Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6) Page 9

His fingers tangled in her hair. “There are no other women. There have been no other women. You belong to me. Only you.”

  She wasn’t certain she believed he’d had no other women, but she found she wanted it to be true. “Gee, do I feel lucky,” she said. “It’s not every day I get bossed around by a vam—Carpathian. I’ve been on my own and taking care of myself for as long as I can remember, Darius, and I like it that way.”

  His hand had slipped to the nape of her neck, his attention caught by the softness of her skin. “It seems to me you have not done a particularly good job of it. Face it: You need me.”

  She batted his hand away, afraid of the fire pooling low in her body. He wasn’t safe. Nothing about him was safe, not even casual conversation. “I don’t need anyone.”

  His black eyes burned over her face, hard possession in the set of his mouth. “Then you will learn to do so, will you not?”

  Her heart jumped at the soft, warning note in his voice. He could sound so menacing when he chose. Fear flickered in the depths of her eyes, and her green gaze skittered away from his dark one. “Darius, I really am afraid of you.” The admission came out under her breath.

  For a moment she was certain he hadn’t heard her, but then his hand stilled on the nape of her neck, hot and possessive. “I know you are, Tempest, but there is no need for it, and you will get over it.”

  A flutter of anger gave her courage. “Don’t be so certain I’ll just let you take over my life.”

  “If you feel you can do no other than attempt to defy me, by all means, you are welcome to do so, but I warn you, I am not an easy man to cross.” His voice was velvet soft, and all the more menacing because of it. There was a hard strength in his fingers as they circled her soft throat.

  “Since I’m already afraid of you, that isn’t exactly news, Darius,” she said, her heart thumping in rhythm to her words. “It isn’t as if I haven’t been afraid before.

  It isn’t exactly a new experience for me. But I’ve always managed.” She tilted her chin defiantly.

  Darius bent his head close, his eyes like glinting ice. “You are afraid of the loss of freedom, Tempest, not of me. You are afraid of the untamed passion in you that rises up to meet the passion in me. It is that, not me, that you fear.”

  She pushed at the wall of his chest with both hands. He didn’t budge. “Well, thank you very much for that analysis,” she snapped, all at once stormy. “What would the others think if I told them you were acting this way?” she challenged. “Are they so far under your thumb that they’d help you?”

  He shrugged with casual, fluid grace, reminiscent of a leopard stretching. “It would not matter to me one way or the other. It might break up our family, it might cause bloodshed, but in the end, the outcome would be the same. I will not give you up, Tempest.”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said rudely, exasperated with him. “There isn’t much to like about me once you get to know me. I’m always in trouble; it just happens. I’ll make you crazy.”

  His hand closed over her fragile wrist, his thumb finding her pulse unerringly. “You already make me crazy,” he replied softly. “You will do as I say soon enough, and then I will not have to worry so much.”

  “It isn’t going to happen in this lifetime,” she announced, glaring at him. “And as I have only this one, you’re in for a big disappointment.”

  His laughter was low and amused, rife with that mocking male superiority that said she would be easy enough to handle. “Come on, honey. The others will be rising soon. We have miles to travel this night to stay on schedule. The cats will need to feed before we go.” He did not add that all of his family would have to do the same. He sensed her deep fear that he wanted her to use for sustenance, that perhaps he intended the rest of them to use her, also. He wanted to reassure her but knew mere words would not help.

  He reached down and pulled her to her feet. She was so unexpectedly light for a woman with such an iron will, and he was so enormously strong, he felt he might fling her into the sky if he wasn’t careful.

  The moment she was standing, she jerked away, wiping her palms on her jeans, glaring at him. He might rule everyone around him, but she wasn’t about to stand for his nonsense. She wasn’t going to become a food supply for anyone. And she certainly wasn’t going to have some male fantasy figure dominating her life. She might have a penchant for trouble, but she wasn’t stupid.

  Darius glanced down at her transparent, expressive little face as they walked back toward the camp. She could not hide her thoughts from him anymore, now that he realized the differences in her mind. His earlier troubles served him right for being so complacent and sure of himself in his dealings with her. She was an unusual mortal, yet he hadn’t considered that he would have to delve deeper than he normally would. Aside from thinking too much, Tempest had an interesting mind, a way of focusing in on one thing only and blocking out everything else.

  She stumbled a little, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders despite her little shrug of retreat. By nature, Tempest was accepting of others. She also understood the way animals reasoned, their survival instincts. So it would require her only a step or two to accept the Carpathian way of life.

  Darius knew she could accept it as long as it didn’t encroach on

  her

  way of life. Tempest lived like a nomad. That was essentially the same way his group lived, but she preferred a solitary existence. She understood an animal’s way of life, had strong survival instincts herself, but she had less understanding of people and why they did the things they did. Growing up in a crack house, with mothers selling their children for drugs, selling their own souls for the drugs, she had decided at an early age that she wanted little to do with people, and nothing had happened since to change her mind.

  Rusti inched away from the warmth of Darius’s body. She didn’t like the way he made her feel, that out-of-control rush of hungry need. He was too dangerous, too powerful, far too used to getting his way in all things. She liked her quiet, independent life. Solitude suited her. The last thing she needed was to be caught up in Darius’s bizarre troupe of followers.

