Naura (10 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

Tony’s entire body vibrated with heated energy. He’d never felt anything so powerful in all his life.

He tried to pull back, but Naura held on to him with a strength that surprised him.

“Naura. Stop,” he gasped, his gaze darting around the room.

Warmth suddenly exploded inside his brain. His back bowed and his teeth locked together as it slid down his skull and into his chest as if heated water had been poured through him.

Naura’s body went slack, and her fangs slid from his neck. He caught her head before it dropped to the table.

“Holy shit. Naura? Naura, honey, are you all right?”

Tony rolled from the table and staggered toward the door. “Get Zaureth in here now,” he growled at the Bracadyte keeping watch in the hall.

“Right away.” The guard ran off without an inquiry of unnecessary questions, for which Tony was grateful.

Rushing back to Naura’s side, Tony stopped next to the bed and brushed her hair back from her face. Her skin appeared pale and cold to the touch. “Damn it, Naura. What did you do?”

Zaureth marched into the room. “Tell me what has happened.”

“While I was giving her blood, she said her feet were tingling, and then all hell broke loose. Some kind of strange energy started coming from her. It was almost like heated electricity, if that makes sense. I could see her memories…”

“I have only witnessed her do that once before in her youth,” Zaureth hesitantly explained. “It is a gift that very few Bracadytes have ever possessed.”

Tony cleared his throat. “What kind of gift?”

Zaureth studied him for long moments before answering. “The gift of healing.”

“But you’re a healer, aren’t you?”

Zaureth tilted his head in affirmation. “That, I am. Only not in the same sense as her. Naura has the ability to pull one’s sickness into herself, replacing it with her own life force.”

Tony felt numb. “What happens to the sickness that she absorbs?”

“It eats away at her as would your human cancer. If she absorbs a physical illness, her body takes the ailment into itself. If it a sickness of the mind, the affliction is then transferred into her psyche to be housed until she can overcome it… If she is strong enough.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony snarled, storming toward Zaureth. He gripped the healer’s arms. “Fix her, damn it.”

“I am sorry. I cannot.”

Tony had to force his teeth apart to speak so great was his rage. “You will help her, or so help me God.”

“Your God will not assist you in this, Anthony Vaughn. It is your cross to bear.”

“Then tell me what to do to make her better. I’ll do anything.” And he would, Tony realized, staring into Zaureth’s eerily pale eyes. He would give up his own life if it would save Naura’s.

“You can do nothing but what she accepts.”

Tony released the death grip he had on the Bracadyte’s arms. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Your soul had a blackness in it that most could never survive. I could see it swirling around inside you, eating away at your conscious, corrupting your mind. That sickness now occupies another.” He glanced at Naura’s still form for emphasis.

Nausea rolled through Tony’s gut. He staggered over to a bucket and rested his hands on his knees as what little food he’d been able to consume earlier came back up.

When Tony could dry heave no longer, he straightened and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “There has to be something that I can do. She will never make it back from my memories. The things I’ve seen… The things I’ve done.”

Zaureth offered Tony a cup of water, which he readily drank.

“I will leave you now, Anthony Vaughn. There is nothing more I can do here. Take Naura to her room and make her as comfortable as you can. It is your sickness that resides in her. Only you will know how to rid her of it.”

The strange Bracadyte left without another word.

Tony gently turned Naura over, removed the sheet covering her, and scooped her nude body up into his arms.

Holding her high against his chest, he kissed her forehead, grabbed a towel to drape over her for modesty, and stumbled from the infirmary toward her apartment.

He would make her better if it was the last thing he did, he silently swore as he strode down the hall. Even if it killed him.

A few minutes later, Naura’s apartment came into view. Tony breezed through the foyer into her bedroom and laid her gently onto the bed.

He pulled a blanket over her to hide her nakedness from anyone that might enter. Specifically Braum.

After making sure that she rested, he hurried from the room in search of food. She would surely be hungry when she awoke. And she
would
awaken, he vowed, coming to a stop in front of Abbie’s door.

“Hauke? Abbie?” Tony bellowed from the opening.

Abbie appeared with her finger to her lips for quiet. “You’ll wake the baby.”

“I need food for Naura.” He realized that he had no idea what Bracadytes ate. “Whatever you think she would like.”

“She is better then?”

Tony debated on how much to divulge to his niece. He decided to be truthful.

Ten minutes later, he sat on a stool in Abbie’s kitchen and watched her expression as he finished explaining what had happened between Naura and him.

“She healed you? But from what?” Abbie stood at a giant makeshift stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious.

Tony shook his head. “I don’t rightly know.” But he did. And if the look in Abbie’s eyes was any indication, she did as well.

“I see.” Abbie poured the amazing-smelling soup into a bowl and grabbed a spoon. “She loves you, Uncle Tony.”

Tony’s heart squeezed. “She can’t love me, Abbie. She barely knows me.”

“My guess is she knows you better than anyone ever has. The Bracadytes have the ability to see inside a person. To know their innermost thoughts and feelings. But I’m sure that you’re more than aware.”

He was. And from the exchange he’d had with Naura in the infirmary, it was clear she knew things about him that he’d long since forgotten. “Abbie…”

“I know what you’re thinking, Uncle Tony. Truly, I do. It’s a scary thing to have another being so deep inside your psyche that you feel like you connected with their soul. But it can be a beautiful experience if you’ll accept it for what it is.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “What is it?”

“A mating.” She turned and strode out the door without waiting for his response.

“Bloody hell,” Tony muttered, jumping from the stool and running after his whimsical niece. “A damn mating.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Naura screamed in terror as the blonde-haired woman begged for her life, for the life of her child. To no avail.

