Dark Storm (23 page)

“You mean he’s got to suck someone’s blood?” She took a half step away from the Carpathian. “He’s got to drain one of us to survive?”

“Carpathians take only what is needed,” Dax explained hastily, clearly making an effort to still the rising distrust in her.

“Carpathians have lived for centuries in harmony with humans,” Jubal added quickly. “Please, there will be time to explain everything later. For now, we need to help heal Dax. If that vampire released from the volcano comes back—”

“He will,” said Dax.

“—we’re going to need the hunter at full fighting strength.”

“Do not fear,
sivamet
,” Dax said, and the soft, husky timbre of his voice ensnared her once again. “If it comes to it, I will die before allowing Mitro Daratrazanoff to hurt you, but it would be best for all if I faced him in full health.”

Her gaze dragged back up his torso, pausing as it reached the terrible wounds gaping in his flesh.

“Can you really heal him, Jubal?” Her voice didn’t seem like her own, and neither did her reaction. For reasons she didn’t understand, the sight of the man’s terrible wounds was almost more than she could bear. The thought of his pain horrified her on a deeply personal level—affecting her as viscerally as the sight of her mother murdered before her eyes. She couldn’t bear the thought of this man suffering, and she didn’t know why. She was certain that brief glimpse of agonizing pain had been his.

Vampires and hunters, volcanos and dragons: this whole situation was crazy, but she couldn’t tolerate the idea of this hunter—
Dax
—suffering one more second of pain. She looked at Gary. “Fix him now.” Her voice carried with the power of her ancestors, and something in him seemed to rock with her words.

There was a brief moment when no one moved. Even the world around them seemed to hold its breath. Everything went still. Gary moved first, looking almost formal, standing in front of Dax with a slight bow.

“
Saasz hän ku andam szabadon
,” Gary murmured in the hunter’s ancient language. Without flinching, he offered his unbroken wrist to the hunter.

Whatever the words meant, the hunter clearly took them as an invitation, because without delay he bared his fangs and bit down, his mouth closing around Gary’s wrist. Gary’s expression flashed briefly with pain before going totally relaxed.

Riley’s heart nearly stopped beating. Her hand went defensively to her throat. She felt her pulse pounding there. For a moment, the flash of fangs had been shockingly sexy. She wanted Dax’s mouth on her neck, his teeth sinking into her—not Jubal. Blinking, shaking her head at her strange compulsion, she nudged Jubal.

“What did Gary say to him?”

“It is a custom of Carpathians. Gary said, take what I offer freely. That means, Gary would exchange his life for that of the hunter if it was necessary. He is asking no favor in return for his blood,” Jubal explained.

Riley couldn’t help but watch. The movement of Dax’s mouth on Gary’s wrist fascinated her. The hunter’s fangs joined the two men together, as if they were close brothers, one saving the other without thought for his own safety. Dax appeared stoic, but the flames in his strange, multifaceted eyes leapt and danced. She felt her heart tune to the rhythm of the hunter’s as if they were connected instead of hunter and friend. Her blood sang in her veins, surging hotly.

Dax’s gaze jumped to her face.

Dax released Gary and straightened. There was no trace of blood on his lips and no sign of a wound on Gary’s wrist. She didn’t know what to think. Beside her, Ben stood in shivering paralysis.

The gaping wound in Dax’s chest did begin to bleed then, but some invisible force kept the blood from spilling out of the wound. Dax scooped fresh dirt from the ground, spat into it, and packed his wound with the mixture. His eyes closed, as if packing his wound with mud brought some sort of relief.

“I have not had blood in many centuries. It is both wonderful and awful.” His gaze drifted over Riley’s face. “I am starved, and yet I dare not take too much. Just enough to heal my wounds until I am used to feeding again. Then I will need to sustain myself in order to hunt the undead.”

Riley pressed her lips together, nodding as if she understood when she didn’t really. Jubal seemed to though. He stood in front of the hunter and offered his unbroken wrist.

