Dark Gold (Dark Series - book 3)

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Dark Gold (Dark Series - book 3) Page 6

by Christine Feehan


  She studied his appearance. He was physically beautiful. His hair was rich and thick, waves of gold reaching past his wide shoulders. His eyes, a peculiar molten gold, intense and frightening, gazed back at her with the unblinking stare of a jungle cat. His lips were impossibly sensual. It was impossible to judge his age. She would have guessed he was somewhere in his thirties. “Why don’t you erase

  my

  memories?”

  A small, humorless smile curved his mouth, revealing strong, even, white teeth. “You are not so easy to handle,

  piccola

  . You are resistant to my direction. But we need to address what is happening to you.”

  Her heart began to pound. “What is happening to me?”

  “We need to further dilute the tainted blood in your system.”

  Alexandria wanted to trust him. The smell of the herbs, the sound of his voice, his seeming honesty all made her want to believe he was trying to help her. And he didn’t force her decision, or even attempt to rush her, though she sensed he was concerned that whatever was going to happen would happen before he was adequately prepared to deal with it. She took a deep breath. “How do we do that?”

  “I must give you a large amount of my blood.”

  He said it quietly, matter-of-factly. Alexandria looked away. Those golden eyes of his never blinked. She was afraid if she stared into them too long, she would fall forever into their depths. “You will give me a transfusion?”

  “I am sorry,

  piccola

  , that will not work.” There was real regret in his voice. He touched her again, turning her chin so she would face him again. The feather-light stroke sent her heart pounding.

  “I can’t... I can’t drink blood.”

  “I can put you under compulsion if you are willing for me to do so. It will aid you. It is our only chance, Alexandria.”

  The way he said her name sent butterflies winging through her stomach. But was it possible that drinking more blood was the only way to make her well?

  “If it is impossible for you to drink of your own free will, you must consent to my aiding you,” he said.

  “I’m not sure I can do it.” The very thought repulsed her. Her stomach was churning, already rebelling at the idea. “There must be another way to make me well. I don’t think I can do it,” she repeated.

  “His blood is tainted, Alexandria. Even though he is dead, he can cause you much pain and suffering. We have to dilute it before you go through the transformation.”

  There was that word again—

  transformation.

  She shivered.

  He reached behind him for an immaculately white silk shirt, clearly one of his own, and, his eyes holding hers, he gently put it on her, handling her as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. They both pretended the act was impersonal, but there was something in his touch, some quality in his gaze that could only be described as possessive.

  Exhausted, Alexandria tried to think. The vampire had been grotesque, and the thought of any part of him living in her bloodstream was terrifying. “All right. Do it.” Her blue eyes met his golden gaze. “Put me under compulsion to get rid of the vampire in me. But nothing else. Don’t take away or put anything else into my head. Nothing else. You have to give me your word on that.” For whatever that would be worth.

  He nodded. She was far too weak to sit up, so Aidan cradled her on his lap. She began to tremble, her heart pounding so hard, he was afraid it would shatter before he could heal her. Deliberately he reached behind her to braid her long hair, to soothe and distract her. Then he silently began a low chant in her mind, murmuring in the ancient tongue, bringing a measure of relief to her. She visibly relaxed.

  “I want to command you to sleep through your conversion. It is quite brutal,

  piccola

  . I will wake you when it is over.” His velvet voice made the suggestion, and she felt the notes wrapping around her like safe, warm arms, compelling her to do as he wished.

  Instantly she pulled back, her mind slamming shut, turning away from him. She simply was not willing to be that vulnerable, to give up all control, even consciousness, to a stranger. Especially one capable of the things this man could do. What was he, after all? Possibly another vampire, despite the distinction he drew about being “Carpathian, not yet vampire,” whatever that meant.