  She sighed, unaware that she did so. She couldn’t stay with the Dark Troubadors. The sanctuary they had seemed to offer was rapidly turning into something she wasn’t equipped to handle.

  Darius glanced down at her bent head, the faraway, pensive look on her face, the sadness reflected in her large eyes. He laced his fingers through hers. “There is no need to worry so much, honey. I have sworn to protect and care for you. I do not take such oaths lightly.”

  “This isn’t exactly something a person can prepare herself for, Darius. Even if you’re a... a Carpathian rather than a vampire, whatever you are isn’t altogether human. I know that when you communicate mentally with me.”

  “Are you so certain that

  you

  are completely human? When I merge my mind with yours, I observe brain patterns different from those of ordinary mortals.”

  She winced, looking as if he’d struck her. “I know I’m different. Believe me, you aren’t telling me anything I haven’t heard before. You can’t call me anything I haven’t already been called. Freak. Mutation. Frigid. You name it, I’ve heard it.”

  Darius stopped abruptly, forcing Tempest to do the same. He brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth. “I did not mean it that way. I admire what you are. If either of us is a ‘mutation’ from the norm, Tempest, it is me, not you. I am in no way human. I am an immortal. And I can assure you that you are neither a freak nor frigid. Your heart and soul were simply waiting for mine. Not everyone can hand themselves over to just anyone. A few know that the giving of the treasure of one’s body, one’s intimacy, is sacred, meant solely for the one they were made for, their other half. Perhaps those who taunted you were jealous of that knowledge in you because they were in far too much of a hurry to wait or because they held themselves too cheap.”

  Her long lashes hid her emerald eyes. “I’m no
t a virgin, Darius.”

  “Because some man forced himself on you?”

  “I think you have a false impression of me. I’m no angel, Darius. I’ve stolen cars, souped them up, gone for joy rides. I’ve always rebelled against so-called authority figures, probably because the ones I knew left a bad taste in my mouth. It always amazes me how the most self-righteous people, the ones forever preaching and pointing fingers at others, often do the most underhanded and dishonest things. Once I could support myself, I came up with my own code of honor, and that’s what I live by. But I’m no saint, and I never have been. The places I come from don’t breed saints.”

  Darius was becoming familiar with every nuance of her voice. She sounded slightly sad, accepting of her brutalizing childhood but angry with herself for trusting others during those terrible years. Trusting them and having them let her down. That was why she preferred the solitary existence she had chosen, and he could sense her determination not to give it up, despite her need to. The job as mechanic to their traveling band had represented the ability to support herself and be free from the demands of intimate, prolonged contact with other people. He was taking that away from her.

  “Perhaps it would be easier on you if I removed your memories of what I am. I could do it properly, Tempest,” he offered. He found himself reluctant to do so, however. Somehow he wanted her to accept him as he was.

  She shook her head adamantly. “No. If you did something like that, I would never be able to trust anything you said or did.”

  “You wouldn’t remember, and it would take away your unnecessary fears. It does not make sense to me that you should remain afraid of us when we regard you as family,” he said reasonably.

  “No, don’t do that to me,” she insisted.

  For a moment his dangerously predatory eyes moved over her face, a red flame flickering in their depths, reminding her of a wolf, a relentless hunter. What did she know of him? Only that he was not human but “Carpathian,” allegedly immortal. And that he believed he had a right to her. She knew little of the unusual powers and properties he’d mentioned, but she felt them radiate out of his every pore. She could be lulled into a false sense of security because he often treated her gently, even tenderly.

  But Darius was first and foremost a predator, yet with all the cunning and intellect of a human. He was dark, mysterious, dangerous, powerful, and very, very sensual It was a formidable combination. Tempest nearly groaned aloud. How was she going to get out of this mess? His thumb was feathering over her knuckles, sending darts of fire racing through her bloodstream. Why did she have to be attracted to him? Especially if he was more beast than man? Was it because he was the first male who had ever treated her with such care? Was it because he was so utterly lonely and in need?

  “Stop thinking so much, Tempest,” he repeated softly a hint of laughter in his velvet voice. “You are making things seem worse than they are.” He was becoming tempted to remove her memories despite her reluctance just to ease her fears, yet he was selfish enough to want her to know what he was and have the courage to stay with him anyway.

  “Right,” she groused, “like that could happen.”

  Darius enjoyed the way she fit beneath his shoulder He even enjoyed the way she defied him. He was aware that she had no idea of the power he wielded, the things he was capable of doing, but he felt fully alive with her The wind rushed over them, blowing her soft hair around her face. He heard the rustle in the trees as the leaves swayed to the music of the breeze. He found himself smiling for no reason, when it had been many centuries since he had smiled at all. He had forgotten the feeling of happiness. Here, in the trees, with the night upon them, the wind calling to him, wild and free, and Tempest tucked beneath his shoulder, he felt both happiness and a sense of belonging.

