“Oh,” I gasped, my legs collapsing from under me as shimmers of pain and anguish skimmed along the surface of my skin, my palm flat against the nightstand as if it was glued there. I crumpled onto the bed, my eyes wide, the breath caught in my throat. I felt strangled, bound somehow, as if I was a slave to a strong presence, unable to break away from the endless torment that wrapped around me like invisible chains.

“Fran? Are you all right?”

“Pain,” I gasped, trying to get air into my lungs. My entire chest felt compressed by my bondage, despair forcing me down to the floor on my knees. “Blessings of the goddess, the pain.”

“Finnvid!” From a distance, I heard Imogen’s voice, filled with panic.

Francesca? What’s wrong?

Pain.

Where are you?

Can’t breathe. Too much.

Ben’s presence in my mind was a calming influence. Do not panic, Beloved. I will help you. Is someone harming you?

Lich.

I understand. Think of me, Francesca. Remember last night. Think of what you felt.

My mind was so overwhelmed with the blackness of anguish and panic, it was difficult for me to focus. No air!

There is air. Think about how you lay on my chest last night. Our hearts were beating together, do you remember? I felt every breath you took. Breathe now.

Slowly, the images he was projecting into my mind pushed back the fear and pain and sense of utter despair. I opened my mouth, wanting desperately to get some air into my lungs, little wavering dots starting to form in front of my eyes, but I couldn’t do it.

“Goddess? What has happened to you?”

I felt someone kneel next to me and knew it must be Finnvid, knew that Imogen was fretting beyond him, but I couldn’t see them. I couldn’t see anything but a hazy redness that was slowly being eaten up by black.

Faintly, I heard Imogen cry in relief. Just as I thought I was going to fall into the inky redness, Ben was there, pulling me back from the edge. Fingers clamped painfully around my wrist, pulling my hand from the nightstand.

The second the contact was broken, the mist disappeared and my vision slowly cleared. I looked up to find myself cradled in Ben’s arms, his face and naked torso as red as a boiled lobster, with tiny white blisters along one side.

“You’re burned.”

“What happened?” he asked, ignoring my statement.

I leaned against him, drawing comfort from the strength of him. I wanted badly to touch his burned face, but when I tried to lift my hand, I found it just hung there, as heavy as a lead weight. “My hand.”

He frowned, lifting my hand, turning it slightly so the palm faced him.

Imogen gasped. “Oh, Fran!”

My palm was as black as if I had painted it. I stared in horror at it, then looked closer. It wasn’t a true black; it was a blackish purple. “That’s . . .”

“Blood,” Ben said. “Does it hurt?”

“No. It’s numb. I can’t feel it at all. Why is my hand filled with black blood?” My skin crawled at the thought of some heinous disease.

“It’s not a disease. It’s like a bruise, a profound bruise. I believe I can heal it.”

I watched with concern as he gently stroked my fingers and palm. It was true I didn’t feel any pain; the hand was almost icy in its numbness. But the color was enough to freak me out. What happened to me?

You said it was a lich.

Yes, it was. A man named Ulfur. And oh, Ben, he’s in so much pain, so much torment. It was different from what I feel when I touch you.

I startled him. He shot me a quizzical glance before returning his attention to my hand, his long fingers stroking my abused flesh. You can feel my pain?

Oh, yes.

I’m sorry. I had no idea you would feel the negative aspects of being a Dark One. I will take care to shield you from them.

No, you won’t.

He looked even more startled.

Ben, I don’t just want to see all the happy feelings inside you, although those are always nice to share. If we are to get to know each other, that includes all the less than flattering stuff as well, like the fact that you snore, and I am always grumpy in the morning until I’ve had coffee.

I do not snore! he said, outraged. I am a Dark One. Mortals snore—we do not.

Fine, you don’t snore. You breathe heavily, in a rhythmical way that everyone else would assume was snoring.

You imagined it.

As Ben continued to stroke the flesh, I felt a faint sensation of warmth, not enough to make my hand feel normal, but a bit of the iciness left it. I looked away from my hand to where Imogen was hovering behind him, making little distressed noises. “Imogen, does Ben snore?”

She didn’t even bat an eyelash at that question. “Yes, he does.”

I won’t say “I told you so” because that would be gloating. But I did tell you.

I can see I’m going to have to separate you two lest you continue to gang up on me, he grumbled, but I felt his amusement nonetheless.

