“I am grateful you let me practice on him. Thinking it through in one’s head is not the same as actually experiencing it. Taking the heart was harder than I expected. I am strong, and yet you make it look easy when it is not. There must be a trick to it that I have not gotten yet. But I will. I do think I had an advantage in that I can barely feel the burn of the vampire’s blood anymore.”
To Ivory, it was heartrending that he thought the buildup of scar tissue from his vampire blood-coated chains was an asset. She wanted to weep for him. Instead she forced a casual response. “He was hardly worth messing up my fingernails.” She waved her hand and the ashes blew from the rickety building. “Come here. Let me make certain there is no poison in the lacerations.”
Razvan crossed to her side without hesitation. He caught her hand to examine her fingernails. “You are right. He was not worth messing them up. You have beautiful nails.”
To her consternation he brought her fingertips to his mouth and kissed them. “You forget to warm yourself.” He blew on her fingers and then drew them into the warmth of his mouth.
Her heart nearly stopped and then began to pound frantically. He was lethal at close range. That gentleness that was so much a part of him surrounded her, mesmerizing her as surely as her voice often captivated those within hearing distance. She took a breath and drew him deep into her lungs. She was tall and she could nearly look him square in the eye, but his shoulders were far wider than hers, even though she was wearing her thick fur coat.
She felt safe with him. Which was silly, and disturbing. She had learned never to trust anyone, yet she had let this man into her life. She didn’t need him. She didn’t want him. But standing so close to him confused her. Hunters had a certain energy surrounding them; everyone did. His was different. His energy was peaceful, absolutely peaceful. Almost serene. Breathing him in gave her strength in a way she’d never known before. He had a quiet acceptance over his fate, and the lack of need to control everything and everyone around him. In his own way, Razvan was enthralling, charming her without even trying.
Ivory swallowed hard and kept her gaze glued to the deep lacerations running up and down his chest. One particularly long scratch led down to his belly and disappeared into the band of his trousers. She laid her palm over one of the worst lacerations and closed her eyes, feeling for the poisonous brew that would signal parasites. Even though, after the first time, she knew the wounds were clean and merely welling blood, she continued to examine each individual injury.
She liked standing so close to him. The sense of serenity was an aphrodisiac in itself. She had heard of the practices in the Far East that had spread throughout the world, and to her this man embodied the very spirit of Zen. He
felt
calm. Even the simple pleasure he took in learning was without ego or rush.
Ivory leaned forward without conscious thought, her eyes half-closed, and slid her tongue over the long laceration, the healing agents in her saliva immediately removing the sting and closing the wound.
Razvan went still. “What are you doing?” His voice went hoarse.
Ivory noted the change in his breathing. He wasn’t nearly as calm now as he’d been a moment ago, and there was something enormously satisfying in that. Her palm slid down to the next scratch and her mouth followed. Every muscle was defined, jumping beneath her touch, his body radiating heat, smelling of the outdoors on a spring night.
His breath left his body in a rush. She felt the ripple in his taut belly as her mouth skimmed down his chest, lower, following the path of the laceration.
“What are you doing?” he repeated.
“Healing you.” Ivory’s voice had gone husky—almost liquid—betraying her.
He let his breath out in a long, slow exhale. “Listen to me, Ivory.” Razvan caught her wrists in his hands and held her away from him. His touch was gentle, incredibly so, but his grip was unbreakable without a fight. “My body betrayed me over and over. I do not even know how many times Xavier used my body to bring himself not only pleasure with other women, but to deliberately have a child with them so he could use the child’s blood.”
“I do not understand what you are saying to me.” Her eyes met his. Held there.
“I am saying this is dangerous. You are my lifemate and everything in me demands I claim you. Once I weld us together it is for all time. I would not do that to you when it is so dangerous. You seemingly purged Xavier, but I was weak enough once that he managed to place not one but four pieces of himself into me. He used me for abhorrent, vile crimes. There are children in the world who suffered horribly because of my body. I do not know them. I would not recognize them if I saw them.”
“You would,” she denied, believing her words. “You would recognize them.”
“The healer and the prince tentatively accepted me, but only because I was with you. You would live the life of an outcast should you join with me.”
Ivory shook her head. “You are so noble, Razvan, always putting others before yourself, but in truth, you have not thought this all the way through.”
What was she saying?
Ivory was appalled at herself, arguing with him as if she wanted him to claim her. When had her feminine nature become so perverse that she wanted him to want her, even though she would never accept his claim? What in the world had gotten into her? She must be far lonelier than she realized. She enjoyed her life. She had chosen her life. She licked her lips, tasting him. Craving him.
“I am sorry. I do not know what got into me.” She turned away from him, but he didn’t loosen his hold on her wrists, forcing her back to him.
“Do not do that. I would never reject the one person I want in my life. Though you have studied Xavier, you do not know how truly evil he is. If he knew you meant everything to me, that you are the reason I still live, then he would cease trying to find me and turn everything he has to acquiring you. I cannot allow that to happen. You are the one person I would trade my soul for. He cannot know that.”
She strained away a second time and he pulled her back, forcing her gaze to meet his, his grip firm, but still as gentle as ever, disarming her.
“I would trade everything, even honor, for you. It is the one thing I have kept intact all these long years. I endured much for honor.”
She nodded slowly. “Until I experienced the compulsion myself, I had no idea of the draw between lifemates.”
He shook his head slowly, still holding her gaze. “It is more than the draw between lifemates—much more. I have been inside your head. I have studied your home and the drawings you so patiently carved into the rock. Everything about you appeals to me. Every moment in your company only makes those feelings stronger. Perhaps the pull between us is strong physically because we are lifemates, but the pull on my heart and soul is equally as strong.”
