Dark Song

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by Christine Feehan




  Titles by Christine Feehan

  The GhostWalker Novels

  LETHAL GAME

  TOXIC GAME

  COVERT GAME

  POWER GAME

  SPIDER GAME

  VIPER GAME

  SAMURAI GAME

  RUTHLESS GAME

  STREET GAME

  MURDER GAME

  PREDATORY GAME

  DEADLY GAME

  CONSPIRACY GAME

  NIGHT GAME

  MIND GAME

  SHADOW GAME

  The Drake Sisters Novels

  HIDDEN CURRENTS

  TURBULENT SEA

  SAFE HARBOR

  DANGEROUS TIDES

  OCEANS OF FIRE

  The Leopard Novels

  LEOPARD’S WRATH

  LEOPARD’S RUN

  LEOPARD’S BLOOD

  LEOPARD’S FURY

  WILD CAT

  CAT’S LAIR

  LEOPARD’S PREY

  SAVAGE NATURE

  WILD FIRE

  BURNING WILD

  WILD RAIN

  The Sea Haven/Sisters of the Heart Novels

  BOUND TOGETHER

  FIRE BOUND

  EARTH BOUND

  AIR BOUND

  SPIRIT BOUND

  WATER BOUND

  The Shadow Riders Novels

  SHADOW FLIGHT

  SHADOW WARRIOR

  SHADOW KEEPER

  SHADOW REAPER

  SHADOW RIDER

  The Torpedo Ink Novels

  DESOLATION ROAD

  VENDETTA ROAD

  VENGEANCE ROAD

  JUDGMENT ROAD

  The Carpathian Novels

  DARK SONG

  DARK ILLUSION

  DARK SENTINEL

  DARK LEGACY

  DARK CAROUSEL

  DARK PROMISES

  DARK GHOST

  DARK BLOOD

  DARK WOLF

  DARK LYCAN

  DARK STORM

  DARK PREDATOR

  DARK PERIL

  DARK SLAYER

  DARK CURSE

  DARK HUNGER

  DARK POSSESSION

  DARK CELEBRATION

  DARK DEMON

  DARK SECRET

  DARK DESTINY

  DARK MELODY

  DARK SYMPHONY

  DARK GUARDIAN

  DARK LEGEND

  DARK FIRE

  DARK CHALLENGE

  DARK MAGIC

  DARK GOLD

  DARK DESIRE

  DARK PRINCE

  Anthologies

  EDGE OF DARKNESS

  (with Maggie Shayne and Lori Herter)

  DARKEST AT DAWN

  (includes Dark Hunger and Dark Secret)

  SEA STORM

  (includes Magic in the Wind and Oceans of Fire)

  FEVER

  (includes The Awakening and Wild Rain)

  FANTASY

  (with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)

  LOVER BEWARE

  (with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)

  HOT BLOODED

  (with Maggie Shayne, Emma Holly, and Angela Knight)

  Specials

  DARK CRIME

  THE AWAKENING

  DARK HUNGER

  MAGIC IN THE WIND

  BERKLEY

  An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

  penguinrandomhouse.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Christine Feehan

  Penguin Random House supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin Random House to continue to publish books for every reader.

  BERKLEY and the BERKLEY & B colophon are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Feehan, Christine, author.

  Title: Dark song / Christine Feehan.

  Description: First edition. | New York : Berkley, 2020. | Series: A Carpathian novel

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019059049 (print) | LCCN 2019059050 (ebook) |

  ISBN 9780593099834 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780593099827 (ebook)

  Subjects: LCSH: Paranormal romance stories. | GSAFD: Fantasy fiction. | Occult fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3606.E36 D3896 2020 (print) |

  LCC PS3606.E36 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019059049

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019059050

  Jacket image of woman by Michael Nelson / Trevillion Images

  Jacket design by Judith Lagerman

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  pid_prh_5.6.0_c0_r0

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Titles by Christine Feehan

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  For My Readers

  Acknowledgments

  Dark Song

  Carpathian Family Trees

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Appendix 1: Carpathian Healing Chants

  Appendix 2: The Carpathian Language

  About the Author

  For my amazing team:

  Denise, Domini, Brian, Sheila.

  You are the best of the best.

  FOR MY READERS

  Be sure to go to christinefeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my private book announcement list and download the free ebook of Dark Desserts. Join my community and get firsthand news, enter the book discussions, ask your questions and chat with me. Please feel free to email me at [email protected]. I would love to hear from you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As with any book, there are so many people to thank: Brian and Sheila, for competing with me during power hours. Domini, for always editing, no matter how many times I ask her to go over the same book before we send it for additional editing. Denise, for staying up nights and letting me write while she did the brunt of the business I never want to do. I can’t thank you enough.

