By Christine Feehan
Torpedo Ink series:
Judgment Road
Vengeance Road
Desolation Road
Shadow series:
Shadow Rider
Shadow Reaper
Shadow Keeper
Shadow Warrior
Shadow Flight
‘Dark’ Carpathian series:
Dark Prince
Dark Desire
Dark Gold
Dark Magic
Dark Challenge
Dark Fire
Dark Legend
Dark Guardian
Dark Symphony
Dark Melody
Dark Destiny
Dark Secret
Dark Demon
Dark Celebration
Dark Possession
Dark Curse
Dark Slayer
Dark Peril
Dark Predator
Dark Storm
Dark Lycan
Dark Wolf
Dark Blood
Dark Ghost
Dark Promises
Dark Carousel
Dark Legacy
Dark Sentinel
Dark Illusion
Dark Song
Dark Nights
Darkest at Dawn (omnibus)
Sea Haven series:
Water Bound
Spirit Bound
Air Bound Earth Bound
Fire Bound
Bound Together
GhostWalker series:
Shadow Game
Mind Game
Night Game
Conspiracy Game
Deadly Game
Predatory Game
Murder Game
Street Game
Ruthless Game
Samurai Game
Viper Game
Spider Game
Power Game
Covert Game
Toxic Game
Lethal Game
Drake Sisters series:
Oceans of Fire
Dangerous Tides
Safe Harbour
Turbulent Sea
Hidden Currents
Magic Before Christmas
Leopard People series:
Fever
Burning Wild
Wild Fire
Savage Nature
Leopard’s Prey
Cat’s Lair
Wild Cat
Leopard’s Fury
Leopard’s Blood
Leopard’s Run
Leopard’s Wrath
Leopard’s Rage
The Scarletti Curse
Lair of the Lion
PIATKUS
First published in the US in 2020 by Berkley,
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Piatkus
Copyright © 2020 by Christine Feehan
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-0-349-42674-7
Piatkus
An imprint of
Little, Brown Book Group
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
An Hachette UK Company
www.hachette.co.uk
www.littlebrown.co.uk
Contents
Acknowledgments
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
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 tal
l;
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 punishments 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.
That’s good, Elisabeta. Now tell me, while you feel safe, what is your greatest fear of rising?
She did feel safe. She burrowed deeper, imagining being held in those strong arms, feeling them tighten around her, feeling the warm breath in her ear, so steady. Breathing in and out. His heart rate never faltered. Never rose or slowed but remained that same steady rhythm, as if he could always be counted on. Did she dare voice her concern aloud? Already she was terrified that she had been awake long enough to alert Sergey.
He will never give me up. He will use me to kill everyone who helped to take me from him. He’s so cruel. If I don’t go back to him, he will burn this place to the ground with everyone in it right in front of me.
As soon as she gave voice to her concerns, even if it was only in her mind, panic again began to burst through her. What if Sergey heard? What if he was able to monitor her in spite of the safeguards the Carpathians had so carefully woven around her? She didn’t dare utter his evil name just in case the vampire was able to latch on to that.
A hand pressed into her hair, a soothing stroke down the back of her head. Like a caress. It was so strange, so unusual, such a rare, shocking feeling she’d never experienced, it stopped the welling panic before it could take her over.
Thank you for telling me your greatest fear. I know it frightened you just to tell me. What else has upset you? Be truthful with me, Elisabeta. You will not be punished for telling the truth to me no matter what you say.
Could she believe that? She had to answer him truthfully, no matter if she was punished or not. One didn’t lie to one’s lifemate. He would know. She took a deep breath. You did not claim me as your lifemate. You know I am not worthy. I accept that, and I understand. I am not the same woman I was born to be. I have been corrupted by the vampire who took me and held me captive for so many years. I do understand but . . . She broke off.
It was the truth. She didn’t even know if she wanted to be claimed because she had no idea what she would do as a lifemate. Carpathians only had one. When a man was born, his soul was split in half. He carried all the darkness in him. The light was placed in a woman who was born either at the same time or later. Around the age of two hundred, Carpathian males began to lose their ability to see in color and emotions began to fade. As time went on, if they didn’t find their lifemate, their world became gray and emotions retreated completely.
Dark Song Page 1