The torture continued endlessly. The wailing, the blood melding together in a nightmare of anguish and grief.

Blessed silence eventually arrived in a relief born of exhaustion, but the darkness refused to recede.

Naura had never experienced anything as black as the darkness she floated in. It soaked through her skin, penetrating her body in an inky blackness that terrified her.

She clawed at it in an attempt to escape its suffocating madness, but it kept coming, inching forward and filling her lungs with its thickness.

Someone touched her. Tony’s voice called out to her from a great distance, filled with sadness and fear.

She tried to reach out to him, but the heavy darkness held her back.

Why was he here? He shouldn’t be near her. The black substance was lurking about, seeking something to devour.

Abbie’s voice echoed in the night. “All we can do is wait. Keep touching her, trying to reach her. She’s in there somewhere. I hope.”

The finality of Abbie’s words frightened Naura, but that was nothing compared to the terror seeping from Tony’s mind. The oily film of horror seemed to feed off his fear, his anxiety, pressing down onto Naura’s chest in a blanket of doom that soaked up her life force and slowed her pulse to a crawl.

This had been Tony’s burden, Naura thought, slipping deeper into the abyss. And no matter what damage it did to her, at least he would be free…

* * * *

Doug Jefferies stared through the glass above the operating room at St. Mathews General Hospital, watching with bated breath as Bruce Ortega attempted to save the life of Doctor Henry Sutherland.

“Think he’ll make it?” Glenn Anderson asked from his place next to him.

Jefferies’s jaw tensed. “He better, or else the president will have someone’s ass.”

Glenn nodded. “In Ned’s defense, it was dark down there. I probably would have done the same in his position. I mean, with the aliens on the loose, carrying poison in those fins they have.”

“They’re barbs, not fins. And no amount of excuses will stop Rueben’s wrath if Sutherland dies.”

Bruce Ortega held up his hands and backed away from the operating table before lowering his mask and leaving the room.

Doug turned from the glass and jogged down the stairs to the surgical entrance. He met Ortega at the double doors. “Well?”

The doctor removed his gloves, tossed them into a designated can, and turned on the water to wash his hands. “He survived the surgery, but the prognosis isn’t good.”

“What does that mean?” Doug persisted, stepping in close to read Ortega’s facial expressions.

“It means that he lost a lot of blood and the spear pierced several of his organs, including one of his lungs, causing internal bleeding. I repaired what I could, but if he makes it through the night, I’ll be surprised.”

“Damn it,” Jefferies swore, resting his hands on his hips. “When can I see him?”

Ortega narrowed his eyes. “You can’t. He’s being moved to ICU once he’s out of recovery. He is not to be disturbed for any reason.”

“But—”

“No buts. He’s in a medically induced coma. No amount of coaxing is going to wake him until he’s taken off the drugs. It’s his only chance at survival.”

Doug spun on his heel, leaving Ortega standing at the sink. He needed to call the president and notify him of Sutherland’s condition, which was basically
dead
in Jefferies opinion.

“I’ve been bitten,” a woman yelled, running up the hall, holding her arm against her chest. Blood stained her scrubs and dripped onto the floor.

Ortega suddenly appeared with his hands held out on front of him. “Whoa. It’s okay, Nancy. Calm down and let me have a look at it.”

The nurse’s eyes were wild, and the color was gone from her face.

Tears filled her eyes as she held up the wound for Bruce to assess. “A contaminated patient bit me.”

Bruce met Jefferies’s stare over the top of her head. “Maybe we caught it in time. Let’s get you down to quarantine and clean this up.”

“But I can’t stay in quarantine, Doctor Ortega. I have kids at home.”

Jefferies silently cursed as he backed toward the exit. In this moment, he blamed the CDC as much as he blamed the aliens. Someone needed to stop the madness before it ruined more innocent lives.

* * * *

Hauke returned home with Vaulcron in tow. There had been no sign of Abbie’s sire other than the traces of human blood detected in the water.

How was Hauke going to break the news to his mate? Or the king for that matter? If Henry died trying to escape, Abbie would be devastated. If he’d survived only to be captured by the land walkers, the king would be livid.

Klause had a right to be livid, Hauke grimly thought, climbing from the Pool of Life. It would mean a terrible war for Aukrabah and all who resided within it.

“Many lives will be lost if Henry is found, my brother,” Vaulcron pointed out as he snagged a towel from a shelf in the wall and dried himself off.

Hauke agreed. “I am aware. I cannot in good faith say that I hope he made it out of the water alive, as that would mean he is in the hands of our enemy. And yet, if he did not survive the deep, my mate’s heart will hurt. I would do anything to prevent her from experiencing pain.”

“I understand. Your wife has a kindness that surpasses the other surface dwellers’ we have come in contact with—as does her beauty.”

Vaulcron stopped drying his hair and shot his brother a grin. “Aside from the reporter of the news. She is captivating.”

Hauke chuckled and playfully punched Vaulcron’s shoulder. “What is this? My older brother has his sights on a human?”

“Of course not,” Vaulcron scoffed, tossing the now wet towel in a woven basket by the entrance. “I merely pointed out that she possessed a certain…um, beauty that I was drawn to.”

Hauke continued to grin. “I see.”

“Besides, according to your mate’s uncle, this reporter is known as the Great White Shark, due to her ruthlessness.”

“You have battled sharks before and come out on top. Perhaps this one is no different.” Hauke laughed and wandered off toward the main hall.

Vaulcron caught up with him in a few quick strides. “True. But the sharks I felled did not have eyes the color of the sea and hair brighter than the moonstones.”

“Oh, brother. You truly are smitten.”