Dark Dream (Dark Series - book 7)

by Christine Feehan

  She could talk to no one of her encounter; no one would believe her. It was widely believed that a madman had murdered her family. And the local workers had been convinced it was the curse. Sara had inherited her parents’ estate, a considerable fortune, so she had been lucky enough to travel extensively, always staying one step ahead of her pursuer.

  “Sara.” Falcon said her name softly, bringing her back to him.

  The rain pounded on the roof now. The wind slammed into the windows, whistling loudly as if in warning. Sara raised the teacup to her lips and drank, her eyes still locked with his. Carefully she placed the cup in the saucer and set it on a table. “How is it you can exist for so long a time?”

  Falcon noticed she was keeping a certain distance from him, noticed her pale skin and trembling mouth. She had a beautiful mouth, but she was at the breaking point and he didn’t dare think about her mouth, or the lush curves of her body. She needed him desperately, and he was determined to push aside the clawing, roaring beast and provide her with solace and peace. With protection.

  “Our species have existed since the beginning of time, although we grow close to extinction. We have great gifts. We are able to control storms, to shape-shift, to soar as great winged owls and run with our brethren, the wolves. Our longevity is both gift and curse. It is not easy to watch the passing of mortals, of ages. It is a terrible thing to live without hope, in a black endless void.”

  Sara heard the words and did her best to comprehend what he was saying. Soar as great winged owls. She would love to fly high above the earth and be free of the weight of her guilt. She rubbed her temple again, frowning in concentration. “Why do you take blood if you are not a vampire?”

  “You have a headache.” He said it as if it were his most important concern. “Allow me to help you.”

  Sara blinked and he was standing close to her, his body heat immediately sweeping over her cold skin. She could feel the arc of electricity jumping from his body to hers. The chemistry between them was so strong it terrified her. She thought of moving away, but he was already reaching for her. His hands framed her face, his fingers caressing, gentle. Her heart turned over, a funny somersault that left her breathless. His fingertips moved to her temples.

  His touch was soothing, yet sent heat curling low and wicked, making butterfly wings flutter in the pit of her stomach. She felt his stillness, his breath moving through his body, through her body. She waited in an agony of suspense, waited while his hands moved over her face, his thumb caressing her full lower lip. She felt him then, his presence in her mind, sharing her brain, her thoughts, the horror of her memories, her guilt... Sara gave a small cry of protest, jerked away from him, not wanting him to see the stains forever blotting her soul.

  “Sara, no.” He said it softly, his hands refusing to relinquish her. “I am the darkness and you are the light. You did nothing wrong. You could not have saved your family; he would have murdered them in front of you.”

  “I should have died with them instead of cowering in a closet.” She blurted out her confession, the truth of her terrible sin.

  “He would not have killed you.” He said the words very softly, his voice pitched low so that it moved over her skin like a velvet caress. “Remain quiet for just a moment and allow me to take away your headache.”

  She stayed very still, curious as to what would happen, afraid for her sanity. She had seen him drink blood, his fangs in the neck of a man, the flames of hell burning in the depths of his eyes, yet when he touched her, she felt as if she belonged to him. She

  wanted

  to belong to him. Every cell in her body cried out for him. Needed him.

  Beloved Dark Angel.

  Was he the angel of death coming to claim her? She was ready to go with him, she would go, but she wanted to complete her plans. Leave something good behind, something decent and right.

  She heard words, an ancient tongue chanting far away in her mind. Beautiful, lilting words as old as time. Words of power and peace. Inside her head, not from outside herself. His voice was soft and misty like the early morning, and somehow the healing chant made her headache float away on a passing cloud.

  Sara reached up to touch his face, his beloved familiar face. “I’m so afraid you aren’t real,” she confessed.

  Falcon. Lifemate to Sara.

  Falcon’s heart turned over, melted completely. He pulled her close to his body, gently so as not to frighten her. He trembled with his need of her, as he framed her face with his hands, holding her still while he slowly bent his dark head toward hers. She was lost in the fathomless depths of his eyes. The burning desire. The intensity of need. The aching loneliness.

  Sara closed her eyes right before his mouth took possession of hers. And the earth moved beneath her feet. Her heart thudded out a rhythm of fear. She was lost for eternity in that dark embrace.

  Chapter Three

  Falcon pulled her closer still, until every muscle of his body was imprinted on the softness of hers. His mouth moved over hers, hot silk, while molten lava flowed through her bloodstream. The entire universe shifted and moved, and Sara gave herself up completely to his seeking kiss. Her body melted, soft and pliant, instantly belonging to him.

  His mouth was addictive. Sara made her own demands, her arms creeping up around his neck to cradle him close. She wanted to feel him, his body strong and hard pressed tightly to hers. Real, not an elusive dream. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth, hot and needy and so hungry for her. Sara didn’t think of herself as being a sensual person, but with him she had no inhibitions. She moved her body restlessly against his, wanting him to touch her,

  needing

  him to touch her.

