Dark Demon (25 page)

Maxim's face twisted with fury. He blasted Natalya a second time, raining sharpened stalactites down on her head. Vikirnoff answered with an umbrella of ice.

He does not want you dead. He is stalling
. Anxiously he studied the hand stretching to the ice wall where Natalya stood. The rust colored fingers were already creeping up the side of the wall, reaching for her.
He is waiting for whatever the puddle bides to reach you. I am coming over to you
.

Wait! Don't move until I order the warriors. They will attack you
. Natalya couldn't quite catch her breath, even with Vikirnoff's steady breathing, her lungs burned and felt squeezed of all air. She had to figure out the pattern. "Hear me, fight at my side. Protect me from harm. Come to my side, protect me from harm."

The shadow warriors moved, tall and ethereal, cloaked in clouds of whirling gray smoke, ghosts really, insubstantial one moment and dressed in armor the next. They formed a lose circle around Natalya giving her a reprieve from Maxim's smoldering hatred. She kept her eyes on the patterns.
I've got it, Vikirnoff. I can open the floor
.

"Hold this circle, give no ground, battle that which is still, but cannot be bound." Natalya couldn't help the triumphant smirk she flung at the master vampire. "Be it vapor or foggy mist, hold it fast though it turns and twists."

Maxim roared with rage and raised his hands toward Natalya. The low ice wall Natalya stood on obeyed his shouted commands, shifting, sweeping through the circle of shadow warriors, brushing them aside as though they were feathers in the wind. Icicles spears hurtled toward Vikirnoff, the sharp ends spinning with flames straight toward his heart. Maxim leapt at Natalya so fast he was no more than a blur.

Already the shadow warriors were reforming their protective circle around Natalya and just feet from her, Maxim saw he had no chance to take possession of her. In midair he turned, choosing to kill Vikirnoff instead.

Vikirnoff picked an ice-spear from the air and used it to deflect the barrage coming at him.
On the ground, Natalya
! Before he could give any more warning to remind her of the creeping puddle of water, Maxim had landed behind him and reached for his throat with piercing talons. A sword slammed between them and the master vampire shrieked with rage, fingers falling to the floor of the ice cave. Even as Maxim turned to meet the attack, digits were already growing back. He caught the head of the shadow warrior and twisted sharply, flinging the warrior away from him and turning toward Vikirnoff.

Shadow warriors surrounded him. Maxim waved his hand and both he and Arturo were replicated over and over, a hundred clones whirling like madmen between the shadow warriors.

The rust-colored fingers reached Natalya, creeping up her boot in silence to circle her ankle. Vikirnoff sprang off the floor, using dizzying speed, vaulting over the ice floor crowded with fighting shadow warriors and vampires. For a moment bright, blinding light flashed in the cave as lightning forked, slamming into the wall just above his head, evidence that Maxim would not be defeated easily. Vikirnoff didn't hesitate or look back at his enemy. He caught Natalya in his arms and landed on the first squared pattern, the ice wall momentarily hiding them from the shadow warriors and the vampires.

"It burns," Natalya said, trying to reach for her ankle.

Vikirnoff held her hand away from the spreading stain. "Leave it," he said harshly. "Open the floor fast."

"It's burning into my skin." Natalya choked back another protest and concentrated on the pattern she had figured out already. She led the way, hopping from one square to the next, trying desperately to ignore what amounted to a bloody handprint wrapped around her ankle and burning through her clothes to her skin. "I can't leave my pack." She clutched it with both hands to keep from reaching down to her ankle. It was difficult to think when it felt like something was branding her flesh.

The ice walls exploded all around them, showering down large blocks of ice along with sharpened ice spears. Vikirnoff covered Natalya's head with his arms as they stepped over the squares, following the pattern in her mind. He shielded her body with his as he retaliated, the fire whip unfurling to send flames dancing over the vampires, driving them back. It passed through the shadow warriors who ignored the fiery lash, still fighting clones of the undead.

The floor beneath Natalya trembled and a large square slid away to reveal a stairway leading further beneath the earth. She hesitated.
We're going down not up. What if the Troll King is down there
?

We have no choice. This is the only way out of the chamber that we have left to us. We must take it
. He reached out to brush tears from her face with the pad of his thumb.

