I know. Stay where you are.
Tempest blinked, unsure whether she had really heard his voice or whether she merely wanted to hear it. He was so far away from her. She tried to rise, focusing on the sound of water. Where was Matt Brodrick? As weak as she was, she couldn’t afford to run into him, but she needed to get to the water.
Wait
for me, Tempest.
The voice was stronger this time, an order if she’d ever heard one.
She supposed he had the right to sound imperious when he was always having to save her, but it grated just the same. Tempest staggered toward the stream, ignoring her screaming muscles, the sound of the bird calling to Darius, and the fear that Brodrick might come dashing at her at any moment. The only thing that mattered to her was reaching the water.
The stream was icy cold, and she lay down in it, full length, wanting the water to soothe the burning slashes in her skin, to numb her enough that she could think again. She stared up at the blue sky and saw only the agitated bird. She sat up slowly and pulled herself to the streambank. The wind combined with the icy water began to seep inside her, and she started to shake.
You should have stayed within the perimeters I set for you,
Darius said quietly, with only the slightest edge to his voice.
Shut
up about your stupid perimeters,
she snapped. Even though she’d expected it, she couldn’t bear to be lectured over some idiot reporter who thought he was on to a nest of vampires. The hell with that. “What are you saying?” she asked herself aloud. “There is a nest of vampires. Or maybe it’s called a coven of Carpathians. No, covens are for witches. But whatever it is, it isn’t my fault that some nut wants to shoot everyone.”
Her neck and side were throbbing. So were the soles of her feet. She examined one, winced, and put them back in the water.
It isn’t safe around you, Darius. Things just happen. Bizarre things. It is very safe around
me,
but
you
do not know your limits, and you seem to have a problem listening to reason. If you had stayed where you were supposed to stay, none of this would have happened.
“Oh, go to hell,” she muttered aloud, certain he couldn’t possibly hear her. Did he have to be so blasted superior all the time? She hurt everywhere; the last thing she wanted to do was listen to an infuriating male. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his help. She could tell by his voice, by the fact that he was so far away, that his intervention had been difficult. Still, that didn’t give him the right to chastise her, did it?
I
have the right because you belong to me and I can do no other than to see to your safety and happiness.
The voice was calm and very masculine, holding a dark promise she didn’t want to think about.
“You can do no other than shut up,” she muttered resentfully. Clenching her teeth against the pain, she eased her shoes from around her neck. She didn’t want Matt Brodrick sneaking up on the campsite and shooting Desari or Darius from some bush.
He cannot,
Darius said soothingly. This time there was a hint of laughter in his voice at her rebellion.
Go to
sleep or whatever it is you do,
she snapped. I’ll
make sure no one can hurt you.
She added the last just to set his teeth on edge.
She immediately received the impression of gleaming teeth, that predator’s smile, his black eyes burning with the promise of retaliation. Tempest pulled her mind abruptly from his, mostly because he could intimidate her even from a distance, which was hardly fair. Wincing, she eased her sneakers on over her wet, damaged soles and gingerly stood.
She swayed, her every wrenched and punctured muscle protesting, from holding up her own weight. With a sigh, she followed the stream, hoping to find her way back to the campground. It wasn’t easy going, the terrain rough in places as she moved steadily upward away from the stream bed. Twice she sat down to rest, but finally she reached the stand of trees where she had first spotted Brodrick.
Tempest looked around carefully, certain she was in the correct spot, but the man was nowhere in sight. A black feather floated from the sky, a slow swirling in the breeze that dragged her attention skyward. Several large birds circled above the trees, more gathering even as she watched. Her heart nearly stopped. Buzzards.
She sat down abruptly on a rock, her heart pounding loudly.
Darius?
Even in her own mind, her voice trembled, wavered, sounding forlorn and lost.
I am here, honey.
He sounded strong and reassuring.
Is he dead? I don’t want to find his body. You didn’t kill him, did you?
She was pleading with him, hoping he hadn’t, but it suddenly occurred to her just why he had assured her Brodrick couldn’t hurt them and why, earlier, she didn’t need to go to the police and report Harry’s attack on her. Why he had suggested neither assailant would bother anyone again. Had she always known? Had she simply pretended to herself that Darius was always sweet and gentle, if a bit too imperious? She had known all along he was a dangerous predator; he had said as much himself. And when he said she was under his protection, it meant something to him. Darius was not human. He had his own code he lived by.
Did you kill him, Darius?
There was a short silence.
He died by his own hand, Tempest,
he finally replied.
She covered her face with her hands. Could Darius have somehow forced him to do such a thing? She didn’t know. Just how powerful was he? He could shape-shift. Convince a raptor to rescue her from a cliff. What else could he do? And did she want to know? You’re
very dangerous, aren’t you? Not to you, honey. Never to you. Now go back to camp, and allow me to get my rest. But his body. Someone has to call the police. We have to take his body to the authorities. We cannot, Tempest. He is a member of a society of assassins. These so-called vampire hunters would come at the first word of his untimely death, and all of us will be in danger. Leave him for some hiker to find later, once we’re gone. He has been unstable for some time, and they will rule it a suicide, as they should. He did it himself?
