Dark Curse (Dark #19)

Dark Curse (Dark #19) Page 17

Lara woke to a flood of erotic sensations. Nicolas lay on his side, his hot, hard body pressed against her, his hand cupping the underside of her breast while his mouth suckled, pulling strongly, teeth scraping while his tongue flicked against her nipple. He massaged her other breast, pulling and teasing her nipple into a hard peak. His mouth was rough and possessive, claiming her body, branding her forever his.

Another strong pull of his mouth sent arousal spreading in a heated rush from breasts to toes. She felt his arms, strong and protective around her, a safe haven when his mouth was so demanding. His thigh wedged in between hers, giving him access to the welcoming haven between her legs. His hand slipped down her stomach to caress the damp folds.

I want to wake up to you forever-just like this.

His voice slid against her mind, over and into, a gentle thrust much like his hips made, pushing his heavy erection against her thigh. She felt the push of his fingers, the stretch and glide, creating a slick heat that sent waves of pleasure rocketing through her. All the while his mouth stayed busy, lapping at the tight bud of her nipple.

Desire for his touch, his mouth and hands, his hard body, ran deep, rushing through her like a drug. Gentleness gave way to aggression as he feasted on her, his teeth and mouth and tongue claiming her breasts for his own. All the while his fingers moved over her and into her, one moment deep, the next shallow, until she was pushing into his hand, and her body was flushed with heat.

He slid down her body.His . His own personal playground. Her skin was hot satin, her sheath, living silk, and he wanted to know every inch of her. He kissed and licked and bit his way to her thighs, then pulled her restless legs apart to reveal the ultimate treasure. She was already wet and swollen with need, too beautiful to resist. He lay between her thighs and, cupping her bottom, pulled her to his mouth.

Nicolas ran his tongue over her folds, lapping at the moisture there, then straightened his tongue, stabbed deep and used his teeth to rake at the little sensitive bud peaking at him. She screamed and writhed, trying to use her heels to dig in to the mattress and push her body out from under him, but he pinned her there and feasted. She tasted like a spring meadow under a full moon and he wanted all of her.

His large hands kneaded her bottom, the pads of his fingers catching the warm cream and massaging it into her body and exploring every shadow and hollow while he lapped at her like a great cat. His tongue took long, deep strokes, then stiffened and plunged over and over until she was panting, twisting, begging him for release. He watched her with hooded eyes, darkened with lust, soft with love, paying attention to every detail of her reaction. When her breath hitched, when she arched up, and her hips bucked. He felt her muscles contract and bunch in her stomach, felt the ripple of arousal through her thighs.

His body matched hers heat for heat, flame for flame. He loved the dazed look on her face, the whirling green-blue of her eyes sliding to opaque. The rose flush to her body and the tight buds of her nipples. Every gasp. Every moan. It all heightened his raw hunger.

He stabbed at her sensitive bud with his stiff tongue, flicking and teasing before using the edge of his teeth. She gave a broken cry, thrashed and caught a fistful of his hair. He responded by sucking and then using a circular motion with the flat of his tongue. When he thrust two fingers into her she gasped, her orgasm washing over her, giving him another rush of warm honey.

Lara went limp, panting, watching him with that dazed expression. Nicolas smiled and crawled up her body, rubbing his tight balls and the thick length of his shaft over her belly and breasts, leaving a pearly trail behind.

He knelt over her, his knees on either side of her shoulders, leaning forward to brace himself on one hand. He guided his shaft to her mouth, his gaze on her lips as her tongue slid out and touched the velvet tip, licking at the pearl drops like a kitten licking cream. He rubbed the broad head over her lips. Her lashes fluttered, her breasts rose and fell.

"Open your mouth."

Lara was certain he was too big to accommodate, but he didn't give her a chance to protest. The

moment her lips parted, he slipped inside and threw back his head, eyes closing as if in ecstasy. It was that expression of rapture that made her want to learn, to follow the images and instructions in his mind. She wanted this for him, wanted the heat and fire and the loss of control, and she wanted to be the one to give it to him.

She experimented with technique, getting used to the feel and size of him, the texture and musky scent. She ran her tongue up and down his thick shaft, teased and nibbled at the underside of the flared head. When his breath rushed out of his lungs, she knew she was making headway. She flicked her tongue in much the same way he had until he jerked in her mouth. She tried a small suction and was rewarded with his gasp of pleasure.

