Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12)

by Christine Feehan

  She was silent for so long, Dayan thought she had drifted off to sleep. He lay beside her, his fingers moving lovingly over his guitar, his body close to hers. He wanted this moment to last for all time. Corinne was beside him where she belonged. Light was beginning to streak through the darkness, turning the inky blackness to gray. He lay there savoring the feel of her beside him, missing the sound of her voice, her laughter, the way her eyes danced when she teased him. The way she looked at him as if he were the only man in her world. Corinne. He knew what poets wrote about. He knew why his soul had cried out for her. He knew why he had waited centuries for her.

  “Dayan” — she murmured his name drowsily — “are you human?”

  Startled, he stared down at her. Corinne’s eyes were closed, and she was breathing as if she were asleep. He had covered her memories with a veil, not removing them completely because he wanted her to know the truth soon. He didn’t want it to be a complete shock to her; he couldn’t risk that kind of shock with her damaged heart. He wanted her to have the memories to draw on when she needed them, but his command should have prevented her from wondering.

  He examined her thoughts as she lay there beside him. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, having a beautiful dream. She was unafraid. Dayan relaxed, a slow smile curving his mouth. She was moving closer to the truth. Closer to accepting him.

  Sleep, honey, while I visit you in your dreams.

  And he would. He couldn’t bear to be away from her, not even while they both slept. He would be forced to seek refuge in the ground as the sun rose, yet he didn’t dare protect her with normal safeguards. If she were to attempt to leave the dwelling despite the guards, the stress could cause problems with her weak heart. As it was, he was afraid if she did go too far away from him, she would begin to feel the effects of separation from her lifemate.

  Although he had not said the ritual words to her, he and Corinne were already bound in heart and mind.

  He bent once more to kiss her, needing to touch her, wanting to remain with her despite the danger to himself. He knew it was impossible to stay, but it didn’t stop him from longing to be with her.

  Sleep until I rise, Corinne. Sleep safe.

  He murmured the command softly, needing to find a way to protect her while he slept.

  When he was satisfied that she had obeyed him, he lay quietly, freeing his mind, seeking his brethren.

  Darius. Our need for a healer grows greater with each passing moment. She is much weaker this night. I do not know how much longer she can continue.

  There was a wait and then Darius was there. Strong. Reassuring. Calm as always.

  Join with her. We will link

  —

  Julian, Desari, Tempest and I. You work, and we will supply you with as much help as possible to keep her going until we can come together.

  Dayan let his breath out slowly. He should have realized Darius would think in terms of the family strength. His family was there for Dayan, as always, standing shoulder to shoulder with him to fight for his lifemate and the child. He reached for the merge, embraced his family and let go of his physical body to once more attempt a healing. This time with help.

  Chapter 8

  Desari, lead singer for the Dark Troubadours, tapped out an edgy rhythm with her fingernail on the tabletop as she looked at her brother. “Dayan’s lifemate is not going to last much longer, Darius. I don’t like this situation at all. Dayan cannot claim his lifemate, nor help her while she is with child. What did Gregori say, Darius?”

  Julian circled Desari’s waist with his arm, bending to brush his lifemate’s temple with a brief, reassuring kiss. “Gregori and Shea are really very good, Desari. They’ll figure out how to help Dayan. Gregori is impressive when he works, and he is your brother, of your lineage. You know how powerful that makes him. It’s too bad Gregori and Savannah didn’t make Lucian’s wedding. Running into the vampire delayed them, and now this news will cut their reunion with Lucian short.”

  “I’m not certain they will reach Dayan in time. Barack and Syndil are returning from the Carpathian Mountains. That’s a long way, Julian.” Desari, clearly worried, bit at her lower lip.

  Julian leaned down to brush a reassuring kiss along Desari’s temple. “They bring with them Shea and her lifemate, Jacques, brother to the Prince and a very powerful Carpathian. You are used to relying on your family in these matters, but in truth, there are many others — brethren, kin — who are moving to help us.”

