Dark Ghost (17 page)

She bit her lip. He really wasn’t very good at vampire hunting. Maybe he hadn’t been at it long, with his career change and all. He didn’t even carry holy water with him. Or stakes. Or a bible. She had seen her grandmother’s vampire-hunting kit, straight off the Internet, and in spite of the fact that, at the time, she thought her grandmother was absolutely bonkers, the old case with all the hunting tools inside was very cool. Surely if he really hunted vampires he’d have all kinds of weapons.

May I make a teensy observation?
She didn’t want to upset him, but he needed a little help.

I cannot wait.
 

That sounded a little sarcastic but she forged on.
If you had the proper gear, such as the stuff Grandma Trixie has, you wouldn’t have to get so close to that horrible creature and you wouldn’t get so torn up.

The only way to destroy a vampire is to remove his heart and incinerate it. Even if you chop off his head, he can repair himself. He is the undead.
 

She kept her eyes closed tight. She would have put her hands over her ears and sang
la la la
at the top of her lungs to keep from hearing him. Unfortunately, he was talking in her head, so that luxury was impossible and she had to keep her hands pressed to his chest to keep more blood from spilling out at such a high altitude.

Is that really true?
 

Yes.
 

Well. That was bad news for her grandmother. She’d been swindled on the Internet. So many people preyed on the elderly. She’d have to check into that and maybe find a way to put those people right out of business.

Andre landed lightly and ducked inside the cave, still holding her to his side. She didn’t open her eyes to see how the two of them managed to fit through the narrow entrance, because if she had any more surprises she was going to just scream. Hysterically. Scream at the top of her lungs. She needed to focus on healing him so he wouldn’t die.

“Andre.” She kept her eyes closed as he carried her through the various chambers. She was fairly certain they were headed back to the room where he had a bed. “You’re going to need a transfusion. Do you know your blood type? I might be able to donate my blood if we’re compatible.”

He paused at every entrance, just for a few moments, and she risked peeking. He seemed to be the one setting up shields, because right before he turned away, she saw notes and strings shimmering for one moment before they disappeared.

“We are compatible.”

He was still angry. She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Are you still angry with me? I’m saving your life. I sacrificed my shirt and I only have a couple, which necessitates going into town to buy more. And I need to find the stone to heal my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother is not in need of healing, although I am beginning to suspect you are.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, giving him her most fierce scowl. “That wasn’t nice. You can put me down anytime, Andre.”

He paused to weave another shield over the last entrance before his hidden chamber. Ignoring her squinty eyes and really mean scowl – the one that always made her nephews behave – he carried her right on through to his living quarters. Only then did he set her on her feet.

She kept her hands pressed tight to his chest. Deciding the best thing to do was ignore his bad mood – she was fairly certain she’d be grumpy if she had a hole the size of Texas in her chest – and take charge.

“Get over to the bed, Andre, and lie down. I can take a look at this and see what I need to do to fix you up.”

He looked down at her for a long time. He sighed. “I will heal my wounds as best I can and if you are willing, I gladly accept your offer of blood.”

“Of course I’m willing. We have to do this now, Andre.”

“I have sustained far worse wounds than these. His fist didn’t penetrate that far.”

He sounded as if he was running out of patience. And she was being as nice as possible under very horrendous and scary circumstances. She thought it best to point that out to him.

“Just so you know, I’m not my grandmother. I do
not
hunt vampires. In fact, I prefer to believe they are figments of the imagination. Or at least very bad nightmares. So if I’m not handling this situation to your satisfaction, I apologize.” She gave him another glare just to make certain he realized
she
was losing patience with him.

“I told you not to leave,” he said, and his voice went scary quiet. Soft. Scary soft.

If she didn’t have to press so hard into his bleeding chest with both hands she would have given an airy wave to dismiss his orders. As it was, she decided to be the bigger person. After all, he was bleeding to death right in front of her.

“Just because you’ve sustained worse wounds, doesn’t mean this one won’t kill you. Get on the bed, Andre. And I mean it.” She used her firmest I-mean-business voice.

