Vikirnoff studied the tiny microorganisms clinging in clusters to the original puncture wound. They wiggled like little worms and around the wound, the area appeared inflamed
and swollen. He had seen such things before. His brother's lifemate, Destiny, had been infected with such microorganisms. The imprint of the hand itself was branded deep into Natalya's skin and blisters formed in small clusters around the bony-looking fingers.
The parasites tried to hide or run from the white light of his healing spirit, but he was relentless, ridding her body of every single one, taking more time than they comfortably had to ensure her bloodstream and her every cell were free of the microorganisms. Only when he was certain he had eradicated every one of the intruders did he turn his attention to the original wound. What kind of mark had been branded into her flesh and bone? He had thought he had healed the injuries earlier, but the puncture wounds had reopened deep in her ankle.
He was not a master healer but he should have been able to repair her body. She should have had extraordinary shields to keep out the vampire and, to some extent, him, but her mind was vulnerable. It didn't make sense. He was missing something important and it could cost them both their lives. Again, he repaired her ankle, paying particular attention to the tissue around the wound, inspecting it carefully to make certain he had closed and sealed the wound properly after removing all infection.
The brand seemed to be an entrance for more microorganisms, but he couldn't figure out how. This was very complex and alarms shrieked at him. Maxim or one of his brothers might have the brains to figure something like this out, but he doubted they'd have the patience. This took experimentation, time, endless time. Someone had worked in a laboratory and combined old magick with modern science.
Healing the brand on her skin required more time and energy than exterminating the parasites. The blisters and burn marks disappeared easily, but the brand itself was stubborn, refusing to give way before the white light. In the end, Vikirnoff managed to erase a small part of the palm only.
He pulled back into his own body swaying with weariness, worry on his face. Natalya studied his expression and looked down at her leg. «It's still there, isn't it? What exactly is it?»
«The original puncture wound is the host, I think. The brand allowed entrance for tiny parasites, very small, microorganisms. They are difficult to detect and there's something strange about them. Someone developed them, cultivated them in a lab and mutated them using some sort of chemical.»
Natalya stiffened. «Chemical? A chemical was attached to the parasite? As in a potentially explosive chemical?» She rubbed her temples and shook her head.
«What is it, Natalya?»
The gentleness in his voice warmed her. He looked so tired, lines etched into his face, his skin pale. She brushed his jaw with her fingertips. «One of my memories that doesn't quite
connect. I thought of that. In an experiment once, but I can't remember what I was doing.»
«And you are getting a headache.»
She smiled at him. «One more ache among many. Thank you. I know it wasn't easy trying to get those things out of me.»
«We will remove any that linger as soon as we can, Natalya. And we will find a way to get your memory back if at all possible. This practice of marking with parasites is something fairly recent the vampires seem to be using to identify one another.» His fist bunched in her hair, fingers rubbing silken strands. For a brief moment he rested his brow against hers. «We will make it out of here. You know that, right?»
Natalya stayed close to him, skin to skin, her hand on his face, his in her hair. They were both exhausted and hurting, physically and emotionally. «I'm glad you're with me, Vikirnoff.»
His smile was slow in coming, but it reached his eyes. «It has been a fun adventure, has it not?»
«Oh, you're funny. Now you think you're a comedian. Adventure my butt. Let's get out of this place.» Natalya stood up and looked around her. The stairs seemed endless, giving off a strange translucent glow that only made the effect creepier. «Do you think we're going to run into something worse?»
«Worse than the vampires or the shadow warriors?»
She shook her head. «Worse than whatever is tracking me beneath the ground.»
Their gazes locked. Vikirnoff had such compassion in his eyes, Natalya looked away, afraid she would cry. The idea of parasites clinging to her body or even just the hand branded on her skin, sickened her.
«We will get rid of it, ainaak enyem.»
The way he said the endearment turned her heart over. «What does that mean exactly?» She tried to interject suspicion into her voice, as if he was still calling her slip of a girl or something equally obnoxious, but she recognized the word ainaak as forever. More than that, it was the way he said it, the look in his eyes.
«Forever mine.» His fingers curled around hers. «Which you are.»
She gave an inelegant snort of what she hoped would sound like derision. She felt a little foolish walking down the stairs holding his hand, but it was comforting. «How was he able to get into my head, Vikirnoff?»
«Maxim?»
«He was able to crawl inside of me.» She shuddered and he felt the revulsion rippling through her mind as well.
«I am not certain,» he replied carefully.
«But you have an idea.»
«Shields are safeguards. Blocks. We weave them automatically and we expect that no one will come into our minds and tear them down.» A muted sound distracted him, divided his attention. It was hushed, stealthy, as if someone or something was nearby. Even with his extraordinary night vision he couldn't see beyond the ice pack of the walls bulging around them and overhead. The staircase wound downward, but now was leveling off and curving toward the south.
Natalya chewed at her lower lip, frowning, concentrating on what he was not saying. «Why would my safeguards be destroyed?»
«I do not know. How did the shadow warrior get into the room at the inn?» He sent his senses seeking around them for any hint of danger. Something was definitely moving in the darkness off to their left. The wall of ice was thick between them, but the unknown stalker kept pace with them. We are not alone. Keep talking, but do not say anything of importance.
Natalya let go of his hand and dropped back two stairs to give both of them room if they should have to fight. The feel of her knife was familiar and even comforting as she laid the blade up along her wrist to conceal it. «It's cold down here. You aren't even shivering.» She allowed the tigress to rise toward the surface just enough for her to utilize the superior senses of the cat. At once she scented something peculiar.
It smells like something wild. Not a vampire, but not human. Not Carpathian. I don't recognize the scent… yet I do.
She uttered a small shriek of frustration in her head. I detest having my memories so fragmented.
«I can regulate my body temperature,» Vikirnoff responded aloud. «You can, too.» Does it smell the same as the creature that caught your ankle and tried to drag you beneath the ground?
At once he heard her heart begin to accelerate wildly, but she was game enough, snorting derisively. «If I could regulate my temperature, Vik,» she smirked at him when he threw her a warning glance over his shoulder. «I'd be doing it.»
Keep an eye on the walls. He gave her the warning as he searched the wide expanse of ice.