Read Online Nightshine: A Novel of the Kyndred by Lynn Viehl - Free Book Online Page B

for my job, so don’t worry about it. I know I’m clean.”
    “I remember your asking me about my blood type.” She had given him her own blood; no wonder she looked so drawn and pale. “What did you do to my back?”
    “Nothing.” She put her hand on his arm. “You probably wrenched it on the bridge. I’ll see if I can find something for the pain.”
    “Pain. That is the problem. I’m not in pain. Any pain.” He laughed a little. “Charlotte, somehow you’ve healed me.”
    “Jesus healed the lame, Sam. I just gave you some blood.” She looked uncertain. “You’re sure you don’t feel any pain at all? Maybe you’re just riding an adrenaline high.”
    “After fifteen years of enduring it every day—lately every hour of every day—I know pain,” he assured her. “Not feeling it is incredible.” He frowned. “And impossible.”
    “Sam, while I was working on you, you had some kind of seizure,” she told him. “It could have been a small stroke, and that can cause nerve damage.”
    “Then I would have some paralysis as well, which I don’t.” He looked down at himself. “Everything seems to be working very well.”
    “Yeah, but you were in shock, too. Sometimes a combination of these things can do some weird stuff to the body.” When he would have sat up the rest of the way she pressed his arm. “Take it slow. If you fall, I don’t think I’m going to be able to pick you up without help.” She put her arm around his back. “Anytime you want to stop, just tell me.”
    As he moved into a sitting position, Taske’s head remained as clear as his sight. He felt no discomfort, numbness, or any sensation other than that of his muscles coiling and uncoiling to accommodate his movements. As Charlotte stood up and watched him he eased his legs over the side of the bed, and then slowly rose. Expecting his knees to buckle, he put a hand on her shoulder, but his legs remained strong and steady.
    “I’ve walked with a limp since I was a teenager.” He took one step, and then another, and suddenly, effortlessly, he was moving across the room. It had been so long since he’d walked without using a cane that his hand and arm felt odd, but not once did he lose his balance or stagger. Joy rushed through him, a genie released after a thousand years bottled up who had granted his dearest wish without even asking him. He turned around and strode to Charlotte, seizing her by the waist and lifting her off her feet to twirl her around.
    “Look at me.” He laughed. “Charlotte, I can walk. My God, I think I can even run.”
    “That’s terrific, Sam.” Her hands clamped on his shoulders. “Would you put me down now?”
    “Forgive me.” He laughed again as he lowered her back to her feet and pulled her against him in an affectionate hug. “You can’t know what this means.” He cradled her face between his hands. “I thought I was a dead man—no, I knew I was—and now I wake up and I can walk.” He stroked a hand over her tousled hair before he kissed her pretty mouth.
    The delight pouring through him grew heated as he tasted the sweetness of her lips, and suddenly his excitement became urgent and dark. He filled his hands with her hair and nudged her lips apart, inhaling her startled breath and tasting her with his tongue. Her hands slid up his chest, pressing for a moment before they curved around his neck. He wanted to laugh again as he splayed his hands over her back and worked them down to the luscious curves of her hips. Before this he could only look at her and wish, but now that he was healed, now that he was strong, he could be like any other man, and take her to his bed, and give her hours and hours of pleasure. . . .
    His bed was in Tannerbridge, not here.
    Taske lifted his mouth from hers. Charlotte stood very still, her eyes wide and fixed on his face, her cheeks rosy. She appeared as appalled as he was astonished. He intended to apologize, instantly and profusely, but the words he