Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6) Read online

  Barack instantly looked contrite. “Hey, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I am not like the one who attacked you. Desari hired you. That means you are under our protection. Seriously, do not fear me. I have never had any woman fear me.”

  Rusti forced herself to stand her ground and made herself smile. “I’m just a little nervous after yesterday. Once the others get back, I won’t be so tense.” But at the moment she felt as if she had stumbled into a nest of rattlesnakes.

  “We are friends, Tempest. Come here. Show me what you have done to make this machine purr.”

  She could feel his mind reaching to calm hers, to compel her to do his bidding. Which was worse? Allowing him to use her for a food source or allowing him to realize she knew exactly what he was? Would he then kill her? She decided it might be dangerous to let him know he wasn’t controlling her, so she made herself stumble toward him, fear and revulsion choking her. She didn’t want this man touching her the way Darius did.

  For a moment interest at that thought swirled enough through her mind to push down her fear. Why, if the notion of being used for food sickened her, did she find the way Darius bit into her neck blatantly erotic?

  Okay. She had lost her mind totally, she decided. That was the only answer. She had to get out of this jam and find a way to run for it. Produce a suddenly sick aunt in need out of thin air.

  She was close to Barack now, his body crowding hers. Her stomach churning, feeling close to tears, she tried to hold herself very still. He was murmuring something to her; she could hear the words buzzing in her mind, but they had no meaning. She wanted to push him away and run. She couldn’t stand it; she couldn’t. She tried to equate what he was about to do with a simple animal bite, but her stomach revolted, and involuntarily she arched her neck away from his hot breath.

  Waves of distress nearly choked her as his fingers curled around her arm. He was enormously strong, quelling her struggles with a viselike grip. A small sound escaped, a note of terror. Inside her mind Tempest could hear herself screaming, though no sound emerged from her closed throat. She was in the middle of real nightmare with no way out.

  Then, without warning, not even a rush of wind, a huge black panther hit Barack squarely in the chest, a full two hundred pounds of fury driving the man back and away from Tempest. Barack hit the side of the car hard, the air knocked from him, then landed on the ground on his back, the cat driving straight for his throat.

  Vaguely aware of Desari, Julian, another man, and Syndil beginning to emerge from the trees but stopping, frozen in horror, Rusti sought to calm the wild cat. In its mind she found a red haze of killing fury, like nothing she had ever encountered. She ran forward, still trying to soothe it, whispering to it, commanding. Only when she was near Barack, a Barack who was not even struggling for his life, who instead lay submissively beneath those terrible teeth, did she comprehend that the cat was Darius. Shocked, she continued to approach the cat.

  “Rusti, stay back!” Desari called out to her. She tried to move forward to help Barack, to stop Tempest, but Julian was restraining her, literally lifting her off her feet, his strong arms around her waist.

  The terror on Desari’s face, echoing in her voice, registered with Tempest, but even with her own heart pounding in alarm, she reached for Darius, past the fierce fury of the animal to find the man. She knew him. She wasn’t exactly certain how, but she knew he was there, somewhere inside that killing rage.

  Darius. It is over. Barack did nothing but frighten me. Come back to me. She kept her tone a soft, trusting plea, much like what she used

  first with a frightened animal. Soothing, with a belief that it would respond. She somehow knew that Darius would not respond to any of the others and that if she didn’t stop him, the cat could very well end Barack’s life.

  This had happened because of her. That knowledge, like his identity, came to her seemingly out of nowhere, but she was certain of it, and she felt a rush of wonder that anyone could have such a depth of feeling for her.

  Please, Darius, for me

  —

  release Barack and come to me.

  The panther snarled, exposing long, razor-sharp canines, but at least he wasn’t sinking them into Barack’s throat. The cat crouched low, vicious, its body frozen into utter stillness, only the tail twitching restlessly, angrily, back and forth. Barack lay under the cat, totally submissive, well aware of who had attacked him. The silence was filled only with his heavy breathing and the cat’s snarling rage.

