Dark Gold (7 page)

Marie shoved aside her own anxiety and nodded at Joshua. "Of course. Aidan is a miracle worker. He will make your sister well in no time." After settling the child down at the kitchen table with cookies and milk, she followed Aidan across the room, raising an eyebrow at the hunter, silently demanding an answer to her question.

"He did not turn her, but I am afraid I inadvertently may have. She was protecting the child, but I misunderstood. I thought she was going to kill him." He took two steps away from the housekeeper, then turned back to face her. "Marie? I see colors. You are wearing a blue-and-green dress. You look beautiful. And I feel again." He smiled at the woman. "I know I have never told you in all our years together, but I have great affection for you. I was so lost, I was unable to feel it before."

Marie's mouth formed a perfect O, and tears shimmered in her eyes. "Thank God, Aidan. At last it has happened. We hoped and prayed, and at last our prayers have been answered. This is tremendous news. Go now. Care for your woman, and we will see to all that is necessary here. I am certain this young man is very hungry and thirsty."

There was such joy on her face that Aidan felt it reflected in his heart. It was amazing to feel. To be able to feel. Without his mate, a Carpathian male lost all wants, needs, emotions after two hundred years. He lived in an abyss, void, and from that moment on he was at risk of turning vampire. The longer he survived, as the centuries passed, the Carpathian distanced himself more and more from his community and all it stood for. Only two things could save him from his empty, desperate fate. He could choose to meet the dawn and end his life", or a miracle might happen and he would find his lifemate.

A handful of very lucky Carpathian males had found the one they searched for. The Carpathian male was by nature a dark, dangerous predator, and he needed the balance of his other half. Needed to find the woman whose soul perfectly complemented his own. Two halves of the same whole, her light to his darkness. There was only one true lifemate for each male. The chemistry had to be just right. And Aidan had finally found his.

Now he moved through the house with his silent, fluid stride. Alexandria's weight was nothing to him. His lair was located far below the first story, a long underground chamber fully furnished with every luxury. He laid her carefully on the bed and stripped away the remnants of her suit. His breath caught in his throat. Her body was so youthful, her breasts full and firm, her skin beautiful. She had a narrow rib cage and a ridiculously small waist. Her hips were slim, almost like a boy's. Despite the fact that her face and limbs were covered in sores from long exposure to the pounding of salt water, Alexandria Houton might, after all, be a pretty woman.

He took great care to wash the salt from her skin and hair, then disposed of the damp quilt beneath her. She lay on the sheets, her long hair wrapped in a towel, her breathing labored but steady. She was severely dehydrated, and she needed more blood. While she was in an unconscious state, Aidan supplied her with more. Aside from her fragile state of health, he was certain her body still had to go through the rigors of the change. And it was very necessary to dilute the vampire's blood. It was easier to access her mind and make the repairs to her damaged body while she was unconscious. She stirred uncomfortably, moaning softly. Aidan began the soft, healing chant, centuries old, in the ancient tongue of his people, while he crushed herbs around the room.

Alexandria's long lashes fluttered, lifted. For a moment she thought she was in the middle of a bad dream. She hurt everywhere, her body bruised and battered. She looked around the unfamiliar room.

It was beautiful. Whoever owned this place had an eye for elegance and the money to indulge his tastes. Her fingers twisted in the sheet. She found she was too weak to move. "Joshua?" She called his name softly, her heart beginning to pound in alarm when she realized she was awake and not dreaming.

"He is safe." That voice again. She would recognize it anywhere. It was so beautiful, unearthly, like the voice of an angel speaking to her. Yet she knew the truth. This man was a vampire with supernatural powers. He was able to shapeshift, to kill without hesitation. He fed on the blood of humans. He could read minds and force others to do his bidding.

"Where is he?" She didn't bother to move. What would be the point? He clearly had the upper hand. She could only wait and see what he wanted.

