Chapter Four.

Jule awoke in a haze of hot and cold. His body shook uncontrollably, and something warmed his side. He pushed himself up, glancing at the Magician's body. She was curled up beside him in a tight ball. His tingling senses awoke him, but he was too weak to do more than look around the room.

A hand clamped on his shoulder. Too weak to push it off, he let his head drop back onto the cushion behind him. He couldn't focus on the face, but he saw the glowing red eyes. Vamp. Adrenaline spun through him, and he staggered up, ready to fight it off.

"Easy," the vamp said. Maybe it was his delirium, but Jule thought the vamp looked larger than even Damian. "You don't remember me."

"Fucking vamp," Jule slurred. His head spun, and his legs belted. "Wait one minute. I'll kill you."

The vamp chuckled. "No need. Look closer."

Jule rested where he'd fallen and tried to concentrate. The vamp wasn't attacking. In fact, it sat calmly on the couch across the room from him.

"I don't know you," Jule said. "Should I?"

The vamp frowned. "Yes, you should. We all know each other."

"Define we," Jule replied.

"The Originals."

Jule sighed. "You're a dream. The Original Beings are locked up. The Watchers said so."

"What happened to you?" the vamp asked, leaning forward in interest. Jule had the sense of a memory at the edge of his fevered mind. He focused on it, trying to recall why he felt he should recognize the vamp.

"Xander," he said. "Your name is Xander."

"They wiped your mind," the vamp said. "I hope whatever you traded for your freedom was worth living like this, if you call this living."

"Cassandra," Jule murmured.

"No, she wasn't why you were exiled. No human could've caused this."

"Original Vamp," Jule said, barely registering the creature's words. His body was on fire again, and sweat trickled down his face. Xander's face faded in and out of focus, and his thoughts kept drifting away. Jule tried hard to follow the conversation.

"You freed all of us," the vamp continued. "It just took the rest of us a while to shake off the bonds."

Jule shook his head. None of the vamp's words made sense. Darkness was creeping from the edges of his mind.

"Find me when you're ready," the vamp said. He stood. "The Oracle will know where I am."

The dream faded, and Jule slumped to the ground again, unable to fight the darkness.

The sound of voices woke her. Jule had moved and collapsed in a heap a few feet away. He was mumbling in his sleep. Yully moved towards him and dragged his fevered body close to the fire again.

She worked tirelessly all night to clean the blood off of Jule. She marveled at his muscular body and the perfectly sculptured chest, shoulders, ridged abdomen, and biceps too large to wrap her hands around. His skin was soft despite his strength, a combination the woman in her found appealing. Removing the blood, she found every part of his exposed skin was covered in the colorful tattoos. She cleaned him up then took a shower and dug out musty clothing from a trunk at the bottom of one wardrobe.

Finally, she settled beside him, willing him to make it through the night. If he could shake his fever and take care of himself, he'd be okay alone. She knew she'd have to leave him. Her father would hunt them both down, and if he didn't, the sword-wielding maniac would. They weren't safe together, especially since the powerful connection between them was driving her body crazy just sitting so close.

Yully dozed twice and forced herself up. There was no food in the cottage, so she turned a small log into cans of soup. Just before dawn, she made herself soup and turned a box of cornmeal into bread. The cottage had grown warm quickly, and she kept the stove's belly full of wood.

Jule slept past dawn then into midday. She sat beside him and touched his skin. A strange energy ran between them, as if she could absorb the faint stream of his magic. There was more, though. It was not just his magic, but his soul that flowed into her. She pulled both into her body.

Her brow furrowed, and she straightened. She withdrew then touched him again, this time pushing the energy she'd absorbed-- and her own-- into him. His body took it this time, and his soul didn't laugh at her as it had when she tried to turn him into a rock. In fact, his sleeping body welcomed her energy. Magic hummed between them, and she began to realize he wasn't human, and he wasn't like her father. The sense of communicating with him through their magics relaxed her, made her drowsy. She didn't know what he was, only that the ebb and flow of magic and energy between them felt ... natural.

She fell asleep beside him again, their bodies humming in silent communication, until he awoke some time later. Yully woke with him and pushed herself up, expecting the worse.

"Hungry," he whispered.

Elated he was somewhat alive, she bolted to the kitchen for soup. Jule's shaking had stopped, and he looked pale rather than flushed from a fever. He'd managed to push himself into a sitting position when she returned with soup and water.

"How are you?" she asked and sat beside him again.

"Good as new," he said.

"I don't think you're there yet," she replied skeptically. He accepted the bowl of soup and sipped in silence for a few minutes. When he'd finished, he swapped out the soup for the water. "You were mumbling in your sleep about killing people."

"I've got a list of people I probably should," he said with gentle humor. He studied her. "You believed that, didn't you?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes, because you're a Guardian."

"And?"

"It's what Guardians do. They kill people."

"According to who?" he asked. "Let me guess. Your father."

She nodded.

"And you believe him?"

"You may be the exception," Yully said.

Jule studied her. He lowered the soup, and their arms brushed, opening the gateway for energy between them. His gaze went to their arms.

"Interesting," he said. "You're absorbing what little power I have."

Flustered, Yully started to rise. Jule rested a large hand on her forearm, and she stilled, meeting his intense gaze. His direct look warmed her body on the inside in a way she knew wasn't appropriate for the time, place, or man in front of her.

"You always run," Jule said in his soft growl. "You don't need to run from me."

She flushed and looked down. Jule lifted her chin, his warm touch and nearness stirring her blood.

"Can you channel the energies you feel?" he asked.

"I've never felt anything before you," she said. Her face grew hotter. "I mean, I never tried. I don't interact with people much."

