Dark Fire (Dark Series - book 6)

by Christine Feehan

  Soft, mocking laughter echoed in her head.

  There you go, looking again. Pay attention to what you are doing or we might have to fire you. Desari wouldn’t let you. Go back to sleep while the sun is still up.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Syndil emerged from the trailer, confirming Rusti’s belief that Darius was able to communicate privately with each member of his family as he did with her. He must have filled them in on what had transpired while they slept and the cover stories Tempest had provided for each of them.

  Cullen nearly fell over backward watching Syndil approach. His mouth actually fell open, his gaze on her swaying hips and her wealth of raven hair. Syndil smiled in her sweet, shy way at Cullen as Rusti introduced them. She looked unusually beautiful, an exotic beauty who could steal a man’s breath. Indeed, Cullen looked as though someone had struck him in the head with a two-by-four, as he stammered out a greeting to the black-haired musician.

  “How nice of you to join us, Mr. Tucker,” Syndil said softly, her voice as soft and gentle as the breeze surrounding them. “I hope Rusti is seeing to all your needs. We have plenty of refreshments in the bus.”

  Cullen shoved a hand through his blond hair, messing it up even more than the long ride had done. “Oh, yeah, sure. She’s been great.”

  “And the truck is fixed, Rusti?” Syndil asked politely, trying not to smile at Cullen’s reaction to her. It had been a while since anyone had made her feel beautiful and desirable. She knew that was her own fault, hiding from the world, but now, with Cullen Tucker making her feel alive again, she was suddenly happy.

  “No problem,” Tempest replied.

  Syndil reached out and caught Tempest’s right hand, turning it over to examine the scraped knuckles. “You are bleeding. You have hurt yourself.” There was tremendous concern in her voice, on her expressive face. She glanced up at Cullen, a mischievous and sexy smile on her mouth even while her palm settled over Tempest’s, soothing the scrapes. “Does Darius know you have a friend visiting?”

  Tempest felt color sweeping into her face. Syndil knew very well why Cullen Tucker was there. She was just subtly teasing her. Syndil smiled at Cullen. “Darius is crazy about Rusti, and he is a very jealous man. Perhaps you should stick close to me so I might offer my protection.”

  Cullen looked happy with that idea. “Do you think I need protection?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Syndil assured him, flirting outrageously. “Darius never allows anyone near Rusti.”

  “That isn’t true, Cullen.” At least Tempest hoped she was telling the truth. Darius allowed the women around her. It seemed to be only men he objected to.

  “Is this a party?” Dayan came striding out of the woods, a backpack on his shoulders and a small tent folded neatly into a cube in his hands. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

  “Because you’re such a grouch when we try to wake you up,” Syndil greeted him, winking at Tempest. She went up on her toes and brushed a kiss on Dayan’s chin. “It’s okay. We forgive you. You can join us now if you like. Rusti has invited a friend to visit.”

  Dayan instantly offered his free hand to Cullen, a welcoming grin on his face. “My name is Dayan. Any friend of Rusti’s is a friend of ours.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes shifting from Cullen to Tempest and back again. “Does Darius know you’re here? Have you met him?”

  Cullen glanced uneasily at Tempest. “I’m beginning to think coming here wasn’t such a great idea. Just how jealous is this bodyguard?”

  Dayan laughed softly. “Darius has this thing about his little darling.”

  “I am not his ‘little darling’!” Tempest denied hotly. “I’m not his anything.” I

  know you can hear every word being said. You’re deliberately making Cullen squirm. Come out here right now!

  she groused to Darius.

  It is not only Cullen Tucker who appears to be nervous.

  Darius responded complacently.

  And you are mine, my everything. You really need to get out of fantasy land, Darius.

  Dayan had the audacity to ruffle Tempest’s hair as if they were old family friends. “You are definitely Darius’s only love, and he does not share well.”

  Syndil nodded solemnly. “He really does not. I don’t think he learned how to as a child.” Her dark eyes were lit with mischief, something those around her were grateful to see. “Really, Mr. Tucker—or may I call you Cullen—I will protect you.”