Why would touching something that a lich touched do this to me? Are they evil like demons?

They are beings like any others—some good, some bad. The one who was in here, assumedly to take your valknut, must have been tainted with evil.

I thought for a moment about what it was I felt. No, not evil, I said slowly. He was in pain, lots of pain. It was like he was wrapped so tightly in chains that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

He is a lich—they are bound to necromancers much in the way demons are bound to demon lords.

That makes sense, then. I don’t think he wanted to be here. I think he was being forced.

It doesn’t matter much, Ben said, shrugging off the matter of the lich’s bondage. He carried out his master’s orders regardless of his own wishes.

But that doesn’t explain why touching something he touched should have affected me so profoundly.

You weren’t prepared for it. Now you know to shield yourself when coming into contact with items tainted by those who wield dark power.

That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. I may never take off my gloves again.

He said nothing, focusing his concentration on my hand. After a few minutes of silence, he looked up. “I’m afraid this is as good as I can do.”

My palm and the underside of my fingers were now a vivid shade of saffron. “It’s better than it was. Thank you. It doesn’t feel so cold, either.”

He released my hand and it fell like an anvil. Ben picked it up again, frowning. “Is your arm affected?”

“A little, yes.” I flexed my arm, my muscles trembling as if they’d been worked almost to the breaking point, but at last they responded and I managed to pull my arm up to my chest.

“She needs a doctor,” Imogen said.

“Aye,” agreed Finnvid, naked and wet. He stood behind Ben, looking down at us.

Ben glanced back, face to genitals with the Viking. “For god’s sake, you randy ghost, put some clothes on. Imogen!”

“Fran needs—”

“I will take care of her,” Ben interrupted.

Imogen looked like she wanted to argue with him, but backed down under his potent stare, murmuring something about helping Finnvid.

“I don’t need a doctor,” I said, leaning back against the side of the mattress, still cradling my arm. “It’s nothing a normal doctor could deal with.”

“No, it isn’t. However, I will take you to Tallulah. She has some healing powers, and she will be able to determine if there is something needful to be done.”

I smiled at him, feeling a warm glow in my belly at his concern. “Did you know that when you get stressed, your speech becomes more formal and old-fashioned?”

He raised his eyebrows, flinched, and reached up to rub his burned face. “What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t matter; I just think it’s kind of cute. Hey, wait a minute . . . You’re not going out like that. You’re all burned and blistered as is.”

Dark Ones have amazing recuperative powers. I’d seen that in the past when Ben had been both burned by the sunlight and attacked by some force he hadn’t explained. But despite knowing that, I still watched with amazement as he rubbed first the side of his face, then his chest and arms until the blisters disappeared, and the redness abated.

“You ought to become a doctor. Just think of the people you could heal with those fabulous vamp powers.”

He made a little face and held out a hand for me. Since I was still feeling a little wobbly from the episode, I allowed him to pull me to my feet. “Unfortunately, there are limits to both the amount of healing I can do and who it will work on. Individuals with a close blood tie and Beloveds can be healed; for others, I am powerless.”

“That’s a shame, although I suppose it makes sense. Otherwise the world would be full of vampire doctors.”

He said nothing, just opened the door for me. Just as we left the room, Imogen came up the steps from outside, talking very fast. “It was truly frightening, and I had no idea what to do for her, but luckily, Ben is here, and he saved Fran. And there she is. Fran, my dear, you look so pale. Sit down, and I’ll make you a cup of peppermint tea while Tallulah looks at your hand.”

Go back to bed. You’re tired and should sleep.

Francesca, if I were to tell you to spend the rest of the day resting in your mother’s trailer, what would you say?

I’d say you are nuts for thinking you can give me orders like that.

Exactly.

I looked at him while Tallulah examined my hand. It took a minute or so before I understood what he meant. Inner Fran crossed her arms and smiled as I realized I was guilty of ordering Ben around in the manner that I myself hated. Sorry. My relationship skills are a little underdeveloped.

Your apology is accepted. I will return to bed just as soon as I know you don’t need further care.

“She has had an injury, but it is one of a psychic nature rather than the physical. The trauma to her hand has been partially repaired,” Tallulah said, pushing up the sleeve of my shirt to press on the muscles of my arm. “I am not an expert, of course, but I do not see any signs of permanent damage.”