Dark Desire (Dark Series - book 2)

by Christine Feehan

  Shea became aware of a voice. She lay silently, not certain where she was. For a moment it seemed as if everything was some far-off echo of a nightmare. But when she studied her surroundings, she knew she was in an underground chamber. Beside her, Raven lay like death. Someone had scattered earth and sweet-smelling herbs over her body.

  Cautiously, testing her strength, Shea sat up and shoved impatiently at the hair spilling around her face. Her arm was sore and stung in so many places that it seemed like one massive ache. She touched her shoulder, and her hand came away sticky with blood and dirt. Wincing at the contact, Shea bent to examine Raven.

  There seemed to be no pulse, no heartbeat. Her face was white and serene, very beautiful. Shea sighed. She looked the way Jacques had every time he went to sleep. Unable to do anything for the other woman, Shea stood up and stretched. She felt uneasy without Jacques and wanted to reach out to him, but she knew instinctively that he needed to feed. She studied the chamber until she figured out where the entrance was.

  First she tried to find a hidden mechanism to open it. She ran her hands over every square inch. Feeling claustrophobic, her heart beginning to pound, she sank back and thought about it. Jacques would never allow her to be buried alive. There had to be a way out. She glared up at the dirt above her head and focused on it.

  Open right now!

  The picture was vivid in her mind, and the command was strong. Still, she was totally shocked when the earth above her parted and she could see the floorboards of the cabin.

  Excited, Shea climbed out of the chamber and resealed the entrance with another sharp command. Feeling proud of her newfound powers, she entered the cabin using the trapdoor. She needed the human act of taking a shower to give her the illusion of normalcy. She doubted she would ever be able to give up her human ways entirely.

  Far away, Jacques lifted his head in alarm. Blood gushed in a warm trail down the hunter’s neck to his shoulder. Cursing, Jacques bent once more to feed. How had Shea woken without his permission? Was she really so strong that she could resist his commands? She should still be asleep, yet she was outside the protection of the chamber. He had to hurry.

  Shea stepped off the front porch dressed in clean clothes, her hair still damp. It was impossible to find a sign of the life-and-death struggle that had taken place the morning before. She could only conclude that Gregori and Jacques had cleaned things up. It occurred to her that the Carpathians had been doing so for hundreds of years and were probably experts at it.

  The thought turned her stomach, and she wandered out under the trees. The leaves collected raindrops and dumped them on her head, but she didn’t mind. It made her feel a part of nature. She didn’t want to go too far in case Raven needed her protection, so she walked along the pathway to her herb garden. She bent to touch a leaf, battered and bruised by the pounding storm. A shadow crossed her mind, dark and sinister. She found herself shivering uncontrollably. She straightened quickly and whirled to face the tall, pale stranger as he emerged from the forest.

  He was physically beautiful, breathtaking. Shea had never seen a more handsome man. His eyes were deep set and sad, magnetic. It was impossible to tell his age. His smile held sorrow. “I am sorry I startled you. I can hear your heart beating.”

  Shea took an involuntary step backward, mainly because she wanted to step closer to him. His pull was strong, and she felt caught in a spell. “Who are you?” Her voice was a whisper of wonder.

  “Do you not know me? I have searched the length of the world for you. Why did you not answer my call?” His words were mild, but they held a hiss of anger.

  Shea held her ground, but her mouth had gone dry. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

  “You woke to my call. You came here to me. You are my beloved Maggie. If your desire was to punish me with your silence, you have done so thoroughly. Now you must forgive me and come away from this place and from the one whose stench is all over you.” This time, his voice dropped to a low snarl.

  Shea fought down the desire to call for Jacques. “Are you Rand?”

  He stepped closer to her, and her stomach lurched in protest. “How is it you do not know me? Were you injured? Has the dark one destroyed your memories and planted his own?”

  Shea pressed a hand into her protesting stomach and took another step into the forest to put distance between them. “I don’t understand. Why do you call Jacques the dark one? I thought that expression was reserved solely for the healer.”