  “I will assist you in diluting the vampire’s tainted blood, Alexandria, nothing more, if that is your wish.” He chose his words carefully. He had been in her mind several times already, and the bond was strengthening with each mental sharing. She was unaware of it as of yet, and for now it was better to keep it that way. He knew she was confused and mistakenly hoping that the conversion about to take place would restore her to human life. For now he would have to mildly deceive her in that regard to spare her the agony of the inevitable transformation, already begun, to Carpathian life.

  Alexandria sighed. The feel of his hands in her hair, the soft whisper of his husky voice, the total confidence he exuded was mesmerizing. “Let’s get it over with before I lose my nerve.”

  As soon as the words slipped out of her mouth, he shifted her slight weight, cradling her on his lap, and bent his blond head slowly to her throat. The touch of his mouth was like hot silk on her skin. She felt that wildly erotic touch right down to her toes.

  Alexandria stiffened, suddenly afraid of losing far more than her life. His lips were on her throat, right over her pulse.

  You have to trust me, piccola. Let yourself feel me in you. I am part of you. Reach for me now, as I reach for you

  . The words seemed to be in her mind rather than spoken aloud. He was strength and heat, fire and ice. He was power and protection from the insanity engulfing her.

  A white-hot heat pierced her throat, and then she felt an erotic intimacy so beautiful, it brought tears to her eyes. She had never felt so cherished, so beautiful, so perfect as she did at that moment. She felt him in her mind, exploring her secret thoughts and desires. He was soothing and healing her, tasting her, sharing her mind. He examined every memory, the strength of her block against him.

  When he was certain he had taken enough of her blood to ensure a proper exchange, his tongue reluctantly stroked over the wound and closed it.

  With a fingernail he opened a line over his heart.

  Drink, Alexandria. Take what is freely offered

  . His mind was ready, reaching to take control of hers, to compel what she did not wish to do. His body clenched as her mouth moved over his skin, found what it was seeking, and his life’s blood flowed into her. His heart slammed hard against his chest. He knew she was the one. She was his. His entire being responded to her. The chemistry between them was electric, exact. He had waited so long, seemingly forever, for her. And now he was taking no chances on losing her. He began the chant that would bind them together for all time.

  I claim you as my lifemate. I belong to you. I offer my life for you. I give you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours. Your life, happiness, and welfare will be placed above my own. You are my lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care.

  He spoke the ritual words in her mind, both in her language and in his native tongue. The ritual would not be complete until her body was bound to his, but, this done, no one would be able to take her from him, nor could she escape him.

  Aidan gave her as much blood as he could. He wanted the vampire’s blood thoroughly diluted when the conversion began, during which she would expel whatever might remain. They had little time before the transformation would begin, and he was weak and pale. He desperately needed to hunt before she needed him again, which would be very soon.

  Alexandria lay back, her long lashes thick crescents resting on her cheeks. Even in her hypnotic state, he could see the pain twisting her body. It was difficult to keep his promise and not command her to sleep the deep, healing sleep of immortals. But if Ale
xandria was ever to trust him, he had to keep every promise he made. She had exceptional cause to despise his kind. Her trauma and terror would never be fully erased, even as she came to understand their race.

  His call to Marie brought the older woman to the chamber immediately. “You will stay with Alexandria while I hunt this night.”

  Marie watched him, appalled as he staggered with weakness. She had seen him weary and wounded from battle, but she had never seen him so starved before. He was nearly gray. “You must take my blood before you go out, Aidan,” she said. “You are too weak to hunt. If a vampire caught you is such a state, he would destroy you.”

  He shook his head, touching her arm gently. “You know I would never do such a thing. I do not use those I care for, those I protect.”

  “Go then, and hurry.” Marie watched with anxious eyes as he bent to brush his mouth across the girl’s forehead. He was suddenly so tender, this man she had come to know so well. He had always been aloof, remote, even to those he called family. This rare gesture of tenderness made her want to cry.

  Aidan whispered the command to awaken Alexandria from her trance. “I must go now,” he told her. “Marie will stay with you until my return. Call to me if you have need of me.”

