Selene

Tears started behind Selene’s eyelids. Her entire body was limp, drained: her heart was now thundering behind her ribs. Her entire body ached savagely, overstrained, but the ache just made the slick dampness between her legs worse. “N-n-no,” she whispered. “Never.” I never have.

The healer slid to the side and balanced on her knees on the bed, then moved slightly. Selene didn’t dare look. Velvet brushed Selene’s bare arm, then the healer lowered herself down and pulled the covers up, and took Selene in her arms. She was smooth and warm, soft, breasts and hips like Selene’s own pressing against the slick silk of the nightgown.

She’s naked. I don’t even know her. I never get to know them, the ones I have to feed the curse with.

“This might be difficult for you,” the healer said, quietly. “I don’t have to fight my gift. But a tantraiiken. . .it’s hard for you.”

Selene’s face pressed into the soft hollow under the healer’s chin. Marina’s fingers stroked her sweating back, the silk sticking to Selene’s skin. Violets, spice, musk, and the smell of female; Selene had rarely used a woman for this. Most women didn’t understand.

“Nikolai,” she heard herself say. “He’ll—”

The healer laughed. “He’ll what? Probably want to watch. Or join in.” Her fingers continued their slow, even massage, and Selene felt her body unstringing, muscles relaxing, the heat rising between her legs. The nightgown stuck and slid—she wanted it off.

“I need to take this thing off,” she found herself saying. “Please.”

“There’s a lacing on the back.” Incredibly, the healer giggled. Her body moved against Selene’s, Selene caught her breath. Warm flesh and the curves that were so like her own, a comfort in the middle of the minefield of need and desire.

The healer’s breathing was a little faster now, and she worked on the nightgown’s laces. “I feel like a teenager again,” she murmured, and Selene tentatively touched her hip, smoothing her fingers over satiny skin.

“Did you. . . while you were a teenager?” Christos knows I did. Selene’s throat was blocked. She felt weak, her hands limp and her legs heavy, but the fire demanded that she move, that she touch the woman, find out what would make her respond, what would feed the curse.

“I did my fair share of experimenting. I was raised by Nichtvren, the Prime of Altamira took me when I was five. It does give one a different view of sex.” There was laughter in her husky voice, covering a deep sadness in the well of her calm. Then the nightgown loosened. “There. I think that should do it. Help me, if you can, Selene. Lift your hips up—good. There. Now your arm.”

It was as if she was a child again, being dressed by someone else. Or undressed. Her head was clearing rapidly. Raised by Nichtvren? My God. “Nikolai tried to Turn me?”

Marina ran her hand down Selene’s ribs, her fingers leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The gasping, electric sense of Power that Nikolai carried was very different from this gentleness. “It was a consideration. Mostly, he just wanted to give you enough strength to survive. The healing properties of Nichtvren blood—” The healer kissed her cheek, her lips sliding against the sweat slicking Selene’s entire body. Then her hand slid between Selene’s legs. “Listen to me lecture. Don’t think about that now, just feed. You need it.” Two of her slender, tapered fingers slid into the aching, throbbing need. Marina’s thumb started a slow, even circling, and Selene’s entire body jerked.

Marina laughed. It was a beautiful, husky sound. “Sometimes it takes another woman,” she said, softly, breathlessly, and her eyes met Selene’s, half-closed with pleasure. It was as if she anticipated what Selene needed, her fingers moving a split-second before Selene even thought to ask.

The healer’s mouth met hers, a cool lipsticked kiss; Selene moaned, pleading. Marina’s thumb moved fractionally faster, paused, and scraped down hard over the sharp swollen throbbing point.

Selene’s body exploded. The first climax hit her, she half-screamed into Marina’s mouth and the healer’s delicious, wicked stroking went on. Power sparked and crackled between them, a violet glow instead of Nikolai’s hard gasflame blue.

“There. Isn’t that better?” Marina chuckled gently.

Selene found she had wound her fingers in Marina’s long hair and was kissing the taller woman’s chin and cheek and throat, frantically, pleading, making soft little noises in the back of her throat. Marina’s dark-blue eyes were half-closed, heavy-lidded. Does she look at Rigel that way? The thought drifted across Selene’s mind, she did her best to push it away.

She could feel another riptide of Power, but it was going in the opposite direction. The healer was feeding too, in a different way. A perfect match. She was raised by Nichtvren, what does she know? What was that like, for her?

The Power sparked, building, and her hips rocked forward. Marina kissed her again, a little harder, using her teeth to pull in Selene’s bottom lip and scrape across sensitive flesh.

It’s like kissing myself. The second climax slammed into her, nerves twisting and screaming. The need retreated more quickly than it ever had.

