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.

Not the walls! She stared at the steps below her feet frantically. He's below us now. Vikirnoff, we have to get off the steps.

No, he's pacing along beside us.

I'm telling you he's below us.

Vikirnoff simply turned and dragged her into his arms, taking to the air to get her feet off the stairs. He was certain he was right. The creature was not below them, but instead was stalking alongside them, obviously aware of some break in the wall they had no knowledge of. He moved fast, using preternatural speed, racing through the twisting, narrow hall, staying as far from the left wall as possible. Even using his supernatural speed, the creature kept pace with them and then suddenly it was ahead.

He is moving into position to strike.

My ankles are burning. Which side? She gripped the knife.

Left.

Natalya shifted closer to Vikirnoff's left shoulder, knowing her knee was digging into the wound on his chest and her elbow had to be hitting his neck. He didn't wince, but she felt his pain. Not in her mind, but in her body.

I'm sorry.

Vikirnoff heard the soft whisper in his mind, felt her lips brush his temple. His gut clenched, a curious roll that was unfamiliar to him. She was combat ready. A part of him admired her, thought her extraordinary and another part of him was outraged that he was allowing her to be in harm's way.

She growled a warning. He had no idea whether it was meant for him, or for the creature stalking them, but the knife flashed as the opening yawned to their left and the narrow cavern erupted with a wild howl of pain and rage.

Blood splattered across Vikirnoff's face and Natalya's arm. It burned like acid. Natalya swore in his ear. I can't make it out, did you see it?

He glanced behind them, momentarily slowing down. Natalya gasped and jerked on his hair. Don't you dare! I mean it. We're getting the hell out of Dodge this time. I'm not tackling that thing when you're hurt and shadow warriors could be on us at any moment. Kick it up a gear, Speed Racer, and get us out of here.

He knew he was too badly injured to fight anything with the kind of speed and strength the creature displayed, but he wanted to get a look at it. We are not in Dodge nor am I Speed Racer. Is your Troll King a vampire?

Natalya had excellent night vision as well as olfactory senses. Even the tiny hairs on her body acted like radar, much like a cat's whiskers, yet she couldn't identify the creature through scent or sight. She had tried to look at it, but her impression was of something tall and very muscular. Like a very blurry Godzilla. And it smells familiar yet not. I can't explain it. It's very frustrating. And she was getting dizzy as they hurtled around narrow corners, just barely missing crashing into the walls. He stopped following us and is throwing a bit of a tantrum, digging in the ice. I think I scored a really good hit on him, there was a lot of blood.

Vikirnoff had no idea what or who Godzilla was, but it didn't matter. She couldn't identify the creature as vampire and it was going to come after her again and again until he destroyed the threat to her. He wasn't at all certain the creature was that injured. It was very possible he was trying to bring tons of ice down on top of them.

They needed to get out of the cavern immediately.

The hall encasing the stairs widened and Vikirnoff increased his speed, moving so fast he nearly missed the small tunnel that seemed to lead upward.

Wait! Natalya tugged at his hair again. That's it. The hidden entrance. I know it is. I feel it.

You are certain? He was already backtracking, feeling her certainty. She had mage blood in her and it had to be directing her.

Vikirnoff allowed her feet to touch the ice floor. At once she looked down, her eyes searching the floor around her. "I no longer feel his presence. Do you?"

Vikirnoff didn't believe she had felt his presence. Whatever was beneath them coming down the stairs had been no more than an illusion-and one she shouldn't have fallen for.

Natalya shook her head. "The entrance is here, Vikirnoff, we just have to find it."

"What happened to Vik?"

She glanced up at his droll tone, a small grin hovering around her mouth. "I wouldn't want you to think it was endearing or anything like that." "I doubt there is reason to fear." He stood directly behind her, his body shielding hers, his hands reaching around her, caging her in, as he pointed out faint marks in the ice. "What are those?"

"Ancient symbols."

"Can you read them?" It had been long since he had seen such things and his memory wasn't to be trusted unless it was necessary.

"Of course." She moved her hands with confidence, touching various symbols to arrange a pattern. "He loves patterns."

Vikirnoff dropped his hands on her shoulders. "Who loves patterns?"

Natalya tilted her head back to look at him with a frown. "What?"

"You said he loves patterns. Who loves patterns, Natalya?"

She rubbed her pounding temples. "I don't know. I detest not being able to remember things. I hate it, Vikirnoff."

His fingers massaged the nape of her neck, easing the tension out of her. "Do not worry about it now, think only of opening the entrance for us. We will work it all out."

10

Natalya hurried through the progression of symbols to open the exit. She wanted out of the cave more than anything else. Keeping her back to Vikirnoff, she glanced over her shoulder at him then looked quickly back at what she was doing. "I should never have considered the idea of removing your memories. Whether I could have or not is irrelevant. It's offensive. It's not right. The idea that someone tampered with my brain, deliberately removed my childhood and who knows what else, is so disturbing I can't even tell you. I have flashes of things I can't remember and it's maddening."

The door creaked open and light spilled in nearly blinding both of them. Natalya covered her eyes with her hands. "Is it morning already?"

"No, but it is close to dawn and we have been underground for hours. Give your eyes a moment to adjust." His arm curved around her shoulders and for a moment, she rested against his body.

"How are we going to get this thing completely off of my leg?" She ran her fingers over his arm, breathing in fresh air.

"In a day or two I will be at full strength. If I still cannot remove it, we will take you to a strong healer. In the meantime, you must be very careful."

