Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5)

by Christine Feehan

  “If she comes to your concert, believe me, Desari, there will be no need of enchantments. Darius will recognize her instantly. He will not allow her to leave.”

  “He does not have this knowledge. Maybe I should tell him.”

  Julian shook his head. “No, it is better to allow nature to take its course in these things. If one is close to turning, one might try to force what is not there. If it happens for him, he will know what to do. Every male is born with the ritual words, with the instincts to bind his woman to him. It will be there for him when he needs it.”

  “What if she does not want him?” Desari asked. “We have seen that ourselves,” he teased.

  Her hand cupped his face, her thumb lovingly tracing the hard line of his jaw. “I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.” Desari shook her head. “No wonder the males of our species become so arrogant. They are able to tie a woman to them without her consent or even her knowledge. That must make them feel very superior.” Her tone conveyed her annoyance.

  “I think they are more inclined to feel humble,” he answered sincerely. “When a male has survived so many centuries with no color or emotion, and he finds the one who brings him light and compassion, music and joy, he can do no other than revere her.”

  She quirked an eyebrow at him. “They still should not have the right to tie a woman without her consent. What is wrong with courting her? It might help to calm her fears and make her feel she is special to him.”

  “How could a woman feel anything but special when a man needs and wants her so much? A woman has only to touch her lifemate’s mind to know what is in his heart. She knows who he is, his good traits and his failings.”

  “Even if she is a fledgling? Any ancient could hide whatever he wanted from one so young. I cannot imagine the fear a woman would feel tied without her consent to such a powerful being. She would not have a sense of her own worth, who she was or even what special gifts or talents she had.”

  Julian captured her hand, placed a kiss in the center of her palm, feeling her distress for the women unknown to her robbed of their childhood. It had been difficult enough for Desari, as strong a woman as she was, to accept that Julian had some kind of dominion over her. Even knowing she had the same dominion over him, it was still frightening to her. It was an admission of need. A need to be close to him always.

  Julian’s hand framed her face. “Never fear the need between us. Whatever you are feeling,

  cara, I

  feel twice as much. I was without color or song or emotion for far too long. I have had many bleak centuries to help me learn appreciation for my lifemate. You did not need my existence in the same way that I needed yours—even to continue my life, to save my soul. Had we never met, you would have lived far longer before the emptiness of your existence became too much to bear.”

  Desari lay her head on his shoulder, wanting to hold him close. “I think our need for one another is mutual, Julian.”

  Desari. The night is winging across the sky, and you two are still gazing into one another’s eyes. This concert is yours. We have not yet rehearsed, and there is no way to plan without your presence. I will not repeat myself in this matter.

  Darius’s black velvet voice was soft with menace. He demanded her presence, and she must comply.

  Desari sighed. “We must go before it is too late to cross the distance this night. The others wait for us.”

  Julian’s hand cupped the nape of her neck so that he could hold her still while he bent his head to find her mouth with his. She could sense his amusement at the order for their return to the family fold and her obvious need to comply with it.

  “We must, Julian,” she whispered, afraid he might attempt to defy Darius.

  He smirked at her, his white teeth flashing. “Come along, little chick, we must obey the big bad wolf or something terrible might happen.”

  “You do not even know,” she answered solemnly. His laughter was his only answer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The crowd was enormous. Julian inhaled deeply, allowing the air to tell him every story. The smell of excitement, of sweat, of rising tempers, and lust. It was all in the breath he drew into his lungs. He was looking out for danger to his lifemate. His amber eyes inspected the huge throng pushing to get into the building. He found himself tense, his every inclination to keep Desari far from these humans. He could hear myriad conversations even as he was scanning innumerable minds. Human security guards were using metal detectors on the people entering, but still he was uneasy.

  Julian caught sight of Darius. He was an imposing figure, moving silently and swiftly through the crowd, his black eyes icy, piercing the crush of humans restlessly, in unceasing motion. He was every bit as alert as Julian, determined to protect his sister at all costs. Dayan, although he played in the band, was at a side entrance, as on guard as the others. Barack roamed inside the building, mingling with the crowd to add further insurance to Desari’s safety. Both musicians were projecting images unrecognizable to the public.

  The two leopards, Sasha and Forest, were locked in one of the rooms provided for the band members. Syndil, too, had taken her usual form of a female leopard and waited with the other cats. Julian wanted to protest the action, aware of the sadness in Desari at Syndil’s withdrawal from reality. Julian had noticed that Barack was very edgy around all of them. He often placed his body squarely between the other males and Syndil. Clearly the terrible attack on her had shaken the males’ faith in one another. With the assassins making their attempt on Desari and vampires threatening them for their women, the men were all on edge.

  Darius paused briefly beside him. “Anything?”

  Julian shook his head. “Nothing but a feeling of uneasiness. I do not like this, Desari exposed to all these humans.”

  “There will be no mistakes made this time,” Darius said softly, confidently. “There will be no further attempts on my sister’s life.”

