Carpathian 16 - Dark Demon

herself. She wanted to weep again, to claw at something until the wild grief in her was gone forever. It was sharp and terrible and took over when she least expected it.
    Even the tigress was weeping, deep inside, a stark loneliness that seemed to eat her from the inside out. The wood came off the floor in long narrow strips. She looked down at the slender splinters with horror.
    "Maybe you should go. I'm not certain it's safe anymore. I seem to be having a very difficult time." She swallowed the lump in her throat that was threatening to choke her.
    "This lifemate business is very uncomfortable."
    Jubal nodded. "So I've heard. He's really asleep, healing in the ground. He isn't dead, you know."
    "Intellectually I know he's not dead. And right now, I don't even like him all that much, but my mind needs to touch his for reassurance. He said some words, like a binding spell and I could feel the difference immediately. Even if you don't believe in that sort of thing, which I do, the binding works. I'm working on a way to reverse it."
    Gabrielle's eyebrow shot up. "You think there's a way to reverse it? I thought lifemates wanted to be together. You don't want to be with Vikirnoff?"
    Natalya opened her mouth to emphatically deny it. Of course she didn't want to be with him and he certainly didn't want to be with her. It was a chemistry thing. Lust maybe. She loved kissing him. But to spend her life with him? For eternity? Did she want that? With a man who wanted June Cleaver?
    She was so distracted by her fears for Vikirnoff, she nearly missed the footsteps stopping outside her door. Natalya held up her hand for silence and inched her gun closer to her.
    Jubal took the knife.
    The knock on the door was tentative. "Natalya. It's Slavica with your nightly chocolate."
    Not cans of hairspray. Chocolate. Natalya didn't order chocolate on a nightly basis. She signaled Gabrielle to go into the bathroom and Jubal to stand to the left of the door. She took the right, gun rock-steady and every trace of agitation gone.

Chapter 12
    "Please come in, Slavica," Natalya called out. "Can you get the door?"
    "Yes, I have my key." Which was unusual. Slavica would never enter a guest's room uninvited. She would knock and expect the guest to open the door.
    Natalya inhaled. Brent Barstow. She'd known all along he was something other than a guest. He was too observant and he'd visited her room once, which meant he was either a very creepy pervert, or he was up to no good.
    The key turned in the lock and Slavica pushed the door open. Heavy drapes covered the windows and doors, and night was falling. Natalya knew it would take a moment or two for eyes to adjust from the brightly lit hall to the dark of her room. Slavica stepped into the room carrying a tray with a steaming mug on it. Her eyes were red-rimmed and there was a faint bruise on her cheek. Anger flashed through Natalya and she pushed down the tigress before it could rise and wreak vengeance.
    Directly behind Slavica, Brent Barstow followed her, matching pace for pace, the muzzle of his gun pressed tightly against her neck. Natalya swung the door closed and pressed the muzzle of her gun against his neck. "Here's the thing, my man, I've had a really bad day.
    You don't even want to know about my day. And I think I'm PMSing on top of everything else. That's just wrong, you know? I'm betting that you care more about your own life than I do about a total stranger's life. What do you think?"
    "You're not going to pull that trigger," Brent said.
    "Actually, I want to pull the trigger. You threatened the innkeeper; it's not like I'm going to get in a lot of trouble. Take a look around my room, darlin'. Do I look like a sane chick to you?" She jammed the muzzle harder into his neck. "Cuz, I'm not. Quite sane that is. I like blowing things up."
    "I've got her family downstairs and if anything happens to me, they're all dead."
    "All the more reason to cap your ass and go take care of the problem downstairs."
    Brent lowered his gun and Jubal pulled Slavica to safety behind him.
    "They hit Mirko several times in the head. They wouldn't let me take care of him. And they have Angelina." Slavica set the tray down and pressed trembling fingers against her mouth. "There are three of them downstairs."
    Natalya slammed the barrel of her gun against the back of Brent's head, staggering him.
    "That's for being such a jackass. You kidnapped a little girl? I swear if there are any stray vamps hanging