Tick, tick, tick.
Kill! an equally familiar male voice suddenly boomed. Deeper, harder.
Damn it. He had to find out who was speaking to him. Had to know. Had to, had to, had to. Life—and death—rested on his shoulders.
As he considered their identities, he thrashed, his hand connecting with something solid and warm.
He heard a gasp. For some reason, the female’s pain only increased his agitation. Must protect…
“Everything’s fine. You don’t have to worry,” she said, soothing him. “I’m here. You’re safe now.”
Jane, he thought, stilling. His Jane. Such a sweet voice, such a pretty face. Such a commanding personality, worthy of a queen. She was nearby.
Heal yourself…time…save…
Yes, he thought. With Jane nearby, he could do anything. Heal himself, and even replenish the store of power he’d burned through. He relaxed, willingly sinking back into oblivion. This time, he had a purpose.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JANE SPENT TWO DAYS gathering supplies and making weapons. She never strayed far from the unconscious Nicolai, just in case he needed her or they had unexpected visitors, so those supplies were limited. However, she managed to find fruits and nuts to eat, as well as small, thin twigs and mint leaves. Those, she’d turned into surprisingly efficient toothbrushes, which she used liberally on both of them.
Because they were near a stream, bathing her patient was easy. In fact, there’d probably never been two cleaner people trapped in the wilderness. Nicolai was no longer oiled, his skin was scrubbed to a healthy pink shine, and yet, the scent of sandalwood was stronger than ever. Every time she breathed him in, she tingled, her blood heating, her mouth watering.
It hadn’t helped that in bathing him, she’d had to run her hands all over him. As dirty as he’d been—cough, cough—she’d had to bathe him a lot. Those muscles…so hard, thickly roped and laced with sinew. That trail of hair from his navel to his penis…always tempting her to wickedness.
And God, she was shame spiraling.
Nicolai might desire her, but he didn’t need another woman lusting after him while he was helpless. What’s more, he didn’t need another grabby woman touching him without permission, and already Jane had pushed the boundaries of his trust by bathing him (so many times).
Hands off from now on, she decided. And one day, she’d apologize for her behavior. Maybe. She wasn’t sure she would sound sincere. Despite his past, she’d liked touching him. Bad Jane. But, well, he’d seemed to like being touched by her. He tossed and turned intermittently, only calming when she was within reach.
Sometimes he questioned a man who needed his help, sometimes he cursed Laila for the vile things she’d done to him, and sometimes he fought ugly monsters, his arms and legs flailing. After the latter two, he always vowed retribution. Painful, slow retribution.
Something he was fully capable of delivering now. The swelling in his wrists and ankles was gone, his thumbs having snapped back into place, his feet having realigned right before her eyes. Even the abrasions on his skin were gone. It was quite an amazing process to witness.
The vampires she had studied had healed quickly, as well, but not that quickly. Nor had they slept this long in a single stretch. She worried about him.
Did he need blood? He’d had so much at the palace, and overfeeding could cause as much damage as starvation. Perhaps more so, because overfeeding caused an insatiable need for more, more, more. Nothing else mattered ever again, and dead body after dead body was left in the wake.
She shouldn’t know that. She’d almost given herself and her knowledge away with the whole “bursting into flames” thing. And while she hated herself for having experimented on his brethren, she wished she’d done more, knew more. Anything to help Nicolai right now.
Jane sighed. She’d give him another day. And then what? she wondered.
She would have to construct some kind of hamper and drag him through the forest and into a town, find a healer and get him checked out. If there was a town other than Delfina nearby.
The problem—besides her lack of strength and direction—was her face. Her magical face. As Odette, she simply couldn’t lose herself in a crowd, as proven by the reaction of the people outside the palace. Word of her arrival might travel to Laila. Someone might attempt to capture Nicolai.
That someone would have to die by Jane’s hand, and she wasn’t quite ready to become a killer.
Another sigh slipped from her, this one weary. As a golden moon settled into a black velvet sky, she placed her handmade weapons—twigs sharpened on rocks until becoming daggers and spears—beside Nicolai. Then she lay next to him.
She’d washed her robe about an hour ago, the still-wet material now draped over a nearby tree limb. Except for her panties, she was naked. By necessity. Of course. So she wasn’t going to castigate herself over needing Nicolai’s warmth. Well, not too badly. The baths had been frivolous; spooning wasn’t.
Lying next to him provided a wealth of wondrous experiences. Peace, after so many months of fear and regret. Soul-deep contentment. Hope for a future she had once dreaded. He shouldn’t affect her this quickly and this strongly, even with magic.
After some thought, she’d realized magic could not change a person’s feelings. He had never welcomed his captors; and had they possessed the ability to force the issue, they would have.
Though she was exhausted, falling asleep proved difficult. Her back had scabbed, and those scabs pulled and reopened with her every movement. And her legs… Without her morning jogs and physical therapy, her legs were stiffening up more and more frequently, aching and throbbing. She could practically feel atrophy setting up camp in her muscles.
What she wouldn’t give for a handful of painkillers.
At least she didn’t have to dread the approach of the sun. Their very first night here, she’d constructed a big, leafy canopy above the small site. Nicolai had claimed he wouldn’t burst into flame with ultraviolet contact, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Granted, the sun here was muted, always shaded by clouds, and not nearly as hot as she’d experienced back home. But in her world, she had witnessed other vamps burning to ash. Maybe even one of his friends.
Stomach cramp. She wouldn’t let herself go there.
Also, the canopy offered them camouflage from the enemy, hiding them from prying eyes. As proud as she was of her efforts, they’d so far been unnecessary. Laila and her men had never even marched past.
Most likely they weren’t even looking for the escapee, the princess expecting Nicolai to walk himself straight back to her bed.
Bed. Exactly where Jane wanted Nicolai. A soft mattress underneath him, Jane on top of him, her nails digging into his chest as she balanced. A tantalizing rush of desire poured through her, and she moaned.
Nicolai was right beside her. He could wake up at any moment and realize what she yearned for. But…maybe another sex fantasy was in order. For his sake. After all, she had to be disturbing him, rolling around like this. And last time, she’d fallen asleep the moment she’d climaxed.
Yes, for Nicolai’s sake, she thought dazedly, inhibitions crumbling as she imagined the hard thrust of him inside her….
A LOW MOAN CAUSED NICOLAI to jolt upright.
Out of habit, he cataloged his surroundings in an instant. The moon was high, golden, the stars bright, winking from their scattered perches. Ghost trees swayed against a cool, sultry breeze. A river rushed along a pebbled bank.
His brows drew together with confusion. He was enveloped by the sweetest scent of passion…fading…and the ripe scent of pain…intensifying. Who was in—?