She was part Carpathian. She was capable of some feats, yet not all. She had the drawbacks, yet not the severity of them. She didn't belong in their world, she didn't belong to a species that had murdered her brother and waged a war over a woman, even if that woman had been her grandmother.
Mage blood ran strong in her. She was from ancient lines gifted with the ability to wield magick, to use the harmony of the earth, to harness the energies and spirits around her. She was adept at it, capable of weaving powerful spells, combining ancient text and her own inventions with astonishing results, yet there was nowhere for such things in the modern world.
The thought triggered a flash of memory, or perhaps a nightmare. I don't want to do that. It's too dangerous. Razvan, tell him what will happen if I call on that spirit. I won't. Razvan, he's hurting me. Make him stop! A shadowy figure stepped out of the darkness and loomed over her as her brother rushed to her aid. Gasping, Natalya pulled back…
What is it? There was alarm in Vikirnoff's voice.
Natalya closed her eyes, tears slipping past her lashes as she caught the vision of her
brother lying on the floor, his face already swelling and blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. As always a door in her brain slammed down, effectively stopping the replay of the distressing memory.
Natalya? Shall I come to you? What has upset you?
She leaned against the shower stall wall. There was such caring in his voice. She hadn't had caring or affection in a long, long time. Don't be silly. I'm just tired. Could he see all the way into her mind? Into the places that were so dark and shadowed and beyond her own ability to see?
Her father, Soren, had been half Carpathian and half mage. He had married a human, her beloved mother, Samantha. Natalya closed her eyes tight and tried not to think about her mother and the mess the vampires had made of her. Her father had gone a little crazy and left his children, Razvan and Natalya, alone while he went seeking to find his wife's killers. He had never returned and Razvan had become her only family.
Her eyes burned at the thought of her brother. So gentle with her, so careful to make certain she used every safeguard, dead at the hand of a hunter. She put her palm on the shower door as if she could feel Vikirnoff through the partition. The hunter was alive because she had chosen to save him.
Sighing, she stepped out of the shower and dried her body, wincing a little when she touched bruises. Natalya sagged against the wall, covering her face. What would Razvan say to her if he were alive? Would he be disgusted and ashamed of her? Or would he understand? She pressed her hands over her ears as if shutting out whispered recriminations.
She didn't understand why she was so drawn to the hunter, why she even considered the possibility of being his lifemate. In the past, she'd been a witness to a woman being drawn to a hunter in spite of her intentions not to be, but Natalya was not fully Carpathian or fully human. She was also wizard, with the blood of the dark mage flowing in her veins; few had her power. She did not believe she could be successfully bound. How could she expect Razvan to believe it if she did not? And how could she expect his understanding? She had the fear that he might reach out from his grave to condemn her.
Opening the bathroom door, she stood across the room from the badly injured hunter and wondered why she had been so determined to see him live. Natalya pulled on a pair of soft drawstring pants and a long sleeve shirt and stood watching Vikirnoff. He appeared to be dead. She couldn't detect the faintest breath of air moving through his lungs, but she didn't want to get that close to him yet. She still had the task of giving him blood.
You do not have to do anything so abhorrent to you, kislany. It is not necessary. I will survive.
Natalya stiffened. Had he been awake the entire time, a shadow in her mind? Why
couldn't she tell when he was merged with her?
«What are you calling me? What is Kish-lah-knee'?»
The emphasis is on the first syllable. Kish-lah-knee. It means «little girl.»
Natalya sucked in her breath, anger rising instantly. «What else have you called me?» She was no little girl, no baby, and she damned well wasn't afraid of him. Well, maybe that wasn't altogether true, but she refused to be intimidated when the hunter was so gravely wounded. She pushed up her sleeve in a business-like manner and forced herself across the room.
I called you my «little slip of a girl» and, «forever mine.»
The weariness in his voice tugged at her heart in spite of her anger. He was using too much energy when he needed desperately to conserve. «I am not a 'slip of a girl' or a 'little girl,'» she declared. «I'm a grown woman and I expect you to treat me with respect.»
As you do me?
She slashed her wrist and pressed it to his mouth. Pain knifed through her, but she stuck her chin in the air and accepted it. She wasn't going to feel guilty. He was a hunter, for heaven's sake. One of her greatest enemies, she'd saved his life, that should have been enough.
«You are not a «little slip of a girl».» But you are ainaak enyem, «forever mine.» I thank you for taking care of me when you are uncertain if it is the right thing to do.
«Don't thank me. I don't want your thanks. Just hurry up and get better so I can throw you out. Maybe your prince will come and take you home with him and get you out of my hair.»
And this night she dared not summon her dream of Razvan as she did each time she slept. She loved to go to sleep and call on her childhood memories of her twin so she could spend time with him. They had always met in their dreams and exchanged whatever each of them had been taught. It was all she had left to her, but not this time. She didn't dare face him, not with a hunter sleeping in her bed and her blood flowing in his veins. Not even when Razvan was dead.
I do not belong with the prince. I belong with you.
Natalya sighed and waited until he politely closed the gash on her wrist with his tongue. His touch was a velvet rasp that sent heat right up her arm. «I don't think we're right for one another. You don't even like me, Vikirnoff. My grandmother couldn't have been a true lifemate to her Carpathian if she fell in love with my grandfather. I was told the binding words only work on a true pair. I do not think we are true lifemates. We aren't compatible.»
Vikirnoff opened his eyes. She had forgotten how black his eyes were. How intense his
gaze was. Even in the darkness she could see that he had night vision, just as she did. «Rhiannon was with her true lifemate. Xavier murdered her lifemate and imprisoned her.»
«She was in love with Xavier. I've heard many stories about their life together. Their time was short, but they lived every moment together happy.»
His tongue moistened his dry lips. Natalya's heart jumped. She couldn't stand to see him in pain. «There was a war, Natalya. People were being killed. Do you believe she would have been happy? Would you have been? Xavier wanted immortality. He had longevity, but only Carpathians could live on and on. He was a powerful wizard but he couldn't find a way to live forever as he wanted.» His voice trailed off.
«Don't talk anymore. We don't need to do this now.» She didn't want to think about Xavier or her troubled nightmares of him. She didn't want to think about her father or mother. Most of all she didn't want to think about Razvan. «Please, just go to sleep and do me the courtesy of staying out of me mind.»
His eyes closed. That is an unreasonable request. If I do not share your mind, how can I see to your health and safety and happiness? It is my duty as your lifemate to provide these things.