Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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
Teaser chapter
Praise for Christine Feehan’s Dark Carpathian novels . . .
“THE QUEEN OF PARANORMAL ROMANCE.”
—USA Today
DARK CURSE
“A very intense book.”—The Best Reviews
DARK POSSESSION
“Danger, fantasy and wild, uninhibited romance.”
—Publishers Weekly
DARK CELEBRATION
“[A] sex-and-magic-filled treat.”
—Publishers Weekly
DARK DEMON
“A terrific, action-packed romantic thriller.” —The Best Reviews
DARK SECRET
“The erotic heat . . . turns scorching.” —Booklist
DARK DESTINY
“Deeply sensuous.” —Booklist
DARK MELODY
“A richly evocative fantasy world . . . [the] love scenes sizzle.” —Publishers Weekly
DARK SYMPHONY
“Feehan’s followers will be well sated.”—Publishers Weekly
“A HIGH PRIESTESS IN THE WORLD OF VAMPIRE FICTION.”
—Romantic Times
DARK GUARDIAN
“A skillful blend of supernatural thrills and romance.”
—Publishers Weekly
DARK LEGEND
“Vampire romance at its best!”—Romantic Times
DARK FIRE
“Fun and different . . . pick up a copy of this book.” —All About Romance
DARK CHALLENGE
“[An] exciting and multifaceted world.”—Romantic Times
DARK MAGIC
“Feehan builds a complex society that makes for mesmerizing reading.”—Romantic Times
DARK GOLD
“Wish I had written it!”—Amanda Ashley
DARK DESIRE
“Terrific.”—Romantic Times
DARK PRINCE
“For lovers of vampire novels, this one is a keeper . . . Don’t miss this book!”—New-Age Bookshelf
Praise for Christine Feehan’s Game novels
PREDATORY GAME
“Feehan’s at the top of her game with this explosive, scintillating novel.”—Romantic Times
DEADLY GAME
“I loved this one and I’ll bet you will too.”—Fresh Fiction
“The fastest-paced, most action-packed, gut-wrenching, adrenaline-driven ride I’ve ever experienced.”
—Romance Junkies
CONSPIRACY GAME
“Love and danger are a winning combination in [Conspiracy Game].”—Booklist
NIGHT GAME
“Suspenseful . . . captivating.”—Publishers Weekly
“The sensual scenes rival the steaming Bayou. A perfect 10.”—Romance Reviews Today
SHADOW GAME
“Erotically charged.”—Booklist
“Christine Feehan delivers action, adventure and passion.”
—Romantic Times
MIND GAME
“Sultry and suspenseful.”—Publishers Weekly
“Delightfully unique.”—Midwest Book Review
Titles by Christine Feehan
MURDER GAME
PREDATORY GAME
DEADLY GAME
CONSPIRACY GAME
NIGHT GAME
MIND GAME
SHADOW GAME
TURBULENT SEA
SAFE HARBOR
DANGEROUS TIDES
OCEANS OF FIRE
BURNING WILD
WILD RAIN
DARK CURSE
DARK HUNGER
DARK POSSESSION
DARK CELEBRATION
DARK DEMON
DARK SECRET
DARK DESTINY
DARK MELODY
DARK SYMPHONY
DARK GUARDIAN
DARK LEGEND
DARK FIRE
DARK CHALLENGE
DARK MAGIC
DARK GOLD
DARK DESIRE
DARK PRINCE
Anthologies
LOVER BEWARE
(with Fiona Brand, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Eileen Wilks)
FANTASY
(with Emma Holly, Sabrina Jeffries, and Elda Minger)
FEVER
(includes THE AWAKENING and WILD RAIN)
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.) Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.) Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
BURNING WILD
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Jove mass-market edition / May 2009
Copyright © 2009 by Christine Feehan.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
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375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-1-101-04434-6
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For Jack and Lisset,
who know what love is
For My Readers
Be sure to go to http://www.christinefeehan.com/members/ to sign up for my PRIVATE book announcement list and download the FREE ebook of Dark Desserts , a book of delicious dessert recipes compiled by my wonderful readers. Please feel free to e-mail me at [email protected]. I would love to hear fro
m you.