"I understood," he replied with a smile. His energies flexed, the hum between them growing stronger. Intrigued by the sensations, she found herself unwilling to look away from him this time. "You feel it?"

"Yes, I feel it."

"You can channel it."

Instead of responding, she concentrated on pulling his energy into her body then pushed it back. The connection she'd experimented with when he slept grew intimate when he was awake. She hadn't thought twice about how personal it was to touch another's soul, until fire and interest sparked in his warm gaze. His touch turned electric, and his magic skimmed her blood. Her breathing quickened, her heart fluttering. The room suddenly seemed too small for the both of them, and she became as aware of his heartbeat as her own. She wanted more of Jule's magic caressing her from the inside, and his soft skin caressing her on the outside.

"You called me beautiful last night," she breathed. "Were you in shock?"

"Yes," he said with a soft laugh. "But I meant it." His thumb caressed her cheek then her bottom lip.

Yully closed her eyes, entranced by the sensations. His first kiss was light, as if he were testing her. She responded, shivering at the energy that fluttered through her when their lips touched. His lips turned more demanding, and he took her hands in his. His energy rippled through her, making her gasp at the intensity of the touch that lit her blood on fire.

She leaned into him, needing more of his magic and his touch. For the first time in her life, she wanted not to feel completely alone. She'd touched his soul, and now she touched his body. If she could just have both ...

Jule groaned, not out of pleasure but pain. Yully snapped back to her senses, her eyes opening. In her haste to be close to him, she'd planted a shoulder in his injured chest.

"You're determined to do me in," Jule said with a husky chuckle.

"Oh, god!" she gasped. "You're bleeding again!"

He looked down, and she bounded to the kitchen, surprised to find her breathing ragged after such a simple kiss. She tried to regain her composure, unable to compare the brief experience with Jule to anything else she'd ever felt. She wanted more ...

She shook her head and took a wet washcloth into the living room. Jule was resting against couch cushions she'd put on the floor for him. The sight of his muscular, bare torso made her heart flop in her chest. Handing him the washcloth, she sat out of arms' reach, afraid of what would happen if she touched him again. She was even more afraid of what he'd say, if he thought something was wrong with her like everyone else did.

"Pretty useful gift you have," Jule said without looking at her. He dabbed at the blood on his chest. "I can see why they're after you."

"So I can turn things into something else," she said. "Doesn't seem too great."

"You can turn someone else's energy into yours and amplify it. For someone who needs more power, it's a very useful talent." His calm voice assured her he wasn't going to pass judgment on her gift. He didn't seem like the kind whose moods shifted like her father's.

"I guess," she murmured.

"You really have no idea how special you are, do you?" he asked and met her gaze.

She wanted to think he was talking about more than her powers, but such an idea was out of the question. Her father hated this man for some reason, and being near him put them both in danger.

"What happened?" He reached for her face, and she flinched away. "Your father does this?"

Yully touched her swollen eye and cheek self-consciously.

"Want me to kill him for you?"

She smiled and met Jule's gaze. He was serious.

"He's my father, Jule," she said. "He just has a hard time controlling his temper, and I don't pay him enough respect."

"You don't believe this is your fault."

"It is. I shouldn't have taken you the blanket, but I didn't want you to ..." Tears filled her eyes again, and she paused, embarrassed.

"You didn't want me to hurt like you do," he finished for her.

She nodded. "It's stupid, I know."

"No, it's incredible. Like you." His voice was soft, and she fought the urge to reach out to him.

"I've tried to run away so many times." She cleared her throat. "But when I do, whatever I am, I can't get far without terrifying the people around me. I always end up running back to Father. He doesn't even notice anymore when I disappear for a day or so, because he knows there's nowhere for me to go."

"He's not your biological father?"

"No. He adopted me when I was ten. I lived in foster homes stateside up until then. He brought me here. Tried to put me in school, but my strange gift frightened everyone. I learned what I know of the world from reading in his library, and I learned to fight."

"You fight very well."

She wiped her eyes and smiled. "I know. It's the only thing I do well."

His gaze was warm. The fever had left him, and while he looked pale beneath his cocoa skin, he was alert and his speech coherent. She knew she needed to leave him but couldn't find it in her to abandon the only place she'd ever felt safe. She tried not to flinch when he touched her cheek. His hands were rough and calloused, but his touch was light and opened the comforting flow of energy between them. She marveled at the combination of strength and gentleness. Jule was so much bigger than her father. He could do so much more damage.

Or he could protect her.

"In the alley, when you blasted me, what were you trying to do?" he asked. He lowered his hand and took one of hers. As if worn out, he rested his head against the cushions.

"Turn you into a rock."

"You can do that?"

"I think so. I can turn anything into something else the same size, but I'd never tried with a person before." She lifted one of the spare pillows and turned it into a rolled-up blanket. She draped it over him. "Jule, what are you? You're not like me, and you're not like my father."

"It's a long story."

"You're too weak to go anywhere," she pointed out. For the first time since they met, Jule seemed to withdraw for a moment. Yully waited curiously.

"It's not easy admitting what you are sometimes," Jule said.

"You aren't alone in that," she said with a small smile.

"True," he replied and smiled back at her. "I think you put a spell on me, sweetheart. I can't refuse to answer you."

Her face warmed again. He took her hand and pulled her close enough for their bodies to touch. The flow of energy soothed her, and she relaxed against him.

"I'm an immortal who's older than dirt. I don't remember much of my time before coming to this world, except I was expelled. Apparently, I chose a woman over life in the immortal realm."

Yully's disappointment was soul-deep at the mention of a potential wife for the immortal.