A
ndre hissed at Teagan, a long, slow sound of sheer anger slipping out. His eyes turned glittery, and the temperature in the cave went up several degrees. He caught both her wrists and pulled them from his chest. Her sacrificial shirt dropped to the ground, bloody and ruined.

Teagan’s heart stuttered and she tried to take a step back from him. Distance would be a good thing. He was a big man and powerful. It didn’t matter that he was bleeding everywhere, he looked like an ancient warrior – one used to winning every battle.

“You’re scaring me, Andre.”

“The time to be afraid was when you left the safety of this cave against my wishes and dangled yourself as bait in front of a vampire.”

She moistened suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. How could he even stand up? She couldn’t help herself. As much as she wanted to know everything about vampires and hunters and the strange things he could do, she wanted to heal him. The compulsion grew in her the longer she looked at the rake marks on his face and the blood flowing from his chest.

“I
was
afraid,” she conceded. “I was afraid I was losing my mind. Please, Andre, let me help you. I’m not as good a healer as you, but if you don’t let me help, you’re not going to make it. You can’t sustain this kind of blood loss.”

He turned and went to the bed, taking her with him. He sank down on the edge, his thighs apart, and he pulled her down in front of him, seating her with her back to his front. “Sit still.”

He made it an order, and she winced, but at least he was sitting on the bed instead of standing like some crazy macho man, bleeding out right in front of her.

“I will heal my wounds and then I will need your blood. I will be weak and I need you to sit still and not fight me.”

She turned her head to scowl at him over her shoulder. “I
volunteered
to give you blood, Andre. And just an FYI, I bashed that vampire over his head in order to save you. I may have wanted to run away, but I didn’t.” She knew she sounded snippy, but
as if
. She was the one who pointed out he needed a transfusion, and she’d told him she would donate if they were compatible.

Andre wrapped both of his arms around her waist and drew her close. She was instantly aware of her bare skin. She’d almost forgotten she was in her bra and nothing else. She’d just have to pretend she was wearing a bathing suit. It wasn’t like she could jump him when he was so seriously wounded.

She huffed out her breath and turned back around. It was far too daunting to look into his eyes. She couldn’t see pain there, but she
felt
it beating at her. Both the healer and the empath in her needed to help him – needed to heal him. She couldn’t bear for him to be wounded one more moment.

Still, she had the feeling that he wanted her to experience this with him. He was still angry. She felt that as well, a kind of repressed fury smoldering just below the surface, and she wasn’t altogether certain why, but she wasn’t going to ask. She just wanted him to get on with however he was going to heal himself.

Teagan felt him push into her mind. It wasn’t subtle, the move was a powerful force, a thrust, taking him past every natural barrier and merging them together in one swift takeover. He felt predatory. Invasive at first. Scary. He poured into her, filling her. Finding her.
Seeing
her.

The swift invasion was both uncomfortable and yet sensual at the same time. He would know her every secret. Every thought. Everything. She couldn’t hide from him. Still, she’d been lonely all of her life. She’d been different and never fit anywhere. He filled those empty spaces with – him. With his strength and courage. He gave himself to her, opening his mind to her.

She found herself moving into him. Not as decisively as he had her; she was delicate about it, not wanting to give him the feeling of a takeover. She discovered that where she’d
felt
alone in the midst of her family and friends, Andre had
been
alone. There was a huge difference.

He had no one. Not a single person of his own. She really was that person to him. She poured herself into those lonely places, just as he had done for her. She felt him still. His hands tightened, nearly cutting off her breath, but she didn’t move. He needed this. He needed her, and she gave herself to him.

Heal yourself now, Andre. I want to be with you when you do.
 

She might never be able to do what he could, but she could share it with him, just like this. Mind-to-mind. It was far more intimate than she could ever imagine. She couldn’t lie to him. Or hide from him. She saw him just as he saw her. He had killed to protect others. She saw that. She accepted it. Andre’s integrity shone through every other thing about him.

