Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12)

by Christine Feehan

  Cullen simply stared at her, astonished that she had ever given him more than a casual glance. She looked nothing like the shy, vulnerable young woman he knew her to be. She looked like a goddess to him. She was a seductress in front of the camera, then turned to laugh easily with the photographer, joke with the makeup artist, tease the hairdresser. When she noticed Cullen, her face lit up and she waved. For one moment he forgot he had come on a rescue mission.

  “Keep your mind on work,” Corinne reminded him. “You’re supposed to be her bodyguard. No ogling the client.”

  Cullen grinned sheepishly and edged his body in front of Corinne’s as his gaze swept the crowd, looking for familiar faces. He was high on the society’s hit list, branded a traitor by the organization. Somewhere in that crowd were men with guns — he was certain of it. “Maybe you should get back in the car,” he told Corinne.

  “You’ll never get Lisa to come until this is over.” Corinne was walking carefully through the maze of cable toward Lisa. She waved at a photographer she knew. “Are you on a break? I need to talk with Lisa.” She held up one finger, indicating a quick chat.

  The photographer nodded at her. “We can’t decide if she looks better standing or sitting. Lisa can carry anything off.”

  “She’s getting eaten alive by the mosquitoes,” the hairdresser called as she patted Lisa’s shimmering hair, then swatted at a bug landing on her own arm. “Honestly, Matt, these wilderness locations are dangerous.”

  “Not too much longer, Lisa,” the photographer called back. “We’ll lose the light pretty soon anyway.”

  Corinne had nearly reached Lisa’s side when she glanced up and saw a man hidden above Lisa in the rocks. For one moment she thought he was part of the shoot, a male model, before it registered that he was short and plump and not at all handsome. As he half turned, the sun’s rays glinted on something in his fist. Her heart in her throat, Corinne hurled herself at Lisa, catching her around the waist and driving both of them backward into the shrubbery. “Cullen!” she called out, terrified the unknown man would be able to get a clear shot at Cullen.

  Both women fell heavily in a tangle of arms and legs. Corinne didn’t care — she was concentrating on the object in the man’s hand, fixing on it with her mind, determined to spoil his aim. She actually felt the intensity in the man as he fought for control. She saw people running toward her, saw two more men in the rocks out of the corner of her eye. Nothing mattered but covering Lisa protectively and keeping the man from shooting Cullen. She heard Dayan cry out in warning, felt his withdrawal from her mind. He had been providing emotional support, and it hurt that he left now when she was most afraid, when she didn’t want to be alone.

  Deep within the ground, Dayan shook with fear for her, raged at his inability to break free of the terrible paralysis that gripped his race during the daylight hours. He merged with Cullen, “seeing” through his eyes. Security guards were racing around in all directions, people were yelling, and Cullen was trying to make his way toward the two women. He was looking at his destination rather than at the wild crowd. Dayan drew a deep breath, let it out slowly to control his own panic. He forced Cullen to stop running and take a long look around himself to give Dayan a clear view of what was happening.

  First he took care of the man struggling with Corinne for possession of the gun. Instead of attacking the weapon, Dayan went for the throat of the man, closing off his airway so that he had no time to think about shooting anyone. He let go of the gun, and it clattered downward through the rocks. He grasped at his throat in an attempt to fight off the unseen hands squeezing him like a vise. Only when the assailant fell from the rocks did Dayan, using Cullen’s eyes, do a slow sweep of the crowd in search of other possible threats.

  One man was dragging Corinne backward, away from the rocks toward the deeper thicket of trees, out of eyesight of the fast-moving security guards. The guards were converging on Lisa, who was still on the ground. Two women were screaming, and the scene was fast turning to chaos. Dayan forced Cullen to follow Corinne even though the human male wanted to go to Lisa, who was clearly sobbing, trying to fight her way past the security people to get to Corinne.

