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- Christine Feehan
- Dark Fire
- Page 11
The night was the most incredibly beautiful thing Tempest had ever seen. It was clear and slightly cold, and overhead thousands of tiny stars were trying to outsparkle each other. She inhaled the scent of pine. A slight breeze carried the hint of wildflowers to her. Mist off the falls cleaned the air around them. She wanted to run barefoot through the forest and revel in the beauty of nature. For a moment she even forgot Darius as she raised her arms toward the moon, a silent offering of joy. Darius watched her face, felt the happiness consuming her. Tempest focused on whatever she was doing at the moment, taking it into her mind and body and enjoying it to the fullest. She seemed to know how to really live. Was it because she had had so little joy in her lifetime? Was. it because she had fought so hard simply to survive? He touched her mind, a silent, watchful shadow hovering in the background, that he might share the intensity of the moment with her.
And he did. He saw it all. Each separate, vivid detail of wonder. The exquisite beauty of the leaves bathed in silver light. The individual drops of mist sparkling like diamonds in the air around the waterfall. The prisms of color flowing from the frothy cascade. Bats wheeling and dipping at myriad insects. Darius could even see himself tall and powerful, intimidating, masculine. His long hair flowed to his broad shoulders, and his mouth was... He brought himself up short, a smile hovering close. She definitely liked his mouth.
Tempest thumped him hard in the chest. "Get that smug smirk off your face. I know exactly what you're thinking."
His hand came up beneath hers and trapped her small clenched fist against his chest. "I notice you do not attempt to deny it."
Her green eyes sparkled a teasing challenge. "Why should I? I have good taste. Most of the time," she added pointedly.
He growled low in his throat, a sound meant to intimidate her, but instead she laughed. "Down, boy. Anyone with your arrogance can take a little bit of ribbing." As he brought her hand to his mouth and nipped her knuckles menacingly, her laughter changed to an abrupt squeal of alarm.
"Do not count on it," he cautioned, his white teeth gleaming like a predator's. "I am like any man. I expect the woman I love to adore me and think me perfect."
She gave an inelegant snort. "You'll have a long way for that one."
His black eyes, so compelling, burned over her face. "I do not think it will be so long, honey."
"Go find yourself food. We have to meet the others," Tempest said a little desperately. He could not look at her that way. He just couldn't.
"And if I go, what will you do for me?" he prompted, rubbing her knuckles along his shadowed jaw. The sensation sent dark fire racing through her blood.
"I'll be a good little girl and wait right here for you." She made a face at him. "Don't worry so much, Darius. I'm not really the adventurous type."
He groaned at the blatant lie. "My heart could not take it if you were any more adventurous." His black eyes pinned her. "Obey me in this, Tempest. I do not want to come back and find you hang-gliding off another cliff."
She rolled her eyes. "What trouble can I possibly get into up here? No one's around for miles. Really, Darius, you're becoming totally paranoid." She strode to a boulder with a flat top. "I'll just sit here and contemplate nature until you return."
"The other alternative is for me to tie you to a tree," he mused, straight-faced. "Try it," she dared him, green eyes flashing fire.
"Do not tempt me," he shot back, meaning it. He examined the boulder for himself. With Tempest, anything was bound to happen. A snake under the rock, a stick of dynamite blowing it up.
Tempest laughed at him. "Go away. Do you have any idea how pale you are? I'm afraid in a minute you'll decide that I'm your midnight snack." Swinging one crossed leg back and forth, feigning indifference, she blinked up at him, wishing she could take back the words. She didn't want to give him any ideas. "Do have any idea how truly bizarre all this is?"
He loomed over her, tall and enormously strong. "I only know you'd better be sitting right here when I get back." He made it an order. No velvet over iron this time. Just pure iron. He said it between his teeth to show her he meant business.
Tempest smiled up at him, all innocence. "I can't think what else I would possibly do."