Marina slipped her fingers free with one last twist, making Selene shudder. “Now rest.” She slid her arms around Selene and held her close, breasts pressing together, the other woman’s nipples hard as her own, her flesh soft and blessedly human. Their legs tangled together. After a little bit of rearranging, Selene found her head on Marina’s shoulder, Marina’s arm around her, the healer’s dark hair tangled with her own blonde. The comfort made Selene drowsy, luxuriating in the absence of pain and the aftermath of a full feeding.

And she won’t use it against me. I feel safe. “When can I get up?”

“You’ll break my heart.” The healer yawned delicately. “After lunch, maybe. Your body’s well healed, between Nikolai’s blood and my talent, but you’ll still be weak and tired. I’d counsel you not to get shot in the back again anytime soon.”

“I’ll try to avoid it.” Raised by Nichtvren. No wonder she’s so easy with Nikolai. “What did Nikolai do to Rigel?”

“Hit him a few times.” The healer closed her eyes. “I refused to treat you until he stopped.”

“Why?” It’s none of my business. So why do I ask?

“Rigel bought me free from the Prime of Altamira. He bled to do it; he almost died. And he indentured himself to Nikolai for his aid in negotiating my freedom.” The healer stroked Selene’s forehead with her free hand. A quiet warmth wrapped around Selene’s entire body, her arms and legs weighted with lead. “Now rest, Selene. You’ll be all right.”

Selene was about to ask why Rigel had done that, but deep velvet blackness slid over her. She’s putting me to sleep. How had the healer staved off the Turn? Even an enzyme treatment only has a seventy percent chance of working once it’s reached a certain point. But she’s sedayeenen.

There, in the healer’s arms, Selene finally slept her first true restful sleep since Danny’s death.

***

“Nikolai won’t like this.” A slight English accent. Rigel’s voice.

“It’s all right.” Marina’s husky, soothing tones. Velvet moved, rustling. Why do they all dress so weird?

Selene opened her eyes. She still felt human.

She lay on her side, facing the room, and was greeted with the sight of Rigel tying the front laces of Marina’s dress. He did this with a look of pained concentration that made his dark severe face a little less harsh. The healer looked up at him, smiling, her dark hair mussed and her cheeks flushed. The blue of the room echoed the blue of her dress, and both shades suited her.

I should ask her so much, I bet she knows all sorts of little tidbits about sucktooths. Why is she not Turned? Oh, right, she’s a sedayeenen, and valuable.

“He really won’t like this.” Rigel bit his lower lip, finishing the laces. Marina reached up and took his hands in hers. Her hands were smaller than his, and paler, but Rigel froze and stared down at her face, still biting at his lip. Color flushed his dark cheeks. She held his hands, smiling, and Selene could almost taste the Power rising through the sedayeenen, sinking into the tall dark man. Rigel was a thrall, fast and deadly, but he seemed curiously vulnerable next to the self-possessed serenity of the healer.

“I find it very difficult to care,” the healer said.

Selene pushed herself upright, pulled the sheet up to her chest. “What won’t Nikolai like?”

Rigel actually flinched. Marina let go of his hands, lightly, and faced Selene. There was a fire in the fireplace, more open flame in a Nichtvren’s house.

Selene blinked. One of the velvet drapes was pulled aside, and afternoon sun slanted down into the room, making the wood glow and bringing out chestnut highlights in Marina’s tangled hair. The sedayeenen belonged here, in the middle of antiques and rich textures, graceful and slim.

“He won’t like that I didn’t allow you to Turn.” Marina moved away from Rigel, picked up a silver tray that lay on a table near the fireplace. “But he’ll understand. Rigel, can you find the clothes? I think Nik put them in the closet with the blue canvas bag.”

Selene’s heart gave a painful, twisting leap. The medallion was dull and cool against her skin. “The bag. And my purse. I need them both.”

Rigel didn’t even look at her. Instead, he looked at Marina’s tangled hair as she brought the tray to the bed. He seemed lost in thought, staring at the sedayeenen as she set it down on a pale baroque ashwood nightstand. “All right.” Marina took the cover off the tray. “The blue bag, and your purse. Meanwhile, you eat. Here, it’s broth, and good for you. The more you can eat human food, the better.”

Selene accepted a steaming blue pottery mug from the healer’s hands. A hunger-cramp seized her, and she crouched over, smelling the steam. Chicken broth. Of course. Cure for everything. A bitter, unwilling grin pulled up one corner of her mouth.

