Corinne allowed him to lace his fingers through hers, though she wasn't altogether certain why. A part of her wanted to be realistic and strong, while the other, more treacherous side whispered of temptation, whispered she should enjoy his company while she could. "So Darius is much older than you are?"
"Darius is an extraordinary individual. He was six years old when our parents were killed. I was four. He kept us alive." He waved his hand, the movement graceful as he dismissed the past. "It was a long time ago."
Corinne reached up to rub his jaw with the palm of her hand. "You sound so sad, Dayan. It couldn't have been that long ago. Was your childhood difficult?"
"It was an adventure, Corinne, unlike yours. Remember, all of us are telepathic, and we are used to our differences. It was a wild, fun, very exciting time. Tell me about your childhood. I know bits and pieces through your memories, but you have locked most of it behind a heavy door I do not wish to open without permission."
They walked together unhurriedly along the pavement. Dayan seemed to glide beside her, making no noise. If she hadn't felt the security of his large frame brushing hers and his hand wrapped around her fingers, she would not have known he was beside her. In a way it was reassuring, yet it was also eerie to feel such raw power and stealth in him. "You aren't like everyone else." She said it quietly, intuitively.
There was a small silence, the space of several heartbeats. "I am from an ancient lineage," he admitted softly. "I have gifts, special gifts granted to me."
She smiled in the darkness. "I am very glad we met, Dayan. There is something wonderful and beautiful about you. When I'm with you I feel as if I could go on forever. The words to your songs and the beautiful music you play are exceptional. I love the sound of your voice, speaking or singing."
He curled her hand against his chest, so that she could feel his heart beating strongly beneath her skin, right through his shirt. She could feel the heat of his skin, the call of his masculine body as his muscles moved subtly. Above her head, Dayan smiled, his smile slightly wolfish. "You are deliberately trying to direct the conversation away from your childhood." He was secretly pleased by the sincerity he detected in her mind. He had placed no compulsion on Corinne, nothing to enhance her feelings for him. He was relying on the fact that she was his true lifemate, yet he had not bound her to him with the ritual words. He feared their forced parting during the daylight hours might be too difficult for her strained heart.
"Why would you want to hear a boring story on such a beautiful night?" Corinne kept her head down, not wanting to look into his eyes when they saw far too much.
"I want to know everything about you, Corinne," he said softly, his voice sheer black magic in the dark of the night.
How could anyone refuse the beauty of that voice? She took a breath, let it out. "The bad memories are of my mother drinking. I can't really recall much of her doing anything else. There were always men and awful little rooms we lived in, stuffy and hot. I spent all my time listening to music. I'd sneak out and find places where there was live music." She tossed him a quick grin. "It was an advantage being small – I could fit anywhere, and using telekinesis, I could remove locks and open heavy doors."
His hand moved over her hair in a small caress. He had to touch her. He could feel the contrasting emotions accompanying her memories.
"I lived for music. I dreamed it and heard it night and day in my head. It kept me sane when I was alone. It balanced my world, was something I escaped into. And then, of course, I met John and Lisa and their father."
There was such a wealth of sadness in her voice, Dayan gathered her into his arms, gently, protectively, his body sheltering hers in the dark of the night. He held her as if she were fragile porcelain, a precious treasure. "I'm grateful you had John and Lisa." And he meant it. John had saved Lisa's life and protected Corinne. He had done his best to create a family for them. Dayan was grateful someone had been there for her when he could not.
"Don't fall in love with me, Dayan," she murmured softly, pleading with him. She was fighting for him, wanting him to understand he couldn't feel so strongly about her. It was going to be bad enough with Lisa; she couldn't bear for Dayan to count on her and then lose her too.
His hand cupped her chin, tilting her head so that her eyes met his steady gaze. "I know you better than anyone has ever known you. How could I not love you when I see into your mind and heart? You are everything to me. I know you cannot understand, and to you it does not make sense, but to me – a wanderer with no one to love him, no one to chase away the demons – you are a miracle."