He kissed her then because she was so damned tempting that he thought he might incinerate if he didn't. Her mouth was incredibly soft and pliant, such a mixture of sweet fire and hot honey that he had trouble pulling away. Hunger was beating at him to the extent that he was finding it difficult not to nuzzle her throat and seek the taste of her, rich and hot, flowing into his body. He felt his fangs lengthening at the thought and quickly jerked away. His restless sleep and long night of sexual activities had drained his control. He needed to feed.
One moment Darius was kissing her as if he would never let her go, the next he was gone, just disappeared. In his place was a trailing vapor of mist, streaking away from her toward deeper woods. She watched the cometlike phenomenon almost idly, not certain if it was really Darius or some strange effect created by the lofty atmosphere and the waterfall. It was beautiful, a prism of colors and lights flickering like countless fireflies through the trees. She wondered if he had scented prey, and she shivered at the choice of words that had come to her mind.
She inhaled then, taking the scents of the night into her lungs. It was amazing what tales the various smells could provide. Darius was right; it was only a matter of holding oneself very still and listening with one's entire being. Focusing. It was almost overwhelming. The trees, the water, the bats, the animals. She patted the boulder, liking that it felt so solid. She felt as if Darius had awakened her and brought her up from the very bowels of the earth to rediscover the beauty of nature.
Something slightly off-key inserted itself into her magical world, but it was so slow, so insidious, she barely noticed it. Everything around her was so exciting, seen through new eyes, a true awakening. The color of the water particularly captured her fascination, the way the wind played with the surface, tugging and teasing it into a frothy foam. But the nagging intrusion was persistent, a mournful note, a jangle, as if something was out of step with the rightness of all she was seeing.
Tempest frowned and rubbed her forehead. It began aching, throbbing, getting worse as she sat still. She stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and very carefully took stock of her surroundings, trying to see without the vivid colors and details, to perceive the reality around her.
Her foot began aching, and she slipped off her shoe and knelt to rub the sole. But the pain wasn't where she had hurt herself. It was deep within the tissues, and she knew it wasn't her pain; she was feeling the echo of something or someone hurting. A sudden stillness seemed to sink into the forest, quieting all wildlife. She heard the rush of wings and thought she understood the sudden silence. An owl hunting would keep mice and small animals cowering in their snug homes. Yet the bats remained busy with the insects above her head. Thoughtfully she replaced her shoe and straightened.
A thin ribbon of a deer trail led into the straggly timberline. She wandered over to it, something pulling her in that direction. She wouldn't go far; she just wanted to find the jarring note intruding on the beauty of nature. The feeling persisted even as she followed the minimal trail. At times it led into thickets of bushes and brambles. She sensed the presence of rabbits crouched below the thorns. They remained unmoving, only their whiskers twitching.
The new intensity of nature's colors and details began to overlap her need to hunt down the mournful sound seeping into her brain. She found herself sneaking glances at the starlit sky and occasionally turning in full circles to admire the forest. Ferns were becoming taller as she walked deeper into the interior. Moss covered the tree trunks rising skyward. She touched the bark of one and was in awe at the complex blend of textures.
It occurred to her that her senses were so heightened that no mind-altering drug could ever compare. She wandered away from the trail for a moment so she could study an unusual rock formation. The boulders were covered on one side with lichen and tiny life forms, minute insects creating their own world. Tempest glanced up at the sky again, amazed that she could see so clearly even within the deep shadows of the trees.
She was moving into thicker woods, where it was much darker, yet she could see quite well, her eyesight as acute as her hearing. She turned the focus of her newfound senses inward. Her stomach was slightly upset. She felt full; the thought of food made her slightly sick, yet she was thirsty. She became aware of the sound of the stream bubbling happily toward the waterfall. She angled toward the water, pushing her way through the brush.
As she knelt at the edge of the stream, she became aware of the discordant note again. It was louder this time, jarring her, making her head hurt. Somewhere close by something wasn't right. Something was in pain.
She dipped her hand in the running water and brought it to her parched mouth. Her mind was tuning itself to Darius's, automatically seeking him. She needed the contact. Tempest didn't know why, but if she didn't reach for him, find him, just for a moment, she knew she would be terrified. She needed him.