"At this very moment he is eating a nutritious dinner prepared by my housekeeper. He is safe, Alexandria. No one in this house will ever harm that boy. On the contrary, every one of us would give our lives to protect him." His voice was so soft and gentle, she could feel the notes soothing her mind.

She closed her eyes, too tired to keep them open. "Who are you?"

"Aidan Savage. This is my home. I am a healer as well as a hunter."

"What are you planning to do with me?"

"I need to know how much blood the vampire forced you to accept. I imagine Yohenstria was quite stingy, wanting to keep you in a weakened state. You are very dehydrated, your eyes black and sunken, your lips cracked, your cells crying out for nourishment. Still, whatever blood he gave you is tainted, and your body is about to go through the conversion." Very gently he applied a soothing salve to her tortured lips.

His words penetrated her foggy brain. Blinking, Alexandria stared up at him, horrified. "What do you mean, conversion? I am going to be like you? Like him? I am to become one of you? Kill me, then. I don't want to be like you." Her throat was so raw, she couldn't speak above a hoarse whisper.

He shook his head. "You do not understand, and there is little time to teach you. Your mind is very strong, completely different from that of most humans. You are resistant to mind control. I want to help you through this. You will go through it, with or without my help, but it will better for you if you allow me to aid you."

She closed her eyes against his words. "My arm hurts."

"I expect it does. I expect most of your body hurts," he answered, his voice somehow penetrating her skin and reaching into her aching arm to touch the bone. A warm tingle started and begin to spread, easing the throbbing. "Your arm is broken, but I have begun repairs. The bone is in line, and the mending has started without trouble."

"I want Joshua."

"Joshua is just a little boy. He thinks you are ill with a virus. He does not need to be frightened and traumatized further. Do you not agree?"

"How do I know you're telling me the truth?" Alexandria asked tiredly. "Don't all vampires lie and deceive?"

"I am Carpathian. I am not yet vampire. I must know how much blood Yohenstria has given you." He spoke patiently, gently, his voice never changing inflection. "How many times did he exchange his blood with you?"

"You're very dangerous, aren't you?" She bit at her lower lip, then winced when she painfully scraped blisters and sores. "You have this way about you, making everyone want to do everything you say. You made the vampire believe you could defeat him, didn't you?" It hurt her to talk, but it was comforting that she could.

"I use the power of my voice," he acknowledged gravely. "Less wear and tear on the body when hunting vampires, although I have had my share of wounds." He touched her then, the lightest of caresses across her forehead. "Do you not remember your own story to young Joshua? I am the hunter, come to rescue my fair lady and her brother. Joshua recognized me as such. He told me so. Do you not find it a strange coincidence that you described me so accurately?"

Her mind refused to think about that, so she changed the subject. "Joshua saw the vampire kill Henry. He must be so frightened."

"He remembers Henry's death as a heart attack. To him, I am an old friend of the family. He thinks he called me to come and help you because of your illness. He believes you fell ill at the restaurant."

She studied his appearance. He was physically beautiful. His hair was rich and thick, waves of gold reaching past his wide shoulders. His eyes, a peculiar molten gold, intense and frightening, gazed back at her with the unblinking stare of a jungle cat. His lips were impossibly sensual. It was impossible to judge his age. She would have guessed he was somewhere in his thirties. "Why don't you erase
my
memories?"

A small, humorless smile curved his mouth, revealing strong, even, white teeth. "You are not so easy to handle,
piccola
. You are resistant to my direction. But we need to address what is happening to you."

Her heart began to pound. "What is happening to me?"

"We need to further dilute the tainted blood in your system."

Alexandria wanted to trust him. The smell of the herbs, the sound of his voice, his seeming honesty all made her want to believe he was trying to help her. And he didn't force her decision, or even attempt to rush her, though she sensed he was concerned that whatever was going to happen would happen before he was adequately prepared to deal with it. She took a deep breath. "How do we do that?"

"I must give you a large amount of my blood."

He said it quietly, matter-of-factly. Alexandria looked away. Those golden eyes of his never blinked. She was afraid if she stared into them too long, she would fall forever into their depths. "You will give me a transfusion?"