She sought reassurance.
Anyone who would come after me or mine is clearly suicidal,
he answered enigmatically. She wasn’t going to touch that one.
And the other man who attacked me? Is he alive? Why would you think such a man should live, Tempest? He preys on women. He has done so for years. What does the world need with such a person?
Oh, God, she could not think about this. Why hadn’t she considered the consequences of staying with a creature like Darius? It is
wrong to kill. It is the law of nature. I have never killed wantonly or indiscriminately. This is tiring, Tempest. I cannot sustain this communication for long. Return to camp, and we will continue this discussion when I rise.
She recognized an order when she heard it.
Chapter Eight
Tempest was gone. Beneath the earth, black eyes snapped open, burning with fury. The ground rolled slightly, an ominous rippling across the park’s surface. Then Darius rose, bursting into the air, soil spewing like a geyser all around him. He felt the curious, disorienting wrench, then the overwhelming sense of loss, the black stain spreading across his soul.
His breath was coming in painful, hard gusts. Red flames flickered and danced in his eyes. There was a pounding at his temples, and deep within him, the beast roared and raged, demanding to be unleashed.
Darius tried to regain a semblance of self-control. Tempest didn’t understand his world, the necessity of death. In her world, she clung to the belief that one who killed was bad. He battled with his own hard arrogance that she dared defy him, dared to leave him. Most of all he battled the beast within, strong now and demanding that he claim what was rightfully his.
Rise. All of you, rise and come to me now.
>
He issued the order to his family, knowing they would obey.
They gathered around him, their faces serious. Only a few times over the centuries had Darius called them this way. Dark fury was etched into the harsh lines of his face. There was a cruel edge to the beauty of his mouth. “We will get her back. Before all else, she will return.”
Desari glanced uneasily at her lifemate. “Perhaps we should not, Darius. If Rusti has run a second time, it is her wish not to stay with us. We cannot force her to our bidding. It is against our laws.”
“I feel her desolation beating at me,” Darius declared, his fury mounting. He was more dangerous at that moment than he had ever been. “She fears me, fears our life together. She is aware of what we are.”
A collective gasp went up. The members of his family stared at one another. Barack broke the shocked silence. “True, she has seen some things unfamiliar to her, but it cannot be that she knows all, Darius.”
Darius regarded them impatiently. “She has known since the first day. She is no threat to us.”
“Any human who cannot be controlled is a threat to us,” Barack said warily. He moved subtly to place his body in front of Syndil.
“Rusti is no threat,” Syndil chastised softly. “You were eager enough to use her to feed, despite the fact that she traveled under our protection.”
“Aw, Syndil, do not start again,” Barack pleaded. “You’ve just begun speaking to me again. Do not get all worked up once more.”
Darius waved a hand impatiently, dismissing the argument. “I cannot survive without her. She must be found. Without her I am lost to the undead. She is all that matters in my world, and we must retrieve her.”
“No,” Desari gasped, unable to believe that her brother could be so close to turning.
It was Julian who shrugged casually. “Then we can do no other than return her to our family. She is young, Darius, and human. It is natural for her to fear what we are, to fear your strength and power. You are no easy man to deal with. You need patience.”
The burning black eyes settled on Julian’s face for a moment; then some of the tension eased from Darius’s shoulders. “She is hurt and alone. She does not understand the need to merge her mind with mine. She fights herself continually. I am worried for her health.” Darius sighed softly. “And she seems to have a penchant for getting herself into trouble whenever I leave her on her own.”
“That, I fear, is a woman thing,” Julian declared with a wry grin. Desari thumped Julian’s chest. “Where is she, Darius?”
Tempest sat huddled on the seat near the window, peering out with sightless eyes at the countryside flashing by. She had been lucky to flag down a bus once she made her way to main highway, even luckier that the driver had allowed her on board. But the farther the bus carried her from Darius, the heavier her heart had become. It was now like a leaden weight in her chest. Sorrow was pressing in on her. Grief. As if by her leaving him, Darius had died. Intellectually she knew it wasn’t so, but in her resolve to get away, she firmly forced herself to stay away from the path to his mind. And that left her feeling unutterably alone and lonely.
She could hear small snatches of conversation flowing around her. A man, two rows back, was snoring loudly. Several young people were laughing together, exchanging travel stories. At least four military men were on the bus, returning to their homes on leave. Everything seemed to flow around her as if she wasn’t there, as if
she
were no longer alive.
Tempest knew blood was seeping from the puncture wounds on her rib cage and most likely from the scrapes down her back. Someone was bound to notice if it didn’t stop soon. She tried to concoct a plausible story, but she couldn’t keep her mind on anything but Darius. It took every effort, every bit of concentration and control not to call out to him, not to reach for him when she needed him so desperately. Her shoes were squishing with her own blood. If anyone really looked at her, they’d probably turn her over to the authorities. She huddled down farther in the seat. She just wanted to disappear, become invisible. Even her clothes were damp from her plunge into the stream. She hadn’t returned to the campsite, so she had no money, no tools, no plan. More than anything she wanted to feel Darius beside her.
