Dark 12 - DARK MELODY

by Christine Feehan

  His black gaze bore straight into hers until she felt as if he were taking possession of her, forcing compliance in some way. "You will obey me in this." There was absolute authority in his voice.

  The smile faded from Corinne's soft mouth so that her intriguing dimple simply melted away. "I promise to do my best, Dayan," she capitulated solemnly.

  He bent his dark head to hers, his mouth brushing the top of her silky head. "It is always better to see things my way," he said with great satisfaction.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  Corinne pulled away from Dayan, a delicate retreat. The slightest contact with him sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, turned her insides to mush. "You're a bit on the arrogant side, but I doubt I'm the first person to tell you that." She glanced over her shoulder at him, teasing, enticing, without realizing her heart was in her eyes.

  He felt the breath slam right out of his lungs. He glided after her, a great jungle cat stalking his prey. Silent. Intense. His gaze fixed on her face as she backed away. Corinne forgot they were on a porch and stepped off the platform without looking. Somehow Dayan managed to catch her. She blinked, and that fast he was cradling her safely in his arms. "Fortunately for you, I can live up to my reputation. Look where you are going next time." Deliberately he flashed his immaculate white teeth at her, displaying masculine amusement at her predicament.

  Corinne raised her eyebrow, managing to look haughty even while cradled in his arms. "How did you do that? How could you move fast enough to catch me?"

  "I am a superhero," he confessed soberly. "I never told you because I feared you would not like men in capes. Mine is very traditional, but nice all the same."

  She laughed so hard she had to clutch at his shoulder, afraid she might fall out of his arms. "You'd like me to believe you're a superhero. I want to see the all-important cape. You can't be a superhero without one." She liked being in his arms. She loved being in his arms. He was enormously strong, yet surprisingly gentle. He could say the most outrageous things with a straight face and innocent black eyes. She looked up at him from under her long lashes. "You need tights to be a superhero too. Bright blue tights," Corinne pointed out wickedly.

  One black eyebrow shot up eloquently. "Tights?" He repeated the word as if it were not in his vocabulary. "Blue tights?"

  She tried to look serious but she couldn't stop laughing and her heart was beginning to hurt. A hard, painful weight was pressing down on her, squeezing the air from her lungs so that she wanted not to gasp for air. Corinne looked away from him, not wanting him to see the struggle. It was amazing to her that she could be so happy, could forget everything so completely in his company. Her body had to remind her it was wearing out fast. Corinne blinked back sudden tears and buried her face against his shoulder.

  Dayan remained silent, allowing his heart to find the scattered, irregular rhythm of hers and slowly guide it back to normal. He cleared his mind of desperation, finding a calm center and reached across time and space as his kind could do. 'Darius. My need for the healer increases. I do not think I have much time.' There was a moment of time, a heartbeat of silence.

  Dayan never doubted, not even in his desperation. Darius's gentle voice flowed into his mind, flooded him with conviction. 'Two of our greatest healers are making their way to the Cascades. We will meet you there. We will not fail you, Dayan.' He took the directions straight from Darius's mind, learning the way to a safe house owned by one of the Carpathians' greatest healers, Gregori, and his wife, Savannah, daughter of their Prince. 'I thank you for moving so quickly. All is well with you?'

  'Yes. The women are anxious to see you and your lifemate.'

  Dayan took comfort in Darius's voice and words. In his long lifetime, Dayan had never known Darius to fail at a task. If he gave his word about something, it was done. They were family. They had traveled together for nearly a thousand years. To know that his family was mobilizing swiftly, moving to help him save his lifemate, gave him added confidence it could be done. They would find a way to save her. If possible, the child also, but it was imperative they save Corinne. Without her, Dayan could not continue. He would not want to face the darkness and the emptiness. Wherever she traveled, he would choose to be at her side, to protect and guard her in the next life.

  It was only after a few minutes of breathing normally that Corinne realized their hearts were beating with the same rhythm. Keeping her head pillowed on his shoulder, she looked up at him with her large green eyes. "Where are you? You've gone very solemn and serious on me."