  The hiss was deadly. “He is evil, Maggie. He and his brother tried to destroy us. I thought they had taken you from me and I was right. The crazy one plotted his revenge, and he lured you to his place of death, and now you are trapped in their web of lies.” He advanced again, and, like a macabre dance partner, Shea retreated.

  Was this her father? Was this Rand? Had he really been searching for Maggie, believing her alive all this time? He seemed so tormented, so sincere, she wanted to comfort him, wanted to put her arms around him and hold him, yet something held her back. “I think you’re confusing me with my mother. I am Shea O’Halloran. If you are Rand, then you are my father.”

  “You have been with him, Maggie. You know he is capable of twisting your mind, bending you to his will. He placed memories in your head, memories you think are real. It is not so. He wanted revenge for the death of his sister. They blamed me because I loved you. They forced me into the ground and punished you by keeping us apart. It is the truth. They even took my son from me and gave him to another to raise. They turned him against me so that he was loyal only to them.”

  Everything seemed so hazy, her mind confused and sluggish. He was stalking her now, following her every backward movement with a forward one, bending his head closer toward her throat. She should allow him to feed, shouldn’t she? Even if she wasn’t Maggie, she was his daughter, and he was so alone and tormented. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, his will pushing at hers, his hunger beating at both of them. She didn’t want this. What was happening to her that she was standing so still, waiting for him to take her blood, when every cell in her body shrieked at her to ran?

  Shea! God, love, get away from him. I do not know what he is doing, but you are in danger. Do not let him take your blood.

  Jacques’ voice was strong in her mind.

  Shea leapt away, putting distance between herself and the tall, handsome man. “You’re scaring me.” As always when emotions threatened her, she forced her brain to take over, find a way out for her. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. You’re saying Jacques and Mikhail planned to keep us apart because you didn’t love their sister?” Shea held up her hands imploringly, her large green eyes shamelessly pleading.

  He halted a few feet from her, visibly relaxing now that she was seeking answers from him. “They believed me responsible for Noelle’s death because I left her unprotected while I was with you. She was murdered by Slovensky and his friends.”

  “Did you know Slovensky?” she asked quietly, holding her breath. Could her father be responsible for all the deaths? Could he be the vampire?

  “Had I ever met the man, I would have broken his neck on the spot. He and he alone is responsible for Noelle’s death. I may not have loved her, but she bore me a child.” He tilted his head, and it was easy to get lost in his dark, mysterious eyes.

  Shea felt behind her for a solid tree trunk, needing to touch something real. This was all some gigantic spider web, so sticky with intrigue that she had no idea where to turn. Something wasn’t right. She was becoming confused, her mind playing tricks on her. Deliberately she pressed her palm into the bark of the tree in an attempt to focus on something that might break the spell he was weaving around her.

  J am your lifemate, my love. J am the one you turn to when you are afraid and in need.

  Jacques’ voice was firm, and she sensed him close by.

  Shea mentally shook herself. It was like being tugged in two different directions.
She knew she was Maggie’s daughter. Rand might believe what he was saying, but she knew who she was. Didn’t she?

  Rand gave a gentle sigh. “All of us are capable of planting memories, Maggie. It is reasonable to assume they would say you are your own daughter. That way they would be able to say there was no chance we could be together. Do you not see the brilliance of such a deception, of such a revenge? It would last a lifetime.”

  “A Carpathian has only one lifemate. I am Jacques’.” She pushed at her hair, found her hand trembling, and put it behind her back.

  “He has had plenty of time to work on your memories. Years. He worked his way into your mind and then took you over. Do you really believe he could have lived all those years in that cellar?” His voice was soft and reasonable.

  Her head hurt so badly, Shea could barely think. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, Rand had glided closer, was bending once more to her throat.

  Get away!