His fingers continued working at the nape of her neck, a small massage to ease the tension out of her. It felt amazing, a gift she couldn't remember having before. It was such a small thing, but she'd been alone for so long without someone to comfort her, to talk with her, laugh or argue.

She acknowledged the longing with wariness. She and Vikirnoff had shared too much too fast and Natalya didn't trust it-him-or herself. Emotionally she was battered and bruised with reliving the past and witnessing the murders of her father, mother and grandmother. She was too vulnerable and she wasn't about to give herself away on those terms. She needed distance from Vikirnoff to regain her perspective and strength.

Natalya forced her spine to stiffen and stepped out into the predawn open air. They were on the mountain, but nowhere near the peak and certainly nowhere near the entrance they'd used. The breeze ruffled her hair and touched her face as she drew the fresh air into her lungs. Mist hung heavy above them, but at the lower elevation, the air was free of any preternatural warnings. She glanced over her shoulder to Vikirnoff and her breath caught in her throat. Out in the open she could see the damage done by the vampires, the scores of cuts and claw marks, the streaks of acid burns, and the terrible chunk out of his neck that had been cauterized and was black with burned blood and flesh. His chest wound stained his shirt red and his skin was unbelievably pale.

"You look awful."

"Let's get back to the inn before the sun rises," he answered.

"Can you get us back there? The tiger could carry you, but we're a long way from home."

Dawn would be breaking within minutes. Both of them were already exhausted and needed shelter as soon as possible. "I can get us to the inn. Come here."

Natalya had put distance between them, pacing restlessly, her mind turning over and over, trying to remember the shadowy figure that was so elusive. The one that liked patterns and who must have tampered with her brain so she couldn't remember most of her childhood. Xavier.

A thought came unbidden. Had the dark mage disguised himself as a hunter and murdered her brother? Again her gaze flicked to Vikirnoff. She had walked in his mind-saw the darkness crouching close, the bleak endless years of serving his people, saw, too, his joy in finding her. His puzzlement in who and what she was. Nothing like he thought. That hurt. Really hurt. And she didn't like that she'd allowed him into her mind and soul enough to hurt her.

Vikirnoff gathered her unresisting body into his arms and took to the air. He wanted to get them away from the mountain, away from the unknown creature that was using the mark on her ankle to track them. What is it? You are suddenly quiet and that is very unlike you.

Previous Top NextShe was so close to him, so close to his body. He was shielding them from eyes, not aggravating his injuries further by taking a different form. Heat poured off his body and into hers. His chest was hard and his thighs gripped her tightly. She became aware of her own body softening and fitting even closer to his. Desire shot through her, unexpected and piercing and totally out of place. She was being drawn, in spite of herself, into his world and she was terribly confused.

He whispered something in his language, something low and sexy, breathing it against her throat. She was vulnerable to his voice, to his accent, to the feel of his mouth moving against her skin.

What is it? Tell me?

Natalya shifted just a little to circle his neck with her arms, to weave her fingers into his hair while she told him the truth.

I looked into your mind, Vikirnoff. All this lifemate stuff you keep preaching is a bunch of crap. Part of her, some treacherous, lonely, feminine part of her desperately wanted it to be true. You want June Cleaver. Or Donna Reed. That's who you want. Some little yes woman with her apron on cooking you meals and saying "Yes, dear." Instead you're stuck with... She pulled her head back to look into his eyes. She knew she was showing him she was hurt. It didn't matter right then. She needed to belong somewhere. If only for a moment. He wanted a lifemate, but he didn't want her. She kept her gaze locked with his. You're stuck with Xena, warrior woman, who you don't want, can't conceive of and don't understand.

She felt his confusion. Puzzlement. His eyes changed color, deepened, darkened with such intense emotion he robbed her of breath. I do not know these women, Natalya. I do not hear jealousy as much as hurt and it is unacceptable to me that I would cause you sorrow. I do not desire them nor would I ever. I prefer not to eat food so I do not expect nor want cooked meals. And I have no other lifemate, only you. I have never met this Xena you speak of.

Part of her wanted to laugh and the other half wanted to cry. I'm Xena warrior woman, you dope. You don't know anything, do you? She rested her forehead against his. This lifemate thing wasn't your choice any more than it was mine. You didn't want me. I want to be wanted for who I am.

There was such sadness in her voice, in her mind, it echoed through Vikirnoff's heart. How can you think I do not want you? You are a miracle to me.

Natalya turned her head away. She'd been in his mind and she knew his thoughts. He wanted a submissive woman who would hang on his every word, not someone with a smart mouth and an attitude. For one moment she thought about trying to change, living to be what he wanted, but she could never mold her personality or drive the tigress out of her. She was passionate and fiery and entirely too impulsive. She didn't wait for someone to lead her, she took her own path and she couldn't imagine being any different.

She watched the ground below them, inexplicably sad, the vivid shades of green, the riot of colors from the meadows of flowers and the stacks of hay dotting the rolling hills, all blurring together until she blinked away the tears swimming in her eyes. There were people down there, people with lives far shorter than her life, but so happy.

People with families and children and someone to talk to. She had Vikirnoff. She knew he wasn't going to leave her, he believed he was tied to her for eternity, but he didn't want Natalya Shonski, with the blood of the dark mage running in her veins and a tigress crouching deep within her soul. He didn't want the woman who fought vampires and watched really bad movies on late night television.

Vikirnoff pressed his body tightly against hers so that she could feel what she did to him, the tight, painful ache that never seemed to entirely disappear, not even in the midst of danger. How could she think he didn't want her?