  There was a strange roaring in her ears. She knew no thoughts, only the feel of his hard body against hers, only the sheer pleasure of his mouth taking possession of her so urgently. She gave herself up completely to the sensations of heat and flame. The rush of liquid fire running in her veins, pooling low in her body.

  He shifted her closer, his mouth retaining possession, his tongue dueling with hers as his hand cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple through the thin material of her shirt. Sara gasped at the exquisite pleasure. She hadn’t expected company and she wore nothing beneath the little tank top. His thumb nudged a strap from her shoulder, a simple thing, but wickedly sexy.

  His mouth left hers to blaze a path of fire along her neck. His tongue swirled over her pulse. She heard her own soft cry of need mingle with his groan of pleasure. Teeth scraped gently, erotically, over her pulse, back and forth while her body went up in flames and every cell cried out for his possession. His teeth nipped, his tongue eased the ache. His arms were hard bands, trapping her close so that she could feel the heavy thickness of him, an urgent demand, tight against her.

  A shudder shook Falcon’s body. Something dark and dangerous raised its head. His needs were swamping him, edging out his implacable control. The beast roared and demanded its lifemate. The scent of her washed away every semblance of civilization so that for one moment he was pure animal, every instinct alive and darkly primitive.

  Sara sensed the change in him instantly, sensed the danger as his teeth touched her skin. The sensation was erotic, the need in her nearly as great as the need in him.

  Fraternizing with the enemy.

  The words came out of nowhere. With a low cry of self-recrimination, Sara dragged herself out of his arms. She had

  seen

  him take blood, his fangs buried deep in a human neck. It didn’t matter how familiar he looked; he wasn’t human, and he was very, very dangerous.

  Falcon allowed her to move away from him. He watched her carefully as he struggled for control. His fangs receded in his mouth, but his body was a hard, unrelenting ache. “If I planned on harming you, Sara, why would I wait? You are the safest human being on the face of this planet, because you are the one I would give my life to protect.”

  I am Falcon and I will never know you, but
I have left this gift behind for you, a gift of the heart.

  Sara closed her eyes tightly, pressed a hand to her trembling mouth. She could taste him, feel him; she

  wanted

  him. How could she be such a traitor to her family? The ghosts in her mind wailed loudly, condemning her. Their condemnation didn’t stop her body from throbbing with need, or stop the heat moving through her blood like molten lava.

  “I felt you,” she accused, the tremors running through her body a result of his lethal kiss more than fear of his lethal fangs. She had almost wanted him to pierce her. For one moment her heart had been still as if it had waited all eternity for something only he could give her. “You were so close to taking my blood.”

  “But I am not human, Sara,” he replied softly, gently, his dark eyes holding a thousand secrets. His head was unbowed, unshamed by his dark cravings. He was a strong, powerful being, a man of honor. “Taking blood is natural to me, and you are my other half. I am sorry I frightened you. You would have found it erotic, not distasteful, and you would not have come to any harm.”

  She hadn’t been afraid of him. She had been afraid of herself. Afraid she would want him so much the wails of her family would fade from her mind and she would never find a way to bring their killer to justice. Afraid the monster would find a way to destroy Falcon if she gave in to her own desires. Afraid to reach for something she had no real knowledge of. Afraid it would be sinfully and wonderfully erotic.

  For my beloved lifemate, my heart and my soul. This is my gift to you.

  It was his beautiful words that had captured her heart for all time. Her soul did cry out for his. It didn’t matter that she had seen those red flames of madness in his eyes. In spite of the danger, his words bound them together with thousands of tiny threads.

  “How is it you came to be here in Romania? You are American, are you not?” She was very nervous, and Falcon wanted to find a safe subject, something that would ease the sexual tension between them. He needed a respite from the urgent demands of his body every bit as much as Sara needed her space. He was touching her mind lightly, could hear the echoes of her family demanding justice.

  Sara could have listened to his voice forever. In awe, she touched her mouth, which was still tingling-from the pressure of his. He had such a perfect mouth and such a killer kiss. She closed her eyes briefly and savored the taste of him still on her tongue. She knew what he was doing, distracting her from the overwhelming sexual tension, from her own very justified fears. But she was grateful to him for it. “I’m American,” she admitted. “I was born in San Francisco, but we moved around a lot. I spent a great deal of time in Boston. Have you ever been there?” Her breath was still fighting to find its way into her lungs and she dragged in air, only to take the scent of him deep within her body.

  “I have never traveled to the United States but I hope that we will do so in the future. We can travel to my homeland together and see my Prince and his lifemate before we travel to your country.” Falcon deliberately slowed his heart and lungs, taking the lead to get their bodies, both raging for release, back under control.

  “A Prince? You want me to go with you to meet your Prince?” In spite of everything, Sara found herself smiling. She couldn’t imagine herself meeting a Prince. The entire evening seemed something out of a fantasy, a dark dream she was caught in.