The idea of needing him alarmed her, but, unerringly, her mind had already found his. Giving it the lightest of touches, she was no more than a faint shadow sliding in, seeking the comfort of knowing he was alive and well, that he was sating his voracious hunger. Her heart pounded wildly for a moment. She withdrew immediately, annoyed with herself for needing him, annoyed that her first thought had been to wonder if he was seeking sustenance from a woman. She should have been concerned for his prey, not jealous of it, however momentarily.
Tempest blinked and refocused. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Nothing looked familiar. Where was the deer trail? She would follow it back to the boulder where she had promised to wait. "You did it again, Rusti," she chided herself under her breath, worried that Darius might touch her mind and feel her confusion. Slowly she straightened and took a good look around.
There was no deer trail in sight. "Why have you no sense of direction?" she muttered to herself, not wanting Darius to pick up her unspoken thoughts. She wasn't going to live this one down unless she could find her way back before he returned. She decided to follow the stream. She knew it ended at the falls several feet above the little clearing overlooking the cliffs. If she came out above the falls, she could climb down to the clearing. It all made perfect sense.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she began to walk briskly along the edge of the rapidly moving stream. The problem became apparent at once. The stream doubled back in several places, seeming to meander through the thickest parts of the forest. Brambles tore at her jeans, and the vegetation around her seemed to loom to jungle proportions.
As she moved steadily forward, the mournful note that had set her off in the first place seemed to increase. She knew she was close to whatever it was.
An animal in pain. She knew it with sudden clarity. A large animal, and it was suffering terribly. It was wounded, the laceration infected, and the paw hurt when pressed onto the ground as it attempted to walk. It was broadcasting loudly, the vibrations in the night air finding her a ready recipient.
It wasn't as if the animal was making actual noise; it was more that Tempest had always been able to communicate with animals, and she could hear, in her head, a silent scream of pain. She tried to ignore it, even took several more steps along the bank of the stream, but the animal's distress level was overwhelming. "I can't just leave the darn thing," she argued. "It could be caught in a trap. One of those awful steel things that crush an animal's leg and make it die a hideous death. I'd be as guilty as whoever put the stupid trap out in the first place." She was already turning back, resolutely following the vibrations in her head.
She had no actual warning that she was practically on top of the animal until she parted some bushes and saw a large mountain lion crouched above her on a rocky ledge. Its yellow eyes stared down at her with malevolence. The cat was heavily muscled, a bit on the thin side, and broadcasting as much hunger as pain. Why hadn't she caught that before?
Tempest sank her teeth into her lower lip in agitation. Okay. This was it. The last straw. She was going to be in so much trouble when Darius found out about this one. The cougar was staring at her, frozen in place, only the tip of its tail flicking back and forth. Tempest thought about running, but she knew the animal would definitely attack her if she was that stupid. She reached for the cat's mind.
Hunger. Anger. The cougar was moody and in pain. There was something in its paw, something sticking in and hurting each time it tried to hunt. The cat had tried to bite and gnaw it out but had been unsuccessful. The cat had not eaten in several days, and hunger was riding it hard. And now it was staring at easy prey with obvious satisfaction.
Tempest tried to soothe the cougar, tried to send the impression that she would help. She could remove the painful thorn; she could provide fresh meat. The yellow eyes continued to stare at her, an eerie portent of death. Tempest forced her mind away from the possibility of an attack and continued to send impressions of aid to the cat. She kept the fear from her mind so the animal would not leap at her.
The cougar shook its head, puzzled. Tempest sensed confusion, a need to feed, yet the animal found her strange, unfamiliar, perplexing. The mountain lion needed the thorn out, and Tempest concentrated on that. Images of the thorn removed, the paw healed. If she didn't help the creature, it would remain unable to hunt, and it would perish. The cougar was young, a female; she could reproduce. Tempest knew the cat was extremely dangerous; hunger and pain could force any animal to strike out. But it just wasn't in her to walk away without trying to help. She had managed to control large dogs. Once a tiger at a zoo had bonded with her.