You like that?

He swore softly in his native language.I need that. Harder. Deeper . Nicolas couldn't believe that was his voice, the commands really nothing but throaty growls.

Lara complied, wrapping her lips around him, taking him deeper until he was engulfed in hot, moist velvet. His hips bucked. His hand went to her hair, tangling in the red-blond silk while she cupped and stroked his balls with one hand and wrapped the other around the thick base of his shaft. Her lashes fanned her cheeks, her lips a sexy pout as she took him deep and flattened her tongue to draw him out.

Her breath hitched and he felt the warmth fan over him as he thrust deeper, her mouth, hot and wet sliding over his shaft, consuming him. He didn't let her get away with pulling back, forcing her out of her comfort zone again, pushing deeper, breathing for both of them.

I want to feel your throat squeezing all around me. Take me deeper.

I cant. But she wanted to. She was desperate to take him deeper. She felt every wave of pleasure rolling over him and reveled in her ability to bring him the kind of pleasure he gave her. She was just a little intimidated by his size.

You will, because if you don't I won't live another two minutes. He thrust down into her mouth, felt her throat squeeze around him, tight and wet and so wonderful he nearly lost his mind. Her mouth slid up and down him, and then she licked and sucked on his sac before swallowing him again.

As her throat closed around him, he took control, rising a little, shifting his angle so he could thrust, taking her breath, watching her eyes go wide. Even her trepidation as he slid deeper sent flames rolling in his belly.

I can't.

You will. Relax. Breathe. Feel me, Lara. Feel what you re doing to me.

He opened his mind to her, sharing the hot slide, the clamp of her throat, the stroke of her tongue on his sensitized flesh. He reared back, using the silk of her hair and his knees to keep her in place while he began to move.

She followed the instructions he bit out through bared teeth. The harder she sucked and used the flat of her tongue, and the edge of her teeth, the wilder and more aggressive he became, but she couldn't stop-didn't want to stop even though a part of her was nervous. She felt him grow thicker and she tried to pull away. He held her, the seductive whisper moving in her mind, telling her exactly what he needed

from her.

Nicolas suddenly withdrew, moving off of her. She cried out, reaching for him. He flipped her over and with one strong arm around her waist, lifted her, dragging her to her knees, pressing his shaft tightly against the curve of her buttocks. He licked his way down her spine, teasing the firm globes and tasting heat and spice down her very center. She gasped, unsure what he intended, but he held her submissively in front of him, forcing her to wait while he took his time, exploring her body, the body that was his to love, to worship, to play with.

Keeping one hand on the nape of her neck, he held her down, thrusting the broad head of his erection against her soft, wet entrance. She gasped and rocked back. He held her firmly, stopping when she tried to impale herself. He waited until she remained still and pushed deeper through the tight folds, inch by inch, filling and stretching her while her heart beat with his and the air moved through her lungs in rhythm with his.

Her muscles were tight and hot, a fiery inferno encasing him in silk. He caught her hips in his hands and thrust hard, burying himself so deep his balls met her bottom with a slap of sensitive flesh and he nearly howled with pleasure. He began to ride her, a hard, rough ride, slamming home, deliberately going as deep and as hard as possible with each stroke, taking her breath, not giving her time to do anything but rock back with sobbing breaths.

Her breasts swayed with every hard, pounding thrust and he leaned forward, angling his body to get a different position, to go even deeper. Her muscles clamped tighter and tighter, and suddenly fire raced over him as her orgasm took her, but he didn't slow down, didn't let her catch her breath, driving her right back up the pinnacle as hard and fast as he could.

Again. It was a demand, a growl rumbling in his throat. He gripped her hair and pulled her head back, leaning toward her shoulder, his teeth lengthening. All the while his hips pounded with real urgency, pushing her up and up, building the tension until she screamed, the lightning streaking from groin to belly to breasts, ripping through her like a tidal wave.

He moved again, turning her, lifting her, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could feel the slide of her breasts on his chest, so he could take her mouth with his, so that he could drop her down over the hard, rigid length of him and hear her scream with pleasure.

Tet vigyazam. I love you. He couldn't say the words out loud. They didn't seem to be enough to express what he felt inside.

He slowed the pace, savoring the tightness of her channel, the slick heat surrounding him and the way she gave herself so completely to him. He tipped her backward until she was lying half across the bed and he was kneeling, hips surging, never wanting the moment to end. Her eyes were glazing over when he caught her hips and drove desperately into the very core of her again and again.

