“I know. You are going through the transition. The change. From your life to mine. Your body is getting rid of toxins and reshaping organs. I can take the edge off the pain, but I cannot bear it for you, as much as I would like.”
Her breath hissed out of her lungs. “I’m what?” She tried not to shout. Maybe she’d heard him wrong. Especially since he’d delivered the news in such a matter-of-fact voice, like she wasn’t convulsing and her bones nearly breaking into pieces. It hurt. It hurt so bad.
She didn’t want him looking at her. Witnessing this. She didn’t want to look at him, not when he was looking so remote. So removed. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t spare the energy. Another wave was coming. She felt it swell through her insides, cutting her like jagged glass. She tried to relax and breathe, just like Andre had told her, but it was impossible. Her lungs felt cut up, raw, burning with every breath she tried to take.
Her body contorted and bile rose. She knew she was going to get sick and she tried again to roll off the bed, to get away from Andre, to crawl out of her own skin and disappear. Andre caught her in his strong arms and took them both to the floor of the cave, away from their bed. As he wrapped her up in his arms, to keep her body from slamming hard on the floor, the wave receded.
Teagan glanced up at his face. Pure stone. A mask. His eyes glacier blue. Nothing but ice. A muscle ticked in his jaw. His hands were gentle. He murmured soothingly to her in his own language, but his body was rigid, just like his face.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked again, needing clarification. “Hurry. It’s going to come back.”
“It takes three full blood exchanges to bring another into our world. They must have a psychic gift in order for the conversion to be successful.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying that when this is done, I’m going to be like you? I’ll need blood to survive? The blood of others? I’ll have to sleep in the ground?”
Already the next wave was on her. This was far worse than the others, and she turned from him, vomiting, over and over, her body rejecting everything in her that was human. Her throat felt raw and bloody. Her skin didn’t feel right, and even her scalp hurt. The worst was her midsection. A blowtorch had been added to the jagged glass and razor blades slashing her up.
Andre knelt with her, holding her up, cleaning her mouth with a cool wet cloth. Somehow he managed to pin her thick braids to the top of her head, and get rid of the mess she’d just made. Still, she detested him.
You planned this, she accused. You did this to me.
You gave me no choice. I will never see you put yourself in such a dangerous position again.
You had no right.
I have every right. Not only is it my right, it is my duty to see to your protection.
She couldn’t even scream in frustration, not with her throat so raw. She could only push at the wall of his chest, rejecting him physically while trying to oust him out of her mind. He wouldn’t go. In fact, his arms tightened and he seemed to surround her, not so much with his body, although she could feel him close, but with his strength and power.
She was too weak to fight him. The next wave came, overtaking her before she was ready, the convulsions almost tearing her body out of his arms, but he held her safe from slamming to the floor. She didn’t want to be safe. She wanted to be alone.
Leave me, Andre. God. Why wouldn’t he just go?
When the pain eased enough for her to catch her breath, she looked up at his face. There was blood tracking down it. Drops of blood leaking from his eyes. She felt one splash on her sternum and run down the slope of her breast.
For the first time, she caught him looking upset. Not just upset. Devastated. The moment he realized her gaze was on his face, his features settled into a carved, stone mask.
You didn’t know.
He bent over her, just for a moment and she caught the sorrow, not in his eyes, but in his mind.
I should have researched before I subjected you to this. Not knowing is no excuse.
Not knowing wasn’t an excuse, but it was something. She could see he was holding himself together to try to help her get through. She even realized he was shouldering as much of the pain as possible.
The next wave was worse than the last one, jerking her body until it was stiff, contorting it and then slamming it toward the floor of the cave. Andre was there, cushioning her, surrounding her with his presence. She could hear him, far off, speaking in his language, his voice like velvet and silk.
Sleep now, Teagan. I will hold you close.
She’d asked for that, Andre holding her close. At first she’d wanted to just move away from him; now nothing mattered but escape. The blowtorch in her stomach was still there, but the intensity wasn’t the same.
Let go for me. Sleep now.
The command was stronger. She actually felt the “push” behind his sensual voice. Teagan obeyed him and let herself fall under whatever spell he’d conceived in order to stop her suffering.
14
Teagan became aware of a breeze first. Cooling. On her body. Her naked body. Next she became aware of Andre wrapped around her. Holding her tight against him. His arm was draped around her waist and his thigh was between hers. She lay still, trying to figure out if she’d had a terrible nightmare—which was understandable after the horrific memories from his childhood Andre had shown her. She’d also had an encounter with an honest to God vampire. That would give anyone nightmares.
She took stock of her surroundings. Yep. Still in the cave. She could see though—see as well as if it was broad daylight—and she was in a cave. She’d been able to see a bit before, enough that it worried her, but this was incredible. Someone might as well have turned the lights on. It should have been a good thing because it was very cool, but it wasn’t. It really, really wasn’t.