Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6)

by Christine Feehan

  Darius’s frame contorted, stretched, a muzzle lengthening and rounding as he bent, sinewy bands of muscles sliding to cover his body. Like stiletto blades, claws extended, then retracted until he needed them. His spine lengthened and became extremely flexible, shoulder blades widening themselves, giving him greater lateral balance. Padded paws allowed him to run silently. Black fur rippled, itching for a moment as it spread to cover the rapidly converting framework of muscle.

  The leopards were always quick, agile, cunning, and extremely dangerous. Often the hunter of a leopard became the prey. Of all the cat species, they were the most intelligent. Their brain development, Darius knew, was often compared to that of porpoises, and he had firsthand knowledge, centuries of it, of their ability to reason. But as always, when they went on a hunt together, Darius directed them.

  Sasha and Forest preferred to hunt from tree limbs, leaping onto unsuspecting prey from above. As a young child Darius had learned patience from their species. Now he, too, could wait and watch, remain completely motionless and silent or creep without detection through forest or jungle, stalking, belly to ground, inch by inch, with incredible muscle control. When he pounced, he did so with incredible swiftness, like those from whom he had learned the art. Early on, however, it had become apparent to him that, predatory as male Carpathians were, he could not afford to stay long in the body of a leopard, an untamed and instinctive killer, without destroying, rather than simply feeding from, his “prey.”

  Leopards used their long, sharp canines to grab, hold, puncture and tear. Their razor-sharp claws could slice through flesh like a knife. Though clever and bold, incredibly intelligent, they had quick mood swings that made them highly unpredictable. Still, their minds were always working, always meeting a challenge. Male Carpathians were far too close to the species to feed in precisely the same manner, to subdue the predatory beast raging within themselves while in the body of a leopard. It required the man, with his code of honor, his knowledge of right and wrong, rather than the law of the jungle, to feed without killing.

  Darius had great respect for leopards, knowing they were every bit as dangerous as he was, and he never lost sight of the wild traits in himself or in the cats. They were both silent, unseen predators, and when they went bad, just as his own species could, they became the devil incarnate.

  Right now, with the night enfolding him, with the scent of fresh game abundant, he felt the joy of the hunt, for many years the only pleasure he had known.

  Leopards were normally solitary hunters, but centuries ago Darius had learned to summon various cats together so that he might study the skills he needed. As a child he had not been strong enough to hunt alone, so he had developed his mental abilities before his brawn. And that had helped him stay sharp, hone his ability to mentally force compliance even as he acquired the skills of the hunter.

  Of all the cats, the leopard could be the most dangerous man-eater, often turning the tables on the professional hunters who tracked them. They were stealthy enough, bold enough to go silently into a camp and drag a victim out, most often undetected. Thus it was necessary to keep Sasha and Forest under control. There were many humans camping and tramping through these woods. The cats knew he hunted the humans, taking his sustenance from them, yet they also knew they were forbidden to bring down such easy prey. At times they were disgruntled and sulky over the standing order. He directed them toward the deer and other fauna in the area, wanting no possible mistakes. Sasha and Forest must feed first so they would be preoccupied with devouring their prey when he hunted for fresh blood.

  They moved as a unit, exploring the terrain. Darius scented a small herd of deer feeding tranquilly nearby. Like the mobile radar systems they were, the leopards proceeded silently. Their long whiskers, tapered to fine tips, read air currents and objects, so the cats and Darius could feel their way relentlessly forward toward their intended prey.

  Darius chose the target, searching for the two weakest animals in the group. The leopard ordinarily chose the easiest kill, the most unwary, the one that wandered in advertently close to the tree the leopard was utilizing.

  Sasha protested with a lift of her lip, but Darius pushed at her mind even as he drove his much heavier shoulder into her as a reprimand.

  She reacted with a silent snarl but leapt agilely into the limbs of a large evergreen. Stretching out her long body, she lay motionless, her amber eyes fixed on her prey. The doe moving toward her was older than Sasha would have liked, but Darius was huge, a good two hundred pounds of heavy, ferocious muscle, and neither cat attempted to defy him for long.

  Forest circled downwind of the stragglers in the herd toward the deer Darius had selected for him. He sank low into the bushes, his mottled fur blending easily with the vegetation. The doe was wary, lifting her muzzle every now and then, searching the air for a hint of danger. Forest moved an inch, froze, then moved again.

  Darius took up a position near the two deer, intending to drive them back if, for some reason, they got spooked, though Sasha and Forest were far too experienced to expose themselves or allow the wind to carry their scent to the prey. Darius further helped by simply stilling the wind, holding it away from the deer until Forest was within a scant foot of his doe and Sasha’s prey was directly beneath her tree limb. The big cats exploded into action simultaneously, startling the rest of the small herd. Deer ran in total panic, scattering through the trees, but the two victims remained behind.

  Darius left the cats after throwing a warning field around them, creating a dark, oppressive feel to the thickened air that would keep out any human campers or hunters who might wander too close to where the cats were feeding. Sasha and Forest knew the rules, but instincts as old as time had ruled them before their Carpathian companions did.