Acknowledgments
Thank you so much, Jack and Lisset, for the hours spent with me teaching me about proper bodyguard procedure. You taught me so much and really added to the realism of the scenes. I can only apologize and acknowledge the creative license taken in the party scene and hope the rest meets with your approval. All mistakes are solely mine.
Thanks to Brian Feehan, for his dedication to detail, and for the hours spent discussing scenes even in the middle of the night when I couldn’t put it down. And, of course, thanks to Domini, who gave up a few weekends to help me meet the all-important deadlines. But mostly, thanks to my husband, who always, always, sees me through every book. You know what you mean to me.
1
EARLIEST MEMORY
HIS environment was warm and cozy. He wasn’t alone. He could hear the other inside him, whispering soft little growls and encouragement. The need for freedom, the promise of a life that had been lived one cycle already and had been incredible. And then the squeezing came, hard shoves, the walls of his cocoon closing around him, twisting in waves to push him out, to expel him from the warmth of his home into cold air and bright lights. At once scents assailed him. He couldn’t sort out all the different smells, but the other could. Blood. People. Hospital. The other remembered the smells even when he didn’t.
He felt hands on him, shaking him, poking, a sharp prick. He pried open his eyes and looked around this new environment.
“My God, Ryan, he looks like a skinned rat. He’s so ugly. He’s skinny and useless to us.” The voice was resentful, filled with loathing.
He understood the words, or maybe the other did, but he knew the woman was talking about him. He looked like a rat. And rat wasn’t good, not if that voice meant anything.
“Shh, Cathy,” another voice cautioned. “Someone will hear.”
“We can’t take it home with us.”
“We can’t leave it here,” the deeper voice said.
“On the way home, I’m finding a Dumpster,” the higher-pitched voice hissed. “I’m not getting stuck with that ugly thing.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Cathy,” Ryan said. “We can’t take a chance that we’ll be caught. We’ll take him home and hire someone to look after him. You’ll never have to see him.”
“This is your fault. Daddy warned me not to marry you. He said your genes weren’t strong enough to produce one of the special ones. I didn’t want to get pregnant and have that thing growing in my body, but you insisted I had to carry it. Now you deal with it.”
“Fine. I’m naming him Jake, after your grandfather.” There was malice in Ryan’s voice. “Your father never did think I was good enough, and he won’t like having my whelp named after his father instead of him.”
“Name it any damn thing you want, just keep it away from me.”
The hatred and loathing in the cold voice gave the infant—newly named Jake Bannaconni—chills, but he refused to cry.
TWO YEARS
THE sharp pointed shoe caught Jake in the stomach and he doubled over. He should have been faster. He had the reflexes. The other warned him, but he had wanted to be held, had gone looking for her. She was his mother, after all. The mothers on the television and out in the play yard held their sons, but she kicked him hard, her voice screaming for Agnes.
“Get this horrid brat out of my sight. Ugly little rat.” Cathy yanked him up by one arm, held him dangling in the air and beat him with her stiletto heel, smashing the shoe into him over and over, his face, his belly, his groin, his thighs, anywhere she could land a blow on his squirming body. Rage and hatred fused together on her cold face.
Deep inside, he felt something wild unfurl, and his fingers curled under, as did his toes. The other hissed to him, cautioned him: Take it. Let her hit you. Hide what you are. She wants what you are. Hide. Hide. He breathed away the fire building in his belly and the itch running under his skin.
Mommies weren’t like this on television or in the movies. There was no cuddling. There were no hugs and kisses. Slaps and kicks were all he would get from his mother. He watched her on television sometimes, at the parties and fundraisers. She looked so different, smiling for the cameras, clinging to Ryan’s arm, stroking his face as if she loved him so much. But behind closed doors there was cruelty and hatred and deceit from both of them. Over time, they taught him to separate fantasy from reality.
