Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5)

by Christine Feehan

  Julian dissolved immediately, flowing beneath the door into the room as tiny molecules in the air. The three leopards were pacing restlessly, low warning growls rumbling deep in their throats. He tried to touch their minds but found chaos and anger, the mood dangerous to any that might enter the room. Syndil had deliberately buried herself deep within the body of the leopard she had assumed to prevent the one who sought her from telling her apart from the other two real specimens. She paced along with them, every bit as moody and dangerous, raging in her mind at the evil threatening them. Even he could not tell which female was actually Syndil and which was the genuine leopard; he did not yet know her well enough to discern her spirit from where she had it buried so deeply within the spirit of the leopard.

  Julian felt Darius’s power filling the room, knew the moment he reached to calm the prowling leopards. The vampire was close, too close, stalking Syndil, but the undead was projecting his whereabouts from all directions so neither Darius or Julian could get a firm fix on his location. They waited with the patience of ancient hunters, still, calm, simply waiting for the moment when the aggressor must make his move.

  The impact slamming against the door was tremendous, a huge bulging spreading inward. The door itself blackened even as thunder shook the building. A part of Julian remained connected to Desari, determined to always ensure her safety. She was easily holding the audience, projecting calm, her voice soothing as she sang a haunting ballad, Dayan accompanying her on the guitar. Dayan and the security people were close around her, the human guards uncertain how Barack had disappeared from the stage. No one had quite caught his exit. Yet they stayed close to Desari, directed by Julian without their knowledge. Desari and Dayan were incredibly smooth, Desari now perched on a high stool in the middle of the stage, her long dress flowing around her in graceful folds. Dayan played the soft, mesmerizing music on his guitar while the beauty of Desari’s voice continued to fill the concert hall.

  The leopards were pacing restlessly now, the male twice throwing himself at the door in agitation. Julian streamed back to the other side of the door, pouring out into the hallway with a rush of cold air. He knew Darius would stay behind to protect Syndil.

  On the other side of the door Barack was in a fierce battle with a tall, gaunt stranger. The evil one had red-rimmed eyes and a vicious slash for a mouth. He raked at Barack with sharp claws, aiming for the jugular, but Barack eluded the quick strike and was ramming straight into the chest of the emaciated vampire. His fangs tore at the throat even as his hand bore straight to the heart. Easygoing Barack seemed lost in the ferocious beast that had taken his place.

  Julian sought the man’s mind and found a red haze of hatred and rage, directed not only at this vampire but at the one who had so violently attacked Syndil and left her so withdrawn. It took a few moments to find the mental path that Desari’s family shared with one another.

  Do not drink his blood, Barack. He is dead already. You have destroyed him. The blood is tainted.

  Julian spoke softly into the mind of one gone mad with rage.

  Do not interfere. He lives.

  When Julian glided toward the struggling pair, Barack roared a warning, a growl that shook the hall. Julian stopped at once, not in the least surprised when Darius materialized at his side.

  “Do not, Barack.” Darius’s voice was a soft menace. “You cannot drink as he dies. Not in the rage you are in. Release him and allow him to fall away from you.”

  Barack lifted his head, his fangs stained red, his eyes glowing hotly. The heart was flung aside, still pulsing wickedly. The rumbling grew louder, a clear warning to back away from him.

  Darius and Julian glanced at one another with the same thought. If they joined together, they could force Barack to obedience, but he would never trust nor respect either of them again. Barack was definitely dangerous, and neither wanted to alienate him. He was a Carpathian male, and it was his right to do as he was doing, protect the females in his family unit. Protect any female of their race. Not only his right but his duty.

  Julian reached for the leopards’ minds and found Syndil nestled in the smaller female cat’s body.

  Barack is in danger. We cannot reach him. You must do it. Call to him. Do it now before it is too late and he is lost to us for all eternity. He cannot consume the blood of the thing he is killing.