Marina smiled. “That’s a good girl," she said, and pushed a few stray curls of Selene’s hair back. “Drink it all.” Her blue eyes were dark and thoughtful. She half-turned, velvet sweeping the floor. Rigel still stood as if nailed to the floor, staring at her. “The bag, Rigel. If you don’t mind.” Patiently, as if she was used to his staring.

The tall dark man blinked, seemed to suddenly remember where he was. “Right. The bag. Clothes. Right.” He’d found another long black coat, and was fully armed. Selene saw knives strapped to his waist and the butt of a gun under his armpit as he pushed his dark hair back from his forehead. His lip was whole and his eyes weren’t bruised anymore. She must have healed him. Wish I could do something that useful. Instead, I’m the paranormal equivalent of a scarlet woman.

“Why didn’t you let me Turn?” She sipped at the broth. Her fingers felt cold and shaky, and the big muscles in her thighs felt limp as wet noodles. And the medallion—it lay under the silk of the sheet she’d wrapped around herself. It had never felt so still and cold. “He’ll be furious.”

“Amen to that,” Rigel muttered. The healer ignored him.

“Well, if you’d Turned, you would have been crippled. That’s my professional opinion, and I’ve seen enough Turns go wrong to know. It would have been too hard on you.” There was a restrained green porcelain teapot and two Japanese tea-bowls, Marina poured delicately. “Nik’s sensible. As long as you’re still alive and whole, he won’t be that difficult to deal with. The Prime of Altamira would be a different story.” Amazingly, the healer shuddered, a little of the color leaching out of her pretty cheeks. “Besides, you didn’t seem too enchanted with the notion. I hate to see a woman—especially a paranormal—forced into something like that.” She settled onto the bed, blue velvet pooling around her. With her long tangled hair and her cat-tilted eyes, she looked like a Pre-Raphaelite painting. Sunlight glowed through the room. “Rigel, what on earth are you doing?”

The tall man had stopped and was simply staring at her. Selene sipped at the mug, watching this. It hurt to see, right behind her breastbone. I’ll bet he watches her sleep, too.

Rigel blinked, for all the world as if just waking up. “Um. . .nothing much. The bag, and some clothes.”

“And her purse,” the sedayeenen supplied helpfully. “Please?”

He nodded. “Right-o, love.” He stalked over to a door painted with cherubs Selene hadn’t noticed before and pulled it open, revealing a closet. Marina sipped at her tea. Her eyes were on Rigel, a faint line between her dark eyebrows. Her cheeks were pale. Probably remembering Altamira.

What would make a sedayeenen go pale and shiver? It must have been horrible.

“Not a very good memory, that man. Mind like a sieve.” A faint smile touched her lips, a little color coming back into her cheeks. “So what are you planning, Selene?”

“What makes you think I’m planning anything?” Selene tried for a tone of blithe innocence and failed miserably. She hunched her bare shoulders and stared into the blue pottery cup. For being shot last night, I think I’m doing really well. Her skin roughened in instinctive response. I could have died. Nikolai tried to Turn me. He probably knows who had Danny killed. “Give my regards to Nikolai.” Bastard.

“Drink that, Selene. That bag—the blue one—stinks of darkness and Power. Something’s in there Nik either doesn’t sense or is waiting for you to tell him about.” The healer took another sip of tea and stared into her cup. “Either way, it’s trouble. I know your brother was killed, and that you’re hungry for revenge, and Nik stopped you.” Marina shrugged. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you might have some sort of plan.”

Rigel brought the blue canvas bag, and Selene’s black leather purse. He also brought Marina’s little black physician’s bag and a stack of clothing.

“I brought a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. They’re mine, so they’ll be a little big for you.” Marina’s eyes met hers. “There’s one of Rigel’s coats in the closet. I brought boots too, in the bag, I hope they fit. Don’t tell Nikolai, or both Rigel and I will be in hot water.” She set her cup down and stood up, gathering her velvet skirts. “As far as I know, I’ve tended you as best I can and left you to his thralls once you were out of danger.” The healer took a deep breath. “There’s a business card in the pocket of the jeans that marks you as a friend of mine. You might find it useful if you run across anyone who knows me, or owes me a favor. There are a few in the city—not as many as I’d like, but a few.”

“He’ll find out.” Rigel stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “They always do.”

Marina looked up at him and shrugged, combing her hair back with her fingers. “I hate to see a woman forced, Rigel.”

He nodded, his punk haircut falling forward into his face again. “He’ll know.”

She held her hands up, and he took them, pulling her to her feet. He didn’t step back, so she was close enough to hug him, but he simply looked down at the top of her head until she tilted her chin up, her face inches from his. Selene stared at them. Her heart twisted as if stabbed, a sharp pain in the center of her chest.

