Dark Demon (27 page)

"You look awful."

"Let's get back to the inn before the sun rises," he answered.

"Can you get us back there? The tiger could carry you, but we're a long way from home."

Dawn would be breaking within minutes. Both of them were already exhausted and needed shelter as soon as possible. "I can get us to the inn. Come here."

Natalya had put distance between them, pacing restlessly, her mind turning over and over, trying to remember the shadowy figure that was so elusive. The one that liked patterns and who must have tampered with her brain so she couldn't remember most of her childhood. Xavier.

A thought came unbidden. Had the dark mage disguised himself as a hunter and murdered her brother? Again her gaze flicked to Vikirnoff. She had walked in his mind—saw the darkness crouching close, the bleak endless years of serving his people, saw, too, his joy in finding her. His puzzlement in who and what she was. Nothing like he thought. That hurt. Really hurt. And she didn't like that she'd allowed him into her mind and soul enough to hurt her.

Vikirnoff gathered her unresisting body into his arms and took to the air. He wanted to get them away from the mountain, away from the unknown creature that was using the mark on her ankle to track them.
What is it? You are suddenly quiet and that is very unlike you
.

She was so close to him, so close to his body. He was shielding them from eyes, not aggravating his injuries further by taking a different form. Heat poured off his body and into hers. His chest was hard and his thighs gripped her tightly. She became aware of her own body softening and fitting even closer to his. Desire shot through her, unexpected and piercing and totally out of place. She was being drawn, in spite of herself, into his world and she was terribly confused.

He whispered something in his language, something low and sexy, breathing it against her throat. She was vulnerable to his voice, to his accent, to the feel of his mouth moving against her skin.

What is it? Tell me?

Natalya shifted just a little to circle his neck with her arms, to weave her fingers into his hair while she told him the truth.

I looked into your mind, Vikirnoff. All this lifemate stuff you keep preaching is a bunch of crap
. Part of her, some treacherous, lonely, feminine part of her desperately wanted it to be true.
You want June Cleaver. Or Donna Reed. That's who you want. Some little yes woman with her apron on cooking you meals and saying "Yes, dear." Instead you're stuck with
… She pulled her head back to look into his eyes. She knew she was showing him she was hurt. It didn't matter right then. She needed to belong somewhere. If only for a moment. He wanted a lifemate, but he didn't want
her
. She kept her gaze locked with his.
You're stuck with Xena, warrior woman, who you don't want, can't conceive of and don't understand
.

She felt his confusion. Puzzlement. His eyes changed color, deepened, darkened with such intense emotion he robbed her of breath.
I do not know these women, Natalya. I do not hear jealousy as much as hurt and it is unacceptable to me that I would cause you sorrow. I do not desire them nor would I ever. I prefer not to eat food so I do not expect nor want cooked meals. And I have no other lifemate, only you. I have never met this Xena you speak of
.

Part of her wanted to laugh and the other half wanted to cry.
I'm Xena warrior woman, you dope. You don't know anything, do you
? She rested her forehead against his.
This lifemate thing wasn't your choice any more than it was mine. You didn't want me. I want to be wanted for who I am
.

There was such sadness in her voice, in her mind, it echoed through Vikirnoff's heart.
How can you think I do not want you? You are a miracle to me
.

Natalya turned her head away. She'd been in his mind and she knew his thoughts. He wanted a submissive woman who would hang on his every word, not someone with a smart mouth and an attitude. For one moment she thought about trying to change, living to be what he wanted, but she could never mold her personality or drive the tigress out of her. She was passionate and fiery and entirely too impulsive. She didn't wait for someone to lead her, she took her own path and she couldn't imagine being any different.

She watched the ground below them, inexplicably sad, the vivid shades of green, the riot of colors from the meadows of flowers and the stacks of hay dotting the rolling hills, all blurring together until she blinked away the tears swimming in her eyes. There were people down there, people with lives far shorter than her life, but so happy. People with families and children and someone to talk to. She had Vikirnoff. She knew he wasn't going to leave her, he believed he was tied to her for eternity, but he didn't want Natalya Shonski, with the blood of the dark mage running in her veins and a tigress crouching deep within her soul. He didn't want the woman who fought vampires and watched really bad movies on late night television.

Vikirnoff pressed his body tightly against hers so that she could feel what she did to him, the tight, painful ache that never seemed to entirely disappear, not even in the midst of danger. How could she think he didn't want
her
? There was no other woman for him, there could be no other woman.
I have much to learn about women, Natalya, it is true, but do not doubt that I want you
. His hands shifted on her body, a subtle difference, but she felt it all the way to her toes.

She wanted to smack him one. It just welled up, a tight hot ball of temper that raced through her bloodstream and came spilling out in a low warning growl that vibrated through both of them.

There was a small silence. His body rippled, muscles flexing and his knee pushed between her legs, forcing her into contact with his hard thick erection.
Did you just warn me off
?

If there was a suspicion of laughter in his voice, she couldn't catch it, but she felt it, as if the idea was amusing to him. His tone was pitched so low she shivered. It had gone from soft to black velvet, dark and mesmerizing and oh-so-confident. He knew she was drawn to him, that her body ached for his. He was in her mind and he could glimpse her fantasies. As much as she tried to keep sexual thoughts out of her head, they persisted, crowding in when she least expected it and the tigress in her reacted, rising with heat and need and hunger.
Yes, I did
. There was a challenge in her voice. What could he do, after all? She was safe and she knew it.

Because you think you are safe.

She tilted her chin.
I know that I am
. She let her gaze move insolently over his body.
You aren't exactly in shape to win wars
. Was she challenging him? Deliberately provoking him? She wanted to feel his mouth crushing hers again, his hands on her body. She wanted to belong, just once, to lose herself in another person when her whole world had come crashing down.