  Julian felt Syndil’s immediate alarm. At once she shape-shifted, taking her human form, her slender, shapely figure shorter than Desari’s but radiating the same inner light and beauty of the Carpathian female. She moved with fluid, elegant grace, her dark, expressive eyes touching him, then jumping away hastily as she gave him a wide berth. Her gasp was audible as she surveyed the bloody, violent scene in the hallway and the darkness so close to the surface in Barack, his own face nearly that of the beast within the Carpathian male. Darius was close to the undead, close enough to distract Barack from feasting on its blood. Still, power and rage ate at the younger Carpathian, allowing the beast within to take over his mind, so that all that was left was instinct and fury.

  Without hesitation, Syndil approached Barack. “Do not step in the blood,” Darius cautioned her, his dark eyes watchful. If Barack made one wrong move toward Syndil, there was no doubt in Julian’s mind that Barack would be a dead man. Syndil was unafraid, ignoring both Darius and Julian as if they were invisible.

  “Barack,” she whispered softly, almost intimately. Her eyes were on the savage crimson streaks on his chest and face. “Come with me now. I have need to heal your wounds.” Despite his ferocious growls, she laid her hand gently on Barack’s arm, careful to stay away from the blood coating his clothing. “Come with me, brother. Allow me to heal you.”

  Barack’s head swung around, red eyes glowing fiercely. For a moment his eyes switched between red and black, as if the man fought the beast within for their shared body and mind. “I am not your brother, little one,” he hissed, struggling to overcome the killing rage.

  For a moment Syndil hung her head, as if his words denying their relationship had cut her deeply. Then she stepped closer to him, so that her soft body brushed against his larger frame. Barack’s hands immediately, instinctively, spanned her small waist and lifted her away from the thick pool of blood spreading across the floor. The moment he released the vampire, the body of the undead fell, thrashing around, head flopping and talons digging long, deep furrows into the wall.

  “Barack, do not touch Syndil’s skin with tainted blood on your hands,” Darius cautioned with his black-velvet authority.

  Julian was already gathering energy into his palms, taking it from the electricity in the air itself, rolling it into a ball to send it flaming into the vampire’s pulsating heart so that there was no chance of the undead rising again. The sparks then jumped from the incinerated organ to the blood, reducing the thick pool of curling black ashes.

  Barack reluctantly allowed Syndil’s feet to touch the floor far from the hideous scene. He was breathing hard, struggling to gain control of the beast within, ashamed that Syndil should see him so out of control. At Julian’s gesture he held out his hands so that the flames danced for a moment over his stained skin, burning the tainted blood from his hands and arms. Barack took possession of the white-hot ball of energy and ran it around Syndil’s waist where he had touched her, cleansing her of any tainted blood staining her clothes. He tossed the fire back to Julian before turning his entire attention to the woman who had shown so much courage.

  “Are you hurt?” Syndil asked him softly, ignoring the other two Carpathians as if they didn’t exist. Her fingertips brushed Barack’s arm, and she tried not to show how his denial of their relationship distressed her. If he chose, after all these years, to reject the ties between them, she was not going to let him see how bad it made her feel. She could only suspect it was because Savon had raped her, and Barack could not accept her anymore. Perhaps he thought she had brought the assault on herself in some way. Barack had not been the same since the attack on her. H
e had spent a great deal of time in the ground avoiding her and the others. Now he seemed sober and stern, so unlike his earlier, easygoing self. He watched her like a hawk, almost as if he didn’t trust her, or as if she were a fledgling not to be trusted to care for herself properly. She wanted to weep and run off and hide again, but something in her refused to leave Barack in such a state, with so many lacerations.

  Syndil lifted her chin but refused to meet his eyes. “Let me heal you, Barack. It will take but a few minutes.”

  Finally he took her elbow and led her away from the other two men. Julian and Darius watched them walk off. Julian glanced down at the body of the vampire and then up at Darius. “I guess we have clean-up duty.” He directed the flames toward the undead. As he always did when the vampire destroyed was not the ancient he sought, he experienced a deep letdown.