His jaw ached as his teeth lengthened, his shaft was so hard he was afraid it would burst, but he couldn't stop. He was nearly at the point of no return. His teeth ached. His body ached. Every cell demanded he take her blood. He couldn't quiet the roar in his mind, or the thunder in his ears. He bent over her slowly, letting her get used to being pinned down by his larger, heavier body. He couldn't stop the deep thrusting of his hips, savoring the milking of her tight muscles over his pulsing flesh.

He looked into her eyes, let her see his intent. He kissed her breast, nuzzled her nipple and felt her body's instinctive rush of heat. His heartbeat was tuned to the rhythm of hers and he could feel her pulse

beckoning-seducing beneath his tongue. He tasted her soft skin. Warm satin, the feel of her as addicting as her scent. He bit very gently right along the swell of her breast, the smallest of nips and felt her heart flutter. Felt her sheath pulse around his shaft, felt the hot flood of glorious cream bathing him with her need.

He nipped a second time, a little harder, breaking the skin this time. The taste of her burst into his mouth and flooded his system so that he thickened, his erection growing heavier. Her muscles reacted, clamping down around him like a vise, holding him to her.

Say yes, Lara. Tell me yes.

His tongue lapped at the little sting. His hips took a long, slow, leisurely stroke, going deep and hard, pressing down on her sensitive bud so that as he raked over her, she shuddered with pleasure and arched into him.

He never asked if he could have her body, he took her over and over in any way he chose, driving her to bliss with his insatiable appetite, but he asked permission to do the one thing so natural to him she could feel the need beating and clawing at him.

His lips feathered over her pulse, teeth sinking a little deeper. She cried out, arching her back, her hips bucking hard, sheath clamping down again. Heat rushed through her, flames licked at her skin.

Please, she whispered.

He surged forward, another long stroke that nearly drove her over the edge, but he stopped with the walls of tight muscles pulsing all around him and her keening cry.

Please what?

Do it now while I am so desperate for you. Because it was all part of the erotic pleasure and she was desperate. Every part of her ached for this, this connection, the completeness between them.

Nicolas sank his teeth deep, thrust into her mind and body, all simultaneously, sharing his joy, heightening her pleasure, giving her everything he was and ever would be. Her taste burst through him like fireworks, hot and addicting and so perfect he knew he'd never get enough of her blood or her body. He was careful to keep her body at a fever pitch, to not allow her mind to hold any thought but pleasure and he didn't linger, although he wanted to.

He took enough for a true blood exchange, sliding his tongue over the curve of her breast to close the pinpricks even as he shifted again to lock his arm around her hips and begin another wild ride. He thrust faster and harder, watching her face, watching her eyes go, seeing that dazed look of delight, the sexy pout to her mouth as she gave a husky scream when her orgasm tore through her. Her tight sheath clamped down hard, squeezing and milking and tearing his own orgasm from him. He poured his seed into her, his hoarse cry mingling with hers.

With her body rippling around his, he caught her and rolled to his side, bringing her head into the cradle of his arm.Now, Lara, finish it. He didn't ask. It was a demand, dark and filled with lust, with desperate hunger.

Lara couldn't have resisted if she wanted to. The waves of pleasure rocked her, took her from breasts to belly to feminine channel and back again. The call of his blood was loud, the taste of his essence already

burning the back of her throat. She licked over his pulse and bit down, sinking her teeth into his chest.

His hips slammed into her hard, lifting her body, the bite of pain stimulating him even more. She closed her eyes and drank him in, taking him into her veins, her heart, every cell in her body, while he pumped in and out of her tight sheath. His taste was as primal as he was. A blend of dominance and heat, male and the night. She would forever crave him. It took a great deal of self-control to seal the pinpricks, but she was rewarded instantly.

Her orgasm hit her hard, driving the breath from her body and constricting her muscles tightly around Nicolas. He roared, clamping his hands on her hips while her body locked down unexpectedly on his shaft, tearing hot jets of semen from him. The climax continued, a brutal hot release that tore through his body, so that he plunged into her tight depths repeatedly, flooding her with his seed.

When he could move, he rolled them over so she could pillow her head on his chest. His arm circled her possessively, one hand cupping the underside of her breast. It took a few minutes for his burning lungs to manage to get air. "I want to stay here forever with you, Lara."