  Darius moved unerringly through the woods toward the human campsite. In his present form he could leap easily over fallen tree trunks or any other obstacle in his path. He reveled in the feel of his ropy muscles sliding under fur. Before losing his emotions he had always loved the night, and now, at long last, he could truly enjoy it, not through dim memories or by touching his sister’s mind, but through his own senses. The damp ground beneath his feet, the stirring of nocturnal creatures, the power surging through him, the wind blowing through the trees, making them sway and dance in rhythm. He even reveled in the relentless, aching hunger in his body.

  Tempest. She had brought colors into his world. Emotions. She had brought life back to the nearly dead. She allowed him to feel his love for and devotion to his family; it no longer need be feigned, a faint memory of emotion. Now, when he looked upon Desari, his heart warmed. When he saw Syndil, it was through the eyes of compassion, of deep affection.

  But what was he going to do about Tempest? She was human. It was forbidden to join with her. Yet he had spoken the ritual words to merge them. He had shared blood with her, and he would again. He knew it. The thought of her taste had his mouth salivating and his body hardening with a savage, relentless ache. She was addicting, her blood sating his terrible hunger as nothing else ever had. He knew, when his body claimed hers, that he would feast on her blood, would crave the exchange between them. The mere idea of her mouth against his skin was unbearably erotic.

  He pulled his mind sharply from the vivid picture. Already he had problems controlling his urge to mate with Tempest, to claim her completely. He owed it to her to let her get to know him. Still, she was made for him, his other half. He felt it in his heart, his mind, his very soul. When she grew old, he would choose to grow old with her, and he would choose the dawn. He made up his mind to go quietly from the world when she did.

  With that decision came peace. Desari had Julian now, and Barack and Dayan were capable of looking after Syndil. He would have his years with Tempest, long, happy years filled with love and laughter and the beauty of the world around them. He knew that his decision meant that he could no longer seek the restoring solace of the earth. Already he couldn’t bear to be separated from Temp
est for long. And she needed his protection.

  The smell of prey was heavy in his nostrils. A tent rose up in front of him, strung beneath a canopy of trees. Inside a male lay beside a female. The leopard crept stealthily into the canvas shelter, the smell of hot blood rushing through him and the beast within roaring for release. Crouched over the male’s strong, healthy body, Darius concentrated on Tempest. That softened the inner predator and allowed him to take his human form, to ensnare the couple with a veil of sleep, of acquiescence. The male turned to him and offered his throat. Darius felt the familiar sharpness of his fangs lengthening against his tongue and bent his head to drink.

  The first hint of unease hit him as he closed the pinpricks, ensuring that he left no evidence that he had been there. He shape-shifted, slipping covertly out of the tent before releasing the couple from the thrall of acceptance. The woman moaned softly, turned over, and moved closer to the male for protection. He reacted, even in his sleep, sliding his arm around her waist.

  Darius began to move quickly through the preserve, his body low and streamlined, swiftly and silently maneuvering amid the thick vegetation. He paused several yards from Sasha and Forest. The male leopard was still gorging himself, crouched over his kill. Sasha was already in the trees, the remainder of her carcass in the branches, cached for the following day.

  He continued on, his mind unexpectedly rippling with nightmare figures. A tall, burly man with huge arms and an intricate tattoo of a king cobra on his bulging biceps. When the muscle moved, the snake’s fangs would open wider. Slowly the man turned his head, his grin obscene and filled with triumph. The garage owner who had assaulted Tempest.

  Darius thrust his mind sharply into Tempest’s. The images were coming from her even in her sleep. Her distress was now so vivid, the broadcast so loud, that the cats behind him picked it up. He heard their familiar, eerie screams and sent them a quick command to be silent, to follow him straight to the camp.

  It required his full attention to hold Tempest’s mind with his, but centuries of honing his skills stood him in good stead. He soothed her, directing her thoughts away from the nightmare.

  Desari already had the trailer door open and stood aside as the huge leopard leapt easily into the vehicle, shape-shifting as it did so. Darius landed solidly on two feet, striding toward the couch. “She is afraid, a nightmare,” he stated softly, crouching beside the slight figure, barely sparing his sister a glance. “Leave us.”

  He knew Desari watched him for a long moment, felt her concern. He was acting totally out of character with Tempest, and it was obvious he had feelings for her. His very posture screamed of possession, of protection.

  “She is human, brother,” Desari said quietly.

  Darius emitted a low, rumbling growl of warning, the sound vibrating in his throat. Desari put a protective hand to her own throat and turned wide eyes on Julian, who had instantly materialized at the door the moment Darius issued the warning. Hastily Desari stepped outside. The tension remained high between her brother and Julian. They could not be considered friends by any means. Both were protective of her, but both were strong, powerful men who went their own way, made their own rules. As a result, their relationship was tenuous at best. Placing a hand squarely on Julian’s chest, Desari pushed her lifemate away from the trailer. He responded by wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her against his strong body, his mouth finding hers, at once hungry and tender.