  But this time he wasn’t alone. From the concert hall Desari sent him warmth, love, her beautiful, haunting voice wrapping him up and holding him close to her heart.

  Darius had been ensuring they were alone in the hallway, keeping humans away while Barack destroyed the vampire. “Barack has never before fought the undead. He has never even shown interest in hunting. Yet he was here before either of us.”

  Julian nodded thoughtfully. “Is it really a surprise?”

  Darius shrugged his broad shoulders. “Barack has always stayed close to Syndil. He often protects her. As young children they were inseparable. Lately, though, she is so withdrawn that no one can get close to her, not even Desari.”

  “She spends far too much time in the form of the leopard. There is no way she will recover from her trauma if she does not face it,” Julian replied casually.

  Darius nodded. “She trusts no man. It seems a miracle she answered your call and aided us in persuading Barack to leave the vampire to his fate. She does not like to be close to any of us males.”

  “I do not think one can blame her,” Julian said distractedly. Already he felt the need to be with Desari. He could touch her mind at will, see what she was seeing through her eyes, look into her mind, but he was still uneasy without her in his actual sight. Desari standing so vulnerable in front of such a large crowd brought out the worst in him. His need to protect her was so incredibly strong, he found himself fighting his own deeply ingrained primitive instincts. He went quickly to the concert hall.

  She was so beautiful, she took his breath away. He watched the way she moved, gentle and flowing, her hips swaying, her long hair cascading like waves of silk down her back to brush around her slender body, drawing attention to curves and hollows. He wanted to carry her off to some secluded spot for all time, out of danger, away from prying eyes. He wanted to listen to her voice for eternity and watch her smile and light up the spaces around her.

  At once, even in the midst of her laughing softly into the microphone, seemingly totally bonded with the crowd, he felt the brush of her fingertips at the nape of his neck, and hot flames engulfed his gut and clenched his muscles so that he stood still, shocked at the power of her touch over him. He had spent an eternity feeling empty, a gaping hole in his very soul, so that what little compassion and gentleness he had once experienced had slowly seeped away, lost to him. She had brought back his emotions, his joy in life. He had always thought he might resent the need for a lifemate. He was a solitary hunter, enjoying the animals and nature more than the company of others. But it wasn’t so. Desari was a miracle to him.

  There was a soft hiss in his mind, not the standard path Desari’s family unit communicated on but a private, new meeting of the minds. Power. Authority. Male. It could only be Darius. Their sharing of blood had forged a bond, allowing Darius to communicate easily with him at will.

  Stop daydreaming. We have a job to do. My sister has you wrapped around her little finger. I notice

  you

  have not stopped her from pursuing this dangerous career she has chosen. It was you who allowed such nonsense in the first place.

  Julian was more than happy to point that out. He was moving around the packed hall, his senses flaring out to read any signs of danger.

  It is your decisions that should guide her now,

  Darius replied.

  Do not attempt to push your failures off on me. It will take much time to undo all the damage you have done with your permissive guidance. I will have to work slowly, without her knowledge, ease her out of this insane notion that she is allowed to make her own decisions.

  Julian could not help the humor creeping into his voice. The last thing anyone could do would be to put something over on Desari. She was no fledgling to be pushed around by an arrogant male.

  Barack returned to the stage, his long hair pulled back to the nape of his neck, his face unmarked and handsome, his clothes immaculate. Julian sensed Syndil’s presence in the hall, but she had made herself unseen to the human eye. It was Barack, looking sternly toward one corner of the stage, that tipped off her location to Julian. Barack had obviously dragged her there. Julian could tell he wasn’t about to perform unless Syndil was where he could see her every moment. She was sitting on the edge of the platform, slightly behind and to Barack’s right. She looked so sad, Julian felt an instant response, wanting to comfort her. Syndil appeared fragile and worn, a slight figure, almost childlike. Barack must have ordered her presence in such a way that she had chosen to obey him. Julian couldn’t blame him or any of the others for their protectiveness. This was an explosive situation, one not easily controlled. Protecting two women in such a large crowd from human assassins, overeager fans, and vampires was difficult. They needed the women close together where they all could watch over them.