  For some strange reason, Alexandria didn’t want him to leave her side. She curled her fingers in the sheet to keep from calling out to him. But he moved quickly with his peculiar grace, like a great jungle cat, and soon was gone.

  Marie held a glass of water to her lips. “I know you’re sore, Alexandria—may I call you that?—but some water might help. I feel I know you, what with young Joshua telling me such tales of his wonderful sister. He loves you very much.”

  The rim of the glass hurt her mouth, and Alexandria pushed it away. “Just Alex, that’s what Josh likes to call me. Is he okay?”

  “Stefan—that’s my husband—looked him over very carefully. He was hungry and tired, a bit hypothermic and dehydrated, but we attended to that. He’s eaten and is in good spirits. He fell asleep by the downstairs fire. Under the circumstances, with him so worried about you, we felt he should sleep close to us and not alone in his room.”

  “Thank you for looking after him.” She tried to sit up. With the infusion of the hunter’s blood, she felt stronger. “Where is he now? I’d like to go see him.”

  Marie shook her head. “You must not even attempt to leave this bed. Aidan would have our heads. You’re very weak, Alex. I guess you haven’t seen yourself yet either. In your condition, you’d scare Joshua to death.”

  Alexandria sighed. “But I need to see him, to touch him, just so I know he’s all right. Everyone tells me he is, but how do I know for sure?”

  Marie stroked back stray strands of gold hair from Alexandria’s forehead. “Because Aidan does not lie. He would never harm a child. He is one who, at great risk to himself, hunts the vampires preying on the human race.”

  “Are there really such things? Maybe I’m just having a terrible nightmare I can’t wake up from. Maybe I’m just sick with a high fever.” She said it hopefully. “How could there really be such things as vampires in our society without everyone knowing it?”

  “Because of those like Aidan who stop them.”

  “What is Aidan? Isn’t he a vampire, too? I saw him turn from a bird to a man to a wolf. He grew fangs and claws. He drank my blood. I know he intended to kill me. I still don’t know why he changed his mind.” Suddenly she felt her body beginning to burn. Her muscles began to tighten into hard knots. Even the thin sheet covering her felt too heavy and warm against her skin. Her muscles seemed to be contorting, the heat migrating throughout her body.

  “Aidan will explain everything to you. But rest assured that he is no vampire. I have known him since I was a young girl. He watched me grow up, have children of my own, and now I have become an old woman. He is a powerful, dangerous man, but not to those of us he calls his own. He will never harm you. He will protect you with his life.”

  Alexandria was panicking. She did not want to belong to Aidan Savage. Yet she realized he would never let her go. How could he? She knew far too much. “I don’t want to be here. Call 911. Get me a doctor.”

  Marie sighed. “No doctor can help you now, Alex. Only Aidan can. He is a great healer. They say there is only one other greater than he.” She smiled. “Aidan will return, and he’ll take away your pain.”

  Her insides twisted so hard and abruptly, Alexandria was nearly thrown from the bed. She cried out, screamed. “You have to call me a doctor, Marie. Please! You’re human, like me, aren’t you? You have to help me. I want to go home! I just want to go home!”

  Marie tried to hold her down on the bed, but the pain was so intense, Alexandria’s body convulsed, and she hit the floor hard.

  Chapter Four

  Aidan inhaled the night as he walked along the San Francisco sidewalk. Creatures winged their way across the sky. The breeze carried the scent of prey. Half a block away, an alley, narrow and dark, opened onto the street. He could feel the presence of three men. He smelled their sweat, heard their crude laughter. They were would-be assailants waiting for a lost soul to brighten up their otherwise dull lives.