  Julian had to respect the man’s total conviction. It was difficult not to believe in Darius, power clung to him like a second skin. There would be no chances taken this night. Julian nodded at Darius and continued pacing among the humans, scanning minds, listening to the conversations around him. To his left a fight erupted between two men. Pushing and shoving, voices raised. But the human security personnel were there instantly, escorting the scufflers away from the building. Julian could detect no animosity toward his lifemate, so he ignored the incident, not wanting to be distracted from his primary task of protecting Desari.

  Desari was in the dressing room, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She liked to put it on herself in the human manner. It soothed her somehow before she went on stage. It was also her habit before each concert to scan the minds of the crowd, and try to find those in need so that she could pick the songs most suited to healing and helping. It was important to her to seek the mood of the audience, listen for what they wanted to hear, their favorite ballads or the haunting new melodies she could produce. She liked to know which people had come to more than one of her concerts, who had traveled long distances to see her perform. Sometimes after her shows she would seek out those who had traveled far or often to hear her sing and introduce herself to them and chat.

  For the most part, the crowd was eager, moving restlessly, excitedly, in their seats, eager to hear her sing. Desari tuned them out in order to prepare herself for the stage. At once her mind, of its own accord, sought Julian. She smiled as she felt an instant flood of warmth, strong arms surrounding her.

  Julian was not thrilled with her family

  unit

  , as he called them, nor were they all that happy with him, but no one was snarling at each other. To his credit, Julian hadn’t made even a single protest when she entered the theater to dress for her concert.

  You are the lifemate of a sensitive, modern male.

  Julian’s lazy amusement warmed her further, confirming what she already suspected, that he often stayed a shadow in her mind.<
br />
  How fortunate for me.

  Desari smiled at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. There was a sparkle in her eyes. She knew Julian had made her feel more alive than she had ever been.

  Sensitive, modern men are so to my liking. Men? I am certain I did not hear my lifemate use the word

  men.

  The plural. No man is allowed to be to your liking other than myself.

  He sounded stern, the fierce Carpathian male at his most menacing.

  Desari laughed aloud.

  I suppose I can see your point, Julian, but really, it is so difficult to keep from noticing all of those handsome hunks in the audience. Handsome hunks?

  His voice dropped low with the affront.

  They are more like lovesick fops. If they could feel the vibrations in the air, they would show sense and run for their lives. It is bad enough to read their fantasies and hear them talk their trash,

  cara,

  but it is altogether worse to hear that my woman is looking back. One smile at the wrong man, lifemate, and trouble will find the man quickly. You sound jealous,

  she accused him, amusement curving her soft mouth.

  The first rule for all women to know and never forget is that Carpathian males do not share their lifemates. Your brother has much to answer for that this was not drilled into you since birth. It was his job to prepare you for my coming.

  It was said somewhere between jest and complaint.

  Desari drew in her breath sharply, finding herself wavering between laughter and exasperation.

  My brother had no idea of your existence, you arrogant male. Besides, how could he possibly prepare me for your total ignorance of women? More likely, had he known you were coming to speak your ritual words, he would have been waiting to ambush you. I myself would have burrowed deep within the ground until you passed beyond my surroundings. You would have burst from the ground straight into my arms,

  cara mia,

  and you know this to be true.

  Now he was laughing, that smug, taunting, male amusement that should have set her teeth on edge but instead made her laugh.

  I think you are trying to find something to dictate to me about just so you do not lose your ability. Go away and practice this male art form on someone else. You will be singing to me tonight,

  piccola, and to

  no other man. You are a spoiled little boy, not a grown man. Should I come show you what a grown man I am?

  His voice was suddenly low and warm, so sexy she felt a rush of answering heat. She could feel the brush of his fingers against her throat, trailing down the valley between her suddenly aching breasts.

  Go away, Julian,

  she laughed in answer.

  I cannot have you getting me hot and bothered just now. As long as I know you are hot and bothered for me, I will do as you request and go back to work. I can only hope.

  Desari heard the familiar steps coming up to her door, Dayan knocking loudly with his usual five-minute warning. She knew Barack would be checking one last time on Syndil. Excitement was setting in, the quick rush right before she walked out onto the stage.

  Desari paced across the floor once or twice, ridding her body of unused adrenaline. The second knock came three minutes later. Julian and Darius stood on the other side of the door, their eyes and minds continually scanning every inch of the building and the audience. Desari felt small wedged between the two larger bodies, suddenly aware of the potential danger to herself. That someone wanted her dead for reasons unknown was shocking to her. She moved closer to Julian for protection.

  He touched her arm in a gentle caress, nothing more demonstrative, his mind obviously filled with security measures, tuned to the air around them. Yet Desari instantly felt comforted and safe. Dayan and Barack were waiting to enter the stage with her. As they moved forward, the roar of the crowd drowned out every other sound.

  Julian began to pace the perimeters of the building, taking his time, getting a feel for the audience. He knew every nook and cranny of the interior, every possible hiding place, every entrance and exit. He knew every position, high or low, that a sniper could utilize. His gaze continually swept the areas that provided the most cover for an assailant.

