out there, and I stayed with her for a long time. Then I thought she was getting bored. So I went up to my room to get her a ball to play with, and when I came back, she was just gone! Where could she be, Nathan?” As he spoke, George battled tears without much success.

  Nathan was out of his chair and across the room before George finished speaking. He held George’s big shoulders, felt like hugging the man, who was more childlike right now than he’d ever been. “She’s all right, I’m sure of it, George. She’s all right, wherever she is.”

  “But... but...” George’s eyes filled with shimmering pools that would flood at any moment.

  “Come on, sit down.” Nathan led George to a chair near the window, settled him into it, pushed the heavy damask drapes open and looped the gold braided tie-backs around them. “Look outside, George. It’s a beautiful day. That dog is probably running around, chasing rabbits, having fun. There’s nothing out there that could hurt her. Is there?”

  George looked out the window, his gaze intent. “Well... I don’t see anything that could hurt her.”

  Nathan felt the big guy’s worry easing just a little, and he pressed on. “There isn’t anything. She’s a big dog, George, a strong animal. Besides, I know you may not want to think about this, but you have to consider for a minute that she might have belonged to someone else. Maybe she went back to her home.”

  Innocent eyes searched Nathan’s. “Do you think so?”

  “Well, she was a purebred Rottweiler, George. A beautiful animal. It’s hard to believe a dog like that didn’t belong to someone.”

  Blinking, George pondered that for a moment. “She wasn’t wearing any collar. No tags.”

  “No. Some dogs arc pretty clever about wriggling out of their collars, though.”

  “They are?”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve seen them do it. Listen, you take my advice and don’t worry about her. Later on, when Sheila gets back with her friend, I’ll ask her to drive you around looking for Queenie. And we can put an ad in the local newspaper if you want.”

  “We can?”

  “Sure we can! Someone will have seen her. And even if she does belong to someone else, at least you’ll know. And maybe you can visit her. And if she doesn’t have a home, then we’ll find her and bring her back here. Either way, there’s no cause for you to be so upset. She’s a smart, strong, healthy dog, romping around somewhere having the time of her life. I promise. She’s fine.”

  George sighed, his shoulders slumping in obvious relief. “Thanks, Nathan. I feel better.” He looked at the floor. “You always make me feel better.”

  “I’m glad.” Nathan’s throat felt inexplicably tight.

  “I think I’ll walk around outside for a while, see if I can find her.”

  “Just don’t go too far, George. And stay out of the woods.”

  “I will,” he promised. He got to his feet, glanced at the bed, then at Nathan again. “How is the lady doing?”

  “Not much different than this morning, I’m afraid.”

  “She’ll get better, Nadian,” George said, and he patted Nathan’s shoulder. “You’ll see.”

  “Thank you, George. I’m sure she will.”

  George smiled. “Did I make you feel better?”

  Looking up, Nathan saw the hope in his big, innocent eyes, and he forced a smile. “Yes, you did, George. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Nathan.”

  The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made them both turn to the window again. Nathan said, “There’s Sheila now, with her friend.” He almost sighed. Gods knew, he needed the help. Just enough time to slip away for a shave and a bite to eat, knowing that someone was there with Nidaba would be a blessed relief. Something moved in the woods alongside the driveway, and it caught Nathan’s eye. His first thought was that he’d spotted George’s precious stray running through the underbrush. But the shadowy form vanished. He watched, eyes narrow and searching, and caught one more glimpse of... something. But this time it looked like a person moving amid the trees, and then there was nothing at all.

  A little shiver raced up Nathan’s spine. He gave his head a shake, told himself he was overtired, his eyes were playing tricks on him. Still, he couldn’t quite shake the ominous feeling.

  * * * *

  “I SWEAR, I don’t know what’s keeping Lisette,” Sheila said, pacing the room once more. She’d spent the past hour telling Nathan about her friend Lisette’s qualifications. She was an RN with experience in caring for the mentally ill, and she owed Sheila a favor. Apparently a very big favor, because Sheila was convinced she could trust the woman to keep quiet about Nidaba’s presence here.

  “Give her some time to get her bearings,” Nathan advised. “She’s probably unpacking, getting settled in. Besides, your word is good enough for me, Sheila. If she’s willing to do the job, and you trust her, then she’s hired. I’ll pay her whatever she wants. Just so long as she does a good job.” He glanced into the bathroom, where he’d started running another bath for Nidaba. Tub’s full.” Walking in, he shut the water off.

  “She’s not the kind to dawdle, Nathan. I promise you that.” Sheila frowned. I’d best go and check on her.”

  “No need,” a woman’s harsh, raspy voice said as the bedroom door swung inward. “I’m right here.”