You should never underestimate your lifemate.

Her feet touched the balcony just outside of her room at the inn, but he didn't release her. His arms held her close and his knee was still wedged between her thighs. Natalya found herself caged between his body and the wall. His eyes glittered dangerously, and she recognized the predator. She felt the rash of heat spreading fast, the quickening of her pulse in answer to his sudden aggression. He'd been so gentle with her, she'd almost forgotten how dangerous he could be. He had the same animal instincts, the same possessive nature, the drive to be dominant.

Her heart pounded and her body pulsed with sudden hunger. He could drive away every demon she had, replace it with pleasure. There was no give in Vikirnoff and by challenging him, she brought out his every predatory instinct. She wanted to be mindless, to forget everything, only to feel.

Vikirnoff framed her face with his hands, the pads of his thumbs sliding over her soft skin. He studied her upturned face, the tears so close, the weariness. A small sigh escaped and his features softened. "You have gone through trauma witnessing the events of the past. In effect, you lived those events. There is sorrow and rage in you and your emotions are all mixed together so you cannot separate one from the other. I will accept your challenge another day, when you are not so confused and I know that any decision made is real and not because you are vulnerable. I took away your choice when I bound us together, I will not do so twice."

Natalya stared up at him shocked that she was so close to tears. She had never felt so raw in her life. He pulled her into his arms, enfolded her against him, his palms at the back of her head, this time without even a small hint of aggression. There was comfort in his strength as he stroked caresses down her hair.

"I am sorry about your parents, Natalya. It is a terrible thing to have family betray us. There were times I thought hunters needed the loss of emotion in order to hunt friends and family who became the undead."

Vikirnoff hadn't needed to share the deaths of her parents with her, but he had chosen to do so. He had stayed in her mind through it all, reliving those dark moments with her, sharing the emotional outrage and grief right along with her. He had fought beside her, healed her, teased her and shared his mind when she needed an anchor. Now, grievously wounded, his eyes and skin burning in the morning light, he still offered her comfort.

She pressed her lips to his chest and straightened her spine. "We need to get inside where you can lie down." She felt his hesitation and a dark dread began to take hold of her. She looked up at him. "What is it, Vikirnoff?"

"My injuries are very severe, Natalya. You still have to access the scenes from the past and complete your task, whatever that task may be. The prince and Falcon are both wounded. I need to be at full strength with a master vampire in the area. I have no choice but to go to ground this rising to heal." His voice was grim.

There was a small silence. Her fingers curled tighter in his hair. She couldn't breathe, couldn't find enough air to drag into her lungs. The thought of being separated from him was terrifying. Her emotions swirled up violent and chaotic and totally without sense, so unexpected she couldn't hide it from him. "Why can't you stay here? I can watch over you while you sleep. You know I will." Was that really Natalya Shonski? Pleading with a man to stay with her? Not just any man, but a hunter who had bound her to him by reciting an ancient spell? It didn't bear thinking about.

A part of her wanted to take back the plea, to say something flip and make them both laugh, but the dread was too close and too overwhelming. He was going to leave her and she was going to be alone again.

"Only Mother Earth can heal these wounds, Natalya," he said, regret in his voice.

"Well, let's not forget good old Mother Earth also gives the Troll King a nice little hideaway. What if he decides to come burrowing up under the ground to your resting place and I'm not there to save your butt again?" Her nails dug into his arm. She was pathetic, trying to hold him to her.

"I do not want to leave you,
ainaak enyém
, but you cannot yet come with me and sleep our rejuvenating sleep."

"How can I be forever yours if the Troll King is going to drag you into his lair while you're sleeping?" She would
not
beg him to stay. She wouldn't. "I'll go with you and just sit on top of your resting place."

Vikirnoff shook his head. "You cannot and you know it. I do not want to leave you to face the separation of lifemates, but I have no other choice." One hand slid to the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing over her chin in a small caress as he bent his head even closer.

"I am capable of looking out for myself," Natalya reminded him, squaring her shoulders. His mouth was so close to hers. A temptation. She knew he wanted her. That his body was full and aching. It was in every beat of his heart. It was in the hardness of his muscles and fullness of his groin. Most of all, in his eyes, diamond hard, glittering with such intensity as he stared down into her face. The erotic images she'd glimpsed in his mind took her breath away. He was no shy lover, but everything the tigress in her craved—needed—dreamt of and fantasized about. It wouldn't be difficult to change his mind, to keep him with her. The thought was there, unbidden, but strong in her mind. She didn't want him to leave her.

Vikirnoff lowered his head to kiss her. A small taste to get him through the separation, a mere brush of his lips against hers, but his will melted away as unexpected fire raged in his veins and his heavy erection pressed painfully against the material of his jeans. He heard a strange roaring in his head and every injury his body had suffered, every pinpoint of pain came together at the point of his groin. He needed. He hungered. He couldn't think anymore, only feel, pleasure and pain mixed together until he couldn't tell them apart. Until he knew this woman in his arms had to belong to him,
did
belong to him in spite of her denials. Not anyone else, only Natalya.

His mouth crushed hers, rough and demanding, teeth tugging on her lower lip, tongue sliding on the seam to thrust deep with his own claim. She realized he didn't want the separation any more than she did. He was more than willing to succumb to seduction. Wounded, in pain, it didn't matter, he would give everything up to claim her body, to be a part of her. Hunger seemed insatiable, hers, his, she couldn't even tell the difference, only that her fingers fisted in his hair and her head tilted back to give him a better angle while her mouth fed at his.