  Dayan thought only of the man holding his lifemate. He allowed nothing else in his mind. He stared directly at the arm around her throat in an L choke hold. Almost at once the muscles in the man’s arm began to swell. He yelled and released Corinne’s neck, only to shove her in the back as she attempted to run from him. Right before Dayan’s eyes, she went down hard, her hands going out to try to protect the baby from the rocky ground.

  Swearing eloquently to himself in the ancient language, Dayan used his last remaining surge of power to buckle the earth so that Corinne’s assailant fell hard, his head striking a jutting rock. At once more rocks tumbled down, dislodged by the minor quake, at first slowly, then raining down in a concentrated shower, striking the man’s head and chest so that he was partially buried beneath the heavy stones.

  That was all Dayan could do until the earth renewed his strength and the sun began to wane. With one last look at Corinne, lying small and fragile in the dirt, he reluctantly broke the mind merge with Cullen, his spirit retreating to its resting place, where his body already lay paralyzed.

  Cullen turned to look at Lisa, who was struggling wildly with the security guards. “Corinne! Cullen, get to Corinne. Someone call an ambulance.” Tears were streaming down Lisa’s face.

  Cullen was sprinting toward Corinne’s fallen body when something hit him hard from behind, spinning him halfway around. His breath slammed out of him, leaving him gasping for air. He registered Lisa’s high-pitched scream, saw people throwing themselves to the ground and running for cover. He never heard the gunshot. He wasn’t even certain what actually happened, but when he tried to continue his forward momentum to reach Corinne, his legs turned to rubber and he found himself sitting abruptly on the edge of the grassy lawn.

  “Cullen!” Lisa did manage to break free for a moment before a security guard threw her to the ground and covered her body with his.

  It was Frank who aimed his gun very carefully, his hand steady when the gunman continued running toward Corinne. Frank called out a warning, loud and clear, hoping the man would stop. Instead, he turned and fired at the security guard, all in one smooth motion. The bullet thunked into a tree beside the security guard’s head. Without flinching, Frank squeezed the trigger. He found he was whispering to himself, “No. No, don’t.” The gunman stood still, staring in dismay at Frank, his gun falling in a strange slow motion from his hand. He looked down at the crimson stain spreading across his chest and then up at Frank before he fell onto his knees and then face down, half on the rocks and half on the lawn.

  For a moment there was only the sound of sobbing, and then people slowly began to look at one another, realizing the violence was over as quickly as it had started. Frank kept his gun aimed steadily on the stranger who had shot at him as he walked slowly toward him. Sirens could be heard in the distance, coming closer fast. Frank glanced anxiously at Corinne. She was very still, face down in the rocks.

  Minutes later Lisa was climbing into an ambulance with Corinne, clutching Corinne’s purse, tears running down her face. Cullen was being loaded into another ambulance. Lisa pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out loud. “I did this,” she whispered to Corinne.

  Corinne was so pale she looked gray. Around her lips was a distinctive blue color that horrified Lisa. “She’s pregnant,” she said unnecessarily to the paramedics, “and she has a bad heart.”

  An oxygen mask covered Corinne’s face. She looked small and helpless, very vulnerable and fragile. Already broken. As if she had already gone far away from Lisa. Lisa took a firm hold of her hand, wanting to cling to her, to prevent Corinne from slipping away. “Is she going to be all right?”

  The ambulance was moving very fast, the paramedics talking on their radio, putting things into Corinne’s IV. None of them looked directly at Lisa, and none answe
red her question. She touched Corinne’s stomach, the baby. John and Corinne’s baby. She didn’t want to lose either of them. And if the worst happened and Corinne’s heart gave out, Lisa wanted that tiny little part of her to live. “It’s too early for you, baby,” she crooned softly. “Way too early.”

  At the hospital Lisa was hustled out of the emergency room. She could only watch helplessly as they rushed Cullen into a cubicle beside Corinne. A policewoman came in after a long while to talk to her, but nobody said anything about Corinne or Cullen. Eventually the waiting room was filled with people: her photographer, her agent, Frank the security guard. The one person she looked for, waited for, knew she could lean on, the one person she dreaded most, didn’t come.