  Cullen again ran a hand through his hair. “No man is willing to share the woman he loves, Syndil. But Tempest and I met only a few hours ago in town. I brought some news she thought all of you should hear. But the bodyguard doesn’t have anything to worry about. I wasn’t hitting on her.”

  Dayan’s eyes were suddenly hard and cold. “I hope we did not give you a false impression of Darius. He would never

  worry.

  That is not his way.” The voice, even more than the words, supplied the threat.

  Tempest groaned out loud, wishing she knew Dayan well enough to hit him over the head. She reached out to reassure Cullen, who was looking as if he’d stumbled into a nest of vipers. Dayan moved subtly, deliberately inserting his solid frame between Tempest and the human. Syndil took Cullen’s arm and walked him toward some lounge chairs set up beneath a shade tree.

  Darkness was falling fast. Bats began their nightly ritual, assaulting the insects, performing their acrobatics in the sky. A cool breeze had come up, gently rustling the leaves in the trees. Desari and Julian, complete with hiking boots and backpacks, walked hand in hand into the circle. Both looked surprised to see a visitor, but Tempest knew by their appearance that the surprise was feigned.

  Julian moved his body protectively in front of Desari even as he offered his hand to Cullen as they were introduced. Cullen looked uneasy as he murmured a greeting. This was the man the society absolutely believed was a vampire. Cullen studied him closely, receiving an immediate impression of sheer power. Julian Savage was enormously strong, although careful not to crush Cullen’s bones when they shook hands. It was impossible to tell his age; his face looked timeless. Physically he was almost beautiful, in a purely masculine way, like the Greek statues of their gods.

  “You are a fan of my wife’s singing?” Julian ventured.

  “He came here with Rusti,” Dayan offered with a grin.

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “With Rusti? Then you have not met Darius as of yet, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Don’t start,” Tempest said. “I mean it, Julian. We’ve gone through this already. Darius is hardly the ogre you’re all making him out to be. He could care less if I had a dozen men here to visit.”

  Do not ever risk that one, my love,

  Darius said softly in her mind, the snap of his white teeth audible.

  “Do you want a mass murder taking place?” Dayan teased. Tempest tilted her chin in a challenge. “Darius isn’t like that at all.”

  Darius came striding out of the woods, tall, elegant, power personified. Cullen actually came to his feet. The bodyguard was the most impressive man he had ever seen. His body rippled with leashed strength. Power oozed from his every pore. His midnight-black hair was pulled back and held with a tie at the nape of his neck. The harsh planes and angles of his face seemed carved of granite. His mouth held latent sensuality and a hint of cruelty. His black eyes took in everything, the smallest detail, yet never left Tempest’s face.

  Darius moved silently, like a stalking panther, straight to Tempest’s side, his arm curving around her possessively, drawing her beneath his shoulder. He bent his head to find her soft, trembling mouth with his hard one. “You look tired, baby. Perhaps you should lie down and rest before we move out tonight. You have been working all day.”

  The moment his perfect mouth touched hers, Tempest forgot his teasing and gave herself up to the sizzling chemistry between them. Her arm slipped halfway around his waist, her fingers bunching in his shirt. “I’m fine, Darius. The truck is running, so we can
leave as soon as we need to go. I brought this man here to speak with you.”

  The black eyes at once rested on Cullen Tucker’s face. Involuntarily Cullen shivered beneath the icy gaze. It was like looking into a graveyard, the eyes of death itself. Cullen felt as if the bodyguard could read his every thought and was judging him worthy or unworthy—and that his very life might be hanging in the balance. He watched as the bodyguard carefully, deliberately raised Tempest’s right hand to his mouth, his tongue moving slowly, almost erotically over her scraped knuckles, those black, burning eyes never leaving Cullen’s face. Cullen could feel Syndil at his right side, close yet not touching him. He was aware that she was holding her breath.