She drew in her breath. “Thank you for that.” She would hold his words to her. They were spoken in truth. She knew purity when she heard it. “We must feed before we return to our lair, and I should erase the memories of the farmer and his wife so they do not inadvertently speak of this and draw Xavier’s attention.”
“I touched his mind.” Razvan brought up each of Ivory’s hands and pressed his mouth to the sensitive skin on her inner wrists where he’d been holding her. “The farmer would have fought for you, knowing he was going to die. He is a good man.”
“I liked his wife as well. I am glad we found them before it was too late. Very few vampires dare to enter into the territory protected by hunters. This is just outside the hunter’s range. I come here often to check, and even here, probably because the vampires disappear when they come this way, this region stays fairly safe—at least until recently, since Xavier has expanded his territories.”
Ivory stepped back away from him. She should have been shaken up by his rejection of her blatant advances, but instead, she felt comforted and... cared for. She hadn’t felt that way in more than a century. She found herself smiling up at him. His answering smile was slow in coming, but it warmed her.
Ivory paused and allowed her senses to flare out to search the night for other hidden dangers. A fox was close, searching for stray chickens that might have missed the lockdown for the night. A few mice hid from an owl circling overhead. She touched the owl several times to make certain it wasn’t something else in bird form, but it was diligently hunting for a meal and not at all interested in what was happening in the human world.
She could feel Razvan’s light touch as he followed her lead. The thing that stood out was his absolute lack of ego, which made for an extremely weightless touch, nearly impossible to detect. He would be a huge asset to any hunt just for that alone, but if he could plan battles in the way that he said, the two of them would have an even better chance to stop Xavier.
She touched the few floating clouds last, careful to examine each one to make certain they were genuine. When she went to step from the stable, Razvan stopped her with a touch to her shoulder.
“You did not search below the earth. That is Xavier’s realm and he sends every spy through the tunnels the worms dig for him. In a recent battle, he went himself, using my body, to try to murder my sister and the prince. Another time he tried to kill Shea, the sister-in-law of the prince and her unborn child. I would fear the ground more than any other method of travel.”
“I can sense the passage of the worms.”
“He sends spies in very small forms now. Scorpions and insects have become his allies. He uses others from another realm, such as the shadow warriors he has drawn against their wills from the ranks of the dead, but other much more demonic creatures as well.”
“He has never used insects to spy.”
“He has always used them, he just mutates them. You are looking for his mutations.”
Ivory let her breath out while she processed the information. “That explains a few things. You do know a lot about him.”
“I have been with him since my fourteenth year. I have been present for most of his experiments, if not all.”
Her eyes widened and her heart jumped. “He allowed you to watch him as he cast and wrote his spells?”
He nodded. “My sister was always good with spells. I have never been good. Once he recognized that, he did not fear my presence.”
“But you have a good memory.”
“I remember everything down to the smallest detail. That is why I am gifted when it comes to planning battles.” He wasn’t bragging, he was merely stating a fact.
Excitement coursed through her. “I really want to get this straight. You were present when he conducted his experiments and cast his spells? For his mutations? To bring the shadow warriors under his command? All of it?”
“He likes to brag. He needs admiration. He needs someone to know he is smarter than the rest of the world. He has few students. I can identify the mages helping him. Most fear him too much to be anywhere near him, and they should. He has no loyalty toward anyone. If he needs blood or a body for an experiment and he cannot get anyone else, he will lure an assistant to his death. I was extremely handy to have around. I had Carpathian blood he could drain from me, and he could brag.”
A small humorless smile curved his mouth. “For years I was able to disguise my blood and my abilities, until he took me over so completely. I paid for the indiscretion of besting him, as well as for trying to warn my daughter and sister. But it was worth it to know he was not entirely invincible.”
“I cannot imagine your life, or how you stayed sane.”
Razvan’s smile softened into the real thing. “No more than you, hacked to pieces and left for the wolves. Only you would have found a way to persuade the wolves to aid you. Your voice is an amazing asset, but it is your will that intrigues me.”
“Some would say I am too pushy and obstinate.”
“Some do not know you.”
Again her stomach did that fluttery thing she was coming to associate as a very feminine response to him. It didn’t upset her quite so much now that he admitted he was more affected by her than she had known.
She turned her attention to the ground, this time paying attention to the smallest insect. There was life beneath the snow, hiding in the richness of the soil and beneath the boulders and roots. She didn’t detect even a small hint of evil, but she remained silent, allowing Razvan to examine the ground. He had lived his life with Xavier, and knew every secret experiment, knew his habits. Her excitement at the prospect of working with him, of tapping into such a source of knowledge was growing.
She believed in her own abilities. She had studied Xavier’s ways and she believed she could unravel his spells and build counterspells to reverse his evil experiments if she knew the exact spell. If Razvan had really been present and could remember the exact wording, they would have a real advantage.
“I think we are safe,” Razvan said, “although that fox is hungry and may decide you look a fine, tasty treat.”
“Are you saying I look like a chicken?”
“Well, your feathers seem to be a little ruffled.”
She found herself laughing when she never laughed. Razvan was just plain fun. Maybe having someone to share life with made things fun. Whatever it was, she hoped she could hold on to it, even though the prospect was a little frightening, just because she’d never really had much to lose before.
She moved ahead of him, striding across the snow. Razvan followed a step or so behind, gliding to her left. She realized he was allowing the wolves to guard her back and he was taking up a position on her weakest side. Very few would discern that she had a weak side. She practiced all the time, using either hand to throw, shooting the crossbow with either hand and generally working to make both sides even, but she just wasn’t quite as quick with the left. He had a good eye for assessing an enemy.
Or a partner
.
They were getting used to sliding in and out of each other’s minds. From a warrior’s point of view, that was a huge asset; from a woman’s maybe not as much.
“Why?” Razvan sounded genuinely curious.