Damian gains the location of the inn from her mind. After they have had their discussion he will tell her that she should better guard her mind. He's too distracted now to do anything other than fly.
From the moment she climbed onto his back he was all too well aware of her naked front pressed to his back. And it doesn't help that she has her legs around his waist. He feels the warmth radiating from between her legs to the middle of his back. It is a battle of control. If he didn't have her friend in his arms he would turn around and claim her in the air. Just that thought alone has every muscle in his body at attention and his blood pooling low in the center of his body.
In further attempt to distract himself, he regards the woman in his arms. Vicky, as the fair-skinned one had referred to her. Her eyes are closed, but she is not asleep. She hasn't said a word since she was attacked by the vampire and she remains quiet even in his arms, undoubtedly in shock.
Just then he feels warm lips at his ear, warm breath causing his cock to twitch in his jeans.
"I haven't thanked you for helping us."
"Are you thanking me now?" He looks over his shoulder, seeing the fair-skinned woman in the corner of his eye.
"I haven't decided yet. That depends on you."
He catches the sly smile forming in the corner of her mouth. "You're welcome."
Any further conversation comes to a halt when the inn is in sight. She directs him to Vicky's room by way of the balcony. Damian touches down on the wood softly. He feels the cold air on his back instantly as she peels herself from him.
"Don't go inside yet. We warded our rooms."
He turns to regard her but she is already moving in front of him, drawing her robe closed. Her head is tilted down so that her brown hair forms a curtain around her face, preventing him from seeing her expression. She has taken better care of her mind too, but he is still able to gather her slight embarrassment from having her naked self pressed against a stranger. He won't be a stranger for long, he assures himself. And once he's claimed her, she won't ever shy her body away from him again.
Damian watches wordlessly as she utters a few phrases and then tries one of the double doors leading into the room. It opens without contest. She steps inside and gestures him in by the tilt of her head. His is careful of Vicky in his arms.
"You can put her on the bed."
He does so without complaint while she rummages through the drawers across the room. When he places Vicky down, the darker-skinned woman curls up into the fetal position. The shock will wear off soon, no doubt, and then the terror will sweep in. He backs away from the bed just as her friend comes between them with a set of pajamas.
"Turn around while I dress her, please."
He nods, affording the women some privacy.
"Easy does it, Vic. One arm and then the other. Now your legs."
He turns back before she gives him the okay but Vicky is already dressed and her friend is helping her under the covers. The fair-skinned one is still clad in her black lace robe. He can still see the shape of her, the moonlight shinning in the room, illuminating her pale skin underneath.
"It's safe now. Rest."
Damian watches as she stokes her friend's forehead as she would a child before turning away from the bed and walking towards him. She goes to grab his arm, her fingers unable to wrap around the width of him, in a move to usher him out. He can't help but picture her fingers wrapping around another part of his body. Shaking his head, he lets her lead him from the room and into the hallway.
"I can suppress the memory for her, if you'd like."
"That's up to Victoria," she hisses. "And we have spells for that."
She leads him to the door of the adjacent room, pausing a moment to undo the wards. With a flick of the wrist, the door opens and she sashays inside.
He follows her inside, closing the door behind him. As a precaution, he sets up wards of his own on both of the rooms in case any vampire has somehow got onto the trail he took pains to cloaking.
"I'm just going to change and then you better start squawking." He scoffs at her choice of phrase as she disappears into the bathroom.
The room is lit by several candles scattered around on the floor, dresser drawers, and vanity. There is a faded pentacle chalked on the wood flooring.
"Are you a sorceress?" he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.
"A witch, actually," she replies, causing his eyebrow to draw up.
All in all, he supposes, if Carpathians exist, there's no reason witches couldn't, although he never really thought about it before.
"I've never encountered a witch," he admits.
She emerges from the bathroom in a tank top and draw-string pajama pants. It's enough to make him clear his mind or risk the beast in him rising. He did not fed much this rising and giving Vicky blood has him running low. He needs sustenance and seeing his the barely clothed witch who is somehow his lifemate has ever nerve at attention.
"Which brings us to what you are. You said you would answer my questions. You've told me your name. Damian, right?" he nods. "Well, Damian, you're not human and you're not a familiar, then what are you?"
He likes the way she said his name. And he noticed how she still neglected to offer her own. "I'm a Carpathian, a very old and powerful people. My ancestors come from the Carpathian Mountains and it is where I was born and raised. Though local legend would suggest that we are immortal, it is simply longevity on our side. Carpathians can live for thousands of years. In fact, we are considered fledglings until we reach the two hundred year mark. We have the ability to turn into any animal and can control the natural elements around us to an extent in addition to some magical ones. We are a nocturnal race, walking the earth at night and sleeping the healing sleep in the earth by day. Blood is our sustenance—"
"Blood. You mean that you drink blood in order to live?"
"Yes."
"Like a vampire?"
"I am not Vampire." His voice sounding harsher than he means it to.
She takes a step back from him. "And that thing that attacked Vicky?"
"That thing that attacked your friend was Vampire, yes."
Her hand instinctively goes to her throat. "You can't be serious. Vampires actually exist?"
He nods.
"Yet you also drink blood."
"Carpathians and Vampires are not the same. Vampires are the result of a Carpathian draining a life. They essentially lose their souls and become undead."
She shakes her head in disbelief. "But you're not a Vampire?"
"I am not. Although the danger is still there."
"What do you mean?"
"The males of my people live for centuries, as I've said. During that time they begin to lose their emotions, their ability to feel things like happiness and love. They know only duty. They also lose all color from their vision, living in a world of grey. The only feeling males get at that point is the adrenaline rush from a kill. In that time, the darkness in our souls draws us into taking the plunge, draining a human of their lifeblood and condemning our souls to that darkness. In essence, becoming Vampire."
"And you are in danger of becoming Vampire? That's what you're telling me. Just how old are you?"
"I've walked this earth for over nine hundred years."
"That's a long time."
"Yes it is. But it is not the end. Our men have hope, hope that they will find the other half of their soul, the only woman who can restore a Carpathian's emotions and color, who can tether his soul to the light. The pair are called lifemates. Apart they will never know true happiness or love. Together they will live a fulfilled life beyond any comprehension. Once a Carpathian male binds him and his lifemate together, then he will no longer have to fear succumbing to the darkness, to become Vampire. Lifemates are two halves of the same, light to darkness, female to male."
"Have you found your lifemate?"
"I have, although I have yet to claim her."
"And does she know that you've found her?"
His gaze bore into hers. "She does now."
Her hand slides from her throat to drop at her side.