  Darius shrugged his broad shoulders as he looked at his sister, his black gaze steady and calm. “We can do no other than to aid Dayan until they arrive. Gregori and his lifemate will be here soon enough, and we will travel together to reach Dayan and the one who would join our family. Dayan has no choice but to keep her alive, and he will do so.”

  Julian nodded. “Both Gregori and Shea feel it is too risky for Dayan to do a blood exchange with her while there’s a baby in her womb. Dayan said the infant is female and a strong psychic. That will help, but until the healers arrive to aid the baby, we dare not risk interference.”

  Desari frowned. “If Dayan’s lifemate’s heart should give out, we will lose them both.”

  Julian’s arm tightened around her. “Dayan will not allow such a thing. His lifemate’s heart is very weak, but we should be able to keep her going with our linked energy until the healers are in position to aid her and the infant.” He met Darius’s eyes over the top of his lifemate’s head. The situation was grave. Barack and Syndil were rushing back, bringing with them Shea Dubrinsky, lifemate to Jacques. Shea was an extraordinary Carpathian. A doctor, a researcher, a healer of great talent. With them traveled a human male. A friend to the Carpathian race, Gary Jansen was aiding Shea in her research to find a way to keep Carpathian children alive during the crucial first year of life. Gregori had sent information about him ahead, asking for the protection of the human from all Carpathians. The band members didn’t know Gary, but Gregori’s word would be obeyed unquestioningly within the Carpathian world.

  “It is near dawn,” Darius mused aloud, “but if necessary we could continue a couple more hours under cover of a storm.”

  “We said we would meet them here,” Tempest protested. “And this campsite is secluded. It is a good place to go to ground.”

  Darius rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully as he smiled down at his lifemate. Tempest stood with her hands on her hips, giving him that little frown that always made him want to take her somewhere secluded and kiss it right off her expressive face. “Barack and Syndil are on their way back, honey. They’ll catch up with us at the house in the Cascades. We have to travel fast if we’re going to get to Dayan quickly.”

  Tempest tilted her head, her flame-red hair glinting in the moonlight. “We didn’t say we were meeting Barack and Syndil, Darius, and you darn well know it! We’re meeting Gregori and Savannah here. You want to leave because your

  other

  big brother is coming and you’re nervous about meeting him. Julian told you so many tales of the dark one, you probably have nightmares about him.” Maybe Darius didn’t, but Tempest did. And she couldn’t help teasing her husband every chance she got. They had only been together a few short weeks, and he still could take her breath away with one sensual look from his beautiful eyes. She had the feeling he always would.

  Tempest sounded far too smug for his liking. Darius glared at her in warning, one eyebrow shooting high. “Nervous? I have no experience with such a thing. I have heard the tales of the dark one, a bogeyman the elders made up to frighten small children. The stories are impressive, but the man is no doubt a mere man.”

  Julian’s eyebrow shot up. “Mere man?” A definite smirk settled over his face. “I’ve heard Gregori described as many things, but a mere man is not one of them.”

  Desari reached out to her brother. “Darius, do you find it strange to think we have three elder brothers after all this time? First we met Lucian and Gabriel, the dark twins in the
legends, tales you told us when we were children. And now Gregori, the dark healer. It is amazing to me that they live and breathe. Lucian and Gabriel were wonderful. I’m excited to meet Gregori.”

  “We never knew them,” Darius pointed out. “Lucian and Gabriel were long gone, their existence no more than a myth. And Gregori was all-powerful with many responsibilities. You were a babe and I but six years old when we were lost. He was already a full-fledged male, grown in stature and strength. I doubt if he thought about us overmuch.” Again he shrugged carelessly. He had certainly thought about his brother in those days, so long ago. He had hero-worshiped him, listening to each impressive story and filing it away to take out when he was alone.

  Tempest slipped her hand into his larger one, a silent gesture of love. She touched the mind of her lifemate and found he was simply stating the facts as he saw them. He was making no judgment. Darius had long been without emotion until she had come into his life, and he possessed a will of iron and tremendous discipline. She leaned into him and reached up to find his mouth with hers. His apparent lack of emotion still intimidated her at times. She was feeling her way into Carpathian life, still struggling to be part of a family when she had always been so solitary.