  Dayan. She would never be able to look him in the eye. Why hadn’t she just listened to them all? Lisa hadn’t wanted it all to be true. Murders didn’t happen to regular people; she and Corinne were finished with that world. She had worked hard and found a new life. One that didn’t include murder. She sat quietly, her fists clenched tightly, wanting to cry and cry forever.

  Dayan lay locked in the earth, counting the minutes until he could rise without danger. He burst from the soil, dirt spewing like a geyser as he shot into the sky, shape-shifting as he did so. The sun was low but had not set, and the light hit his eyes so that they burned and wept. Or maybe it wasn’t the sun. Dayan didn’t know for certain as he winged his way swiftly across the sky toward the hospital where she lay.

  His world. His life. The best part of him. She lay dying in a hospital. He knew it. He felt it. He kept his mind firmly merged with hers so that she couldn’t possibly release her spirit from her dying body.

  You will hold on. ‘

  He commanded it with every fiber of his being, bent his entire will to ensure her obedience.

  I am so tired. Rest then, but you will not let go. I hear them talking. They do not think they can save my baby.

  There was sorrow in her mind, in her heart. A terrible weariness as if she had given up along with the doctors, as if she could no longer continue to struggle against the tremendous odds.

  Do not leave me alone!

  he cried out. It was a plea. An order.

  No one needs you as I do. Do not leave me alone ever again. Dayan. You are strong. So very strong. There will be another for you.

  Even in her darkest hour she was thinking of him. Of Cullen and Lisa. She was piecing it together in her mind. Their future. Their happiness. She arranged it the way she thought would work best.

  Dayan surrounded her waning spirit, locked her firmly to him.

  There will never be another for me. Never. Should I survive your loss and continue for all eternity, I would no longer be me, but something hideous, an abomination. An evil monster. I will not become such a creature. I would choose to follow you into the next life. We are one, Corinne. One. There is no Dayan without Corinne. You have no choice but to live. For the daughter you carry inside you. For me. For our unborn children. For Lisa. I will not release you. Not now. Not ever.

  He was much closer now, moving swiftly as the sun sank below the horizon. Colors splashed the sky blood red, and the wind was beginning to pick up, an ominous sign. Dayan was no longer the easygoing poet, the gentle man Corinne knew. He was a male Carpathian at full strength, and something was threatening his lifemate.

  He strode unseen past the doctors and nurses, leaving a freezing cold in his wake. Past Lisa, huddled in the room where Cullen lay pale and bandaged and still unconscious. Dayan spared his friend a quick glance, attempting to assess the damage as he hurried to Corinne. Without her, he couldn’t help Cullen or anyone else. His first thought, his first duty, was to Corinne.

  She lay on the bed, hooked up to lines and bottles. She was very pale, almost transparent. Despite the oxygen, there was a blue tint around her mouth. Corinne looked small and thin beneath the single cover. She looked a mere child, a waxen doll. She was laboring hard for each breath. Leads ran from her heart to a machine and from her abdomen to another machine. Dayan stood looking down at her, his heart in his throat. She looked so fragile, he was afraid to touch her.

  There was a familiar stirring in his mind. Warmth. Reassurance. Total confidence.

  Dayan? We are much closer. Bring her to the healers. We are gathering.

  It was Darius. His friend. His family. Darius could always be counted on.

  Dayan allowed himself to breathe.

  Cullen is in need. I cannot take the time to attend him. I will hold Corinne to me as long as I am able, but should I lose her, I will choose her path at once. I did not bind her and there has been no blood exchange, so I do not have the control needed for such a fight. You do have it, Dayan. You will not allow her to slip away from you.

  As always, Darius was completely confident.