She actually felt him shed his body. It was almost a glorious thing to feel him lose his ego, his more human and predatory senses, all sense of self, to become nothing but a pure white healing light. She felt his heat like a laser, moving through his body to find the hole in his chest. He repaired veins and arteries, removing the venom from the places where the vampire had clawed through his flesh. She hadn’t even known vampires had venom in the nasty, razor-sharp talons they called fingernails.

He was meticulous, taking his time, and she realized it took a great deal of energy to stay out of one’s body and do the kind of work that he was doing. She was so deeply connected to his mind, moving with him through his body that she could actually feel the repairs and “see” them, although it was much more of an internal visualization.

She could feel hunger clawing and raking at him, a brutal assault that tore through him worse than the pain of his wounds. Weakness. Weariness from too many battles. Too much death. She saw the gray, bleak world he’d occupied before she’d come to him and the one of color and passion after she’d arrived.

Her breath caught in her throat as she realized his skin was becoming smooth. Perfect. The black vampire blood that seemed to contain acid had been bathed away right there in the battlefield, when he’d incinerated the vampire and somehow controlled a lightning bolt.
He’d controlled a lightning bolt.
How freakin’ awesome was that? She’d tried not to think about it, in fact, she’d just buried it deep so she wouldn’t have to figure out how he did it, but even that wasn’t as awesome to her as the miracle taking place in his body right before her eyes.

The tattered remains of his shirt were gone, leaving his chest bare. She was up close, and she could see every torn muscle. The rake marks. The bites at his neck and shoulder, great gouges of flesh and muscle torn away. The worst was the fist-sized hole that had gone about an inch deep in his chest and looked to be positioned over his heart. Of course, he had those old circular scars she always wanted to touch – or kiss. Those felt so much a part of him, she couldn’t imagine his body without them.

There were four long furrows, extremely deep on his face, long rake marks torn with the horrendous talons the vampire had on his hands. One of the lacerations was very close to Andre’s left eye. Even as she stared at the wounds, they were closing.
Closing.
Right in front of her from the inside out. His healing abilities were insane, off the charts, his gift a true miracle.

As a healer, she’d seen things that shocked and amazed her. As an empath being merged so close with him, feeling his pain and hunger, seeing his life so empty, tears burned behind her eyes for him. Everything that she was, the very essence of her reached out to him. She poured herself into his mind in an effort to soothe him, to make his life better in some way.

Mostly she looked at his skin, now nearly perfect. There were no scars other than the older, circular ones. Not on his face. She could see faint lines there, where the wounds had been, but she knew those would fade with time. She couldn’t stop herself from turning completely around to face him so she could run her hand over the smooth muscles, feeling with the pads of her fingertips as if touching him would help her process how he had managed such a phenomenon.

It was the most powerful and beautiful thing she’d ever witnessed. She had no idea how much time passed, but she knew he was swaying with weariness. The blood loss was too great and he desperately needed a transfusion.

Teagan wanted to call him back to her, but she didn’t know if that could possibly damage him further so she remained silent, but stayed close in his mind. Almost abruptly he returned to his body, and for the first time she felt him shudder with both pain and exhaustion.

She smoothed her fingers gently over his face. He touched hers and his fingertips came away wet with tears.

“Andre.” His name came out breathy. She hadn’t wanted it to, it just did. “I’ve never been able to heal anyone in my life like that. You’re a gift, a precious gift to the world.”

Andre’s eyes went from pure glacial ice to electric blue. Intense. Beautiful. She could see the long lashes, lashes that should have made him look feminine, but there wasn’t one single feminine thing about him.

“Do not cry for me,
sivamet
. I have you now and all of it was worth the wait.” He murmured the words softly as he brought his finger to his mouth and tasted her tears.

“You need blood, Andre. I can feel how weak you are. We have to give you a transfusion.” One of them had to be practical. His sitting there looking gorgeous and hot with nearly perfect skin didn’t negate the fact that she could still feel his weakness and exhaustion. Blood loss would do that.