She stood quietly, watching the animal closely for signs of acceptance. She had infinite patience. Hers was a God-given gift, and she believed in it implicitly. Others might call her a freak, but she knew she could help animals, really help them at times like this. She spoke quietly, soothingly in her mind, sending images of the thorn out, the paw feeling so much better. She swamped the cat with the images, kept the animal off balance.
Most cats were curious by nature, and this big one was no different. It snarled silently, but the resolve in its head to kill and feed instantly was fading. It wanted the terrible thorn out, the pain to be gone. Tempest pressed her advantage, sought to expand her mental images and vibrations of goodwill. The cat became more relaxed, the yellow eyes squinting, not so fixed and merciless.
Tempest allowed herself to breathe more deeply and moved cautiously closer, her gaze flicking to the sore paw. It was quite swollen and pustulent. "Poor baby," she crooned softly. "We need to take that thing out of there for you." All the while she built the images of the cat accepting her extracting the thorn. "It might hurt, so I'm thinking we should decide up front that you won't lose your mind and eat me. In the long run, it would be far better for you if you just let me take the thing out." She was quite close now, close enough to touch the animal.
The wound was worse than she first thought; infection had really taken hold. It was possible she couldn't help the poor thing. Tempest sighed. She didn't want to give up. There was always a chance that if she could remove the foreign object embedded so deeply in the paw, the cat might survive. It was more accepting of her, curious that she could communicate, that she understood its pain and hunger, overcoming, for the moment, its desire and need to eat.
Deliberately Tempest shifted her focus, instinctively knowing that when the cougar felt the intense pain as she removed the object, it would want to lash out at whatever was closest. She amplified its feelings of curiosity. "Unfortunately, baby, that's me. Don't you think I'm rather interesting? You haven't seen too many like me around, have you?" Tempest crooned softly. Taking a deep breath, she bent her head to examine the vicious wound, for the first time trusting to luck as she took her eyes off the face of the cat.
Terror.
Sheer, unadulterated terror. There was no other word to describe his emotion. Darius could feel his heart pounding so hard that it was in danger of exploding out of his chest. He had left Tempest sitting peacefully on a boulder by the waterfall. Why had he expected her to be sitting there still? Into the terror crept the realization that he hadn't really expected it. He knew her too well. Trouble followed her around. No, it was more than that. She sought it out.
Anger. Black and terrible. A ferocious wave of rage that threatened to consume him. He fought it down and remained very still, becoming a part of the night itself, as only he could do. His hot inner gaze never left the mountain lion, watching for the first sign of aggression. He knew how fast a cougar could move. Injured, this one was even more dangerous. He could kill it from where he stood. He could seize control of the animal, hold it helpless while she worked. He had options. He was even fast enough that he could remove Tempest from danger long before she or the lion knew he was even close. He did none of those things. Darius listened to her voice. Soft. Soothing. Its style reminiscent of the healer's chant. She was actually talking the cougar into allowing her to aid it.
Pride.
It welled up in him out of nowhere. Sheer pride. She was frightened by the situation, just as she was frightened by his power, by his wild, untamed nature. Yet she was determined to save the beast. Darius was in her mind, a dark shadow staying still and quiet so he didn't distract her, yet he was there, and her focus was absolute. She was determined to give the cat a chance at survival.
Something in him he hadn't known existed, something long buried or forgotten, welled up, strong and overwhelming. The emotion was so intense that he shook with the revelation.
Love.
If he had not loved her for herself before, he knew he did now. He had walked through his barren existence feeling no real meaning other than to protect and preserve his little family. She had given him deeper purpose and life, a joyful reason to move through the world, to exist. He admired her courage even as he silently swore she would never defy him again, never again place herself in danger this way.
