Slade (14 page)

So many thoughts raced through her mind as she ran the damp sponge over his muscular chest. She touched him as lightly as she could, not wanting to cause him further pain. The poor man had been through a lot today—both the physical hurt to his body and what had to be hurt to his pride as well.

She moved gently, but soon had him cleaned up enough to begin her real work. Laying aside the basin of bloody water, she rubbed her hands together to focus her energy, then began to work. She held her hands about an inch above his body, moving slowly as she took stock of the places where he was more seriously injured. Diagnosis was a rare skill, but one she had mastered early in her training.

Kate tried to hold back her shock at what she found. Emotion may or may not help her focus her power to best advantage. She had to try for objectivity as she discovered what was truly wrong with him and why he continued to sleep even while she worked on him. She suspected that wasn’t normal shifter behavior.
From what she’d seen they were always alert, particularly Slade.

She started at the top and worked her way down his torso, pausing when she came to his ribs. She counted four broken ribs—one dangerously close to puncturing his lung. Dear Goddess. She didn’t know how he’d been walking around with this kind of damage.

She went deeper and found internal hemorrhaging. Here was the real problem. When the vampire had hit him, she’d dealt him a crushing blow that had bruised his internal organs and caused a great deal of bleeding inside, where he’d been able to hide the extent of his injury through sheer force of will.

The kind of pain he’d hidden was something few people—even shifters—could manage. Most would have passed out long before. Slade had managed not only to stay conscious, but to let her dilly-dally around with the animals before she saw to him.

Guilt ate at her. She should have let the animals wait. Slade was much more badly injured than she would have imagined based on his actions. She couldn’t believe he’d waited so long to succumb to the pain, never making a sound about what had to be excruciating.

Her admiration for his control went up another notch, but at the same time, she wished he’d have let on what was really going on. She would have come to him much sooner. As it was, she was going to have a hard time fixing him up. She would. She had to. But these kinds of injuries were tricky.

Focusing, she sent her energy into him in small pulses, aimed at the areas of angry red in her internal vision. Healing required a slightly different use of her magesight. Many could not manage it, but she’d pleased her teachers with her ability. She would need all her skill now to help Slade, but she wouldn’t let him suffer any more than he already had. She would heal him if it took everything she had left. He was worth every sacrifice. Such a noble creature—such a pure-hearted man—could not be lost. She prayed the Goddess would not allow such an injustice.

Kate touched him, using her fingers to aim the arrows of healing energy into his body, to the places that needed it most. She stopped the bleeding little by little and used dispersive magic to break up the pooling blood and encourage it to be reabsorbed into his body.

He would probably be weak for a bit while his body made up for the lost blood, but he would be a lot better than he was now. She stopped the last of the bleeding and began to repair the internal injuries as best she could. She could do a lot to speed his recovery, but the fine work would have to be done by his body itself. She could do the heavy lifting—removing the bruising and even giving the bones a head start on fusing—but he would be achy for a while as his internal systems did the rest.

One thing she noticed as she worked was that his magic rose up to meet and help hers. It didn’t fight her influence, as had happened sometimes when she tried to
work on other shapeshifters. Instead, his inner magic met and augmented hers. That was new. And very useful. She was able to work more quickly and deeper than she had expected with his magic fueling her own. Maybe his healing would be more complete than she’d thought.

It was as if he somehow knew on an unconscious level that she was
trying to help him. While it might hurt a bit as she did her work, the ultimate goal was one of healing and his magic seemed to embrace hers and even encourage it.

When she finally sat back and exhaled the breath she’d been holding, she was dizzy. The room spun a little, but it didn’t matter when Slade’s eyes opened. Slowly, he turned his head and smiled at her, his half-lidded gaze meeting hers with easy intimacy.

Oh, yeah.
She had to catch her breath as a startling mix of sexual energy and relief zinged through her.

“How are you feeling?” she asked gently, her throat dry from the exertion of the past half hour.

“Better.” His eyes narrowed even as he smiled. “Embarrassed. Thankful.”

She smiled at him. “There
’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You took on an ancient, blood-starved, crazed vampire and lived to tell the tale. From what I hear, that’s an uncommon thing.” She brushed a strand of his black hair away from his brow. “Slade, you could have died of those injuries. You were bleeding internally and it was…” She had to pause as emotion welled. “It was bad,” she finished in a whisper.

Slade made an attempt to get up, but she stilled him, reaching for his hands. He turned the tables on her and pulled her down on top of him until their faces were only inches apart, her fabric-covered breasts flattened against his bare chest.

“Thank you.” His simple words whispered against her lips, and she needed to taste him. To know he was alive and with her. Her head lowered a fraction of an inch and then he took control.

His kiss let her know, in no uncertain terms, that he was feeling better. It started out friendly, but soon turned passionate and when he rolled them both to the side, she didn’t protest, even though she knew she should caution him to take it easy.

She was too caught up in his kiss, the feel of his arms engulfing her, protecting her, sharing his warmth and the heat of his skin.

She wanted more.

Chapter Eight

The feel of Kate under him was something Slade had wanted to experience since the first moment he’d seen her. It was even better than anything he’d imagined in the short hours since they’d first met.

Never in his long life had he felt such an instant, compelling attraction to a woman. He’d always been somewhat aloof in affairs of the heart, never spending more than a few weeks with any one woman. Running the other way if they showed signs of becoming too attached to him. Slade had been a loner—a
tomcat on the prowl—which wasn’t all that uncommon among big cat shifters.