"Is that what I do for you?" She smiled in spite of herself, the thought beautiful to her. "Do I really chase away the demons?"
Without hurry, almost lazily, he bent his dark head and took possession of her mouth. He was gentle; there was nothing but gentleness in Dayan when he touched her, a gentleness so at odds with his enormous strength. But his mouth was pure magic, opening a door to a world she had never known existed before he had come into her life. His mouth was masculine and hot, dominating hers; the very earth shifted beneath her feet so that she clung to him for support. He swept her up against his hard frame, yet he held her with exquisite tenderness, infinite tenderness. His mouth was sheer magic.
He swept Corinne into another world, one of passion and exotic fantasies. One she had never dared to imagine. She might chase away demons for him, but he was something altogether different to her. Unreal. A mythical god. A man of legend. A hero. She smiled against his perfectly sculpted lips, velvet soft and hotly erotic. Every time she looked into his black eyes, so intense, so hungry, she melted inside.
'I am reading your thoughts.' The voice brushed intimately at the walls of her mind, a flutter of butterfly wings creating the same sensation in the pit of her stomach.
"Well, stop." Corinne pulled out of his arms, the only sane thing to do with her heart pounding and her body turning to molten fire. "We have to stop. You know we do." Her heart wasn't going to take much more; it was already working far too hard.
He rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily, attempting to recover. "I'm sorry, honey. Think of something mundane for me."
She laughed softly, nibbling at the corner of his mouth. "Lisa and I need clothes. We'll have to go back to our house and get enough clothes to last a few days until these people lose interest in us."
Dayan's hand curled slowly around the nape of her neck. His fingerprints were like a brand on her skin. She could feel it all the way down to her toes. And she was melting again, coming apart inside, her heart somersaulting dangerously. He straightened slowly, his black eyes staring down into her beautiful gaze. "Those people will not lose their interest in you, honey. You cannot go back to the house. I will get the things you and Lisa need and bring them to you. Make me a list." His voice was low, a whisper of sound like velvet over skin.
Corinne closed her eyes to shut out the sight of him. He was overwhelming at such close quarters. Every breath she took, she inhaled his masculine scent. Clean. Wild. Male. "You can't go through our things, Dayan. It just wouldn't be right. One of us will have to go with you."
He shook his head slowly. He didn't blink. Everything he did, he did with a fluid power, a ripple of pure energy impossible to ignore. "To keep you safe, Corinne, I can do this small thing." He said it softly, patiently. "These people sprayed the stage with bullets where Desari was singing. She is a beautiful, vibrant woman, unique in this world, yet they were willing to murder her, to silence her voice for all time. They managed to wound Desari, Barack and me. We were lucky that Julian was there along with Darius to save us. I am not so willing to take a chance with your life. Or the life of your child."
"You said those men were gone. They aren't going to send someone around so quickly. We need our things, Dayan. Sooner or later we'll have to return. And Lisa is famous – anyone can find her." Corinne tapped her fingernail against her palm. "We could hire bodyguards."
His features remained
expressionless, yet he went completely still, something deep within him roaring silently, raging immediate denial. For one moment Corinne thought she saw red flames flickering in the depths of his black eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. She took a step backward, but his hand was still wrapped around the nape of her neck, anchoring her to him. "What is it, Dayan?"
His smile was slow in coming, his teeth very white. "What is it you see that you could possibly fear in me, honey?"
"I don't know… sometimes you look like something more than you are. I know that doesn't make sense, but you can look very intimidating." She brushed back her hair, a small shiver running through her body. "Let's go back."
"I do not want you to be afraid of me, Corinne. I realize it is unexpected the way we met and came together. You were not looking for such a thing, but it has happened. We cannot pretend or go back." His thumb was moving over her skin, a small caress, feather light, but so erotic she was shivering beneath his touch.