  Sheil
a’s startled frown made Nathan wonder what was going on. He studied the woman standing in the doorway. She was small, slender, with silver hair in a swept-up style, and incredible skin for a woman of her age. Her eyes were vivid blue, and penetrating.

  “Whatever has happened to your voice?” Sheila asked.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” she whispered. “It got this way only minutes after I arrived. I suppose I’m allergic to something in this house.”

  “Until this morning we had a dog running around the place. Could it have been that?” Nathan asked.

  “Ahh... that’s it,” she rasped. “Dogs’ll get me every time.” Nathan smiled as the woman held out her hand. “You must be Nathan King.” He had to strain to hear her. “Sheila has told me so much about you.”

  He reached for her hand, but she drew it back, looked at it, and shook her head. “Best not. If it’s not from the dog, then this thing could be catching,” she said, pointing at her throat.

  “It’s very good to meet you, Ms...?”

  She smiled and said, “Call me Lisette.”

  “Lisette, then. I want to thank you for coming on such short notice. You’re doing me a great favor by taking this on.”

  She shrugged, and he frowned. “But if you think you might be contagious, perhaps—”

  “No worries,” she whispered. “I’ll use antibacterial soap and gloves with the patient. She’ll be in no danger.”

  Nathan nodded, glancing again at Sheila only to see her still frowning at her friend in what looked like confusion. He wondered at that, but the woman was already moving forward, looking at Nidaba in the bed, glancing into the adjoining bathroom.

  “I see you’ve got a bath run for her.”

  “Yes, she’s in need of it. That is, if you don’t mind getting started right away.”

  “Of course I don’t mind.” That sandpapery rasp scraped his nerve endings.

  “I realize we haven’t discussed terms yet. I’ll pay you twice the going rate. All I ask is that you treat this patient with extreme kindness, be gentle with her, and see to it she has whatever she needs.”

  The nurse’s eyes narrowed on Nidaba. “You care for the woman a great deal, then?”

  For some reason, the question bothered him. “She’s... an old friend. A very dear old friend.”

  “Don’t worry, Mr. King. I’ll take very good, care of her.”

  He nodded as Lisette went to the bed, tugged at the covers, and then looked at him sharply. “Who undressed her?” she asked.

  “She... dribbled oatmeal all over herself this morning,” he replied.

  The woman frowned. “Highly inappropriate, Mr. King,” she said, and pulled the covers back around Nidaba. She rushed into the bathroom and returned with a large towel, then she yanked the covers down again, and proceeded to wrap it around Nidaba, rolling her up onto her side to do so. When Lisette touched her, Nidaba jerked, and her eyes widened.

  Nathan jumped, but Lisette held up a hand. “It’s all right. She’ll need to get used to me if I’m to help her. Now she’s ready. Carry her into the bathroom, Mr. King, and put her in the tub, towel and all. I’ll see to the rest myself.”

  Sheila cocked her head to one side as Nathan scooped Nidaba up from the bed. She walked beside Lisette as they followed him into the bathroom. “I vow, Lisette,” she said, “you’re like a different woman when you’re working. If I didn’t know your face so well I don’t think I’d recognize you at all.”

  From the corner of his eye, Nathan saw Lisette send her friend a smile. “I care very deeply about my work... but you know that, now, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Yes, that I do. But...”

  “Hush, my friend. We’ll talk later on, when the work is done. Save your worries, won’t you?”

  “Sure. Later on. And I’ll brew you up something soothin’ for that throat.”

  Lisette squeezed Sheila’s hand and sent her a warm smile.

  Nathan stopped beside the bathtub, staring down at Nidaba’s wide, unfocused eyes. “Now, I’m going to put you into the bathtub, Nidaba. There’s water. Warm, but not too warm. It’s going to feel good to you, do you understand? There is no reason to be afraid, to be startled by this. No reason at all. This is good for you.”

  He continued speaking softly, telling her how good the water would feel, as he lowered her carefully into the tub. She flinched, just once, when the warm water touched her skin, but then she returned to oblivion again and lay back in the water.

  Nathan knelt beside the tub, one hand always on her, to keep her from slipping. He had everything ready and within reach so Lisette wouldn’t have to leave her alone for an instant and risk her drowning herself.

  Where he touched Nidaba’s shoulders he could feel the sharpness of her bones beneath her skin. And her thighs looked so thin, so slight, below the towel. Had they even fed her in that place?

  Anger stirred in his gut.

  “Go on now,” Lisette said in that odd voice. “I’ll take care of her from here.”

  He looked at the woman. Then he sought out Sheila’s eyes.

  “She’s right, Nathan. Go on, have a shave, get some lunch. I saw the breakfast I made for you this morning, sitting cold and untouched on the plate. You need to keep yourself well or you’ll never be able to care for this one. You know that.”