  Thewords were so sharp and clear, Shea scrambled away, lost her footing, and fell across a fallen log. Jacques was furious, and his rage was a hideous thing. He dropped like a silent phantom out of the sky to reach her before Rand could. His fingers closed around her arm, possessive and unyielding. As he helped her to her feet, he thrust her body behind his and faced her father.

  “What are doing, Rand?” he snapped. His voice was low and ominous.

  Rand smiled gently, calmly. “And do you now kill me, too? You are a bloodthirsty one, are you not? You claim I am her father, yet you are eager to slay me.” He looked directly into Shea’s eyes. “Does this make sense?” His voice was low and sad. “That he might want to destroy your father?”

  “You are deliberately trying to confuse her.” Jacques’ face, worn and lined, was hardened with anger. Shea found herself studying its every beloved detail. All at once she didn’t think Rand quite so handsome. There seemed something sinister about his perfect good looks and his thin-lipped smile. Rand seemed without emotion, almost lifeless, his sorrow unreal, while Jacques’ powerful form was trembling with volcanic emotion. His mind was a red haze of swirling anger and fear that he might lose her, that he had inadvertently placed her in danger. The rage was toward Rand that he would betray his own daughter.

  Rand sighed softly and shook his head. “How easily you allow yourself to be tricked by this dark vampire. Your own neck holds the answers you seek. The wounds there are torn and ragged. Who but a vampire feeds so carelessly? Does a loving lifemate abuse his woman in this manner? When he killed this morning, using your innocence and your very mind and soul to aid him, was he not feeling joy? When you begged him to stop, did he not continue? And when he came to you with blood on his hands, could you not see the dark desire and hunger in his mind, in his eyes, in his body? Could you not see the dark compulsion of the kill? Vampires are very clever, my dear, and you have fallen under his spell.”

  Jacques regarded the older man with black, empty eyes. “Do you challenge me?”

  Shea gasped. Jacques and her father? She pressed both hands to her head. She couldn’t stand this confrontation, being fought over like some dog’s bone. She didn’t even know what was true and what wasn’t anymore.

  Yes, you do, little red hair. He is attempting to bewitch you. He thought me occupied with Byron. He thought he could lure you from the safety of our people. He will not accept a fair challenge.

  Jacques attempted to reassure her. She was fighting to stay calm, but Shea had suffered far too much trauma in the last few days. Jacques was certain Rand had not only planned for that but also counted on it to sway her.

  Rand’s smile was calm. “I would not wish to cause Maggie any further grief. But be warned, dark one, you would be hunted and destroyed if Mikhail were not your brother. You have deceived and hurt this woman I love, and I will not allow you to get away with it. But I would not be the cause of her further distress.”

  Jacques bared his fangs. “I was certain you would say something of that nature. You prefer to do your dirty work through trickery.”

  Rand raised an eyebrow. “Listen to him, my dear. Next he will be accusing me of associating with the human murderers. Are you going to say I tried to kill Byron? What about Noelle? Perhaps I was responsible for what happened to you and my own son, too. You are the vampire, Jacques, and you are powerful enough to deceive one such as Gregori. I would be a fool to fight you when you are holding Maggie hostage.”

  Shea clutched at the back of Jacques’ shirt. “Rand, you’re wrong about him. I look like Maggie, but I’m your daughter. And I would know if he was truly a vampire.”

  Rand looked at her with sad eyes. “How many times have you asked yourself what he is? Did you not feel his joy in the kill? He wanted it, welcomed it, and he fed voraciously. You cannot deny this is so. Who better than Jacques to set this entire thing up? Noelle was his sister, and he adored her. He led the others away from you and from his brother’s woman. He killed the humans because they could identify him.” He bowed his head tiredly. “I cannot convince you, I know this, but in time you will see that I am right. Tell me, Maggie, did you not see me differently when he arrived? Perhaps more like a villain? I wonder who projected that image to you? I doubt that I would have done so myself.”

  “Her mind was calmer and able to see more clearly with my presence, as you well know. Be gone, Rand, back to the hole you crawled from.” Jacques gestured, his face dark with anticipation, his body poised and ready should Rand attack.