  His hunger rose sharply with every step he took, the demon rising so that his mind became merely a red haze demanding to feed. He smelled the night. It had taken him some time to get used to the sounds and sights and smells of this foreign city. The sea salt carried on the wind, the thick fog, the patterns of the night life were all so different from the ways of his homeland. But someone had to hunt the vampires. Once the undead had learned they could leave their lands and travel far from the Dark One’s justice, they had begun to branch out. Aidan had volunteered to leave his beloved Carpathian Mountains and go to a new land to protect the humans residing there. And San Francisco had become his home base. Over time he had come to enjoy the city and its diverse people, to even think of it as home.

  The art centers were wonderful. Theater and opera were plentiful. And there was a ready supply of prey. He moved silently, muscles rippling as he neared the alley. The three thugs were shuffling back and forth, whispering, unaware of his stalking. Their mutterings were loud in his ears, despite the fact that he had deliberately lowered his hearing, wanting to escape the assault on his senses. Sensations, intense emotions, even the vivid colors he hadn’t experienced in so many centuries were overwhelming to him. The night seemed so brilliant, it took his breath away. He found it beautiful, the clouds, the stars, the moon, all of it.

  Aidan shrugged his powerful shoulders to relax the tension in his body. He was more obviously muscular than most of his kind. The majority of his people were slimmer, more elegantly built. Also unlike the others, he and his twin were blond with golden eyes. His race customarily had dark hair and eyes.

  As he approached the alley, he sent forth a call. He didn’t need to do so. The moment the men spotted him, they would have attempted to attack him. But this way would be calmer. Although the predator in him would welcome a battle, brief as it would be, he didn’t have the time to indulge his nature just now. In any case, having come so close to the edge of madness and transformation to vampire by waiting so many centuries for his mate, and so soon after the killing battle with Paul Yohenstria, he would not allow himself to explode into violence. He had a purpose now, a reason for existing, and he would not allow his predatory nature to overcome his intelligence and will.

  One of the trio had just lit a cigarette, its pungent aroma wafting along the street, but abruptly he turned and began to shuffle out of the alley. The other two followed him, one cleaning his greasy fingernails with the point of a pocketknife. Their eyes were slightly glazed, as if they were drugged. Aidan frowned, unhappy that the prey was using narcotics, but blood was blood, and the drugs wouldn’t affect him.

  “It is cold out on the street,” Aidan said softly, slipping an arm around the smoker’s shoulders. He led the men back into the darkened alley, away from prying eyes, and bent his head to drink. T
he other two waited like cattle, pushing close to him for their turn. Their unwashed bodies and rather useless minds sickened him, but he had to feed. Sometimes he wondered why humans like these were allowed to exist. They seemed little different from those of his race who had chosen to forfeit their souls and turn vampire, preying on those less powerful than themselves. Why didn’t someone stop these humans? Why had God created them? Why had he given the gift of breath to them, knowing they would fail to live a life of honor and integrity? Carpathian males endured for hundreds—some of them thousands—of years before they sought the dawn and self-destruction or made the decision to turn renegade and lose their souls for all time. Yet some human males could not endure even beyond their teen years.

  Aidan dropped the first victim carelessly on the ground, his hand curling around the nape of the next donor. The man came to him easily, under hypnotic trance, eager to please. Aidan fed voraciously, heedless that the three men would be weak and helpless for some time. He needed the nourishment, and he was disgusted with their existence. Men like these searched to exploit those weaker than themselves. They were cruel to their women and avoided their obligations to their most precious treasure in life, their children. Who cared how they got this way? Aidan was a firm believer in choosing one’s own destiny, not taking the easy way out. Carpathian males had all the instincts of a predator, sometimes more dangerous than wild animals, yet they would never abuse a woman or a child. They held to a strict code of honor even in their oftentimes kill-or-be-killed world. All of them knew the consequences of their actions, and they accepted the responsibility of their gifts. In Aidan’s race men such as these three would soon be exterminated. As powerful as Carpathians were, they could not be allowed to abuse those weaker than themselves.

  The second victim swayed and fell nearly on top of the first. Aidan dragged the knife-wielding man close. The man looked up at him. “Are we going to party?” the reprobate asked with a crude laugh.

 

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