She managed a smile. "We might have to."

His thumb brushed the soft underside of her breast, back and forth. "I love your skin."

She ran her hand down his chest to his belly. "I love yours." She stretched her neck to nibble on his chin.

"Thank you."

Her gaze shifted away from his. "You know what I have to do, don't you?"

She was going to avoid talking about making a blood exchange. Nicolas hesitated, unsure whether to force the issue, but then followed her lead. She needed to come to terms in her own way. Because she had managed to let him take her blood this one time, didn't mean it would be easy the next time-or even that she could. He accepted that in her, just as he accepted his own peculiar quirks, formed from a lifetime of experiences.

"We have to do it together," Nicolas corrected. "You lured the entity, for lack of a better word, to the surface and Natalya was able to get it out of Savannah, but it was much easier with me there, wasn't it? Admit it."

Lara nuzzled his chest with her chin. "Yes. I don't mind admitting it. It seems a bit of a daunting task to check every single woman and Francesca said it would have to be done. She plans to try to journey with me so she can learn Xavier's touch in order to help."

He rubbed his palm up and down her narrow rib cage, savoring the feel of her soft skin, the movement more absent-minded than voluntary. "I do not understand how these things got into the women. Are there more than one?"

She frowned. "It doesn't appear so, at least not in Raven or Savannah. Extremophiles can be very aggressive about defending their territory and basically that's what these mutated microbes are."

"So once they're gone, everything is back to normal? It seems too fast."

"I think it is too fast. How did the organism get there in the first place? Whatever the source is, we

haven't found it. I overheard Shea talking to Francesca right before we left. She thought there was a good possibility it was transferred from male to female and that they live in the soil first."

"She is wrong about the males," Nicolas said, his hand stilling on her breast. "And they better not think you are taking journeys through every male."

Her body felt so warm beside his, fit so perfectly and when she laughed, that soft melodic sound, teasing at his senses, he felt absolutely content-right-complete. He had always known he was highly intelligent, that he'd been gifted to be fast with natural hunting instincts, but finding her had made him a better person.

"What about you? If you are infected, then I would become infected as well."

He swore beneath his breath, a time-honoredo kod belso ¨Cdarkness take it! The husky male timbre combined with the words made her smile, and she leaned upward to kiss his jaw.

He cupped her breast, his thumb sliding over her nipple. "I did not even consider that."

"I think all Carpathians have to consider it."

There was a small silence. "Would you check?"

She frowned and rolled over, pressing her soft breasts into his chest so that his body reacted with a shudder of awareness. "If a single microbe first enters the male body and then is passed to the female, it would leave the male's body open as a host for a second microbe. As long as one resides in the woman, the second would stay in the male. But if Raven or Savannah, who are now without a microbe, have sex with their partners, and Mikhail and Gregori are infected, then they would be reinfected. This could be a very vicious circle, Nicolas." Especially if she was the only person able to detect the extremophile.

Nicolas sat up, pulling her with him. Her face was pale, dark circles under her eyes. She wasn't eating anymore, not even broth. And he read her mind. What if she couldn't detect the microbes once she was fully Carpathian? Natalya couldn't seem to do it on her own and she had been part mage. That would leave the entire weight of a dying species falling directly on Lara's shoulders.

"I don't understand how this happened, Nicolas. I just got up one evening and decided The Carpathian Mountains was the next area I was going to search for the ice cave, mostly because of the gaps in the memories of those I spoke with about the ice caves. Now I've got you and all this responsibility I never dreamed of. But I'm afraid for us. I'm afraid to look inside of me and see a microbe. I'm afraid to look inside of you." She framed his face with her hands, coming up on her knees beside him. "I want children and I don't want them to suffer like that, or to ever believe they weren't wanted."

He leaned forward and took her mouth, his kiss gentle, pouring as much reassurance into it as he could. "They will know they are wanted,fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso ."

She loved the way he whispered "beloved." The Carpathian phrase had music to it, a tenderness that shook her each time he said it to her. It was always more than just the word, but the true meaning behind that word as well. His overwhelming emotion for her. And she believed him.

Because he made her believe a man like him could love her and accept her, even damaged from the trauma of her childhood, she found the strength to hunt for the microbe, to see for herself if either was infected-and only she was. The one inside of her was newly there, and hadn't had time to establish

itself. Her body was still treating it as an intruder. So that meant either the men weren't infected, and Shea's theory was incorrect, or that because she had only recently gotten together with Nicolas, he had passed her the microbe and had not yet been exposed to reinfection.