  We are not children,

  Desari reminded him, taking her bow before the roaring crowd.

  And Barack was quite harsh with Syndil. He should be more gentle with her. She didn’t provoke the vampire’s attack on her.

  She smiled at the crowd, flashing the famous sexy grin that seemed to stop a few too many hearts for Julian’s peace of mind. Her arm gestured back gracefully toward the two male Carpathians onstage, including them in the standing ovation.

  Several females in the front row screamed and waved at the two guitar players, one throwing herself against the ring of security guards, calling for Barack and tossing a pair of red silk panties in his direction. The underwear landed almost in Syndil’s lap. She picked them up gingerly by the tips of her thumb and forefinger, studied them for a moment, then, with absolutely no expression on her face, tossed them onto the neck of Barack’s guitar. To the audience, red panties seemed to fly straight up into the air at him. They roared with delight, coming to their feet once again.

  Syndil rose with her casual grace and started off the stage. At once Barack moved, cutting off her retreat. To the audience it simply appeared as if he had stepped away from Dayan with his back to them, his hips swaying provocatively. Several girls screamed louder, trying to rush the stage. Barack played his guitar solo for several chords, the music swelling, cresting like a wave racing toward shore, then crashing onto the sand. The audience was electric with intensity, yet every Carpathian’s attention was on the scene taking place between the male and female.

  Syndil glared at Barack, her body rigid with anger. Her eyes blazed at him. “You have no right to tell me what to do or where to go. As you pointed out earlier, you are not my brother. Darius is the leader, and he has not said that I must stay and watch you entertain these adoring women.” She waved a disdainful hand at the screaming row of girls.

  “Do not push me this time, Syndil,” Barack warned softly, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. “I do not care what Darius has said or not said to you. You will not leave my sight until I know you are completely safe. In this matter you will obey me.”

  For a moment Syndil faced him in silent rebellion. It was impossible to guess what she was going to decide to do.

  “Please, Syndil,” Desari said softly, persuasively, “we have an audience. Do not give Barack any reason to go
berserk on us.”

  Syndil blinked once, her long lashes fanning her high cheekbones. Her large eyes moved over Barack with faint haughtiness. She swung her long hair over her shoulder and seated herself for the second set, her back to Barack. There was something regal about the way she held herself.

  Barack finished his guitar solo, his body once more relaxed, but his eyes remained hard and watchful. Desari flashed a quick, relieved smile Julian’s way. Dayan’s guitar joined Barack’s and Desari’s voice soared into the air, bringing the spectators to their feet. Syndil began tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music. It was entirely involuntary, the first time she had responded to their music since the savage attack on her. She had always been musical, easily playing any instrument set before her, usually the keyboard and drums. The group had explained her absence to their fans by saying she had taken an extended vacation and would return soon.

  Desari inwardly breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the first sign in a long while that Syndil might find a way to come back to them, to herself. Perhaps her love of music would bring her back. While her mind turned the matter over, her voice continued to keep the audience mesmerized. And it suddenly occurred to her that while she had had family close by all her life, Julian had been totally alone. To guard his brother in the best way he knew, to guard his people, he had been always alone.

  Not anymore,

  Julian drawled, his voice a purring caress.

  As you are my responsibility now, I suppose I have no other choice but to help your brother protect and guide this pack of fools. What I should be doing is hauling your beautiful little butt out of here. The Carpathian Mountains are our homeland. It is where we all belong, not here among so many mortals.

  In truth he was beginning to like the feeling of belonging to a family, of belonging to Desari.