nearly burned her skin. A mouth crushed hers under it. The tunnel was gone and she was left freezing, shivering uncontrollably, her body icy, so cold her insides felt like shards of icicles that could shatter at any second.
It took a moment to realize Tariq held her tight against his body. His arms surrounded her and his head was down so that he could whisper in her ear, reassuring her, talking so softly she didn’t think she would understand the words. It took a moment to realize she couldn’t yet hear him because part of her was still in the cold, dark past.
Her legs barely held her up and she burrowed closer to the heat of Tariq’s body. Clinging, when she wasn’t a woman to cling. Crying when she wasn’t a woman to do that anywhere someone could see. She couldn’t stop the terrible tremors or the continuous shivering any more than she could the tears.
Tariq wrapped Charlotte in his arms, holding her close, her ear over his heart, while it pounded with fear for her. He realized when he waited for her to return that somehow she actually managed to go back into the past when she touched an object. He knew astral projection was possible, but to actually go to a specific place in the past and hear and feel what was happening around her was far too dangerous. He’d never heard of astral projection taking one’s spirit to the past.
Instinctively he knew she shouldn’t interact with those from the memory she had accessed. The longer she remained in the memory, the more withdrawn and cold her body had become. Her skin felt like ice and she was barely breathing until it had reached the point where he felt desperately terrified for her. When he’d caught her by her arms and forced her head up, her eyes were blank, and that had been the last straw.
“I should never have put you through that.” Allowed her to put herself in such a position. He was asking this woman, the one woman, his miracle, to join him in a world that would be terrifying for her. He’d spent lifetimes in it. Centuries. Taking blood to survive, sleeping in the ground, hunting the vampire, all of that was familiar to him. Not one single aspect of his world was comfortable to a woman raised in the modern world. Not. One. Single. Thing.
She didn’t move, just took the shelter and comfort he offered, her hands fisting in his shirt. “You had to know. I had to know. The enormity of this . . .” She broke off, drew a ragged breath into her lungs and held on tighter. “It’s so unreal. You’ve lived with this knowledge, that you could become—that—a monster like no other.”
Tariq’s heart stuttered at the sound of her voice. Soft. Distressed. In tears but trying to hide them. Her body trembled against his, shivering continuously, probably without her knowledge. Stroking a caress through her silky hair, he cupped the back of her head and held her to him.
“Coming into my world means dealing with vampires and their puppets. With their cruelty.” He hated that for her. Hated that he needed her so much he knew he was going to bring her into his world no matter what. No matter that she deserved different—a good man who would worship the ground she walked on. The thought of it set his teeth on edge. He tightened his hold on her. He’d lived with honor for centuries. In his world, the male was born imprinted with the ritual binding words that tied his lifemate to him for all time. It was done. No reversing it. No going back.
“I’m sorry for that, sielamet. I’m not sorry that I found you, or that I claimed you, but I am sorry that you have had to see and feel the things you have.”
“It made no difference to them if it was a child or a woman or a man.” Charlotte continued to whisper, as if saying anything too loud, admitting vampires existed, made them all the more real to her. “Fridrick murdered my brother and Genevieve’s grandmother.”
“I know,” he answered just as softly. He looked around him, up at the crumbling ceiling of the tunnel. “I’m sorry.” Meaning it. Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to separate him from his world. He was solidly in it, regardless of the trappings of humans. The club. His clothes. The way he deliberately lived among them.
Charlotte’s body stiffened,