He admired her. The revelation was amazing to him. He admired the way she went through life accepting people as they were without judgment, without expectations. He admired her tremendous courage, her sense of humor. What was the best way to help her? Darius studied the situation carefully. The cougar was definitely unpredictable, afraid, in pain, and hungry. Immediately Darius begin to add his mental strength to Tempest's. It gave her additional control over the beast.
When I remove the thorn, Darius, can you rid the poor thing of the infection!
Despite the fact that she was holding rigid control of the animal, her voice was soft but firm in his mind.
He should have known she would sense his presence immediately. The lightest of his touches brought her attention. She was tuned to him now, her mind and body, her heart and soul. He had bound them together. She could find him much more easily than before. And she was sensitive, far more so than most humans he had come into contact with. Still, she held her focus on the injured animal. She was amazing.
Heal an animal?
He would do it because she asked it of him, because he knew that if he did not, she would attempt to find another way to heal the cougar. You do not need me for this, he whispered softly, realizing it was true. She was capable of holding the pain-wracked creature in check while she worked on it. He could feel the strength in her, the determination, and it was her own.
Tempest didn't look around to see Darius; she knew instinctively he was there. A small smile touched her mouth, revealing the intriguing little dimple that always drove him wild. She could feel his strength of will pouring into hers, doubling her control. It should have made her feel less confident in herself, but Tempest always knew when she had an animal in the palm of her hand. This cougar was receptive, and she laid a hand on its leg to allow it to get used to the feel of her.
She poured her reassurance into the mountain lion as she examined the vicious wound. The cat trembled beneath her ministrations, its fur darkening to a muddy brown. She breathed for it, for both of them, as she dug for the offending thorn. It was buried deep, the entire area swollen and angry-looking. It was more difficult to assert her domination over the cougar as she caught the end of the thick silver and began to extract it.
Darius watched the cat closely, its facial expression and the images in its mind. It wanted to strike out, end the terrible pain, but Tempest was in command. She pulled the thick thorn, a good inch in length and tapering to a nasty point, out of the paw. The cougar shook, howled, but remained still. Darius couldn't help himself. Even though he knew Tempest was in complete control, he stilled the beast, capturing its mind and holding it helpless with his merciless control.
Tempest glanced at him once, but she didn't protest. She could feel Darius's driving need to protect her. It would have been the same as asking him to put a gun to her head to ask him to back off and leave her to her task alone. She was grateful when he focused on the cougar's paw and used his energy to draw out the poison until it boiled up and exploded out of the ugly wound. Tempest watched it run down the cat's fur into the earth.
Back off now, Tempest, Darius commanded firmly. This was as much as his heart could take.
She's very hungry. Can you find her some game? Back off, Tempest.
He bit the words out, a crisp, imperious order.
Tempest rolled her eyes in exasperation. The man was going to drive her crazy. She reluctantly backed away from the animal, very slowly, careful not to trigger the instinct to pounce in the cat. Try
not to sound so much like the king of the castle. It's very annoying.
She slipped into the brush and began to amble along the trail toward the top of the falls. Darius was summoning an old doe for the cougar. The animal was injured, its mouth filled with sores, rendering it unable to eat. She was glad he had managed to find something that was suffering rather than a young, healthy animal.
"Where are you going?" Darius materialized beside her, his stride slowing to match her shorter one. His body barely brushed hers, yet she was immediately, acutely aware of him.
"Back to the falls. Where do you think?"
Darius shook his head. "I think I am going to get you a compass."
Tempest stopped abruptly, her smile mischievous. "I never quite got the hang of reading one. I mean, I know the needle points north and all, but where does that get you? I never know what's to the north."
His eyebrows shot up. "A map?" She was already shaking her head, her smile widening to a heart-stopping grin. "You cannot read a map?" He groaned. "Of course you cannot read a map. What was I thinking?" His hand found her elbow. "You are heading away from the falls, Tempest."
"I can't be. I'm following the stream," she pointed out with her faintly haughty air. Again one eyebrow shot up. He glanced around them. "The stream?" She shrugged. "It's around here somewhere."