"I am sorry,
piccola
, that will not work." There was real regret in his voice. He touched her again, turning her chin so she would face him again. The feather-light stroke sent her heart pounding.

"I can't… I can't drink blood."

"I can put you under compulsion if you are willing for me to do so. It will aid you. It is our only chance, Alexandria."

The way he said her name sent butterflies winging through her stomach. But was it possible that drinking more blood was the only way to make her well?

"If it is impossible for you to drink of your own free will, you must consent to my aiding you," he said.

"I'm not sure I can do it." The very thought repulsed her. Her stomach was churning, already rebelling at the idea. "There must be another way to make me well. I don't think I can do it," she repeated.

"His blood is tainted, Alexandria. Even though he is dead, he can cause you much pain and suffering. We have to dilute it before you go through the transformation."

There was that word again—
transformation
. She shivered.

He reached behind him for an immaculately white silk shirt, clearly one of his own, and, his eyes holding hers, he gently put it on her, handling her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. They both pretended the act was impersonal, but there was something in his touch, some quality in his gaze that could only be described as possessive.

Exhausted, Alexandria tried to think. The vampire had been grotesque, and the thought of any part of him living in her bloodstream was terrifying. "All right. Do it." Her blue eyes met his golden gaze. "Put me under compulsion to get rid of the vampire in me. But nothing else. Don't take away or put anything else into my head. Nothing else. You have to give me your word on that." For whatever that would be worth.

He nodded. She was far too weak to sit up, so Aidan cradled her on his lap. She began to tremble, her heart pounding so hard, he was afraid it would shatter before he could heal her. Deliberately he reached behind her to braid her long hair, to soothe and distract her. Then he silently began a low chant in her mind, murmuring in the ancient tongue, bringing a measure of relief to her. She visibly relaxed.

"I want to command you to sleep through your conversion. It is quite brutal,
piccola
. I will wake you when it is over." His velvet voice made the suggestion, and she felt the notes wrapping around her like safe, warm arms, compelling her to do as he wished.

Instantly she pulled back, her mind slamming shut, turning away from him. She simply was not willing to be that vulnerable, to give up all control, even consciousness, to a stranger. Especially one capable of the things this man could do. What was he, after all? Possibly another vampire, despite the distinction he drew about being "Carpathian, not yet vampire," whatever that meant.

"I will assist you in diluting the vampire's tainted blood, Alexandria, nothing more, if that is your wish." He chose his words carefully. He had been in her mind several times already, and the bond was strengthening with each mental sharing. She was unaware of it as of yet, and for now it was better to keep it that way. He knew she was confused and mistakenly hoping that the conversion about to take place would restore her to human life. For now he would have to mildly deceive her in that regard to spare her the agony of the inevitable transformation, already begun, to Carpathian life.

Alexandria sighed. The feel of his hands in her hair, the soft whisper of his husky voice, the total confidence he exuded was mesmerizing. "Let's get it over with before I lose my nerve."

As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth, he shifted her slight weight, cradling her on his lap, and bent his blond head slowly to her throat. The touch of his mouth was like hot silk on her skin. She felt that wildly erotic touch right down to her toes.

Alexandria stiffened, suddenly afraid of losing far more than her life. His lips were on her throat, right over her pulse.
You have to trust me, piccola. Let yourself feel me in you. I am part of you. Reach for me now, as I reach for you
. The words seemed to be in her mind rather than spoken aloud. He was strength and heat, fire and ice. He was power and protection from the insanity engulfing her.

A white-hot heat pierced her throat, and then she felt an erotic intimacy so beautiful, it brought tears to her eyes. She had never felt so cherished, so beautiful, so perfect as she did at that moment. She felt him in her mind, exploring her secret thoughts and desires. He was soothing and healing her, tasting her, sharing her mind. He examined every memory, the strength of her block against him.

When he was certain he had taken enough of her blood to ensure a proper exchange, his tongue reluctantly stroked over the wound and closed it.