Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

of absolute command.
    In the distance, Ben came to an abrupt halt, then turned and calmly made his way back
     to the group. His expression was serene, as if he were out for a stroll through the
     park on a balmy summer day. He walked back to Riley’s side and stood there, silent
     and still.
    Even though Riley had given Dax the okay—even though she knew this was for Ben’s own
     good—watching him obey like a mindless puppet made her stomach churn. It was so wrong.
     Like slavery, only worse. At least slaves still possessed their own minds.
    “As will he, when I release him,” Dax said.
    Her eyes flared in alarm. She spun around. “Did you just read my mind ? Did you? Did he? ” She whirled on Jubal and Gary, looking for answers.
    “Riley . . .” Gary held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture.
    “I did. Forgive me if I offend, päläfertiilam . Your thoughts are very strong. I—” His voice hitched, and his expression flickered
     for an instant before he continued, “I must remind myself you are not familiar with
     Carpathian ways. I did not mean to intrude.”
    She frowned. That flicker in his expression had been a wince. He was in pain. Glancing
     at the still-dreadful gaping wound in his chest, concern overrode fear. “Sit down.
     Sit down and do whatever it is you need to do to heal yourself.”
    She laid a hand on his arm, intending to help him down, but the moment her flesh touched
     his, agony rocketed up her arm. She gasped and yanked her hand back. The pain vanished
     instantly.
    “Dear God, was that you?” She touched him again, and almost screamed. “It is. My God,
     it is. How can you bear it? You’re in agony.” She hadn’t thought about what terrible
     pain he must be in when he first stood up, tall and strong. He was a freaking vampire
     or hunter or whatever he was. Mythical creatures weren’t supposed to suffer, they
     weren’t supposed to hurt—but he did, and it was excruciating. She knew it. When she
     touched him, she could feel it as clearly as if it were happening in her own body.
    Unable to help herself, she touched him again. Something inside her demanded that
     she help him, that she heal him. It was almost a compulsion.
    Clearly, Dax wasn’t the one compelling her, because he gently pulled her hand away.
     “Do not, päläfertiilam . We cannot keep all the pain in check, and I would not have you hurt yourself on
     my account.”
    “We? Who’s we?” she asked in a distracted voice. Her attention was already, inexorably
     pulled back to Dax’s injuries. Looking at the wound, she could almost feel it herself.
     As if she were traveling inside his body, touching each raw nerve ending, broken bone
     and shredded muscle, feeling with gifts that had been passed down from generation
     to generation. Dax’s pain called to her, tore something deep inside, some barrier
     she hadn’t realized existed.
    Riley lifted her hand again and slowly placed it over the mud-packed hole over Dax’s
     heart. She pressed her palm against the wound, packing the earth deeper into the wound,
     completely unaware of what she was doing. Only aware that she needed to continue.
     There was something wrong inside him, something that seemed intent on consuming him.
     Sheer force of will held it in check. His will, stronger than the mountains, stronger
     than the earth itself.
    Her hand lifted, leaving a perfect handprint in the mud. She raised the same hand
     to his face and touched his cheek, wiping the blood and dirt from his cheek and trailing
     it slowly down his throat back over his heart. Words and patterns blossomed inside
     her mind. Power rose as Riley looked into Dax’s eyes, iridescent, beautiful eyes and
     focused on the gleam of scarlet fire that flickered in their depths.
    She slid an arm around Dax’s side, placing one hand over his heart and the other in
     the same spot on his back. Then she unleashed the power that was now a throbbing beat
     inside her. The raw, earthy force flooded through her hands, and Dax’s body devoured
     it. The power consumed the earth packed in his wounds and transformed the dense, rich,
     organic matter into skin, bone and muscle. She had no control over what happened next,
     no comprehension of how it happened. She only knew that the power in her called to
     the power in him, using the earth that bound them both together. Bones knit, nerves
     re-formed, tissues and blood vessels regrew with astonishing speed.
    When it was done, Riley’s