Darius burst out laughing, his arm circling her shoulders. "It is a very good thing you have me as your keeper."
Her green eyes glinted at him. The night stars seemed to get caught there, sparkled and glowed. "So you say."
His mouth found hers, a little roughly, a little tenderly, somewhere between laughter and a blatant brand. She melted into him, accepting his warring emotions. Her arms crept around his neck, her body, soft and pliant, pressed against his.
Darius simply lifted her, his mouth fastened to hers. "I must get you to the others this night. You need food."
The words were whispered into her mouth, the sensation warm and sensual, though Tempest wasn't the least hungry.
But already she could feel the change overcoming him. It started first in his mind. She saw the vivid image. It was breathtaking, real, each individual feather perfect. Darius lifted his head, breaking the kiss reluctantly as his body began to shape-shift. She watched in awe, still amazed that he could actually do such a thing. Through it all her mind stayed merged with his so that she could examine his emotions.
The sense of freedom was overwhelming. The powerful wings stretched a good six feet. Climb onto my back.
Tempest shook her head, suddenly afraid of hurting him. "Darius, you're a bird. I'm too heavy for you to carry."
I refuse to argue with you.
She caught the unspoken threat. It was in his mind. He would force her compliance. Despite the fact that he was a bird, Darius was as powerful as ever.
"You remind me of a spoiled little boy, always having to have your own way," she sniped indignantly. But she was obeying him, not daring to take the chance that he might impose his will on her. Certain things she could not accept. Forced compliance was definitely one of them.
The owl was tremendously strong. She could feel its strength beneath her legs. The flap of the wings was graceful yet powerful, the rush of wind nearly somersaulting her off backward. The ground fell away fast as the owl accelerated. Tempest gasped, her breath catching in her lungs, her heart nearly stopping. The feathers were soft, the silence complete. She was in a whole other world.
Tempest glanced down, saw the tops of trees, and quickly squeezed her eyes shut tight as the owl climbed higher and higher. It took her a few minutes to remember she needed to breathe. Several deep breaths calmed her enough that she was able to look around. "It's really okay, Rusti," she murmured aloud to herself. "It isn't real. You know it isn't. This is some weird fantasy thing the king of the castle stuck in your head. Just go with it. No big deal. Everyone always wants to fly. Enjoy the hallucination."
She couldn't hear her own words. The wind whipped them away so that they fell into the silence behind them. You still find it necessary to talk to yourself. I am right here. You can talk to me. You aren't real. I made you up.
His mocking laughter brushed at the walls of her mind, sent heat curling like molten lava through her abdomen.
Why do you think that?
he asked.
Because no real man would have your eyes. Or your mouth. And no one can possibly be as arrogant and confident as you. I have every reason to be confident, baby, he taunted, his male mockery setting her teeth on edge.
Have you ever been plucked?
It was the best threat she could come up with on short notice. I bet it's extraordinarily painful.
His laughter made her smile. She knew he didn't often laugh. He was the most serious man she had ever encountered, yet he seemed to be discovering a sense of fun. At least with her.
She found, as time passed, that she was enjoying the sensation of soaring. The night enfolded her, the stars crowding the sky overhead. The moon threw the landscape below into sharp relief. The sense of freedom was incredible. She relaxed even more, finding herself becoming light, part of the owl, part of Darius.
They covered hundreds of miles, the strength of the owl enormous. The air was cool against her skin, the night jewel-studded, a perfect foil for the ride of her life. She felt as if she had been given a great gift. Darius. She breathed his name into the night, took it into her heart. He was magic. For just a moment she allowed herself to want their union to be forever. The real thing. The fairy tale. He made her believe it might be possible.
Darius never quite left her mind. It seemed so much safer that way. Tempest, out of his sight, was at her most dangerous. He knew she could talk herself out of their relationship at any moment. Inside the owl's body, he smiled, a small, secret, male smile. She had no idea of his power. That was his Tempest. She was accepting of his nature, of his special talents, but it wasn't in her to question closely things she didn't understand. That he really meant he wouldn't let her go never crossed her mind. She just couldn't conceive of him wanting her the way he said. Needing her.