"You didn't sleep in the soil, Nicolas, You stayed on the bed with me."

"We need to go talk to Francesca and Gregori about this," Nicolas said.

She would never feel comfortable around Gregori with his strange-colored eyes, but she nodded. She had to journey into the other pregnant women this evening and hopefully Francesca would be able to follow the faint trail of the killer to aid in removing the microbes from all the other women. And she wanted the one in her out-this rising.

Lara felt drained when she came out of the healing cave with Nicolas at her side. She had aided two other pregnant women and also led the microbe within her to the surface for Natalya to destroy. They had experimented, taking both Natalya and Francesca along, but Francesca, try as she might, could not detect that faint, tainted path, and something in Natalya served as a warning to the extremophile and it successfully hid its presence from them, ruling out the possibility of Natalya tracking them.

A microbe was found in Mikhail and one in Gregori. Shea was excited that she might actually be on the right track at last to solving the problem of miscarriage. She, Gregori and a man Lara had never met named Gary, retreated together to try to explore ideas on how to combat the microbe.

Nicolas walked through the village with her. She wanted to visit Gerald and check on Terry while he and Vikirnoff finally searched for another entrance to the ice cave.

"I will not be gone long," he assured.

"And you won't go in without me," she added, giving him a quick, warning look.

At the bottom of the steps leading to the inn, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "No, I told you I wouldn't. You look pale, though. If you can manage to get some broth down, do so. If not, Lara, we cannot wait much longer to convert you."

She moistened her lips. "I have avoidance issues, I think. When I don't want to think about something, I just put it out of my mind and pretend it will go away. I like being mage. I rely on being mage."

"Mage blood aids in casting and learning, but Carpathian blood does as well. Our two species were intertwined for centuries, Lara. Xavier came up with the safeguards, but in the end Carpathians improved on them. Mages had longevity, so did lycanthrope, but even mortal wounds could sometimes be healed by Carpathians, leading others to believe our species is immortal. But we can be killed."

She tilted her head, facing her worst fear. "And that's what all the experiments on Razvan are about, aren't they? It's the reason Xavier has kept him alive. He's trying to find a way to kill Carpathians."

Nicolas held her close to him. "I am afraid of that, yes."

"Then if there is a chance he's alive, Nicolas, we have to find the evidence in the ice caves. I owe him that."

He tipped her face up and kissed her gently. "I will only be gone a couple of hours. Stay in the inn with the innkeeper and wait for me."

Lara nodded and with reluctance, left his side, stepping onto the first stair. Standing there in the dark, she watched him go-a tall, handsome man striding down the walkway, long coat swirling around his legs, his silky hair flying behind him-and her heart hammered out a rhythm of love.

He shimmered, his formidable physique nearly transparent and then he was gone, swallowed up by the darkness. She stood there listening to the night, hearing so many things she hadn't heard before. She saw differently, and the night took on a special beauty. She enjoyed just standing there, drinking it in, the solitude, the peace, with the murmur of life going on behind the scenes.

A few minutes later, Lara pushed open the door to the inn and slipped inside. It was warm and cozy, the open beams giving the inn a sense of space, the fireplace giving the room a homey feel. Slavica, the innkeeper, greeted her with a smile.

"I was hoping to see you. How are you?"

Lara was aware that few villagers were aware of the Carpathian people. Of course there were rumors, old legends whispered around a fire at night, but few modern people believed the old tales. She had heard that Mikhail Dubrinsky and the innkeeper's family went back years, but she didn't want to make the mistake of drawing too much attention to herself. She smiled and nodded. "I wanted to check on my friends. Have they been down at all?"

Slavica shook her head. "I called them to see if they wanted me to bring them food, but they refused, so I've left them alone."

"Neither, of them has been down to eat? Not even Gerald?" Lara frowned. Both men normally had hearty appetites. "Did Gregori check on them?"

"Early last night, your friend Nicolas came and then much later Gregori stopped by. He knocked, but they were already asleep. He told me he'd be back some time this evening."

"Did you ask them if they wanted food tonight?"

"Each meal we've asked and they've declined."

Lara was very uneasy with Slavica's answer. Terry might not feel like having food, but Gerald should be starving. "I'm going to check on them." She crossed to the stairs and began to climb, Slavica keeping pace.