  Darius ignored the entire byplay, his attention centered completely on Tempest. Her hair spilled around the pillow, and his hand, of its own accord, moved to capture the thick mass in his palm. His body tightened, clenched in an unrelenting ache. She looked so young and vulnerable in her sleep. Tempest tried to appear tough, but Darius knew she was in need of someone to protect her and share her life. She was so alone. It was in her mind. Sharing her thoughts and memories as he was doing, he discovered the same aching loneliness in her as dwelt deep within his own soul.

  Still, she was different from him in that she was filled with compassion and gentleness, everything he was not. For all the damage that had been done to her, she had no thoughts of revenge, no bitter hatred, only a quiet acceptance. She also had a firm resolve to stay clear of entanglements, to lead an uneventful, solitary existence.

  The patterns of her mind were interesting. She preferred the company of animals. She could understand them easily, their body language, their thoughts. She could communicate with them without words.

  Darius inhaled her scent, took it into his lungs, his body, and held it there. She was unique among humans, the way she could read the animals around her. It didn’t distress her—she loved animals—but the reactions of humans to her gift were always negative. Darius leaned down to lay his head over hers, beating back the rise of the beast within him roaring for freedom. His every instinct was to claim her irrevocably for all time. His body needed hers desperately. The wild craving for the taste of her was riding him hard.

  But she needed rest and care. She deserved some kind of courtship. It was her very vulnerability that kept the beast in him leashed. Darius knew himself well, his strengths and weaknesses. He was as merciless and harsh as the land he had grown up in. He was as savage and relentless as the leopards he had run with. He killed without emotion, without malice, but he killed when he deemed it necessary and never looked back.

  Tempest belonged to him. Somehow, and he had no idea how it had happened, a human was his other half. Her soul meshed with his, the jagged edges sealing perfectly together. He knew her body was made for his, that he would find in her the same fire that smoldered within him.

  Sleep deeply, honey, with no bad dreams. I will watch over you.

  He murmured the words softly in her mind, filling her head with pleasant dreams, with things he remembered from his childhood. The beauty of the savanna, the mystery of the monsoon, the abundance of colors, of animals. He conjured up the excitement of his first hunt with the leopards. He had tried to drop from the branches of a tree as he had seen the older animals doing but had landed feet in front of his intended victim, inadvertently sending it scurrying out of reach. He found himself smiling at the memory, smiling as she was doing in her sleep.

  His hand closed over hers. Waterfalls, the magnificence of frothy, foaming water cascading hundreds of feet. Crocodiles, antelope. A pride of lions. With the details came the smells and feel and lulling heat of Africa. He shared it all with her, replacing the terrible events of her day, of her past, replacing her nightmare with something beautiful.

  You’re a remarkable man, Darius.

  He went still. Not a muscle in his body moved. Even his breathing ceased. He examined her face. She had spoken to him telepathically. It was not on the same path used among his family. It was different, more intimate. But it was her voice; there was no mistaking that. Somehow, in her compulsion-and-herb-induced sleep, she was still aware of his presence in her mind. It was unbelievable that a human could have such powers.

  He examined her mind again. It was nothing like the human minds he was accustomed to. It intrigued him, its layers and compartments, as if she had things neatly filed and locked away. Perhaps he had been too complacent about her.

  You can hear me?

  he asked in her mind.

  Don’t

  you want me to hear you? Why else are you

  telling

  me of all

  these

  wonderful places and exciting memories if you didn’t want me to hear you?

  He again noticed the velvet huskiness of her voice, like a drowsy caress, a lover turning her body mindlessly into his. Did she always sound that way? Did the others hear that sexy, erotic note in her voice?

  This way of communicating does not frighten you?

  he asked.

  I’m dreaming. I don’t mind dreaming about you. You’re sharing my mind; I’m sharing yours. I know your only wish is to help me sleep without nightmares.

  Could it be that simple? Did she
believe she was dreaming the whole thing? Darius brought her hand to the warmth of his mouth. He was smiling as he kissed her knuckles. Her hand was still bruised from her fight earlier in the day. Without conscious thought, he stroked his tongue over the dark purple-and-blue mark.

  Sleep, baby. Sleep deep, and worry about nothing

  .

  Allow your body to heal. Good night, Darius. Don’t you worry so much about me. I’m like a cat: I always land on my feet.

  Chapter Four

  Tempest woke slowly, as if emerging through a layer of hazy clouds. She was sore, every muscle protesting when she moved, yet not nearly as much as she had expected. She sat up, looking warily around her. Her body was alive with feeling, her skin sensitive beyond belief. She remembered the horror of the attack on her like a vague nightmare. What was vivid and sharp, every detail imprinted forever in her mind, was the memory of Darius’s tongue caressing every bruise, taking away her pain and fear, replacing it with erotic, burning pleasure. She wanted to believe that one was a nightmare and the other a romantic dream, but Tempest always looked reality in the face. It was how she lived, how she survived. She might lie to someone else if it was necessary but never to herself. The things Darius had done in her dream world were all too real. She had been in some kind of a trance, half awake, half asleep. And they had talked to one another using only their minds, in much the same way she communicated with animals, only using words, not just images. Telepathy.