  Darius responded the way he always did, his kiss hot and possessive. Tempest melted into him, instantly pliant, her arms stealing around his neck. “I think of you too much,” she pointed out.

  “I fear for Dayan, Tempest. This problem is a difficult one. I honestly do not know if we can save his lifemate.” With Tempest, this once, he would allow doubt to intrude. With her, he could be vulnerable and show his tremendous love for his family. “If it were you...” He trailed off, his gut lurching in protest.

  “It isn’t me,” Tempest pointed out. “I’m healthy and strong. And you won’t fail Dayan. You have been there for him over the centuries, and you will be the rock he leans on now.”

  Corinne turned over, snuggled closer to warmth. She knew who lay beside her and she didn’t bother to open her eyes. “Dayan, you aren’t sleeping. I can tell by the way you’re breathing. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Dayan tensed. Her voice was drowsy, sexy, arousing his body when he had been utterly relaxed. “You are supposed to be asleep until the next rising.” He meant it literally. He had given her a command.

  Corinne rubbed her face along his chest and laughed softly. “You have to admit you phrased the order rather oddly. I was to sleep safely until you rose. What exactly does that mean?” She yawned sleepily, covering her mouth politely. “If you don’t ever go to sleep and just lie there all night staring at the ceiling, does that mean I don’t have to obey? Or does it mean I have to stay asleep until you actually rise from the bed?”

  Dayan found himself grinning at the ceiling. He had been lying there beside her, simply enjoying being in the same room with her, wondering at the beauty of the night. Outside the room he could hear the night creatures stirring. The wind was rushing through the trees, and he felt vitally alive. “For your information, I was not staring at the ceiling. I was staring at you.” He leaned over and kissed the corner of her mouth, laughing softly. “You little witch. How did you manage to wake up when you’re supposed to be asleep?”

  “It was a fairly wimpy command, Dayan,” she pointed out, lifting her lashes so her green eyes could laugh at him there in the dark. “I mean, I heard you giving it to me, and felt the push, and I allowed myself to sort of go with it but all the time I was thinking that I wouldn’t necessarily obey it.”

  “Wimpy? It was not wimpy. I was careful of your... er...

  condition.

  I was being sensitive. I object strenuously to your using the word wimpy. I was firm but gentle.”

  She rolled over to pillow her head on his shoulder “You underestimated me. Admit it. You’re so darned used to making people do what you want, it didn’t occur to you I could resist.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “You did it on purpose.”

  “Well, of course. You can’t just go around trying to force people to do what you want them to do.” She turned so she was nearly nose to nose with him. Glaring. “Like Lisa. You have to stop influencing her, Dayan. And don’t deny it, I know you do.”

  “I was not going to deny it. I told you, it is important that she accepts me in your life.” Dayan linked his fingers behind his head. “Lisa has an unusually high resistance to my persuasion.”

  “Because Lisa is not like the rest of us. In her own way, she is different too,” Corinne explained. “She is inherently good, and I think she is gifted with a protection of sorts. Lisa has to be allowed to work out her relationship with you on her own.” She traced his lips with the pad of her finger. “You’re rather ruthless at times, aren’t you?”

  His tongue flicked out, swept along her finger, “I stand on the stage night after night, performing, surrounded by people who do not know me. I have a need for space. Is it so wrong, after giving the best I have to give, to ask for that space? I do not harm them, merely ask for consideration.”

  Corinne smiled down at him. “I’m asking for consideration for Lisa. Give her time. She’ll come to accept you. She wants me to be happy. If I’m happy, she’ll be happy with my choice.”

  “Am I your choice, Corinne?” Dayan nibbled at her finger, his teeth teasing her, sending tiny flames dancing over her skin.

  “And you’re arrogant as well as ruthless,” she pointed out.