  “Darius.” Tempest was a heartbeat from the cat’s teeth. Cautiously she laid a hand on the heavily muscled back. Her voice was soft, warm honey. “I’m all right. Look at me. He didn’t hurt me. He really didn’t.”

  A collective gasp went up, as much for her knowledge as for her courage. It was now obvious to all that she knew the identity of the great cat. Desari clenched Julian’s hand in hers, suddenly afraid. No human could know of their existence and live. It placed them all in jeopardy. How did Tempest Trine know? Neither Darius nor Barack would have been so careless as to forget to expunge her memories. Yet how could they do such a thing as destroy the woman who had the courage to save one of their lives, as Tempest was clearly attempting to do?

  The black panther moved, ever so slightly shifting its weight, placing its neck beneath Tempest’s palm.

  Please, Darius, I’m hanging on to my courage by a thread. Help me out. I want to get away from everyone. This is very frightening. All of it. And I don’t understand it, so come to me and explain it.

  In spite of her determination to be brave, her hand was trembling as it lay on the great cat’s back.

  Tempest felt Darius’s control seeping slowly back into his mind, felt the man overcoming the beast’s rage. The panther moved against her, inserting itself between her and the fallen man. It pushed her away from Barack’s supine figure, farther even, toward the trees and away from the prying eyes of his family. Then the leopard padded behind her, directing her into the deeper woods, its walk so silent, she felt she could hear leaves falling.

  Back at the campsite the group released a long, collective sigh of relief. Dayan moved first, reaching down and pulling Barack to his feet. “Close call. What the hell did you do?” His voice was accusing. No one ever crossed Darius.

  Barack held up his hands. “Nothing. I swear it. I was going to feed, that’s all. Nothing else happened. He went berserk on me.”

  Syndil’s slender hand fluttered to her throat. “Could Darius be turning? Darius is never out of control. Could it be happening?”

  “No!” Desari cried out, somewhere between fear and outrage at the betraying thought. “No, Darius cannot turn. He is too strong.”

  Julian slipped an arm around her waist, a slight grin on his face. “None of you know, do you? Darius has not turned. He will never turn. Not now. He has found his lifemate.”

  “What are you talking about?” Dayan asked.

  “These things were never taught to you,” Julian mused softly, more to himself than the others. “You were not raised among other Carpathians. What is often second nature to us is not even known to you.” His grin widened. “It is not known to Darius. Life is about to become quite interesting around here, boys and girls.”

  “Stop spouting nonsense, and tell us what you mean.”

  Desari commanded, her soft, dark eyes beginning to smolder. “Should we be protecting Rusti?”

  “The only one safe is Tempest. Each Carpathian male must find the light to his darkness. It is his only salvation. Without that woman, his lifemate, he will eventually be forced to choose the dawn and eternal rest, or he will succumb to the madness of the undead and lose his soul for all time. Become vampire. There is only one woman for each male, one other half.”

  “But Tempest Trine is human,” Dayan objected. “This cannot be. We have been aware that there exists the other half of our heart, our soul, out there somewhere. A quest to find the proper mate must be made, as you found Desari, Julian. But Tempest is n
ot a Carpathian.”

  “There are a handful of human women,” Julian answered slowly, “all having some form of psychic ability, who can be lifemates to Carpathians. No doubt Tempest Trine is one such female. She wandered into your midst seeking a job but was likely drawn to do so because she was connected to Darius,” he explained. “Funny, is it not, how fate has a way of bringing two linked souls together? Do not attempt to intervene between them and, for God’s sake, do not touch that woman. Should you do so, Darius will be more beast than man, his every instinct to protect and care for her, to keep her from any others who might threaten her or her connection to him. He is more dangerous at this time than at any other.” Julian grinned again. “Leave him to it; he will figure it out eventually.”

  “I should talk to him, explain,” Desari said.

  “I did not hear him asking for explanations, did you?” Julian prompted, his arms gathering her close to him. “It is best—and safest—not to interfere in the process of joining lifemates.”