"Would you like me to go with you?"

Lara bit down on her bottom lip. Her apprehension grew.Nicolas? I'm here at the inn, but when I asked Slavica about Terry and Gerald she said . . . What could she say? They'd refused a couple of meals. It was very possible Gerald would turn down one meal, but three? More than three?

Wait for me. I am not far from you and I will come back.

She felt silly standing at the top of the stairs facing the hall with the innkeeper looking at her as if she

wasn't quite bright.

"What's wrong?" Slavica asked.

"Nothing. I think I forgot my key." Color rose as she told the ridiculous lie. She rubbed her palm over her left side, down low. The spot burned a little.

"Won't they let you in if you knock?" Slavica asked, moving briskly down the hall toward the door.

Lara dragged her feet. "Maybe I'll wait for Nicolas. He was going to stop by and Terry and Gerald will want to see him."

Slavica started to turn back toward her, but stopped abruptly, wrinkling her nose. "What is that terrible smell?"

A cold finger of fear raced down Lara's spine. "Slavica, come away from there," she said softly. Her side burned hotter, that small telltale dragon that warned her when the taint of evil was close. She held out her hand, lowering her voice even more. "Hurry. Right now."

Slavica reacted to the urgency in her voice, not stopping to ask questions, but hurrying back toward Lara. Lara caught her arm and yanked, an instinctive, primal gesture, nearly throwing the innkeeper onto the top of the stairs. It saved Slavica's life.

The door splintered outward, shooting spears of sharpened wood into the hall where Slavica had been standing. Gerald emerged, his face twisted into a grotesque mask. Blood tracked like tears from his eyes and trickled from his nose and mouth. He tore at his chest with his fingernails, gouging trails of flesh in madness.

Horrified, Lara stepped in front of Slavica. "Get downstairs. Don't let your other guests up here. He's infected."

He was deranged. The madness in his eyes told her that. He looked around him with a blank stare until he spotted them-spotted her. At first she thought he recognized her, but then he sniffed the air like a dog.

She reached to her belt to find the comforting hilt of her knife with trembling fingers. "Go, Slavica. I don't know if I can stop him."

Gerald growled and hissed, his eyes glowing red-hot. He turned toward her, stumbled and raked his fingers along the wall, gouging huge chunks of wood from the polished surface. Her heart jumped.

Nicolas. Now would be a great time for you to show up. You know all that crap about women fighting vampires? I'm on your side.

This was her friend. She didn't want him dead. She wanted him fixed. When Terry had ripped out the snake's head, blood had splashed all over the car. Gerald must have had an open wound somewhere and parasites had entered. She hadn't thought to have the healer check him, she'd been so disoriented from that long-forgotten foul stench. The odor permeated Gerald. The infection had spread rapidly or...

Her stomach lurched. She moistened her lips. "Gerald? Where's Terry?"

Gerald lumbered toward her, his steps jerky and plodding. His head tilted to one side, a cunning, animalistic expression crossed his face. "Worthless traitor," he hissed.

Spittle sprayed into the hall and she couldn't help but follow the droplets with her gaze, fearing the tiny parasites would be strewn all over the floors and the entire inn would be infected. She had visions of zombies breaking through walls and eating people.

Slavica caught her arm and tugged, slowly backing down the stairs. Lara didn't want to be on the staircase, but she didn't have a lot of fighting room.

Gerald wrinkled his nose and sniffed the air more. Growls emerged from his throat, a rumbling challenge. The dragon mark burned hotter. She gripped the knife.

"Gerald!" She said his name sharply, trying to find the man inside the beast.

He blinked rapidly, tilting his head to one side, his body tensing. She gripped the knife harder and set herself on the balls of her feet. She couldn't let him get downstairs where many of Slavica's guests had gathered for dinner or drinks.

Gerald suddenly moved, lightning fast, a blur of preternatural speed that scared the hell out of her. She leapt to the side, over the banister and onto the landing, barely escaping his slashing claws. Slavica nearly fell backward down the stairs, stumbling and then recovering, back-pedaling as fast as she could to get out of reach.

Screams broke out below them as guests looked up to see a wild-haired man covered in blood lunging at the two women. Two of the men rushed up the stairs to try to help.

"Stay back!" Lara called out, terrified someone else would be infected. "Gerald, who am I? Try to remember who I am and who you are."