  "I was 'talking' with my brother."

  "He's telepathic too?" Corinne lifted her head to look at him more closely. "Put me down, Dayan. I'm really capable of walking without breaking my neck. It must have been wonderful to grow up with someone who shared your talent."

  Dayan shrugged his powerful shoulders, a lazy ripple of muscle. "I never thought about it. All of us are telepathic. The entire family." Reluctantly he lowered her feet to the ground.

  "Do you think it's genetic, then?" Corinne pressed her hands protectively over her baby, suddenly afraid for her. Her own life had been at times very difficult because of her special gifts. She knew she wouldn't be around to protect and reassure her child when times were hard.

  Dayan's hands framed her face. "I call the Troubadours my family because we've been together since we were small children, but only Darius and Desari are truly brother and sister. Syndil, Barack and I are related the way you and Lisa are related. The ties are stronger than blood."

  "Of course, the members of your band. They all have interesting names."

  Dayan laughed softly. "I forget what a serious little fan you are. You have inflated my ego for all time."

  "A serious little fan," she echoed, her eyes beginning to smolder with hidden fire. She tossed her head, the copper highlights in her hair sizzling from the walkway light as it came on automatically. "I'll have you know that it isn't you I'm a fan of, but music. There is a difference, you know. Don't get me wrong – " She held up her hand to ward him off as he advanced rather purposefully on her. She found herself laughing again, watching his eyes glinting at her. "You've convinced me to be a fan. Really, you have. I'll stare adoringly at you next time you play." She batted her eyelashes and fanned herself. "I could act the perfect little groupie if your ego needs a boost."

  "I'm flattered," he said, catching her small hand in his. "So tell me what you know of our band."

  She shrugged casually. "You play guitar, as does Barack. Syndil plays the drums and just about any other instrument. Desari is your lead singer, and she has an amazing voice. You sing only when the mood strikes you or if a particular song warrants it. My guess is, you both write the lyrics to your songs." She smiled up at him. "And your music is awesome, although there are a few others who are right up there with you." She looked down at her fingernails. "Legends."

  His eyebrows shot up. "Who? Name a legend."

  "In what category? I like rock and roll myself."

  "Rock and roll?" There was a slight sneer in his voice. "Who would you consider a legend in rock and roll? Tread carefully, your reputation is on the line."

  "What year are we talking here? In the fifties there was so much going on. If you're going to be all snobby about modern rock and roll, we can raise the stakes and talk blues or jazz. Surely you'll admit there are legends in blues and jazz."

  "I'll concede that point to you, but you can't start looking in the fifties. The origins of rock and roll began long before the fifties. Have you listened to the tribal music and the original beats coming out of Africa?"

  She grinned at him, one eyebrow shooting up. "Surely you aren't testing me, thinking I don't know my music history. That isn't the point. Do you honestly think there aren't legends from the fifties and sixties?"

  "Maybe the Dark Troubadours," he mused, his black eyes laughing at her wickedly.

  "Excuse me, Mr. Legend, what about Louis Armstrong? Do not make the mistake of turning up
your nose at him. Muddy Waters, for heaven's sake, and BB King, he's awesome. He just has such presence. And Stevie Ray Vaughn. I could name several others."

  "You are only supposed to think of me as a legend."

  He meant to tease her, but as he bent his dark head toward her passionate little face, his gaze found her lips and his heart nearly stopped. He closed the small gap between them, fastening his mouth on hers, taking her breath and giving her air. The earth stopped moving for him. The world dissolved and there was only Corinne in his mind, in his arms. His eyes burned strangely, his body hardened like a rock, his stomach did a curious somersault, and his heart simply melted. There was everything in her kiss. Passion and fire. Exquisite tenderness. A promise. Dayan lifted his head before it was too late to pull back.

  Corinne blinked up at him, clearly bemused. "How do you do that?"