  “Wait a minute.” Barack leaned his long frame against the red car. “You lost me somewhere. I know Darius took her blood; I could smell his scent on her. Are you telling me that he would use her body, too? Isn’t that combination strictly forbidden with mortals? Darius himself taught us this.”

  “Tempest appears to be different,” Julian said. “She cannot be classified as a normal mortal; therefore, the rule does not apply.”

  Syndil’s doe-eyes, normally soft and loving, were glinting fire at Barack. “You sought to feed on her? That is beneath you. She was under our protection. You are so insensitive, Barack. Always the playboy. You cannot leave women alone, not even those traveling with us practically as family. Rusti had a terrible experience yesterday. Did you give that a thought when you went to satisfy your own urges?”

  “Syndil.” Barack looked hurt. Syndil had a sweet, loving nature and was never angry, never upset with any of them.

  “Do not ‘Syndil’ me, Barack. Are you so lazy that you had to feed from a woman protected by our family? I suspect you think so much of your charm that you thought she would be grateful to provide for you.”

  “It was not like that. I was merely overly hungry, having waited too long to feed. I would not have harmed the woman. And I had no idea she belonged to Darius. Hell, I never would have touched her had I known. He was going to rip my throat out, Syndil. You should be sympathizing with me. Look at my chest. He ripped open my skin. Won’t you come heal it for me?” Barack gave her his most imploring, boyish pout.

  “Perhaps next time you will think twice before you go chasing after women,” Syndil replied and whirled away.

  “Hey, wait a minute.” Barack trailed after her, desperately trying to get back into her good graces.

  “Have we all lost our minds around here?” Dayan demanded. “Soft, sweet Syndil is acting the shrew. Desari is acting like a lovesick calf. I do not know you well, Julian, but you seem to be enjoying Darius’s discomfort far more than is seemly, and bad-boy Barack is chasing after Syndil like a lost puppy. What the hell is happening?”

  “Your leader has found his lifemate, Dayan,” Julian said happily, “and is clueless, totally clueless, about how to deal with her. Finding your lifemate leaves you feeling as if someone punched you in the gut and stole your sanity. Your Darius is used to having his way in all things, simply commanding whatever he deems correct. But now I suspect he is in for the shock he so richly deserves.”

  “He will simply force his will upon Tempest,” Dayan said confidently, “then everything will return to normal.”

  “Forcing your will on your lifemate is in the same category as cutting your own throat. Not a wise idea. Still, watching will make for much fun,” Julian said smugly.

  Chapter Six

  Once in the thick shelter of the trees, the panther’s muscled form contorted and reshaped, shimmering in the blue darkness to become the solid frame of a man. Tempest watched, leaning for support against a tree trunk, wondering if she had somehow found Alice’s rabbit hole in the middle of a California state forest.

  Darius noted her unnatural pallor, the shock in her enormous eyes. Her soft mouth trembled, and she was twisting her fingers together in agitation, her knuckles white. He knew that if he approached her, she would run. “You know you are not afraid of me, Tempest.” His voice was a whisper in the night, a part of the night.

  Tempest looked around her. The color of night was deep blue, almost black, but mystical and beautiful. The trees rose as shadows toward the gem-scattered sky. Little tails of mist drifted slowly, lazily, knee-high along the forest floor. “Why do you seem as if you are such a part of all this?” she asked. “As if you belong to the night, but something beautiful, not dark and ugly? Why is that, Darius?” she asked again softly.

  “I do belong to the night. I am not of the same race as you. I am not human yet not beast or vampire.”

  “But you can become a leopard?” The incredible feat was nearly impossible to believe, even though she had witnessed it with her own eyes.

  “I can become the mouse scampering across the field, the eagle soaring high in the sky. I can be the mist, the fog, lightning and thunder, a part of the atmosphere itself. But I am always Darius—the one who has vowed to protect you.”

  Tempest shook her head. “This isn’t possible, Darius. Are you sure I didn’t fall and hit my head or something? Maybe we both ate a weird mushroom, and we’re on some psychedelic trip together. This isn’t possible.”