  “I...” He couldn’t say it. He didn’t want to insult Lisette or hurt Sheila, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Nidaba alone with this strange woman. He barely knew her, after all.

  “I’ll stay,” Sheila said, reading him so clearly it almost made him dizzy. “I’ll be right here. I’ll not let her out of my sight, Nathan, and if she needs you for anything, I’ll call for you. All right?”

  Meeting Sheila’s eyes, seeing she wasn’t angry with him for mistrusting her friend, he nodded. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sheila.”

  “Oh, curl up in a corner and die, no doubt. Now go on. Out with you. This is woman’s work.”

  Feeling slightly better, he left the room. But he didn’t go far. He went into his own bedroom, just off Nidaba’s, where his bed remained untouched, unslept in. He dug out a shaving kit he kept in the top drawer and stepped into the hallway to head to the guest bathroom, since his own was currently being used by the women.

  He got only about ten steps when he heard the ear-splitting shriek and the crash. Choking on his own heart, he spun and raced back along the hall, through his bedroom, tossing his kit onto the bed on the way to Nidaba’s room, and finally to the bathroom beyond.

  Sheila was dripping wet, standing back and looking surprised, while Lisette gripped Nidaba’s frail shoulders, attempting to hold her still while she thrashed and splashed and fought.

  Nathan ran forward. “Let go—let go of her!”

  Lisette did, and Nidaba instantly stilled. She sat stiffly in the tub, eyes wide, breaths rushing in and out of her parted lips in short panicky bursts. She was shaking. Visibly trembling.

  Nathan knelt in the puddle beside the tub, but didn’t touch her. “It’s all right. I’m here, Nidaba. It’s all right.” He watched her, wishing to the Gods he knew what sort of nightmares went on inside her mind where she was trapped. “What happened in here?” He asked without taking his eyes from her. Her collarbones poked up so sharply it seemed they’d pierce the thin layer of skin that covered them. Her small breasts rose and fell in time with her breaths.

  “I’m not sure,” Lisette said.

  “Not sure, eh? Well, I am,” Sheila cut in. “She started to get antsy as soon as you left the room, Nathan. Stiff, and jittery-like. Let me take the towel off, all right, and even wash her up a bit. But as soon as Lisette poured a bit of water on that hair of hers she went crazy on us. Thrashed about like a wild woman, she did.”

  Nathan nodded, his gaze slipping only briefly away from Nidaba. “I heard a scream.”

  “That was her, all right,” Sheila said with a sharp nod.

  “So you can speak after all, hmm?” He
looked hard into those black eyes and they stared back, wide, but clearer than they had been before, he thought. Then he told himself that might be an illusion. Wishful thinking.

  “I’m sure it was only the water on her head that set her off.” Lisette was on her feet and beside the tub now. “Some mentally ill patients go into a panic when water touches their faces.”

  “And I think it was the fact that Nathan left the room,” Sheila said.

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “Is it now, do you think?”

  “I’m the one who’s experienced with mental patients, Sheila,” Lisette said in a harsh mutter that was closer to speaking in a normal tone than anything Nathan had heard her say thus far.

  “Lisette’s right,” Nathan put in. “Besides, she didn’t react right away, when I left her. You said yourself she let you wash her up a bit, didn’t you, Sheila?”

  Sheila’s gaze narrowed. “That’s right. Maybe it’s you she dislikes, Lisette.” She said it teasingly, the way a friend would to another friend, with a nudge of the elbow or a wink. But Lisette’s scowl led Nathan to think she didn’t take the comment in the same manner.

  He hated to see tension brewing between Sheila and her longtime friend, so he stepped in. “Let’s put it to the test, then, okay?” He looked around, not getting up from his knees, and spotted the small plastic pitcher Sheila had been using. Then he filled it and touched Nidaba’s hair.

  “Your hair is all tangled and dirty,” he said slowly. “I’m going to wash it for you. All right?”

  She didn’t respond, just stared straight ahead. Nathan tipped her head back a little, to keep the water out of her eyes, and slowly poured. She didn’t fight, didn’t panic at all. So he dipped another pitcher full and poured that as well, and she tipped her head back farther. Her eyes fell closed.

  He almost smiled. She liked this. He continued dipping and pouring until her long hair was thoroughly soaked. Then he applied a generous amount of baby shampoo and worked up a lather. He massaged her scalp with his fingertips, scrubbed gently and thoroughly, for a long time. Her hair, masses of it, tangled around his fingers as she lay back, relaxing more as he rubbed, eyes remaining closed. Her breaths came deep and slowly. He watched her chest rise and fall with it. And finally he began rinsing, pitcher by pitcher.