"I was talking about going back to your house," Corinne clarified, attempting to move out from under his hand. Was he using his unique mental telepathy to "push" her in a direction he wanted her to go?
Dayan shook his head sadly. "I thought we had covered all of this, honey. I am a wanderer, a poet, a musician. I am a male who has roamed the earth in search of one woman. I know that woman to be you. If I influenced your decision in my favor by using telepathy, our relationship would not last. What I want with you, I want for eternity."
Corinne turned away from him, from his brooding good looks and the smoldering intensity of his black eyes. He needed someone to love him. He looked so alone, standing tall and confident, yet so hungry for someone to love him. God help her, she wanted to be that woman. For just one time in her life she wanted something to be real.
Dayan reached out and took her hand, needing to pull her smaller body close under the protection of his wide shoulder. He simply walked beside her in the night, enjoying the moment, thankful he could feel it, savor it. Thankful she was in his world.
"Every line of every song, every note I've ever played was written for you, played for you. The other half of my soul. My heart. In the hope that you were somewhere in my world and you would hear." In her frail condition, Dayan didn't dare reveal the truth of what he was to her. He knew the healer would find a way to save her life. There was no other possible outcome. He was very concerned that there might not be a way to save the baby. He was a shadow in her mind, connected to her. He knew she was willing to trade her life for her daughter's life. He was not. He was her lifemate. It was his sworn duty to see to her health.
Corinne blinked back tears at the utter sincerity in his voice. "You can't say things like that to me, Dayan." If he did, she would be lost and so would he. How could she resist him?
Dayan smiled down at her, tightened his fingers around hers. With every step he took beside her, he felt the heat rising between them, felt the way she was wrapping herself around his heart. It was the little things, like feeling her hand so small, entwined with his. Her breath. The scent of her. The way she smiled. He loved the way she smiled, the way she moved. The way she fought so desperately to protect him from possible loss.
Deep within his heart he was learning about true terror. The thought of losing her was beyond the scope of his imagination. He had never experienced fear in his adult life. Even during battles with vampires, he had experienced no ripple of feeling through the long centuries to give him the wisdom to handle such an intense emotion. Terror. He tasted the word. Could he face the loss of his lifemate without ever having lived with her, without ever having the time to love her and bind her to him? Dayan knew he would not want to. His life had been bleak and empty, so barren and cold he had been losing his ability to create songs, to feel the music inside of him. But now, with Corinne close to him, songs and words and notes were pouring out of his soul, begging to be heard.
She was the world. Colors and excitement and beautiful poetry. He would not lose her to mortal death. He knew now where his ability to play, to create, had come from. It was her half of his soul. He had been left with some small part of her light when they had been split, to find their way back to one another. He felt the songs in her, the music. It was in the way she walked, the way she flowed through a room, her small, slender figure so balanced. It was in the turn of her head and the way her smile lit up a room.
There was something about Corinne, something that had drawn his eye immediately. Lisa was beautiful, tall and blond and quite obviously a model. She belonged on the covers of magazines. Corinne's light shone from the inside out. Just watching her made Dayan smile. When he touched her mind to share her thoughts, he found she was thinking of others, how they felt, what they needed. She was happy despite the fact that she had recently lost someone she loved, and believed she herself was going to die soon. Corinne lived each moment as it was given to her, determined to see beauty around her, even while she grounded herself in reality.
Dayan found the way her mind worked interesting. She often used telekinesis without thinking about it. She would glance at an object across the room that she needed and she would start to draw it to her. He could feel the difference immediately in her brain, a warmth, the building of the image and the focus on it. The image was always sharp and crystal clear, and then she would remember she was not alone and would heave a small sigh.
"What?" She was smiling up at him, her intriguing dimple mesmerizing him, so that he had no other choice but to lean down and kiss it.
Butterfly wings fluttered in her stomach at the touch of his mouth against her skin. "You have to stop doing that," she told him softly, without much conviction.