Below them, the vineyards in the Napa Valley began to take shape. Tempest could make out the mountains rising majestically above the rich green valley. A lake shimmered in the distance, reflecting the silvery sheen of the moon. The owl seemed to be making its way toward that body of water, circling lower, dropping into the shelter of a thick stand of pine trees. It seemed much darker beneath the trees, yet Tempest was able to see more clearly than she ever had at night before.
She spotted the troupe's campsite tucked neatly into the trees. Parked there were the huge motor home, the truck, and the red sports car. Her heart took an unexpected plunge. She thought it rather silly to be dismayed when she'd just soared through the sky on the back of an owl; a few people shouldn't daunt her in the least.
No, honey, they should not bother you. I have told you repeatedly that you are under my protection. Do you not understand that I would protect you with my life?
Darius's voice was soft and soothing in her mind.
The owl glided to the ground, wings spread wide, gave a short hop, and waited for her to slide off. Tempest touched the feathers lightly, regretfully, one last time as they began to disappear. At once muscle and sinew rippled beneath skin. She felt the familiar wave of heat as Darius's arm curved around her shoulders and his thick mane of black hair caressed her face.
"These people are my family, Tempest." His voice was soft, mesmerizing, compelling. "That makes them your family."
She turned her face away from him, closing her mind to that possibility. Her large eyes searched for trails almost automatically, as if seeking escape. Darius tightened his arm, guiding her toward the camp. Desari's soft laughter floated toward them. It did nothing to calm Tempest's wildly pounding heart.
As they walked into the circle, Desari smiled at her in welcome. Tempest noted that Julian was close by, his posture protective of his mate. "Rusti, I'm so glad you're here. You won't believe what happened. Somebody sabotaged the truck. I think the idea was to slow us down. It was most likely one of those obnoxious reporters always snooping around or making up wild stories about us."
Tempest's relief was overwhelming. "Rusti" could meet the group much more easily as their mechanic than as Darius's girlfriend.
Girlfriend?
His eyebrows shot up.
Is that what you think you are?
That taunting male laughter mocked her.
She glared at him.
No, that's what you think I am. I know better.
Her voice was deliberately haughty.
Darius burst out laughing. His family turned toward him, startled by the rare sound. He ignored them to lean down, his warm breath against Tempest's ear, speaking softly though he was well aware the others, with their enhanced senses, could hear him perfectly. "I want you to eat before you do anything else. You can look at the truck later."
Tempest's eyes flashed fire at him. "You can stick your little owl's head in the nearest tree, too," she hissed, furious at him. "Why do think you can get away with always ordering me around?"
He grinned at her, totally unrepentant. "Because I am so good at it." His eyes flickered over Syndil.
Help me out here. She must eat.
Dayan seemed to be having a coughing fit. Desari and Julian were openly laughing. Syndil pushed Barack out of her way, glaring at him so that he groaned out loud. She stalked over to Tempest and took her hand. "Come on, Rusti. Do not pay any further attention to these men. They think they can rule us, but in truth, it is the other way around." As she spoke, she looked down her nose pointedly at Barack.
"Come on, Syndil," he pleaded. "You cannot hold one mistake against me for all time. You are supposed to be compassionate."
"Yes, I can," she said sweetly as she guided Tempest to the bus.
Barack swore, leaned down, picked up rock, and hurled it in sheer frustration. It embedded itself halfway into the trunk of a pine tree. "That woman is the most stubborn creature in the world," he said to no one in particular.
Darius walked over to Julian. "I ask for your help," he said formally, pushing down his dislike of such a thing. All that mattered to him was that he safeguard Tempest.
Julian nodded and fell into step beside his brother-in-law. "Of course, Darius," he replied, equally formal. "We are family."
"I have encountered human women turned by vampires. They were deranged, preying on the children of humans. I was forced to destroy these abominations. Now I fear I am placing Tempest in such peril. How are these women changed? I know that she is already different. Her hearing and vision are far more acute, and she is having trouble eating human food."