Dax reached for the other arm with surprisingly gentle fingers. “This pains you. The bone is broken.” Even as he spoke he ran his hand over the injury.

Riley watched closely. Heat seeped out from between Dax’s palm and Jubal’s skin. She could see a faint glow, and she was close enough to feel the warmth as well. The little white lines of pain eased on Jubal’s face.

“Is that better?”

Jubal nodded. “Much, thanks.”

Riley noted that Dax didn’t apologize for having broken Jubal’s arm in the first place, nor did Jubal seem to expect him to do so.

Jubal murmured the same exact phrase in Carpathian as Gary, and just as before, Dax bowed, took the offered wrist and drank.

This time when he finished, Dax thanked the two men and then looked at her. Her whole body tingled. Heat washed up her spine and her gaze fixed on his mouth.
What is wrong with me?
She should be screaming in horror. This was an honest-to-God vampire right in front of her eyes, drinking blood from her friends. And she was just standing there, marveling at him.

She touched her tongue to suddenly dry lips. His gaze jumped instantly to her mouth and those flames in his eyes leapt higher. Her thighs tingled. Her breasts ached. She swallowed hard and instantly his gaze was on her throat. He seemed aware of every move she made, every breath she took.

Beside her, Ben began shaking horribly. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. He’s going to kill us. He’s going to kill us all.”

Ashamed that she’d forgotten he was even there, she reached over to lay a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Ben. If Jubal and Gary say he’s a friend, I think we should believe them.”

Poor Ben didn’t believe them. He must have thought the vampire was going to drink him dry, because his mind completely snapped. With a shriek, he spun around and started racing through the jungle, bouncing off trees in his mad rush to escape.

“Ben!” Riley spun around. “Someone stop him! He’s out of his mind.”

“I can bring him safely back and keep him calm,” Dax said, “but that requires me to control his mind, which you have already told me I must not do.” One dark brow arched. He stood there, waiting for her to make the decision.

She bit her lip. On the one hand, she hated the idea of him controlling Ben’s mind—of him controlling
anyone’s
mind. On the other hand, in his current state, Ben was going to injure himself or worse. And if that evil vampire was still roaming around …

She glanced again into the forest where Ben continued to shriek and stumble, running into a bush first and then a tree. She winced when he went down and then scrambled back up only to run again.

“Do it.”

The hunter reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. His expression softened with unexpected gentleness, making him look almost … kind. In a rough-edged, dangerous, bloodsucking, gorgeous vampire sort of way, that is.

“It is for the best,
päläfertiilam
. I will do him no harm, I promise you.” Then he switched his attention to Ben’s fleeing figure, and his expression turned to stone. Fixed, focused, unyielding. He spoke in that ancient language of his, and though Riley couldn’t understand the words, there was no mistaking the tone 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 consciousness came rushing back to her body. She sagged against him. Now, it was his arms coming up to steady her. She stared up at him, dazed, still feeling everything he was, as if she were connected to him, as if she were part of him. She knew she had somehow, miraculously, healed him. Healed him completely. Yet, it still felt like she’d missed something. He was still in so much pain, and he shouldn’t be.

Riley’s brow crinkled as she tried to work through the confusion. Her eyelids became very heavy and it was suddenly all she could do to try to keep them open. The effort was too much for her. Exhausted, blackness swallowed her up, and she collapsed in the arms of the hunter.

Dax found himself smiling down at his lifemate.
What a gift she possesses.
She had healed him—and not with methods known and used by Carpathians, but by manipulating the earth itself. She had touched him, and the earth in his wounds had transformed at her command. Dax checked his wounds, flexing his muscles experimentally. The hole Mitro had torn in his chest was gone. The countless, bone-deep slashes torn by razor-sharp talons had knitted together, leaving not even the smallest seam to prove they’d ever existed. He’d not even needed to go to ground!

Even Arabejila, more gifted in earth than any Carpathian he’d ever known, had never possessed such an amazing talent.