Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

of her head against the wall in frustration. What is wrong with me ?
    Nothing is wrong with you. You were given a version of a story and you believed it. You think I am your enemy and yet you are the other half of me and your soul recognizes me. It is no wonder you are confused.
    Vikirnoff's calm voice intruded into her mind. The voice of reason. Purity. Truth. So in control—as if giving her permission to be upset. And it annoyed the hell out of her. Don't make excuses for me. I'm perfectly capable of making up my own mind. Everything about you annoys the holy hell out of me .
    Everything ? His tone was mild, but the inflection was suggestive.
    Natalya squeezed her eyes closed tight as warmth flooded her body. If his voice could make her weak with wanting him, she was terrified of what might happen if he touched her.
    She was vulnerable right now. That was the trouble. She longed for a home and a family.
    For someone to share her life and he came along, all handsome with those eyes and that mouth and body, and she'd tripped. That was all. A small stumble.
    Slavica spoke again. "I'll need your saliva. Mine has no healing properties."
    Natalya's stomach rolled and her muscles clenched in protest. "Damn it," she muttered as she flung open the bathroom door. She hurried out, grabbing the wooden bowl filled with rich, dark soil, not daring to look at Vikirnoff. "I'll do it," she announced, exasperation coloring her tone. If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your freakin' mouth shut.
    And you won't dare smirk, because in all honesty, I have no idea what I'll do if you are that stupid and insensitive .
    I have never been accused of being insensitive . Vikirnoff wasn't certain that was altogether the truth. His brother's lifemate, Destiny, had definitely made a few pointed remarks about his lack of knowledge about women.
    "Of course, Natalya," Slavica encouraged. "I'm grateful for the help. Healing a Carpathian is quite different from healing a human."
    "Have you done it before?" Natalya asked, curious. It just didn't seem likely that the Carpathian race would share such vital information as their way of healing with humans.

    Natalya glanced at Vikirnoff, unable to help herself. Her heart shifted uneasily. Had he always been so pale? There were dark circles under his sunken-in eyes. White lines around his mouth were the only real external signs of pain, but she felt it. And she knew he was, in some way, shielding her. That irritated her as well.
    She was every bit as powerful and capable as he was. Just because he knew that you had to incinerate vampire hearts in order to kill the undead did not make him more powerful or dangerous, only more knowledgeable. She risked another glance at him as she worked on the soil, trying not to notice the way Slavica touched him. It was impersonal, she could read Slavica's mind, knew there were no inappropriate thoughts, only her need to help heal Vikirnoff's wounds. There was also a very real worry that she would not be able to save him. Still, watching another woman's hands on his body was disturbing.
    "Tell me what else he needs," Natalya said before she could stop herself. A slow hiss of exasperation escaped, but she grimly kept up with her task. She knew the soil was all important, that it would be packed into Vikirnoff's wounds.
    "He needs blood, lots of it. And he needs the earth and someone to enter his body and heal him from the inside out."
    Natalya pressed her back against the wall. Damn the man. I sure as hell do not want to crawl inside your mind and body .
    I would not ask it of you.
    She ground her teeth together. Of course he wouldn't ask. If he'd asked, she would have told him to go to hell, but no, he had to be all stoic and heroic on her. He didn't ask her to bring him back to the inn, but he'd looked at her with his intense black eyes and left her no choice.
    I was unconscious.
    If you knew what was good for you, you'd be unconscious now . She fumed at him, glaring, but he kept his eyes closed. And that brought her attention to his black lashes and their incredible length.
    "I've healed myself from the inside out, Slavica. It requires a great deal of concentration and if he stays quiet and doesn't say anything stupid and make me so mad I want to add a few extra wounds to him, then it may just work."
    Vikirnoff's mouth curved into a faint smile. "She sounds so loving."
    Slavica laughed. "She does at that, Mr. Von Shrieder."
    "Vikirnoff," he corrected. "I don't