"It takes three blood exchanges to convert a human woman. Obviously you have not completed the ritual; it is a very painful process. If such a thing were to occur, you would have to send her to sleep once it was safe to do so in order for her body to convert without enduring too much pain to manage."
"Would she become deranged?" Darius was worried. He had already put her in danger, exchanging blood twice with her. "Has there ever been an instance when a human woman survived the ordeal intact?" Not that he intended to take the chance, but he needed the information in case of an unfortunate accident.
"Prince Mikhail, the leader of our people, successfully converted his lifemate. Their child is the lifemate of your elder brother, Gregori. My own brother, my twin, accidentally completed a conversion started by a vampire. Alexandria is his lifemate. If a human woman has psychic ability, it appears she can handle conversion by her Carpathian lifemate. And Tempest is undeniably your lifemate."
"When you use a phrase like 'it appears,'" Darius said, "it worries me. I would never want to take the chance of harming Tempest."
"What is the alternative, Darius?" Julian asked gently. "She has brought you into the light. If you lost her, you would be destroyed. You know you would never survive. You would turn vampire, the undead. You would lose your soul."
"I have chosen to grow old and die when she does," Darius announced.
Julian caught the echo of his own lifemate's gasp. Desari was stunned and saddened at the notion. It took a moment for Julian to fight back his own protest of such a decision. "You know the danger our race is in. There are far too few of us to ensure the continuation of our people. We cannot afford to lose even one pair. And certainly not one involving a young, healthy woman capable of bearing children."
Darius shook his head. "I know so little of our race, Julian."
"It is necessary for every Carpathian male to find his lifemate. If he fails to do so, he must choose to face the dawn and end his life before it becomes too late and he loses his soul, becomes the undead. We are predators, Darius. Without a lifemate to bring meaning and light into our darkness, to make us complete, we will become vampire. But so few Carpathian females survive childhood that most of our males are turning and must be destroyed. Before I found Desari, I had made up my mind to end my life. Prince Mikhail, through Gregori, sent me to warn her that she was in danger from the human society of vampire-hunters. Of course, we had no idea any of you were still alive after the massacres in our homeland. We thought Desari human and mistakenly in the society's sights. But when I saw colors in her presence, I knew she was my lifemate, that she was meant to be with me."
"So Dayan and Barack must find their lifemates soon, or they are in danger of turning, as was I," Darius noted thoughtfully, worried.
Julian nodded soberly. "There is no doubt, Darius. That is why those of us who can must try to have female children. It is the only way our race has a chance of surviving. Even so, we may be too late. Most Carpathian women give birth to males. If a female is born, she must struggle to survive that first difficult, dangerous year."
Darius remembered just how hard it had been to keep the two fragile little girls who were Desari and Syndil alive so many centuries ago.
"It is necessary to try to provide lifemates for our kind, our brothers and friends," Julian went on quietly, persuasively. "However, you must also consider that if you bind Tempest to you without converting her, like all lifemates, neither of you will be able to bear any physical or mental separation. You, a Carpathian, must sleep in deep ground. She will need air. When you sleep the true sleep of our people, she will be unable to reach you. No lifemate can take that for a prolonged length of time. It will not work."
"Tempest is already bound to me, and I cannot bear any separation from her. This she does not understand, though. She thinks in human terms," Darius admitted with a sigh.
"It cannot continue for long," Julian said. "We are hunted. Through the centuries we have been hunted. We are not invulnerable, despite our many gifts. She must be protected as one of ours."
Darius shook his head. "I have asked much of her these last days. I would not ask this - conversion - of her also."
"Before you close the door on the notion, Darius, give it thought. The other women I spoke of are happy in their lives. It took some adjustment, and I will not say they did not suffer, but in the end they accepted the inevitable."
"Because they had no choice," Darius pointed out softly. "The last thing I want is to cause Tempest any more suffering. She has had enough in her young life."