It seemed an endless nightmare. He knew the moment when she tried to crawl across the floor in a blind attempt to escape her own body. He knew when she vomited blood, the tainted blood of the vampire. He felt her insides burning and rebelling against their mutations. Her internal organs were reshaping, renewing themselves, becoming different. Her cells—every muscle, tissue, every inch of her skin—were on fire with the transformation.
Where are you? You promised to help me. Where are you?
He had waited so long for the invitation, he thought he was hallucinating when it actually came. He hit the door with the flat of his hand and burst inside. Marie was kneeling, tears streaming down her face, trying in vain to hold the convulsing body.
Aidan nearly dragged Alexandria from Marie’s arms, cradling her protectively against his chest. “Go, Marie. I will help her.”
Marie’s eyes were eloquent with sympathy for Alexandria and anger and accusation for him. She twitched the hem of her skirt smartly and slammed the door hard as she left.
The moment the housekeeper was out of sight, Aidan put her out of his mind. His total attention centered on Alexandria. “Did you think I had deserted you, piccola? I did not. But I could not interfere if you did not wish me to do so. Remember? You made me promise.”
Alexandria turned her face away, humiliated that Aidan Savage would again see her so vulnerable, so disheveled. She didn’t have time to dwell on it though, because the next wave of heat was starting, clawing at her stomach and liver and kidneys, taking a blowtorch to her heart and lungs. Her cry echoed through the room, a wrenching scream of agony. She wished she would stop so she could breathe, but it went on and on. Tears streamed down her face.
Aidan thumbed away her tears, and his hand came away stained with blood. He breathed for her, for both of them.
Aidan’s hands were cool and soothing on her skin, his ancient chants centering her mind so that she had an anchor to cling to in an insane world. After a time Alexandria realized he was somehow taking part of the pain from her. He was there in her mind, shielding her from the terrible burning, from complete awareness of what was happening to her. Her mind seemed hazy, as if she was in a dream state. She forced her eyes open. She could see her own agony reflected in his eyes. There was a scarlet smear across his forehead.
When the terrible spasms let her loose from their grip to give her a few moments’ reprieve, she reached up and touched his face with wondering fingers. “I can’t believe you came back.” Her voice was husky, her throat swollen. “It hurts.”
“I know, Alexandria. I have taken the brunt of it, but I cannot do more at this time, and the poisoned blood you took in makes it so much worse.” He said it with honest regret, guilt, and humbleness, all powerful new emotions.
“How can you do what you’re doing?” Her tongue touched her dried lips, felt the terrible sores.
“We are connected now through the sharing of our blood. That is how I heard your call to me. It is how you feel me in your mind.” Once more he touched some soothing salve to her lips, one small relief he could provide.
“I’m so tired, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” If he could really read her mind, he would see she was telling the truth. He was rocking her back and forth, oblivious of her hideous condition, holding her as if she was the most precious, beautiful woman in the world. He was there in her mind, his arms keeping her sheltered next to his heart. It was soothing, comforting; it made her feel less alone. But even with his help, she could not stand another bout of this agony. She knew she couldn’t. And it was coming; already she could feel the heat beginning. Her fingers circled his arm; her blue eyes rose to meet his liquid gold gaze. “I really can’t.”
“Allow me to put you to sleep. Do not be afraid. It will merely be the unconscious state of humans, not the sleep of our kind. Your body must convert before I can put you into our truly healing sleep.” His velvet-soft voice was compelling and beautiful.