  “I’m Cullen Tucker,” he introduced himself, grateful that he still had his voice. Tempest had been telling the truth about this man. He would go after anyone who attempted to take her from him, and he would never stop. The bodyguard, as he’d guessed earlier, was the type of man who was utterly relentless, who had no mercy in him.

  “Darius,” the bodyguard replied briefly. His hands went to Tempest’s shoulders, and he pushed her toward his brother-in-law. “Julian, perhaps you would take the three women to shelter while I speak with this gentleman. Desari, please see to the needs of the cats, and make certain Tempest eats before she goes to bed.”

  Syndil moved closer to Cullen, for the first time in her life defying Darius.

  I will stay here and listen

  . Her chin was up belligerently.

  Without warning Barack was there, his handsome face a twisted mask of fury. He literally shoved past the other men and caught Syndil’s arm, yanking her away from the human. His eyes were burning with rage. “What are you thinking, Darius, that you allow this man to come into our camp while our women are unprotected?” he demanded, forcing Syndil backward despite her struggles. His body was a solid wall of muscle, pressing her softer one away from the group.

  “How dare you treat me this way!” Syndil hissed, outraged.

  Barack turned his head, his black eyes blazing at her. “You will do as I say in this matter. You know better than to put yourself in a vulnerable position.”

  “Barack, have you lost your mind?” Syndil demanded.

  He growled, a low warning that rumbled in the air, his white teeth snapping like a predator’s. I

  refuse to

  argue with

  you. If you do not wish to suffer embarrassment, Syndil, you will do as I say right now. Do you think that I did not know you actively

  s

  ought this man’s company?

  Syndil moved backward into the shelter of the trees, partly because Barack was giving her no choice and partly because she was so astonished. Barack was the most easygoing of all the males. He tended to be amused by everything, and he flirted outrageously with human women, enjoying his image of the playboy of the band.

  You have no right to tell me what to do, Barack

  .

  If I wish to seek out a thousand men, it is my

  right.

  Like hell it is.

  Barack literally lifted her by the waist and carried her deeper into the woods. “Who is this man, that you suddenly wish to be with him? You have never displayed interest in human men before.”

  Syndil’s chin went up. “Well, perhaps that has changed.”

  “What has changed? What did this man do, bewitch you? I warn you, Syndil, I am in no mood for this foolishness. You touched him. You put your hand on his arm, flirted with him.” His eyes were blazing at her.

  “And this is considered a crime? Should I remind you of all the times I have known you were with human women? Do not dare to judge my behavior. This man makes me feel beautiful, desirable, like a woman, not some shadow to be ignored. He looks at me, and I feel alive again,” Syndil defended herself.

  “That is the reason? He makes you feel alive? Any man can do that, Syndil,” Barack snapped. “Well, he is the one I want,” she said defiantly.

  His hand closed around her neck, his dark eyes furious. “I have waited patiently for you to recover, been as gentle as I know how to be. But this I will not give you. If you dare to go near that man, I will tear him apart with my bare hands. Now get in the trailer, where I know you will be safe, and stay away from him.”

  Syndil blinked up at him, shocked and wide-eyed at his uncharacteristic outburst. “I am going, but not because you order me. I do not want a scene in front of an outsider.”

  Barack pushed her toward the bus. “I do not care what foolish reason you come up with to do as I

  order

  you. Just do it. Go now. I mean it.”

  “Where did you get the idea that you were my lord and master?” she indignantly threw back at him over her shoulder as she went toward the motor home.

  “You just remember that I am, Syndil,” he snapped and watched to assure himself that she did as he commanded before he returned to join the men, who were questioning Cullen.

  Rusti and Desari met Syndil at the door to the bus. Desari wrapped an arm around Syndil’s shoulder.

  “Was Barack very angry?”

  “I do not know about him,” Syndil said, “but I am. What is he thinking, treating me that way? As if I am his daughter, his baby sister. Do you have any idea how many women he has been with? It’s disgusting, that’s what it is. It makes me sick, the way the men have such a double standard—one for their own behavior and another for ours. The only reason I even listened to him was because this is a matter of your security, Desari. Otherwise I would have told him to go straight to hell. I may yet. In fact, I may just leave altogether after this next concert of yours. I need a vacation from that idiot.”