“Whatever he guesses,” the sedayeenen said very quietly, “I’ll not tell him anything. And neither will she.” Her chin came up a little more, and Selene saw her blue eyes flash.

“I won’t say anything,” she told them around the old familiar lump in her throat. Rigel still looked down into Marina’s face, ignoring Selene. “I promise. My word’s good.”

The healer nodded, but she still looked up into Rigel’s eyes. “I believe you, Selene. Thank you. And now I’ll take us out of your way, and you can do what you like.” She pushed at the tall man, who backed up slightly. It was disconcerting to see him staring at her, backing up without looking until she broke eye contact and glanced at Selene. Then he watched Marina’s profile. The look on his lean dark face was startling—hungry and intent all at once.

“Be careful, sister.” The sedayeenen looked grave and serious now. “There are things hunting now in Nikolai’s city that wouldn’t think twice about eating either of us. Be cautious.”

Selene nodded. “I’m good at going around unnoticed” she said. Rigel kept quiet, but his eyebrows rose slightly, and she glared at him. “I am.”

“You have three hours of daylight left.” Marina pushed at Rigel’s arm. “Come on, Limey, let’s go. You can talk us past Jorge and Tierney, I want to go get a cup of coffee at Lonbard’s.”

“A pleasure.” Rigel moved obediently in front of her, his black coat swinging with his long-legged strides.

At the door—it had been fixed, Selene saw, no longer splintered and jagged—Marina looked over her shoulder. The velvet of her dress glowed on the other side of the shaft of sunlight, just like a painting. Rigel was already out of sight. “Do you know what Nikolai wants?” Marina asked. “Really wants out of you?”

“Other than a good steady lay and rights to a rare piece of ass?” Selene downed the rest of the broth and grimaced. It burned all the way down. “I haven’t a clue. He said he’s twelve centuries old.”

“It’s more like thirteen, I guess.” Marina didn’t smile. “But he’s never, ever shown the kind of interest in anyone that he has for you. Strange, isn’t it?”

With that, she slipped out the door and shut it quietly.

Left alone, Selene looked down at the tray. There was a grilled-cheese sandwich—Danny, she thought, and her eyes filled with tears. She looked at it for a few minutes, left it where it was, and pushed the sheet away. The air was cool against her naked skin, and she could still smell Marina—violets and musk—in her own hair. Strangely enough, it was comforting.

Why couldn’t I have met someone like her ages ago?

It took only a few minutes to get dressed, and when she fetched Rigel’s black coat from the almost-empty closet she found one pocket was strangely heavy. She reached in tentatively—and her fingers touched cold metal.

They’d left her a gun. Or Rigel had—Marina wouldn’t like guns, being sedayeenen. How had the healer talked him into that? Of course, it looked like she could talk him into just about anything. Lucky girl.

She shrugged into the coat. It was ludicrously long on her, the cuffs falling forward over her hands like the silk dress had.

Selene shivered. The medallion was still icy-cold. It hadn’t warmed since she’d awakened. She yanked the socks on, and the boots—they were a little too tight. Her feet must be smaller than mine, she thought, and tasted the other woman’s mouth for a moment. If she’d met Marina before she’d met Nikolai. . .

Forget it. She looked toward the window. Nikolai’s the problem I have. He tried to Turn me, the bastard, and he probably got my brother killed too. Sunlight streamed through in a thick golden bar. She stepped into the warm light, settling Danny’s bag so the strap lay across her body and stuffing her purse inside the blue canvas. Let’s just concentrate on getting out of here. All I’ve got to do is escape his nest during daylight and figure out what to do next.

She looked out the window. A slope of manicured lawn fell away toward a hedge. Does Nikolai have dogs? Will they bite me? She unlatched the window and swung it open, wishing she had time to take a shower or visit the bathroom. But her skin crawled with the sudden need to be away from this place. The memory of the slow, awful, creeping fire of the Turn—and the spiky ice of the enzyme treatment, fighting for control of her body, Marina’s Power a tenuous bridge to reality—made the blood drain from her cheeks and her knees go weak. She swung her legs out through the window and jumped down. It wasn’t like Nikolai to put her in a room she could escape from. Unless he’d planned on me Turning, which would mean that I couldn’t escape during the day. Fucking bastard.

The first step was getting some money. You couldn’t run without cash.

She was full-up on Power, so the cold tide of terror didn’t make her wet and needy. But her breath caught and her hands shook as she closed the window from the outside. Her boots were crushing a thick spiny bush, and as soon as she moved, it sprang back up.

It was a nice sunny day, but clouds were scudding in from the west—from the sea. It’ll probably rain tonight. Crap. I’m going to have to climb a wall—and catch a cab.