But something about this priestess called to him on a deeper level. He wanted her to become attached to him. Actively wanted that, and so much more
, from her.

They hadn’t known each other long at all, but he’d heard that sometimes these sorts of things happened. Somehow, their magic recognized each other. Recognized and mingled in the most tantalizing way.

Her magic had reached out and caressed his senses from the moment they started working together, using their power in a harmony he hadn’t ever felt with anyone else. She just… fit… somehow. Their power fed off and magnified each other, which was something entirely new to him.

Even his own family—the few who had magic like his—didn’t evoke this kind of response. His mother and
great-grandmother had taught him how to use his power but theirs had always remained separate and distinct from his own. Their magic competed with his for supremacy—as such things often did in his experience. They had counted him trained when he could copy their example and do whatever task they had set without their magic guiding his.

The few times he had overpower
ed his mother’s attempts to teach him had been uncomfortable tests of will. It was at that point—at a very young age—that his training had been turned over to his great-grandmother. He’d never been able to overcome her magic. At least, not until he was fully adult. They’d never put it to the test, but he believed he was at least his great-grandmother’s equal now, if not slightly better. He would never pit his skills directly against hers out of respect, but he’d discovered things about himself and his magic over the years of his adulthood that would probably surprise the old gal.

Kate’s magic was different. So beautifully differe
nt.

It caressed him on several levels. Spiritually, she was a bright light of the Goddess’ favor. She touched Mother Earth and channeled the pure heart of the planet. The music of the spheres sang in her
magic and the sheer goodness of the Light shone in her clear eyes.

Her heart was pure. Of that he had no doubt. Whether she had come to her calling already that way, or if she had been purified by the Lady’s Light, Slade didn’t know. It didn’t really matter. She was beautiful inside and out, and to him, she was almost perfect in every way.

She wasn’t a shifter, but that didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Differences often made partnerships stronger. Slade wasn’t a snob. That Kate was a woman of power, a priestess of the Lady, was nice, but he knew he still would have wanted her had she been a powerless mortal with no knowledge of the paranormal world.

One of his relatives had already found a deep and true mating with a human
, and Slade didn’t turn up his nose at their love. In fact, he admired their relationship, glad of their happiness. It didn’t matter to him that the newly adopted member of his Clan would never shift shape. All that mattered was that they loved each other and were happy.

Happiness
was rare in this dangerous time. Slade had dedicated his life to ridding the world of those who would cause sorrow. Making the world safer was his mission—in whatever form it took.

This time, his calling had led him here, to this amazing woman and the new feelings she stirred in his soul. He didn’t question it too much. He didn’t want to jinx whatever it was that had started to grow between them. One should not question a blessing, he had learned.

So rather than question, he merely enjoyed. He’d taken this moment out of time to take Kate in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of her.

She responded so beautifully. She fit so perfectly in his arms. In his bed.

Okay, it wasn’t technically his bed, but his aroused body didn’t know the difference. It could be the sandy desert floor or the flower covered sheets on the guest room’s bed. Wherever he was, as long as Kate was in his arms, he was happy. And seriously turned on.

“Kate,” he whispered against her lips, breaking the kiss as the fire building inside him roared higher.

He lowered his mouth to slide over her neck, nipping lightly. He had to hold back his instincts. He wanted to bite. To claim.

But he couldn’t. Not yet.

She moaned and any pain he might have still felt from his injuries was wiped away by the sound of her passion. His hands moved over her, looking for fastenings and not really succeeding. The sound of tearing cloth didn’t really register over the joy of feeling her bare skin against his hands, against his chest.

He cupped her breasts, ripping the flimsy bra off her shoulders and then pulling until the metal clasps in the back bent or tore off under his power. Even in his rush to get her naked, he was careful not to put any strain against her delicate skin. He’d rather die than hurt her in any way.

The bra came off and then her soft breasts were in his hands, in his mouth, as she writhed against him. Her legs rose and parted, surrounding him with her warmth, encouraging him without words to claim the place he so wanted to go.

He paused, reveling in the feel of her against him. Her breasts were soft, pointed at the tips, ready for him. Excited. Her whole body shivered as he sucked her deep into his mouth, using his tongue to play with her nipple, his other hand mirroring the effect
on the other side.

She was so
deliciously feminine against his questing fingers and tongue. She tasted divine. Her skin held the flavor of ambrosia to his starved senses. He loved hearing her little sighs and the feel of her trembling beneath him.

But he wanted more. And judging by the way she responded to him, she did too.

Slade’s hands moved downward, over her hips. The soft, full skirt she wore was no hindrance to his quest. He blessed her choice in clothing, yanking the soft cotton down over her hips rather than bunching it up around her middle. It would only get in the way later. Coaxing her legs together for a moment, he stretched the elastic waistband of the peasant skirt down and over her long, shapely legs.

She helped, kicking the wad of fabric away from her feet once he pushed it past her knees. Her panties went with it and then she was bare against him. She
parted her thighs eagerly as he sought his place between them.

He still wore his pants, but that was easily remedied. What
really mattered now was that she wanted the same thing he did. That she was as ready for him as he was for her.

“Kitten, if you want to stop, tell me now.” He was a desperate man.

She seemed to be beyond words as her hands sought and found the fastening of his pants. She worked with ferocity, if not a lot of skill, to open his fly and push the offending fabric out of her way. Slade felt a growl rise in his chest—a growl of full-on desire—as he helped her reveal his cock. His undeniable desire for her delectable body.