  "You and I are lifemates…"

  "Lifemates?" Corinne echoed. The word was beautiful and implied something permanent and binding. She wondered if it was an interpretation of a term from his native language. She had heard him use the word several times before.

  His black eyes moved over her face in a serious, intent study. His gaze was brooding. Incredibly sexy. "Lifemates," he affirmed. "Married, but more. Married as in an eternal commitment."

  "That's a beautiful concept, Dayan, but don't most people think they'll be married for all time?" His eyes reminded her of a great jungle cat. There was a burning intensity about him when he looked at her. Deep inside her there was an answering need, calling out for him alone.

  His hand capturing hers, he tugged gently until her small body was pressed up against his. "You are my lifemate, Corinne. I recognized you the moment I laid eyes on you. I know you are the light to my darkness, that your soul is the other half of my own. Each of the members of my family has found a lifemate. Barack and Syndil were meant for one another. Desari's lifemate is Julian. Darius has Tempest, and I am amazed I found you. I had no hope that you existed."

  Corinne ducked her head. Dayan believed every word he said. They barely knew one another, yet he was so certain. He almost made her believe they had a future together. She knew better; she knew her heart was deteriorating. Dayan had slowed the inevitable by whatever he had done the night before, but she knew her heart would never last beyond the birth of her child. She was already worn, her heart laboring and her lungs struggling. "I like all of your names," she said, determined to change the direction of their conversation. "Are they stage names or your actual names?"

  Dayan smiled without humor. "We change many things about ourselves, but we have always kept the names we were given at birth."

  Mysterious secrets were locked behind his extraordinary eyes. His eyes looked old, as if he had seen far too many things. There was a quiet strength in the sculpted features of his face. At times he could look quite young, and at others, older and more worn. His body could be so still, not even revealing he was breathing, yet when he chose to move, he was so fast that if she blinked she missed the actual movement. Dayan. He filled her mind as no one had ever done. He gave her dreams she dared not have.

  Corinne touched his face with gentle fingers, sorrow for him welling up so that it overwhelmed her. She had thought to warn him, to allow him to make his own decision regarding their relationship, but he was breaking her heart. "Don't do this, Dayan. Don't build your dreams around me. I'm so afraid for you. You deserve to be happy. I want you happy. Don't be like Lisa. She wants a miracle." The pad of her index finger outlined his perfect lips. "I don't want to cause you pain. I really don't."

  "I believe in miracles, Corinne. I found you. I have traveled the world for more years than you can possibly conceive, and never once did I hope for such a thing. Yet you are real. You walked right through the door of that bar. You came to me when I was certain my time was running out. I know there are miracles. Each one of our males who finds his lifemate knows there are such things as miracles. We have had this discussion before, but you refuse to listen. You are not going to die. I want you to believe that, Corinne. Start believing that."

  Corinne sighed softly and looked away from the hungry intensity of his eyes. He could convince anyone with that compelling look. She wanted to be convinced, to think that she might have a chance at a future with her child and a man she felt passionate about. The thought came unbidden, and at once she slammed the door on it. She didn't really know Dayan at all. Would she still be feeling the same way in a month? Two months? Would Dayan even want her around after a month or two? She knew absolutely nothing about him except that he was a musician who drifted from town to town with his band.

  'A brilliant musician. A legend of a musician.' Dayan corrected her thoughts, his black eyebrow slanting up as she tried to convince herself she didn't want him. "Get it right, Corinne. You know more of me than that. You know I do not chase women, that I am protective. You must know I am honest and trustworthy."

  "The ultimate Boy Scout, who eavesdrops on other people's thoughts," she reprimanded even as she wondered why it didn't embarrass her that he knew what she was thinking. She arced one eyebrow at him in a small taunt. "Pregnant women often think sexual thoughts, so don't flatter yourself."

  "I am only interested in the sexual thoughts of one pregnant woman. It is only natural that you would be sexually attracted to me, Corinne. If you were not, it would be a difficult merging for us. But you are my true lifemate, and I intend to claim you as my own for all time. I think sex should hold a place in our relationship." He grinned boyishly at her. "A very important place. That is how it is supposed to be."