  Rusti glanced up at Darius, a little overwhelmed that she was acting as if all was normal when she should have been running screaming into the sunset. His face was a sensual work of art, carved with harsh yet beautiful lines If she had to describe him to someone else, she wasn’t certain what she would say. He was power personified. Danger personified. And he was so incredibly sexy. Mesmerizingly so.

  She closed her eyes. Well, that settled it, then. She couldn’t look at him. She went up in flames every time she did. “Why couldn’t you be a nice, ordinary man?”

  “What is ordinary?” he asked, amused.

  “You didn’t have to have those eyes,” she accused, flashing a glare at him. “Your eyes should be outlawed.”

  Warmth flowed into his heart, a curious, melting sensation. “So you like my eyes.”

  Her long lashes instantly veiled her expression. “I didn’t say that. You’re conceited, Darius—that’s one of your biggest problems. You’re arrogant and conceited. Why would I like your eyes?”

  He laughed softly. “You like my eyes.”

  She refused to give him the satisfaction of agreeing. The campsite was just ahead through the trees, and she could hear the laughter of the others. Desari’s musical voice was distinctive. It was soft and dreamy, even more mesmerizing than the others’. Tempest had noticed immediately the same hypnotic quality in Darius’s voice.

  “Everyone should stop following your orders, Darius,” she scolded, her green eyes peeping up at him through long lashes. “It’s the only possible way to save you. No one ever questions you.”

  “Perhaps because they trust me to know what is right,” he said softly, gently.

  She watched him inhale, dragging the night scents into his lungs, and knew instinctively that he was scanning the area, testing the campsite, ensuring to his satisfaction that it was safe. As they emerged through the thick stand of trees into the open, where the others waited, she felt the impact of several pairs of eyes on her. She stopped, her teeth sinking into her lower lip her heart somersaulting alarmingly. She hated being the center of attention.

  Darius stepped in front of her, easily blocking her small body from sight. He bent close to her. “Go shower The others need to hunt this night before we leave. The cats can feed, then we will split up and meet at the next campsite. You will ride with me.”

  She wanted to argue with that, but more, she wanted to be away from the others, away from their inquisitive stares. Wordlessly, she turned around and hurried to the motor home. It felt like a sanctuary, as if it was already her home.

  She took her time in the shower, enjoying the hot water cascading over her skin. It was difficult to close her mind to thoughts of Darius, but it was the only safe thing to do. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stay long with him always around, but if she could hang in long enough to get across the country, maybe things would work out. And it was, after all, Desari who had hired her, putting her on a generous salary. Desari would give her the money the minute she asked for it; she could tell that Darius’s sister was like that.

  When she had gathered enough courage to quit hiding in the bus and face the group, the campsite appeared empty. A slight noise revised her first impression. Warily she made her way to the small red car. The man peering into the open hood was the one who had been driving the night before.

  At the time she had barely glanced at him. Now studying him, she realized he was, typical of the other band members, incredibly handsome. He had long dark hair, a mischievous look around his dark eyes, and his mouth had a sultry, moody kind of sexiness. She could easily see that this Troubador must be a hit with females of every age on the tour.

  He looked up and grinned at her. “So, we meet at last, Tempest Trine. I am Barack. I was beginning to feel left out. Darius, Desari, Julian, and Syndil all speak highly of you. I figured they must have told you I was the group’s bad boy and that you were avoiding me as a result.”

  Tempest found herself smiling. How could she not? Her natural wariness dictated that she keep her distance from him, but his ready grin was contagious. “No one warned me, but I can see they should have.”

  He patted the car lovingly. “What did you do to make her purr li
ke this?” There was genuine interest in his voice. “I turned on the engine, and she sounded so happy to see me.”

  “Don’t you work on cars? You sure can drive them.”

  Barack shook his head. “I keep thinking I’ll get around to studying it, but there are always so many things to get in the way.”

  “That’s unusual,” Tempest said before she could censor her words. “Normally a serious driver and auto enthusiast like you is interested in what’s below the hood.” She wanted to kick herself for the inane remark. Like Darius, Barack probably slept during the day and used other “powers” at night. She made herself look casually away. “Where are the cats? I haven’t seen them in a while.”

  “Feeding. We have to hit the road tonight, so Darius is allowing them to hunt, as is their right.” Barack ran his gaze appreciatively over the small redhead. She was different from other mortal females. He knew she was different, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly how.

  But he could hear her heart beating strongly, the ebb and flow of blood in her veins. Hunger was ever present, gnawing at his insides. Like the others, he should have gone to the campground only a few miles away and fed, but checking out the newly tuned car had intrigued him.

  “Come over here, Tempest.” His voice was low and compelling. He smiled, a flash of white teeth. “Show me what you did to the engine.” His hunger was growing as he listened to the rush of blood in her veins.

  Rusti didn’t like his smile now, didn’t like the way he was watching her. She glanced around. “I have to pack my tools and things, get ready to leave. I can show you later.”

  Shock registered on his handsome face, complete amazement. It occurred to Rusti that no one had ever turned Barack down before. There must have been a hidden compulsion in his voice she had failed to respond to. More and more she realized she was in over her head. If Darius had been the only one she had to deal with, maybe she could have done so successfully—at least long enough to get her across country. But they were all like him. She began backing away.