  “You may as well add that I am a thief to the long list of my sins, since you are taking an inventory of them.” He slid his hand inside his shirt and pulled out a small notebook. “I could not possibly leave C. J. Wentworth songs behind. You left this treasure sitting in the middle of your bed.”

  Corinne had to look away from his mesmerizing gaze. He was a miracle, a genius with music, yet he was complimenting her work. She knew she was glowing. How could she not? Praising her music was one of the highest compliments Dayan could give her.

  “Silly — “ His voice was tender. He lifted his head to kiss her soft mouth gently. “You must know I am hoping you will join our band. What an asset you would be. You are capable of playing several instruments, and your songwriting is wonderful.”

  “I’m nowhere near being a legend as you are,” she said, “but thank you for such high praise.”

  “I have been lying here beside you reading your beautiful lyrics. I watched you sleeping, Corinne, and wondered what I had ever done in my life to deserve you.”

  Warmth spread deep inside her at his softly spoken words. “I write what’s in my heart, about all the things that matter in life. All the things we encounter. There’s such beauty all around us, Dayan. Everyone has to cope with everyday problems. Finances, sickness, even death, loving someone who doesn’t love us back.” She twisted the ring on her finger. “But we can still live life, see the beauty everywhere around us. It’s there for the taking. That’s what I try to write about in my music. Hope in the midst of heartache. Joy in the midst of pain. Experience life — don’t watch it passing by.”

  Dayan reached out and gently took her hand, brought it to his mouth in a tribute. “I have never met anyone who lives life with the fullness you do, Corinne. And already, you have shown me such wonders. I look at something small, like the leaves on the trees, and find they are more beautiful than I had ever imagined.”

  “Leaves shine silver in the moonlight,” she said. “I often sit in my backyard and watch the way the breeze makes them glitter at night when the moon is out.” She lay back shivering, cuddling closer to him as if the talk of being outdoors chilled her. “It’s cold in here.” She beckoned with her hand toward the cupboard.

  The double doors flew open and a thick quilt tumbled out. It rippled like a magic carpet as it floated across the room and spread itself over them.

  It wasn’t cold, but her body was not regulating its temperature properly. Dayan suppressed the apprehension shimmering in his mind. He forced a smile. “You are showing off, Corinne. You are supposed to
be sleeping and gaining strength, but instead, you are waving your hands about and making blankets dance in the air.”

  Her breath fanned his neck. Warm. Intriguing. Tempting. She laughed very softly, the sound joyful in the

  stillness of the room. Suddenly his smile was real. “At

  night when I was very young, I used to imagine myself flying on a magic carpet. I didn’t dare set the blankets floating; I was afraid I would get caught.”

  “So what did you do instead?” he asked.

  “I read, of course. Everything I could get my hands on. Books could take me to all the places I never could go on my own.” She traced the indentation in his chin. “I’ve read so many books — fiction, nonfiction, encyclopedias, anything I could get my hands on. And I had the music.”

  “How did you manage to learn to play, especially when you were living on the streets a good part of your life?” He shifted her, wrapping his arms securely around her, curving his body protectively behind hers so they fit like spoons.

  Corinne’s laughter was soft, like the rain on the roof. “There was a small club, a bar, where live bands played all the time. Locks meant nothing to us, and we often slept in the back room there. Instruments were left behind all the time. I’d watch the band play, and then I’d practice until I could play the forgotten instrument with the same sound as the person on the stage. I’m lucky enough to have a good ear, and I can remember music easily. The piano was easiest for me because I could watch the performer’s fingers and see how a particular piece was played.”

  “Do you realize how truly rare such a thing is, Corinne?” She smiled. “I had many hours to practice.”

  Dayan slid his hand down her ribcage to her stomach. “She is moving. The two of you need sleep. I am keeping you up.”

  Corinne felt her insides turn to mush when he laid his hand over the baby in a protective gesture. Instinctively she knew that was what he was doing. She felt close to him, connected with him, content to lie beside him and listen to the sound of his voice and feel the heat of his body. It was one of the things she counted as beautiful in the world. One of the things she was thankful she had experienced.