  “Maybe I should go with you,” Tempest ventured. “Darius is even worse than Barack. What is it with these men?”

  Desari laughed softly. “They are overbearing and domineering and often royal pains. Julian is forever trying to lay down the law with me. The thing is, you have to stand up to them.”

  Syndil pushed a hand through her hair in agitation. “You and Rusti, maybe, but I do not belong to anyone. I should be able to do as I wish.”

  Tempest sank into a deep, cushioned chair. Both leopards immediately wrapped themselves around her legs. “I don’t belong to Darius. Where does everyone get the idea I’m his girlfriend? And even if I were, I wouldn’t have to do a dam thing he says.”

  “Rusti,” Desari said gently, “you cannot defy Darius. No one can, not even one of us, and we are very powerful. Finding a lifemate is not like a human marriage.

  More powerful instincts are at work. Each of us has only one true lifemate, you as well as Darius. You must be the other half of his soul. The light to his darkness. You cannot change what is simply because you fear it.”

  Syndil nodded in agreement. Taking up a brush, she removed the clip from Tempest’s hair so she could tame the thick red-gold mass. “Darius is always so gentle with you, but there is great darkness in him. You must understand what he is. You cannot think of him as human; he is not human. He is quite capable of forcing your compliance in matters of your health or your safety. The men always protect the women.”

  “Why? Why are they so dominating? It sets my teeth on edge.”

  Desari sighed softly. “Darius has saved our lives over and over again. The first time he was only six years old. He has done miraculous things, but to do them, he had to believe implicitly in his own judgment, and with that comes a certain arrogance.”

  Tempest gave an inelegant snort, but a part of her was awed at what Desari was telling her. She had seen glimpses of Darius’s life in his memories, had heard some of his stories, and they astonished her, his implacable resolve to keep his family alive.

  “Julian told me that the Carpathian race is dying out,” Desari continued. “There are few women—fewer than twenty, counting Syndil and myself. We are the future of our race. Without us, the men have no chance of survival. It used to be that a woman waited a century before she settled with her mate a
nd even longer to bear children. But now the males have no choice but to claim their lifemates when they are mere fledglings. You must see why it is of vital importance to all of them that we are protected,” Desari said.

  Tempest felt her heart skip a beat. It was easier not to think too much about what she had gotten herself into. When Desari said the words aloud, she knew terror was waiting a heartbeat away to claim her. She bit down hard on her lower lip. Both women heard her suddenly pounding heart. She was human, not Carpathian, and she didn’t feel safe in their world.

  Desari sank to her knees in front of Tempest. “Please do not fear us,” she said softly, persuasively. “You are our sister, one of us. No one in our family would harm you. Indeed, Darius would give his life for you. He is giving his life for you.” Her dark eyes filled with tears.

  Tempest’s green eyes widened at Desari’s obvious distress, her choice of words. “What do you mean, he’s giving his life for me?”

  “We Carpathians have great longevity, Rusti; that is both our blessing and our curse. Because you are his lifemate, yet mortal, Darius will choose the human way of things. He will grow old and die with you rather than remain an immortal,” Desari explained gently.

  “Already he shows signs of stress,” Syndil added. “He is refusing to go to ground to sleep properly.”

  “What does that mean?” Tempest asked, curious. Darius often used that phrase, but she still wasn’t certain exactly what it meant.

  “The soil is healing to our people,” Desari said. “Our bodies require sleep in a different way than yours. We must shut down our heart and lungs to rejuvenate ourselves. Without doing that, we cannot sustain our full strength. Darius is our protector. He is the one who must face the human assassins and hunt the undead who threaten us. Unless he goes to ground as he must, he will lose his great power.”

  Tempest felt her breath catch in her lungs. The thought of Darius in trouble was frightening. “Why doesn’t he just go to sleep the way he’s supposed to? He spends the entire time driving me crazy, always talking to me, giving me orders, and mixing in a threat or two just to keep things interesting.”