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doubt. She needed to shed her own skin, put aside her ego and her doubts, the frailties of self and become only pure energy, the essence of life, a spirit so light it could travel without flesh and bones.

She began to chant as well, the rhythmic words helping her concentrate and focus on her task. She felt the separation and, for a moment, panicked as she always did. She forced herself to push through her awareness of self and let go. She knew Vikirnoff was with her, a shadow in her mind. She wasn't certain if he was there for support, for aid should she need it, or because he feared she might try to kill him.

She found herself back in her own body. Faint color stole up her cheeks. She couldn't look at Slavica and admit failure. What did I do wrong?

Nothing. You became aware of my presence and allowed it to distract you. It happens with all healers attempting to enter someone else. Try again, Natalya. You seem to be a natural.

I've only done this to myself.

But with no training. No one showed you how, but you managed on your own. You must be a powerful healer as were all the Dragonseekers. I am staying with you to ensure your safety. If you wished me dead, you would not be attempting this.

The utter weariness in his voice became her strength and determination. She let her breath out slowly again and freed her mind and spirit from her body. She narrowed her awareness to Vikirnoff, to his broken, bleeding body, the terrible injuries wrought by a vampire, the most evil of all creatures.

It was necessary to stay out of his brain, ignore his memories and his thoughts. She found it was a struggle to separate herself from him. Somehow they were already intertwined and some instinctual, emotional and alien part of her feared his death. She took another steadying breath and once more concentrated on the chant. It was there for her, focusing her energy, drawing her into Vikirnoff's torn body so that she floated through him, pure white healing light.

The damage was tremendous. Worse than she ever expected and far beyond her healing accomplishments to date. She wondered at his ability to continue when he was so completely torn up inside. The deep claw marks down his back were mere scratches in

comparison to the damage done by Arturo.

Natalya began the meticulous work of healing from the inside out. After a time she became aware whenever she hesitated, it was Vikirnoff who directed her, helping her close off torn, jagged muscle and tissue, repairing the damaged organs and carefully removing infection and, in several spots, poison.

The volume of chanting increased as other Carpathians joined in from a distance, both male and female, their voices rising together to aid in healing one of their own, in spite of the sun climbing higher in the sky. If the work hadn't demanded all of her attention, the voices merging together would have made her nervous. She had never been in such close proximity to the Carpathian people and they were touching her mind, just as she was touching theirs.

She had no idea how much time passed before she finished with the repairs to Vikirnoff's chest, but by the time she pulled back into herself, her body was swaying with weariness. Slavica held a glass of water out to her. Natalya took it gratefully and drank it down in one gulp.

"How do you know how to do that?" she asked Vikirnoff. "I don't think a doctor could do what you just did."

If it were possible, Vikirnoff was even paler, his skin an alarming color of gray. Natalya gripped Slavica's arm. "Look at him. I made him worse."

"I don't think so," Slavica consoled. "He needs blood. We must find a way to give him blood." She took a deep breath. "I gave my blood once before to a Carpathian, although I don't remember what it felt like. I can give him mine."

The protest rising in Natalya was sharp and ugly. She forced herself away from the edge of danger. She flatly refused to make a fool of herself a second time. And she was not about to tell Slavica an exchange of blood with Vikirnoff was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced.

"I will supply him with blood," she said. The thought of touching him, tasting him so intimately was frightening. The more she wanted to run from him, it seemed the closer they

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