The miles accumulating between her and Darius were putting more and more of a strain on her. She could feel tears burning behind her eyes. It was becoming difficult to breathe. Even her skin was sensitive, needing the feel of his. Tempest closed her eyes tightly against the pounding in her head, the constant strain of keeping her wayward mind from reaching out to his.
“Looks like we’re running into a freak storm,” the bus driver announced, peering through his windshield at the sky.
The weather was indeed changing rapidly. Rising directly in front of them was a huge cloud shaped like a dark, old-fashioned blacksmith’s anvil. Almost instantly the bus hit a sheet of driving rain, so thick and hard, it was nearly impossible to see. Swearing, the driver slowed the vehicle significantly. The rain turned an ominous white. The driver ducked instinctively as hail pounded the roof and windshield. The sound was alarming, like the chatter of a machine gun.
The hail soon took the driver’s visibility to zero, am he slowed even more, trying to reach the side of the road. The only warning the passengers had was the hair on their necks standing on end before the flash of lightning struck directly in front of the bus. Thunder crashed shaking the mammoth bus, rattling the windows. There was silence for perhaps ten seconds, then several girl screamed and a child began to cry. Just as abruptly a the hail had started, it stopped.
The driver peered out, trying to see as he parked the bus, hoping he was safely off the road. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud, and thunder crashed again. Staring out the windshield, he found himself ducking as a huge owl flew straight out of the driving sheets of rain.
“What the hell?” he demanded, even as the creature veered away at the last possible moment. Thinking he was safe, the driver leaned forward to check visibility Instantly a second bird, than a third, flew directly at the windshield. The birds were huge and vicious-looking. He yelled and covered his face with his arms.
There was another eerie silence, broken only by the rain. Then the driver found himself reaching to open the door. He swore he saw a huge jungle cat flash by in the rain, striking terror into his already pounding heart but even so, his hand continued to open the door. He couldn’t stop himself, no matter how hard he tried. Hi: hand was shaking as he gripped the release. Outside he could hear the beating of wings, strong and ominous. He could hear whispers, insidious whispers, urging him to open the door. Yet he sensed that when he did, he would be letting in the devil himself.
A man’s solid frame filled the entrance. He was tall, muscular, his face in the shadows. As hard as he tried, the driver could not see his features. He had only the impression of enormous strength and great power. The dark stranger wore a long, swirling black trench coat that added to his mystery. Only his eyes, burning with fire and suppressed rage, gleamed like a predator’s stare from the shadowed face. The man ignored the driver and turned his black, merciless gaze on the passengers.
This time the silence was complete. The wind and rain ceased, as if nature itself was holding its breath. Tempest peeked out at the imposing figure through her fingers. Despite his Old-World elegance, he gave every impression of being a modern-day mobster. No one on the bus would dare defy that impressive figure of sheer power. She huddled down, making herself into a small ball, even though her traitorous heart was rejoicing and her treacherous body instantly went up in flames at the sight of him. He was so incredibly sexy. Tempest wished she didn’t think so, but there it was.
The burning black eyes settled unerringly on her face. “We can do this either of two ways, honey. You can come out, quietly, on your own two feet, or I can throw you, kicking and screaming, over my shoulder and carry you out.” His voice was low, a purr of menace, a blend of iron and black velvet. Sorcery. Dark persuas
ion.
Every head in the bus swung toward her. All eyes were on her, all ears waiting for her answer. Tempest sat for a moment in silence before moving. She wanted to pretend she might resist him, but the truth was, she wanted to be with him. She was only gathering her strength.
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, just to show him he was annoying her, she made her way down the narrow aisle to the front of the bus, trying not to wince with ever step as the cuts on the soles of her feet burned.
As Tempest neared the bus driver, the man stirred She looked very small and fragile to him, her clothe torn and smeared with blood, “Are you sure you’ll be all right, miss?” He carefully avoided looking at the man towering over her.
The black eyes suddenly left Tempest’s face and bored into the driver. Ice cold, graveyard eyes. Tempest pushed at Darius’s broad chest, backing him up, away from the driver. “I’ll be fine,” she assured the man. “Thanks for asking.”
Darius dragged her beneath the protection of his shoulder, his arm circling her slender waist. She looked as if she would fall down if he allowed her to stand or her own for too long.
The driver watched them descend the two steps. Behind them the doors snapped closed. Sheets of rain slammed down from the sky, obscuring his vision. Blinking hard, he peered out the windshield, but he couldn’t see anyone. The mysterious gangster and the woman were gone as if they had never been. There wasn’t so much as a car around.
Without a word, Darius scooped Tempest into his arms and covered the distance to his waiting family using his preternatural speed, blurring their images as he did so. Tempest lay against the solid wall of his chest, cradled in his arms, peeking out at the group suddenly crowding close around her.
“Are you all right?” Desari asked gently.
“She is fine,” Darius answered before Tempest could speak. “We will join you on the next rising.”
Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6) Page 14