FIVE YEARS
“WE absolutely can’t keep a governess, or whatever you call that woman, who beats the crap out of our kid. She put out cigarettes on him,” Ryan complained. “There are burn marks on his hands. Sooner or later one of the tutors will see and report it.”
Jake stayed quiet, very still. He’d perfected the art of sliding silently into a room without their knowledge and listening to the conversation. Most of what they said was still over his head—discussions about business and taking over companies—but he understood the basic truth that lay at the foundation of every meeting. Money was important. Power was important. They had it and he needed it. Agnes wasn’t putting cigarettes out on him. Cathy was. Her lovers did sometimes, just to please her. She could make them do anything she wanted no matter how cruel or humiliating. He knew them by sight, by scent, and someday he would ruin them. Money. Power. That was what they had and he needed.
“Nobody cares, Ryan,” Cathy said, annoyed with the conversation.
“Someone is going to see those burns and a reporter will get hold of it. We’ll be front-page news.” Ryan swung around, pointing a finger at her, his voice hardening. “I let you do what you want within reason, Cathy, but you aren’t going to ruin us with your senseless little games.”
Cathy stabbed her cigarette into the tray. “Really?” Both eyebrows shot up. A crafty expression crossed her face and Jake’s stomach tightened. “We might get some great publicity, Ryan, if we can work it right. Our little boy beaten and abused by a trusted member of our household. Tears in front of the camera, me leaning on you. We photograph so well together. A close-up of our child in the hospital looking frail. We could run with that for a long time. I could host a charity event for battered children. It would open more possibilities and get us some great press.”
“Agnes will be prosecuted and put in jail. She knows quite a bit about us.”
“Don’t be stupid. If we do this, Agnes has to disappear.”
“Cathy, you can’t be serious.”
Cathy rolled her eyes. “You’re such a sniveling coward, Ryan. Do you think I’m going to let her talk to the police? Or to the press? Hardly.”
Ryan turned his head slowly, something feral and predatory in his eyes. Cathy stiffened and lowered her eyes. “We have a very good arrangement, my dear, but perhaps you need another lesson in respecting your husband.”
Jake felt his heart hammering loudly. He had never considered his father to be dangerous, but that look, that small movement, just a flexing of muscles, showed that beneath the seeming apathy, Ryan was every bit as cruel as Cathy, or even more so. He’d given himself away.
Cathy pushed a hand through her hair. “No, no, of course not, honey. I’m sorry.”
She was genuinely afraid. Jake, hidden as he was, could scent her fear permeating the room.
The tension drained from Ryan and he forced a smile, but his eyes were flat and cold. “How are you going to keep the kid from talking?”
Cathy visibly relaxed, and, even in the shadows, Jake felt the impact of evil. “He won’t talk. I can guarantee that. I have to plan this very carefully. We need a few warning signs, some things we can have on record that we discussed with the doctors, expressed our concerns, but no one can substantiate.” She rubbed her hands together. “This is good, Ryan. Maybe that skinny little rat will be worth something to us after all.”
Instinctively Jake knew he was in for trouble. He had already made up his mind to survive, to beat them at their own game. He could be stronger. He’d seen how to do it. He had to be smarter and faster and more ruthless than any of th
em. He couldn’t stop them yet, but he could endure, and that too would strengthen him.
He opened his hand and looked at the burns there. He had let her and her friend put out their cigarettes on him. He had been fast enough to get away, but he hadn’t been stupid about it, and he needed to remember this one moment, to mark the occasion so he would know he could be smarter, use his brains to defeat them. Down in his room, when he was certain he was alone, he took out a knife and slowly drew it over his thigh, making the first of many marks to prove to himself, to remind himself, that he had deliberately taken their punishment, that he had allowed it.
SIX YEARS
JAKE watched helplessly as Cathy and Ryan killed Agnes. They took tremendous pleasure in it. And they hurt her for a long time before they killed her. He was tied up and forced to watch as they systematically beat to death the woman who had raised him. Agnes had been cruel at times and apathetic at others, but at least she’d taken care of him. He knew what was coming next, because Cathy had told him what would happen to him. She’d smiled as she told him.
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