  In the recent past he had watched over Mikhail and Raven’s daughter, Savannah, while she performed magic shows during the five years of freedom Gregori had allotted her before he claimed her as his lifemate. Several times her human security people had to prevent over-eager men from rushing the stage to meet her. But Julian had kept his presence a secret there only to fight off the vampires who often stalked her without her knowledge. He had not had to handle the humans attracted to her.

  This was different. Desari’s voice itself was a lure, an enticement to all who heard it. And she was so beautiful up there on the stage, her long dress flowing fluidly around her slender figure one moment, then hugging her body the next. Her ebony hair glittered in the light and cascaded in waves down her back, brushing her shoulders and breasts, her waist and hips. She was irresistible.

  Julian felt his breath catch in his throat. She awed him. The way she moved, the way her perfect soul shone so brightly for all to see. Desari was beautiful not only on the outside but also on the inside, and it showed. She was, literally, breathtaking. He dragged his gaze away from her, forcing his mind to remain alert, to scan for trouble.

  Desari’s voice poured into the air and flowed through the concert hall. The silence of the crowd was complete. No shuffling in seats, not even soft murmurs. The audience was spellbound. There was enchantment in her voice, a soft, misty blend of laughter and tears, haunting, evoking memories, creating hopes. Feelings of deep, abiding love welled up in those listening. Older audience members recalled every wonderful moment with their spouse—holding hands, making love, creating children, their joy in being together as both lovers and parents. The younger ones dreamed of their perfect partners, that first sighting, the first touch, the first kiss. Couples growing apart were reminded of their vows and the love they felt for one another before resentments began to eat away at them.

  Desari’s voice gave them all comfort and hope. Julian was amazed at her power. She was not adding compulsion; she simply possessed a gift that was a treasure to the world. His pride in her grew with each song. It was as if instinctively she sensed what was needed by certain individuals or the group and was able to deliver it.

  Julian turned toward the area just in front of the stage, a shadow creeping slowly but surely into his mind. At once he signaled Darius, who was closer. Darius was already moving, directing security in the same direction. Dayan and Barack closed in on Desari immediately, moving so quickly they were nearly a blur, placing their bodies squarely in front of her while two men clambered onto the stage. Slightly drunk, they reeled toward the band members. They had taken no more than two steps before a wall of security guards had them in custody and were ushering them out of the hall.

  Desari’s voice was soft with laughter, an invitation for the crowd to join her. “Poor boys, they have no idea what just hit them. But because of an unfortunate incident recently, my security people are treating me as if I were gold. Please bear with them.”

  She held the crowd in the palm of her hand. Julian could not believe how easily she did it, softly excusing the two overexuberant fans, teasing about her security guards, and making light of her vulnerability and her celebrity status.

  Unfortunately, the shadow remained in Julian’s mind. He glanced at Darius, whose dark eyes were as cold as ice. Darius shook his head slightly to indicate the danger to Desari was not past. The two of them began to move in opposite directions, circling the huge theater, covering ground slowly, scanning as they did so. Something was not quite right. Both felt it. Dayan and Barack felt it, too. There faces were expressionless, but they stayed positioned protectively near Desari, and their eyes moved restlessly, unceasingly, all of them seeking the source of that shadow.

  The Carpathi
ans on stage continued to play, and Desari’s voice was more beautiful than ever, weaving such an enchantment on all within hearing that it was difficult for Julian to keep his attention fully on her protection.

  Something malignant was infiltrating the building. It was such a soft, slow flow of tainted air it was barely discernible. Julian tried to find its direction. He had already scanned the crowd several times, and knew there was no real threat from that direction. It was something far more powerful.

  Nosferatu

  . The undead.

  Desari and Syndil had to be the reason vampires were frequenting these parts even with Julian’s brother, Aidan, living so close by. Aidan was a hunter renowned for his skills, yet lately this area seemed to be overrun with the undead. Julian could see no reason for it other than the presence of the two Carpathian females. Few would be aware that Desari had been claimed, and to a vampire, it hardly mattered. The undead were so arrogant, so bloated with their own power, they were certain they could gain possession of any woman for themselves.

  Julian’s gaze, a glint of glittering gold, shifted back to the stage. Barack suddenly stumbled on a note, his head going up alertly. At the same time, Julian felt the wash of hideous power pouring into the air around them, rushing toward the band’s dressing rooms. Automatically, he blurred himself, streaking through the concert hall, as did Darius. But it was Barack who beat them both to the room where the leopards waited. Behind them, as if by design, Dayan went into a lively melody, his voice and guitar accompanying Desari, so that the audience went wild, clapping and stomping their approval.

  It took both Darius and Julian to restrain Barack before he burst through the closed door. He snarled at them, his fangs savage, eyes red hot with killing rage. It was Darius who spoke to him, using the family’s peculiar mental path that Julian was slowly becoming familiar with. The order was velvet soft, soothing, a promise of protection for Syndil. Barack took a calming breath and nodded his reluctant acquiescence, relaxing beneath the grip of the two hunters.