Natalya hadn't realized she was crying. The burning in her leg was bad, but it was more the idea that the unknown thing was attached to her. Just as Maxim had managed to slip inside her head. It was humiliating to think that the master vampire had gotten into her mind and Vikirnoff, not she, had driven him out. Now she had some parasite attaching itself to her body, boring into her flesh.

Turning back she gave her warriors a last command. "Hear my commands though I be gone. Continue to hold. Stand straight, stand strong." She gave the shadow warriors a small salute, wishing she could give them peace and send them back to their resting places.

"We have to go now," Vikirnoff urged.

She turned away from the chaotic scene and took the narrow stairs chiseled from ice leading below the chamber of the dark mage.

Vikirnoff followed her down, down deeper still, closing the hidden panel behind them and weaving safe-guards against the vampires in the event they found a way to escape the shadow warriors. Once the panel slammed shut an eerie light gleamed along the twisting stairway. It was carved with care, very narrow steps that seemed to go on forever.

They ran down the long staircase for several minutes. It was strangely silent as if they were the only two people in the world. "I don't think they can follow us using that escape route, do you?" Natalya asked, stopping abruptly.

"Not unless Maxim has hours to figure out the safeguards I used."

"Then get this thing off of my leg," Natalya said. "I can't stand knowing it's on me."

Vikirnoff nearly smiled at the demand in her voice. She was totally confident that he could and would get it off. "Sit down and rest. Let me take a look at it."

"Take your time, it's only burning a hole through my leg and grossing me out, but hey! Just look at it." Natalya scowled at him.

His dark eyes ran over her face and made her shiver. She bit her lip. "I'm sorry. When I'm scared I tend to be a little flippant."

"Do not apologize to me. I am well aware of your need to make light of the situation." He crouched beside her and took her leg in his hands, pushing the material away from her skin so that his fingers brushed intimately against her calf. "I am attempting to develop a sense of humor where you are concerned."

He bent his head to study the grotesque fingers circling her ankle. His dark hair spilled around his shoulders, wild and disheveled and far too appealing for her liking. His breath was warm on her skin. It was all Natalya could do not to reach out and touch his hair. His neck was a mess, the burn hideous and painful looking, yet he seemed detached from it as if the only importance to him was helping her.

"It's alive, isn't it?" She asked the question to distract herself. There would be no more kissing in the midst of
deadly peril
. She absolutely refused to be too stupid to live. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had a sinful mouth and that was the problem, not her. It was all Vikirnoff.

"Yes." His voice was grim, "This leaves the same scent as the one you named Troll King. I think this is his work."

She swallowed hard. "Xavier?" She would
not
call him grandfather. She didn't want to think he was related to her. She couldn't think about him without seeing him murdering her grandmother.

Vikirnoff frowned. "I do not think the dark mage. This one feels vampire yet not. I cannot tell yet what we are dealing with. I'll have to go inside to push the parasites out."

"Parasites? Are you telling me I have freakin' parasites in my leg? Get them out of me now. Right now. Hurry, Vik, or I'm going to lose my freakin' mind." Natalya shuddered, her skin suddenly feeling as if bugs were crawling all over her.

"I am uncertain just what
freakin'
is but it cannot be good." He thought it best not to mention the
Vik
. She really was distressed, her lower lip trembling and giving his heart a small shake-up.

"No, it isn't good and my butt is going numb with cold sitting on this block of ice." Oh, lord. She was complaining. Whining. Sitting there like a sissy when he was covered in blood and had his throat nearly torn out. The tigress had deserted her leaving her vulnerable and shaky. She covered her face with her hands too humiliated to face him. "Just please, please get them out of me."

He murmured something soft to her in his ancient language. It sounded tender and gentle and made her want to cry. She sat very still watching as he separated himself from his body, his spirit moving through her with warmth and a far too intimate touch. He did is so easily, not at all like her clumsy attempts. There was no fighting for focus or concentration, just a brief closing of his eyes and she knew his body was an empty shell.

She felt his presence the moment he was in her, touching her mind with reassurance and much more. He made certain not one shadow of the master vampire lingered behind, hidden and waiting to spring from the corners of her mind. He added more safeguards to keep her shields strong before moving through her to her leg. She felt his quiet confidence and she leaned heavily on it. Too many things had gone wrong and Natalya was no longer certain she could handle alone the task given to her. Just the revelations about her grandparents were enough to shake her to the very core of her existence. She tried to stay still, to appear as confident as Vikirnoff when she was really very distressed.

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."