  DARK SONG

  By Caedyn Feehan

  Through the howling of the wind, a whisper can be heard;

  A soft serenade, piŋe sarnanak, feel my words.

  A slumber for the ages, hidden within your retreat;

  Awaken from your nightmare
, feel the ground beneath your feet.

  There’s light in the darkness, waiting to be seen;

  Just as I wait for you, a king for his queen.

  The earth may shake, and rivers may swell;

  Yet here I stand, ready to break the spell.

  The fog along the ridge, drifting through the trees;

  A shadow in the distance, nothing but a breeze.

  The rain upon a fire, frenzied and in need;

  A blessing for all life, and fortune for the seed.

  What once was a blaze, grows stronger than before;

  A metal in the forge, turns a sword for the war.

  A life of hope sings to you, melodies of devotion;

  A world of love awaits, vaster than the ocean.

  As the hues of the sky, shift upon the shore;

  The reds once gray, a spectrum once more.

  The waves among the rocks, music of the sea,

  Thunderous harmonies carry you to me.

  Hand in hand we are strong;

  Sing with me, it’s to you I belong.

  I’ll be the bright star, in the dark hour of night;

  When you’re feeling lost, I will be your light.

  I am by your side with every step you take;

  Fighting every demon, your love I won’t forsake.

  When evil seeks a place, deep within your mind;

  I will be your shield, protecting what’s inside.

  I can’t heal your scars or take away the pain;

  But I can be your shelter, a refuge all the same.

  I’ll teach you the words, and show you the way;

  You’re strong on your own but tell me you’ll stay.

  A symphony of power rolling through the land;

  You and I together, here we make our stand.

  Once blinded by the wicked, now your eyes are clear;

  Look inside yourself, there’s nothing left to fear.

  The cage has collapsed, the prisoner stands tall;

  The battle is ours to end, once and for all.

  Now tell me this and tell me true;

  Say you’ll choose me, as I chose you.

  What once was a blaze, grows stronger than before;

  A metal in the forge, turns a sword for the war.

  A life of hope sings to you, melodies of devotion;

  A world of love awaits, vaster than the ocean.

  1

  Through the howling of the wind, a whisper can be heard;

  A soft serenade, piŋe sarnanak, feel my words.

  Sound woke her. Elisabeta Trigovise didn’t want to be awake. She wanted to sleep forever, but those weeping notes refused to allow her to succumb to her need to hide from the world. Like the drops of rain drumming softly into the earth, feeding the soil, those notes slipped into her mind with a song of rising. More and more that gentle melody awakened her on each rising, became more insistent that she comply more fully. That she more than just wake to feed and go straight back to slumber.

  Whereas before, the song was in her mind, now it sank into her body, her blood and bones, her heart and soul, calling to her persistently, and she knew it was the call of her lifemate—one she couldn’t ignore. She didn’t dare ignore. It didn’t matter how terrified she was of him. She had to answer.

  There was safety beneath the ground. Solace. No one could get to her. She was alone and no demands could be put on her, but she had known all along it wasn’t going to last. Every rising, each time the sun set, the danger began. She tried to sleep, but they came to feed her. At first many had come. Different ones. That had been frightening, but the blood had revived her, made her stronger, and no one had asked anything of her. She was allowed to go back to sleep in the healing soil to repair her body and fractured mind. Now, only he gave her blood.

  Elisabeta tried not to waken, but it was too late, the song had played through her mind, those beautiful weeping notes of rain. The sun had set, and the moment it did, her body had tuned to it. She was Carpathian, that ancient race paralyzed during daylight hours and needing blood to sustain their lives. There were few of them left in the world, and the fight to keep from dying out was made worse by the vampires trying to kill them.

  A little shudder went through her body. Elisabeta had been tricked by a friend when she’d been young and naïve, and she’d been kidnapped, taken from her home and family and hidden away by one such vampire for centuries. She no longer remembered that young girl, or her family. She’d been reduced to this woman who hid herself away in the ground, too terrified of everything and everyone to show herself. Sergey Malinov—the master vampire—would come for her and he would use her to destroy everyone who had shown her any kindness because that was what he did. He would never let her escape him. Never.