"I thought I should practice as often as possible," he replied, rejecting her idea immediately. "I am without extensive experience, and I must make certain I do not lack in the area of a lover. After all, I wish to make you happy."
His voice was a whispered caress feathering over her skin. Corinne looked up at him, her large eyes dancing. "You know very well you don't need any practice at all. And you make me very happy." She reached up to touch his chin, a gentle brush of her fingers. "Tell me about your life."
"I am a wandering musician. That is the truth, honey – a poet who has found his missing heart. I have long been without it." It wasn't simply the words he said, it was the way he said them, with hunger in his eyes.
"Do you love playing?"
"It is who I am," he replied thoughtfully. "When I pick up my guitar, it is a part of me, like my arms. The notes and the words are somewhere deep inside me and they just flow out. I was born with this ability, a great gift bestowed on me."
His humility surprised her because he was usually very confident, so much so it bordered on arrogance. But not when it came to his extraordinary talent.
As much as she was enjoying walking with Dayan, she was already exhausted. She became aware of the way her heart seemed to struggle to find the exact rhythm of his. She smiled up at him as he bent down to swing her effortlessly into his arms. "You really can read my mind, can't you?" The sound of her own voice was more of an invitation than she would have liked.
"Of course."
"Do you have to be touching the person?"
"No. I was not always touching you when I was reading your mind. And I have never touched Lisa. It is easy to read the thoughts of mortals." He said it casually, so comfortable in her presence, he didn't think to censor his words. In the short time they had been together, he was already thinking of them as one, a partnership, life-mates rather than two separate entities.
Corinne's arms were clasped around his neck as he carried her through the night back toward the house where he and Cullen were staying. "Mortals? That implies all kinds of things, Dayan. Why would you use a word like mortals? Aren't you mortal?"
* * *
Chapter 6
There was a long silence while Dayan listened to the sounds of the night, the murmur of the wind as it whispered to him of secret things. "Someti
mes, honey, it is better not to inquire too closely into things you might not want to know about. I used the word mortal when another might have been a better choice. Are we not all both mortal and immortal at the same time? If you were to die, you would leave a part of you behind here on this earth, yet you would continue in another life elsewhere."
"You believe that?"
"Absolutely," Dayan answered solemnly, knowing she needed reassurance. For a brief moment he stopped walking to bury his face in the warmth of her neck, inhaling her scent. "Wherever you are, Corinne, you will never be alone. I will always be with you."
At once the fragrance of her, the reality of her, rose up to overwhelm him, and just that fast he was battling the demon inside. It rose sharply, swift and furious, fangs exploding in his mouth, the male Carpathian demanding he complete the ritual and bind her to him. She was his savior. The keeper of his soul. Light. Colors. Without her, there was only an empty, barren existence he could never return to. Never endure. Her pulse beat beneath his mouth, her life force ebbing and flowing with a dark richness he craved, he needed. Red flames flickered and danced in the depths of his black eyes as he fought the demon.
Sensing danger, Corinne held herself very still, her arms cradling his head to her. She was aware of his great inner struggle, although she understood nothing of it. His body trembled for a moment, and she felt his mouth moving erotically, back and forth over her soft skin. Her fingers crushed his silky hair, rubbing at the strands in agitation. What was it he needed from her? Sex?
'No!' The word shimmered in her mind emphatically. His voice gentled. 'Not just sex, my love, I need to make love to you all night. I need to bind us together for all eternity. I do not know how to tell you these things so you can understand, but it is as necessary to me as breathing.' There was such intimacy in the way he spoke to her, in the tenderness of his voice as much as in the way he could communicate, mind to mind. 'I need you so much, Corinne,' he sighed against her pulse, his breath warm and intimate; so much.' There was something very dangerous in him – she could feel it in his enormous strength, in the possessive way he held her – but his need was so great, she couldn't think straight, couldn't think to deny him, not even for her own self-preservation.
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