Bloodspell (The Cruentus Curse, #1)(64)

She remained there until she felt familiar arms enclosing her in their tender warmth, Christian's voice against her hair, his lips on her temple, even as she struggled viciously against him.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed. "Don't touch me ... don't touch me ..."

CHRISTIAN REMAINED UNYIELDING, whispering against her hair until finally, inexorably she calmed, her body shuddering as she clung to him. He could feel the tightening of his jaw in violent response to the blood that had soaked through her clothing but he ignored it, stifling the urge viciously. The sound of her scream and the scent of her blood had all but done him in as he had raced to the top of the mountain.

When he had felt her slipping away earlier, Christian had almost lost it, especially as he hadn't been able to contact her right after their brief mental exchange. Holding her in his arms, her wild unhinged strength had been nearly impossible to contain, but he had held on.

Christian stood, taking her with him as if she weighed no more than a feather. With his free foot, he kicked fresh snow over the blood-spattered earth, knowing from the sounds lower down the mountains that the rescue crews he had seen would be heading their way. As he turned, Christian registered movement in the trees off to the left and his eyes locked with a pair of familiar icy blue eyes. Lena. She didn't move, just stood watching him and the gentle way he sheltered Victoria in his arms.

"Tell your master that if he comes after her again, he'll face me," he hissed in her direction.

Christian wondered how long she had been standing there, and whether the pile of ash-covered dark clothing lying on the ground was the remains of her witch friend. He glared at her ruthlessly, his lips drawn in a hard tight line, and turned away. He was gone in a second.

Christian held Victoria close against him as the limousine sped down I-95 to his house. While she slept, he telephoned Enhard.

"Enhard, it's Christian. The witch is dead."

"Did you do it?"

"No." He didn't elaborate.

"Good, that will help with your brother." Enhard paused. "Before you go, I spoke to one of the high priestess delegates after you left about Le Sang Noir. They call it the Cruentus Curse. What I learned may surprise you. She told me that its power can only be freely given, which means it can't be taken by force, nor can the witch who controls it be killed for it as the power will die with her. It's passed on to direct descendants and even then, it's sporadic. This thing goes back centuries, Christian, it goes much, much farther than we ever thought."

Enhard's revelations floored Christian. There was no way Lucian could ever possess its power, Victoria would never ever give it to him freely ... unless he had something planned to force her to do so. The thought scared the hell out of him because he was familiar with Lucian's ruthless tactics. He would have to protect her at all costs. He stroked her cheek and felt her stir beneath his fingers.

Victoria's eyes opened and Christian's worried face swam into focus. Her body ached and she felt like throwing up. She could feel the memory of the witch's magic infecting her system like a virus. She didn't deserve to be touched. She was a monster, a hideous soul-sucking monster! Christian's arms tightened around her.

"Kiss me," she whispered, shamelessly taking the small comfort he offered. "Make me forget ... please."

She pressed her open mouth urgently against his, tasting his hot breath, desperate for anything to offset the dark chill inside of her. Christian's entire body froze, his teeth the only part of him moving, and he ground his lips into a hard line. Victoria dragged hers from his suddenly unyielding ones and trailed them up his jawline to his ear. A muscle in his cheek ticked as she exposed the long delicate column of her neck to him.

Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips to her neck, drinking in the smell of her as his razor-sharp incisors shredded the inside of his mouth. His lips parted of their own volition and for one agonizing second, the taste of her sweetly forbidden skin invaded his mouth in a hot rush. He'd never wanted to give in to what he was so badly in that moment ... but all it took was one instant of weakness. Christian tore his lips away from the banquet of her warm flesh, tasting his own blood on his tongue and terrifyingly wanting more, a brutal reminder of what he was.

He held himself perfectly still as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he said hoarsely.

"No," she said. "My blood takes care of itself."

"Tell me," he said, stroking the backs of his fingers down her smooth cheek, his touch agonizingly tender.

"Christian," she said. "I'm ... I'm a monster."

"You are no monster." He laughed hollowly.

"But I am. Christian, I killed her. I killed the witch. And I enjoyed it, or the blood did, but it's still me." She spoke in a rush as if she wanted to get it out and looked away.

"Tori, she attacked you. You defended yourself and she lost. That was it," he said.

"You don't understand. I took her magic into myself, and even though it was filthy and cloying, I liked it. I liked the feeling of power, and when I killed her, I liked it even more! I loved it. It was so easy ... I reveled in taking ... the taking ..." Victoria gasped, unable to finish. "The blood takes and feeds ... and I am helpless against it."

Christian was quiet. He knew that she had only defended herself, and she was lucky that her blood had fought back. Lena would have been merciless if she had captured Victoria, and Lucian would have been far, far worse.