  She found herself reluctantly smiling. "You sound so certain, so matter-of-fact, as if none of the obstacles matter at all."

  "Of course they do not matter. We must be together, we are meant to be. You feel it too, Corinne, I know you do. We do not have a choice. If you accept that we must be together, than we will find a way for it to be so."

  She looked away from the intensity in his glittering eyes. "I think you really must be a poet, Dayan. You believe in romance. Real life does not necessarily mirror poetry. All of us die, some just go a little sooner than others. My body is wearing out faster than it should. I was born that way, and I've always known it would happen. According to the doctors, I shouldn't have lived beyond my fourteenth birthday. I'm luckier than others who were born like me. That is reality." He was giving her a headache by refusing to accept the seriousness of her illness.

  He gave her a gentle little shake because he couldn't help himself. "I would like to tell you about the reality of my life, Corinne, what I have experienced without you, but you are not ready for such a confession. In the meantime I think we should talk to Lisa and Cullen and begin our journey tonight. We have a great distance to travel."

  Corinne shook her head. "We can't just pick up and leave. We have a life we've worked very hard for, Dayan. Lisa's profession demands she be available when she's needed."

  Dayan's black eyes moved over her face, brooding, moody, with a hint of menace she found disconcerting. There was something undefined about him that she couldn't quite name; it made her feel afraid.

  'Not afraid. You should never fear me. I could never harm you, Corinne. I will do everything in my power to see to your protection. And my powers are considerable.' He had shifted into the much more intimate communication of lifemates almost automatically. Dayan's arm circled her slender shoulders, held her very close in the moonlight. She was fragile, delicate, her bones small. Unexpectedly, fear slammed into him along with a kind of helpless fury. He needed a healer fast; he needed to find a way to gently steer her in the direction he wanted her to go. If necessary, he would use his telepathic ability to persuade her, but it was against his code of honor to influence his own lifemate in such a way.

  "It's the way you look sometimes, Dayan," Corinne said with a small self-mocking laugh. "You can look very intimidating when you choose." She smiled up at him, her fingertips going up to smooth the hard edge from his sensually sculpt
ed lips. "Like now, when you aren't getting your way."

  His black eyes burned over her face. "I will always get my way, honey, when it comes to protecting you. I do not think there is a rational argument you can make about this. Lisa will not care much for her job if you are dead. You are capable of writing songs anywhere. I also know that you are far more frightened than you are letting on and you agree with me that we should protect Lisa despite her refusal to accept how grave your situation is."

  "Is this what it's going to be like with you?" Corinne sent him a smoldering look of warning from under her long lashes. "I don't like you reading my mind."

  "You will soon be reading mine," he answered without censoring his thoughts.

  Corinne raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just supposed to suddenly acquire the ability to be telepathic? Does it rub off on people when you're around them too much?"

  Dayan shrugged again. "We will have to see, Corinne." His hand moved up and down her arms to warm her. "You are getting cold out here."

  "It's beautiful, though. I hate to be indoors at night. The sky always looks so incredible." Corinne laughed softly. "Of course, I feel that way during the day too. I love to look at clouds. Lisa drives like a maniac, but she says I'm worse because I can't keep my eyes off the sky." She looked up at him. "I don't want to miss anything, you know? The world is such a beautiful place; I want to see as much of it as I can." She walked a little further along the pavement. "Where are you from originally? You have an accent, but I can't place it."

  "I have traveled so much over the years I do not know if my way of speaking reflects any one place. I speak several languages. But I was born in the Carpathian Mountains in Europe. I spent most of my younger years in Africa."

  "How interesting. What did your parents do?"

  "I was a mere boy when they were killed. Darius raised us, the band members. We were all children, and we grew up a little wild." Dayan smiled at her, his teeth very white in the darkness. "I think we are still a little wild."