  The moment she surfaced, he would use her, and they had no idea how powerful he was. They had rescued her, and he was angry, whispering to her, trying to get past the barriers and shields they had erected to protect her, but he was there, crouched and waiting to strike. She knew him, knew he was wholly evil. There were children in this compound, this place her rescuers thought safe. No one was safe from Sergey, least of all children.

  The world had passed her by while she lived in a cage, with only her sadistic captor for company. One moment he could be falsely sweet; the next, savagely ugly, torturing her, starving her, hurting others in front of her. Leaving her alone for long periods of time so that she thought she would slowly starve to death and even welcomed that end. He was her only company. She couldn’t speak unless he gave her permission. She made no decisions for herself and so, after centuries, no longer knew how to make them.

  She had been rescued, put in the healing grounds to recover from the wounds to body and mind, but there was no recovery from centuries of captivity. She had no idea how to fend for herself. She was terrified of having to talk to strangers. They had told her she had a brother and that he had searched for her for centuries. She had thought of that often, ashamed that when she tried to remember him, her mind seemed to explode with pain, rejecting the idea of her past. She knew they would expect her to remember him, but she didn’t.

  She didn’t remember herself as a young Carpathian woman, nor did she remember her parents. Her mind had been fractured, and no amount of healing in the earth was going to change that. She wasn’t that same girl who had been taken from her home. She was—nothing. No one. She wanted to remain where she was, hidden away from everyone, but she knew her time was fast running out. Her lifemate had found her. Just thinking of him made her heart pound out of control. She knew better. She knew to control herself. That simple sound would alert him, and of course it did.

  Elisabeta.

  His voice filled her mind. Calm. Soothing. A masterful voice. One always in control, unlike her. Her heart accelerated even more. Panic began to set in. At once the ground above her opened before she could begin to struggle for air. He did that for her. She hadn’t done it for herself and it shamed her that she always had to be taken care of. The least little detail of her life had to be arranged for her because she didn’t know how to do it.

  She couldn’t provide herself with clothing, and if her lifemate knew, he might be angry. If she spoke without permission, he might be angry. Punishments could be terrible. She didn’t know the rules in this new world or with this man. She only knew what she sensed of him—that he was an ancient, far older than Sergey and much more dangerous. He terrified her on so many levels, but then everything did.

  She had been befriended by a woman, Julija, a strong woman who walked her own path, walked beside her lifemate and made her own decisions. Elisabeta had dared to defy Sergey and secretly talked with her. She wanted to be strong like her but knew she never would be. Hundreds of years of captivity and silence, of having someone telling her what to do, of punishme
nts and fear, had shaped her into this terrified being she had come to despise. She no longer knew who she was or what she was, only that she had no purpose, and she was so tired of being afraid.

  She stayed very still and remained silent, terrified of being tricked. She kept her eyes closed tightly, even with the ground above her open, afraid of seeing where she was. She hadn’t been out of a cage in hundreds of years. Open spaces made her feel sick and disoriented. She didn’t know how to process space.

  Speak to me, lifemate.

  Her heart sank. That was a direct order. The first he had ever given to her. It mattered little that his voice was so different from Sergey’s. He was her master and could torture her, deprive her of food, kill others in front of her. Her heart pounded out of control. What would you have me say?

  There was a small silence that terrified her even more. Had she angered him? She really didn’t know what he wanted from her.

  Elisabeta, listen to my heartbeat. You are panicking for no reason. We are merely having a conversation. Breathe with me. Listen to my heartbeat and follow with yours.

  She made the mistake of lifting her lashes, just for a second. Surrounding her, she could see what appeared to be balconies where people could stand and look down onto the healing grounds where she lay. They could see her. Full-blown panic had taken hold and she couldn’t find air. Her body nearly convulsed. She tried to curl into the fetal position, to sink deeper into the healing soil, allowing the rich minerals to blanket her body and hide her from any prying eyes.

  She sank into waiting arms. Strong arms. She had always fantasized about being held when she needed it most. She longed for human contact—was often desperate for it—and now, somehow, she had made her fantasy so real she felt a very hard male body surrounding hers, holding her safe. With her eyes closed tight, she felt him surround her with his warmth, his heat. His breath was in her ear, his chest rising and falling behind her back.

  Breathe with me, piŋe sarnanak, follow the rhythm of my heart.

  Her heart tuned almost automatically to his, before she could do so intentionally. The breath moved in and out of her starving lungs, pulling air into her. The air smelled of rain, of rich soil and unexpectedly of juniper and allspice mixed together. He had called her “little songbird.” That didn’t seem so bad, an endearment in the ancient Carpathian language. Her heart stuttered a little at the gentleness in the way he treated her.

 

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