They'd been colleagues and friends for several years, had gone caving together in some of the most dangerous caves in the world, relying on one another and forming a family of sorts.

"Gerald." Maybe if she said his name enough times, it would jog his memory.

He has no memory. Get out of there. The parasites have consumed his brain. I mean it, Lara, get away from him.

Nicolas strode up the stairs, waving a hand to calm the group below, blurring the scene so no one could quite see what happened. He had scanned Gerald and Terry the moment he set foot in the inn. Terry was dead and Gerald was the walking dead.

"Don't kill him," Lara pleaded. "There has to be a way to save him."

Nicolas caught her around the waist and shoved her behind him. "He's already dead, Lara, and he's programmed to find and kill you."

Gerald sniffed the air again, looking confused with Nicolas blocking access to Lara.

"He's my friend. You can't know that."

"He's not your friend. Go now. Wait for me outside."

"But..." She couldn't just walk away and give up. "This is my fault. I should have checked on them."

Hands dropped to her shoulders. Startled, she swung around, the knife in her fist. Gregori shook his hand and took the weapon. "Let us handle this, little sister. The fault does not lie with you. I should have checked him."

Lara backed down the stairs. The Carpathian males had a difficult time detecting the parasites, but she should have scented the taint of Xavier. Sheshould have sensed it, but she'd been too busy feeling sorry for herself. She wiped at the tears streaming down her face. She hadn't achieved any of her goals since her arrival. She'd only managed to get her friends killed. She hadn't recovered the aunts. Their bodies were still locked away in the labyrinth of horror where Xavier had ruled.

She couldn't leave, couldn't look away. She owed it to Gerald to be with him, to stay while they destroyed the mass of parasites eating him from the inside out. Nicolas turned his head slightly to glance over his shoulder at her. She saw his long hair swing out and then-nothing at all. They were gone.

She stood staring up the staircase, one hand pressed to her mouth, trying to push back the sobs welling up. She'd lost her friend. Both of them. Lara backed away from the stairs into the lobby. Gregori and Nicolas could deal with the memories of Slavica's guests. She needed air fast. And she was going to the caves with or without Nicolas. She was going to find the bodies of her aunts and bring them home.

The cold air hit her face and it was only then she realized she was outside with Slavica standing beside her, a look of concern in her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

Lara ducked her head. "None of us had any family, so we kind of hung together. And we shared a love of caving. I can't believe this happened."Nicolas, is Terry dead ?

I am sorry, fel ku kuuluaak sivam belso. Gerald killed him. We have to insure that all the parasites are destroyed.

Lightning arced across the sky, zigzagged and lit up the clouds in a fiery display before slamming down to earth. For a half-second the inn lit up and then everything went dark again. Lara stood beside Slavica with an occasional snowflake drifting past her.

"You aren't terrified by all this," she said to the innkeeper.

Slavica shrugged. "Life can be frightening if you dwell on things you can't control. I choose not to be afraid if I can help it. Mikhail will see that my guests are safe, or at least as safe as we can keep them when the undead walks the night. Most outsiders think it is superstition when we caution them, but locals know such things walk among us."

"I wish I'd been more careful. I should have been more careful."

She didn't realize she was weeping until Nicolas turned her into his arms and pressed her face against his chest. She caught a glimpse of Gregori before she closed her eyes and let herself cry for the loss of her two friends.

"The inn is no longer contaminated and there is no evidence of any problem, Slavica," Gregori said. "Your guests will not remember anything took place."

Slavica nodded and went back inside, leaving Lara clinging to Nicolas.

Nicolas stroked his hand down her hair. "I'm sorry, Lara. I should have checked your other friend."

Gregori added his own apology.

Lara lifted her head and looked up at Nicolas. "I can find a new entrance to the caves. I want to go now-tonight. I need to go, Nicolas."

He nodded. "Then we will go tonight."

"You cannot," Gregori protested. "You have a higher purpose."

She lifted her chin at him. "I came here for one purpose and that was to find my aunts, and I'm going to do it, with or without help. I've tried to help Francesca learn how to recognize Xavier's touch..."

"But she's unable to do so," Gregori pointed out.

Nicolas dropped his arm around Lara's shoulders. "She needs to do this and she has more than done her duty to our people, Gregori. In any case, what we find there may be invaluable. If Lara can recognize the source, we can stop our women from miscarrying for good."

Gregori sighed. "There is truth in that."

"She goes," Nicolas stated.