  Rand simply faded from their sight, his soft laughter sending shivers down Shea’s spine. Instantly she stepped away from Jacques, her green eyes not meeting his.

  With gentle fingers he tipped up her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his. “I love you, Shea. I have no way to combat the lies he has told until we can be free of my debt to Byron. Reserve judgment until I am able to talk this out with you.”

  His voice was so loving, his touch so tender, it turned her heart over. She found herself drowning in the mesmerizing depth of his black eyes. She wanted to do whatever he wished. Her body responded to his, to the tormented look of him, to the desperate hunger in him. Her body flared to life and called to his, going soft and pliant with anticipation. Her breasts ached, and she burned for his touch.

  Shea jerked her gaze away, stepped back so that his body heat could not affect hers, so that the electricity crackling and arcing between them was broken. Shaken, she shoved a trembling hand through her hair. “How are you going to convince me, Jacques? With sex?”

  He was smoldering with need, a dark hunger that never ceased. Once it had risen, it had grown until the urgency nearly overwhelmed him. She was essentially human and could not understand, did not even know of the heat that rose between lifemates. “Love, you are smart enough for the both of us. You can figure out for yourself who is telling the truth. Rand is sick. I wish it was not so, but if he truly believed you to be your mother, he would have attacked me immediately. A lifemate can do no other than guard his woman. That has been our way for all time. No other man can be with her. He is trading on your ignorance of Carpathian ways. I do not need to convince you of what is in my heart or of what is in yours. I know I am damaged. You know it, too. But you would feel it if I was truly evil. You would know it. There would be no way I could hide it.” He held out a hand to her. “Just think it through with that logical brain you have. I trust you to come up with your own answer.”

  “Jacques.” She hesitated, wanting to touch him, needing to touch him, but afraid of being lost in the sexual lure she couldn’t seem to resist. “How do I know if I’m the one thinking for myself when you’re always with me, always sharing my mind?”

  “You will have to figure that out for yourself. Shea.” His black eyes moved lovingly over her face. “You know me better than anyone, and I have never tried to hide anything from you. If you brand me a monster, even I will believe you.” His smile was gentle and reassuring.

  Shea took a deep breath and laced her fingers with his. It
felt right and natural. The sparks jumped from his skin to hers, and her pulse raced, but she walked quietly through the woods with him, content just to be by his side. Jacques seemed so much a part of her, the air she breathed. She accepted it because he made her complete.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gregori was an impressive figure. Shea watched him as he knelt beside Raven, his entire attention seemed to be concentrated on the woman lying so still. “Have you attended to Shea’s injuries?” The soft inquiry startled Shea. He addressed Jacques, asking the male, as was his irritating way.

  “The wounds are closing,” Jacques assured him.

  Rand drew Shea alone into the woods. He is the betrayer, healer. I walked away from him because he is linked to Shea. He could make her feel whatever I did to him. He is very dangerous. I cannot be the one to bring him to justice. Shea would never forgive me.

  “Don’t do that, Jacques,” Shea said with a little bite in her voice. She was exasperated with him. “I know you’re talking to Gregori. If you have something to say, say it out loud so that I can hear you. You think Rand is the vampire, don’t you?”

  The thought was in her mind also, and it made her feel disloyal. She knew something was wrong with Rand; perhaps Maggie’s death had twisted his mind so he was living in the past. But something Rand had said in the course of their strange conversation was niggling at her brain. Something she couldn’t put a finger on.

  Gregori passed a hand over Raven’s stomach, his fingers splayed wide. His touch lingered for a moment, a surprisingly tender gesture, then he turned to Shea. “Jacques knows his duty to you, Shea. This man, Rand, the one who is your birth father, was never in your life. Hold on to what is real, not to your childhood fantasies.”

  “You don’t know the first thing about my childhood, fantasy or not,” Shea snapped, goaded beyond endurance by his unruffled, superior attitude. Gregori definitely grated on her. She suspected it was because he was always using logic.