  “I can assure you, I have done this all my life. And I have existed nearly a thousand years.”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “One weird thing at a time. I’m hearing this stuff, but my brain is refusing to process it.”

  “Do you know I would not harm you, Tempest? Do you know that much?” he asked insistently, his black gaze drifting over her face like fog.

  In her deepest soul, beyond the human workings of her brain, Tempest knew it was the only certainty she had. Darius would not hurt her. She nodded slowly and saw relief light his eyes for a moment. Then he sobered again.

  “I did not mean to expose you to the others’ appetites. In truth, it did not occur to me that any would use you for such a thing when you were under our protection. I inadvertently subjected you to a terrible moment, but in truth, you were not in any danger. In Barack’s defense, he likely thought he could manipulate your memories, as is generally easy to do with human prey, but he would not have harmed or killed you, simply fed, as, smelling my scent on you, he assumed I had. Please accept my apology.”

  His voice wrapped itself around her and found its way into her heart.

  She sighed softly and tried not to think too much about the word

  prey.

  “You know what, Darius? None of it matters. I don’t have to understand, because I can’t do this. You can see that now, can’t you? I have no way to deal with this. It’s better if I just get out now.”

  His black eyes never once blinked, never left her face. She found her heart beating faster, threatened in some elemental way she didn’t understand. “It isn’t as if I would ever say anything to anyone. They’d lock me up if I did. You know you don’t have to worry.”

  His black eyes were merciless, boring into her deeper and deeper until they penetrated her soul. She found it difficult to breathe. “Darius, you know I’m right. You have to know. We aren’t two different races trying to find some common ground. We’re two different species.”

  “I need you.”

  He said the words so quietly that she barely heard them. He made the statement starkly, utterly without embellishment. There was no mental push, no other form of persuasion. Still, the way he said it was like an arrow piercing her heart. She had no defense against those three words. No way to combat the truth of them. The truth she heard in his voice.

  She stared at him for a long moment; then, without warning, she picked up and flung a handful of leaves at him. “You don’t play fair, Darius. You really don’t. You
have those eyes and that voice, and now you go and say something like that.”

  A slow smile softened the hard edge of his mouth. “I knew you liked my eyes.” He sounded immensely satisfied. He didn’t appear to move, but all at once he was towering over her, his body close enough to share its warmth. His hand found her throat, and his palm lay still so that her pulse beat into its center.

  “I didn’t say I liked your eyes,” she corrected. “I think they should be declared illegal. They’re sinful.” She lifted her chin belligerently at him, trying to hold her ground against something she didn’t even understand.

  “I meant my apology, honey. I will never place you in such a position again. I will make certain the others are aware you are under my personal protection at all times.” Darius bent his dark head toward hers, drawn to the seduction of her velvet lips.

  Tempest’s breath caught in her throat, and she shrank back against the tree trunk and held up her palms to push against the hard wall of his chest. “I’m thinking maybe we shouldn’t do this. It’s safer, Darius, really, for both of us to just not touch.”

  His smile climbed to his eyes, spreading heat through her body. “Safer? Is that what you think? It is always far safer to do what I wish.”

  He hadn’t moved, not a single inch, despite the pressure she was putting on his chest. Tempest sighed softly. “You would say that. Personally, Darius, I’m at the point where I might run screaming into the forest, or doubt my own sanity and have myself committed. Don’t push me any harder right now.”

  “Do you think you could stand on your own without the tree trunk supporting you?” Amusement tinged his voice.

  Tempest patted the tree trunk, reluctant to find out. She was quite proud of the showing she’d made so far. No fainting. No hysterics. None of the things a sane woman would do. But she didn’t want to fall on her face. Her long lashes swept down for a moment. Darius easily read the faint self-mocking humor mixed with concern on her transparent face, the sudden determination just before she shifted, ducking beneath his arm to stand on her own. He liked that, her sense of humor, her ability to laugh at herself in the most extreme situations.