“I have dreamt of the taste of you,” he whispered softly.

She found herself shivering in anticipation. Of what, she wasn’t certain. He swept back her hair, pulling it from around one side of her neck to the other, so that the long ponytail of braids hung over her right shoulder. His touch, as his thumb slid over her skin was sensual. So was the way he moved her hair. Her heart jerked in anticipation. Of what, she had no idea, only that her body came alive at his touch.

He dipped his head. She felt his breath, warm against her skin. His tongue stroked once, twice, over the pulse beating so strongly in her neck. She had time for one swift inhale, the comprehension. She was in his mind. The terrible hunger. The craving for her unique taste. For the rich substance she could provide to help heal him. She made a single sound, started to lurch forward, knowing she couldn’t escape. His arms were two steel bands wrapped around her middle.

His teeth sank deep and she cried out at the bite of pain. Instantly it gave way to pure, erotic pleasure. She shared his mind and she felt his body heat. Harden. Need. For her – only for her. There was no other. There could be no other.

She felt her blood go into his body, spread through his starving cells to answer the terrible need. She tasted – exquisite. Perfect. His fingers splayed wide over the bare skin of her abdomen, rubbing gently as he fed. She relaxed into him, gave him more of herself, willingly allowed him to feed from her.

She knew he hadn’t put a compulsion on her, and she saw the memory of the first night with him, that first taking of her blood. She hadn’t remembered and yet she did, right then, that thrill, the same erotic feeling she had right now.

Teagan couldn’t help herself, she reached up to stroke the perfection of his face right where the vampire had torn the long lacerations, so deep they should have scarred. She’d wanted to smooth those faint lines away. She’d wanted to heal him. To be the one who could take away his pain.

You have done so already, avio päläfertiilam. Everything I have done these long centuries has been wiped out by the gift that is you.
 

He swept his tongue over the two small holes, closing them, and she murmured a protest, not wanting the sensation to end. His mouth continued to move on her neck, tiny kisses and stinging bites followed by his soothing tongue. He turned her easily, using his strength to set her on his lap.

She was deep in an erotic-filled daze, lulled by Andre’s sheer sensuality. She could barely think, feeling so connected to him. Having him in her mind. Being in his. Even the way he took her blood, she could accept that – accept him because he didn’t feel evil at all, not to mention it was the most sensual thing she’d ever experienced.

It was entirely possible that the erotic-filled daze was just Andre and the chemistry between them that seemed to be off the charts. She had nothing to compare him to, because he was the only one she felt anything for.

“It is your turn, Teagan,” he whispered. “You will take my blood.”

That managed to penetrate her sensual fog. She frowned, her eyes searching his for the meaning of that. Because no. He was hot. Gorgeous. Her body was singing and hot and needy, but…
you will take my blood
. Okay.
No.
No way. No
f-ing
way. That was not happening no matter how hot he was. No matter how sensual. Even if he was dying.

She took a leap right off his lap and got exactly nowhere. She didn’t move one inch. She planted both hands on his chest, right above where the terrible wound from the vampire had been and tried to shove him back on the bed, so he’d at least lose balance and she could escape.

“You will take my blood for our second exchange.”

Not only was there command in his voice, but she felt the subtle “push.” Her heart went wild. Her mouth went dry and she exploded into action, uncaring that he was injured or that he was hot and gorgeous.
Second time?
She’d taken his blood once already? And didn’t remember it? He’d kind of left that part out.

She tried for his eyes, and then his throat, but she found she couldn’t move. Not a single muscle. His eyes drifted over her face. There it was again. His anger. It was tangible. She felt his anger like a black cloud surrounding her with heat and if she hadn’t been completely locked down where she couldn’t even lift an arm, she would have gone still anyway.

“You have capabilities that few have,
sivamet
, and it has become clear to me that you are very headstrong. I cannot protect you during the daylight hours and you insist on leaving my side. There is no other path.”