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.