  “Mikhail Dubrinsky is our Prince. I knew his father, Vladimir, before him, but I have not had the privilege of meeting Mikhail in many years.” Not for over a thousand years. “Tell me how you came to be here, Sara,” he prompted softly. The Prince was not entirely a safe subject. If Sara began thinking too much about what he was, she would immediately leap to the correct conclusion that Mikhail, the Prince of his people, was also of Falcon’s species. Human, yet not human. It was the last thing he wanted her to dwell on.

  “I saw a television special about children in Romania being left in orphanages. It was heartrending. I have a huge trust fund, far more money than I’ll ever use. I knew I had to come here and help them if I could. I couldn’t get the picture of those poor babies out of my mind. It took great planning to get over to this country and to establish myself here. I was able to find this house and start making connections.”

  She traced the paths of the raindrops on the window with her fingertip. Something in the way she did it made his body tighten to the point of pain. She was intensely provocative without knowing it. Her voice was soft in the night, a melancholy melody accompanied by the sounds of the storm outside. Every word that emerged from her beautiful mouth, the way her body moved, the way her fingertips traced the raindrops entranced him until he could think of nothing else. Until his body ached and his soul cried out and the demon in him struggled for supremacy.

  “I worked for a while in the orphanages, and it seemed an endless task—not enough medical supplies, not enough people to care for and comfort the babies. Some were so sick it was impossible to help them. I thought there was little hope of really helping. I was trying to establish connections to move adoption proceedings along quicker when I met a woman, someone who, like me, had seen the television special and had come here to help. She introduced me to a man who showed me the sewer children.” Sara pushed at her gleaming sable hair until it tumbled in spiky curls and waves all over her head. The light glinted off each strand, making Falcon long to touch the silky whorls. There was a terrible pounding in his head, a relentless hammering in his body.

  “The children you whistled a warning to tonight.” He tried not think about how enticing she looked when she was disheveled. It was all he could do not to tunnel his hands deep in the thick softness and find her mouth again with his. She paced restlessly across the room, her lush curves drawing his dark gaze like a magnet. The thin tank top was ivory, and her nipples were dark and inviting beneath the sheath of silk. The breath seemed to leave his body all at once, and he was hard and hot and uncomfortable with a need bordering on desperation.

  “Well, of course those were only a few of them. They are excellent little pickpockets.” Sara flashed a grin at him before turning to stare once again out the window into the pouring rain. “I tried to get them to turn in earlier, before dark, because it’s even more dangerous on the street at night, but if they don’t bring back a certain amount, they can be in terrible trouble.” She sighed softly. “They have a minicity underground. It’s a dangerous life; the older ones rule the younger and they have to band together to stay safe. It isn’t easy winning their confidence or even helping them. Anything you give them could easily get them killed. Someone might murder them for a decent shirt.” She turned to look over her shoulder at him. “I can’t stay in one place too long, so I knew I could never really help the children the way they needed.”

  There was a sense of sadness clinging to her, yet she was not looking for pity. Sara accepted her life with quiet dignity. She made her choices and lived with them. She stood there with the window behind her, the rain falling softly, framing her like a picture. Falcon wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her for eternity.

  “Tell me about the children.” He glided silently to the narrow table where she kept a row of fragrant candles. He could see clearly in the darkness, but Sara needed the artificial light of her lamps. If they needed lights, he preferred the glow of candlelight. Candlelight had a way of blurring the edges of shadows, blending light into dark. He would be able to talk of necessary things to Sara in the muted light, to talk of their future and what it would mean to each of them. “I found seven children who have interesting talents. It isn’t easy or comfortable to be different, and I realized it was my difference that drew that horrible monster to me. I knew when I touched those children that they would also draw him to them. I know I can’t save all the orphans, but I’m determined to save those seven. I’ve been setting up a system to get money to the woman aiding the children in the sewers, but I want a home for my seven. I know I won’t be able to be with them always, at least not until I find a way
to get rid of the monster hunting me, but at least I can establish them in a home with money and education and someone trustworthy to see to their needs.”

  “The vampire will only be interested in the female children with psychic talents. The boys will be expendable; in fact, he will view them as rivals. It will be best to move them as quickly as possible to safety. We can go the mountains of my homeland and establish a home for the children there. They will be cherished and protected by many of our people.” Falcon spoke softly, matter-of-factly, wanting her to accept the things he told her without delving too deeply into them yet. He was astonished that she already knew about vampires, and that she could be so calm about what was happening between them. Falcon didn’t feel calm. His entire being was in a meltdown.

  Her heart pounded out a rhythm of fear at the casual way he acknowledged that her conclusions were correct. The vampire would go after her children, and she had inadvertently placed them directly in his path.

  She watched curiously as Falcon stared at the candles. The fingers of his right hand swirled slightly and the entire row of candles leaped to life. Sara laughed softly. “Magic. You really are magic, aren’t you?” Her beloved sorcerer, her dark angel of dreams.

  He turned to look at her, his black eyes drifting over her face. He moved then, unable to keep from touching her, his hands framing her face. “You are the one who is magic, Sara,” he said, his voice a whisper of seduction in the night. “Everything about you is pure magic.” Her courage, her compassion. Her sheer determination. Her unexpected laughter in the face of what she was up against.