The fourth blood exchange, converting Alexandria, would also keep her chained to him forever. Selfish though it might be to make that decision without her consent, she was, after all, his only salvation. He had held on for so many centuries, awaiting his lifemate, avoiding turning vampire himself. And, consenting or not, she wasmeant to be his lifemate, not Yohenstria’s; all the signs, and their perfect chemistry, confirmed that. And at least he had done what he could to give Alexandria as much of his own powerful, ancient blood as he could to dilute the vampire’s taint and make her transformation to Carpathian easier.
He felt her scream in his mind, a helpless cry filled with desperate pain. She was confused and afraid, linked with him yet unknowingly sharing her thoughts. She was terrified of him yet afraid he had deserted her, afraid he might even be enjoying her pain as the vampire had. Mostly she was afraid for her brother, Joshua, believing he was alone, unprotected in the house of a vampire so powerful, he had killed another of the undead in a matter of moments.
Aidan launched himself into the night sky, needing to cover the distance between them as quickly as possible. At that moment he didn’t care if someone saw a strange night owl, huge beyond belief, winging its way over the city. She needed him. She was begging Marie for a doctor. Marie was in distress, wanting to accommodate her yet knowing Aidan was the only one who could help her. He heard it all clearly, the soft voice begging for help, the housekeeper nearly in tears. He was sharing Alexandria’s mind, experiencing everything she was experiencing. Confusion. Pain. Fear amounting to terror.
He flew to her, to be close when she called out for him. And he hoped, for both their sakes, that that would be soon. She needed him, but he had promised to compel her no further than the blood exchange. She had to call for him.
Outside the underground chamber he paced, Alexandria’s pitiful cries sending shards of pain through his own heart. A dozen times he reached for the door, wanting, even needing to kick it in. But she had to call to him. She had to express faith in him or she would never believe he was helping, not harming, her. He rested his forehead against the door, then was shocked to see a crimson stain from the contact. He was sweating blood, in agony hearing her pleas and feeling the pain twisting and burning within her body. The physical agony he could manage, but his heart and his mind were in torment.
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.
“I don’t want to hear any more.” Her body was stiffening. Even with Aidan’s enormous strength, a spasm of pain nearly wrenched her from his grasp. A low moan escaped her clenched teeth, her nails bit into his arms, but she clung to him while her body rid itself of the tainted blood and her cells and organs continued to reshape into those of another race. Her mind was chaos and pain, a place of fear and agony.
The spasm lasted a full three minutes, the intensity peaking and then ebbing like the waves of the sea. She was beaded in blood, sweating it. Her breath came in ragged gasps; her heart was nearly exploding. “I can’t do this,” she gasped.
“Then trust me. I came back for you, did I not? I will not harm or desert you while you sleep. Why do you resist?”
“At least awake I know what’s going on.”
“You don’t know, piccola. I share your mind. You cannot comprehend anything other than pain. Let me help you. I cannot take much more of your agony either. I am afraid I will lose control and be forced to break my promise not to further compel you. Do not force me to break trust with you. Give your consent that I may put you to sleep.”
She could hear the pleading and honesty in his voice. She also felt that warm, sensuous velvet that wrapped her up and made her want to do whatever he wished. It frightened her that his voice alone held so much power. This man, whatever he might be, was dangerous, lethal. She sensed it, but at that moment, with the heat starting and the mixture of pleading and warning in the golden eyes, she gave up the fight. “Don’t hurt me anymore,” she whispered against the warmth of his throat.