  I will send help to Cullen. Barack and Syndil will go to him. He knows them and he will not be distressed. Come to us now. Bring your lifemate that together we may save her life.

  Dayan knelt beside the bed and took Corinne’s hand. For a moment it lay there in his larger palm limply, but then slowly her fingers curled around his. He watched her long lashes flutter before she managed to open her eyes. “Dayan.” There was a smile in her voice. “I think I was dreaming about you, or were we just talking?” Her voice was so low, such a faint thread of sound, he would never have heard her if he didn’t have such acute hearing.

  “I do not suppose you are aware that I love you.” He said the words against her temple, his lips brushing her pulse tenderly. “Did they talk to you? The doctors?”

  “They don’t have to talk to me. I know I’m dying.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to lose the baby. I want her to live.”

  “Do you trust me, Corinne? Really trust me?”

  Her eyes closed again as if it was too difficult to keep them open. “Yes, of course.”

  “No, honey, you have to know what you are saying. Do you trust me with your life? With the life of your baby?” He willed her to open her eyes and look at him.

  She blinked up at him. “I know what I’m saying.”

  “I am going to take you out of here.”

  “They won’t let you.” She closed her eyes again. It was a struggle just to breathe. Carrying on a conversation was far too difficult.

  “They cannot stop me.”

  Dayan studied the lines running in all directions for a few minutes, then as he unhooked her carefully, he produced the same rhythms as the monitors, simply using his brain to work them. He lifted her carefully into his strong arms and strode boldly right out of the room into the hall with her. He moved easily among the humans, shielding Corinne and himself from human eyes as he made his way out of the hospital and into the night.

  It was darker now and storm clouds were beginning to swirl above their heads. In his arms Corinne shivered, unable to maintain her body temperature. Dayan automatically did it for her, holding their mind-merge, breathing for her, aiding her failing heart. He took two running steps and leapt into the air with his slight burden held close to his heart.

  Chapter 10

  Corinne heard the whisper of a voice. Faint. Far off. She loved that voice, the way it caressed her name, turned it into something sinfully intimate. Dayan was calling her. She was dreaming, though, and it was a beautiful dream. She struggled to open her eyes. Voices surrounded her, seeped into her heart and soul. Strains of music. The sound of water. She became aware she was lying comfortably on something other than a bed. It seemed a great stone slab, but it didn’t feel hard. She lifted her lashes and stared up at the ceiling of a cave. She was in a crystal cave!

  Corinne looked around herself in sheer amazement. Everything was beautiful, a world of crystal and steam with the flickering light of a thousand candles. The air was scented with an aroma she had never smelled before, but she inhaled in an attempt to take it deep into her lungs. It was soothing, tranquil in this place, surreal even. She knew she was dreaming again, but if such a place could ne
ver actually exist, Corinne was grateful she could visit it in her dreams.

  She watched the dancing shadows flickering on the walls of the cave. The steam rose and swirled lazily, forming interesting shapes. It was difficult to focus on any one thing, and Corinne allowed her gaze to drift around the large chamber. She seemed to be in a subterranean city of some kind. There were many entrances and large open areas that she could see, almost as if the cave had a network of tunnels and chambers that ran deeper and also rose above where she was resting. The chamber she was in seemed very large, and a pool of steaming water was to her left. When she looked closer, she could see she was in a series of underground caves, with large cathedral ceilings and a stream that moved through a maze of tunnels. Stalactites formed huge sculptural works of arts, hanging from the ceiling. They were dazzling to look at. It seemed a sparkling world of gems and colors.

  It took a few moments to realize she wasn’t alone. There were several people in the large chamber with her. They were all around her and chanting in a foreign language. It was like a beautiful melody, dark and mysterious, a sacred ritual of some kind. The men were very handsome, their faces sober and intent, the women beautiful beyond description. The chanting filled the underground chamber with the haunting rhythm of the earth itself so that Corinne began to feel it in her veins. It was running through her like a river, ebbing and flowing with the cycle of life.