Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12)

by Christine Feehan

  Corinne stood frozen, her heart stammering, her baby kicking as a rush of adrenaline flooded her mother’s body.

  Dayan dropped the suitcases and moved with preternatural speed. He caught her up into the safety of his arms and leapt over the speeding car, taking to the air as he did so. Below him, the driver was spinning around, fishtailing, the occupants yelling with excitement. He could see them clearly, and for the first time, rage was beginning to smolder deep within his soul. He wanted no more humans threatening Corinne. A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, and he leaned over her silky hair, intending to whisper a command to her.

  Corinne clutched Dayan’s arm as they raced across the sky. He wasn’t running anymore. She was certain his feet weren’t touching the ground. No one could move that fast. No one. She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear, felt him merging with her mind, the waves of reassurance, of love and commitment. “Don’t tell me to forget this,” she countered sharply.

  Don’t order me to forget, Dayan. Not yet. Let me see you.

  She was seeing him for the first time. Before, she’d had glimpses, tantalizing clues, but she couldn’t fit the pieces together. Now he was sharing her mind, and she saw things, memories, images; she saw Dayan in different time periods. His memories didn’t make sense to her, but she knew they were real and not from history books. They were too detailed, too vivid. And he had saved her from the speeding car, leaping into the air and virtually flying with her.

  Your heart must match the beat of mine. Listen, Corinne, for I will not lose you. Breathe with me and do not be frightened.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered aloud.

  I’m not afraid of you.

  She didn’t want him to use his telepathic ability to rob her of this memory. Was she seeing the reason Dayan was so lonely, so utterly alone in a world where everyone seemed to be drawn to him? He was completely different. He could do magical things.

  Dayan took her to the safety of the rooftops, settling her gently in the shelter of a dormer. He glanced at the sky, and immediately clouds began swirling overhead, building fast and furious. The thick fog bank was returning with the unstable weather.

  Corinne watched his every move carefully, noting that his expression was exactly the same, but deep within his eyes burned a red flame of retribution. “You’re going to confront them, aren’t you?”

  “I want you to concentrate on your heart, Corinne.” He made it an order, delivered in his black-velvet voice. “It needs to be a nice steady beat. Hear it, feel mine.” He brought her palm to his chest, right over his heart. “Feel that rhythm? You can control it to some extent.”

  “How could you move so fast?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder. Corinne had been handicapped physically all of her life, so Dayan’s abilities were wondrous to her.

  “We will talk later, honey. I have a few minor details to attend to right now.”

  She reached out and caught his arm. “Be careful, Dayan. There’s such a thing as being

  too

  confident.”

  He bent his head to brush her forehead with a kiss. And then he was gone. Corinne blinked and Dayan had disappeared. She drew up her knees, breathing slowly and deeply, concentrating on her heart as he had commanded. For the moment, she allowed herself the luxury of belonging to him, of knowing he wanted her. Only her.

  What was he? Who was he?

  Dayan felt enormous power sweeping through his mind as he dissolved into droplets of mist. Streaking though the layers of fog, he moved swiftly toward the car that was roaring through the streets. A jagged lightning bolt slammed to earth directly into the path of the car. The vehicle lurched and fishtailed before it raced on. Hail poured out of the sky; ice the size of golf balls rained down on the roof of the car so hard it dented it. Visibility was destroyed by thick fog and sheets of ice. The driver slammed on his brakes, and the car slid to a halt. At once the deadly fog invaded the vehicle, pouring in through the windows and filling the empty spaces until it pushed out all the air.

  Within the fog was a peculiar mist, a vapor trail of a shadowy color that left an impression of great menace. The driver reached for the door handle, but it was already too late. The fog was winding around his throat like the coils of a snake. The strangely colored mist wound tighter and tighter until the driver was choking, gasping, turning gray, then blue, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  Both men in the back seat reached simultaneously for the doors. The fog seemed alive, fibrous, with tentacles that reached out to envelop them, slipping coil after coil around them like ever-tightening nooses. They struggled frantically, but their struggles caused the loops of fog to squeeze them more tightly until they were gasping and choking, reaching up to tear at the coils around their throats. Their hands simply went through the fog as if it were mist and nothing else. They died silently, without a chance to cry out for help.

  Dayan guided the vehicle through the thick fog, using his peculiar radar so that he could keep the cloud cover around him as he removed the car from Corinne’s neighborhood. These men would be found, but their deaths would baffle any coroner. Dayan had left no marks on any of them. All three appeared to have choked to death or strangled on something, but there were no drugs in their systems, no marks or evidence of foul play. Dayan was tired of being chased, and the members of the society had gone too far this time. They were determined to capture or kill Corinne and Lisa. Dayan could not allow the society to threaten his lifemate. By leaving the men dead in their car a few blocks from Corinne’s home, he was sending his message loud and clear to the society members. They would continue the pursuit at their own peril. Corinne and Lisa were under his protection, and he would destroy anyone who threatened them.

  The swirling black clouds overhead were dissipating along with the trails of fog. Corinne lay back on the roof, watching the patterns of the clouds, the lightning arcing from one black cauldron to another. It was a beautiful display, but it was frightening too, because it seemed so intense, so personal.

  Like Dayan.

  Everything about him was intense. He was always outwardly calm, tranquil even, yet she sensed so much more beneath the surface. Swirling like the dark clouds above her head.

  Just as fast as he had gone, Dayan returned, standing over her, tall and powerful. She blinked up at him in total amazement. She closed her eyes when he reached for her. Tall. Elegant. Powerful. That same wildness was on him, clinging to him along with a lethal menace. It was something she couldn’t quite define, but that was nonetheless real.

  “I told you to keep your heart rate steady,” he greeted her very softly, the menace strong in his voice. He lifted her in his arms, cradling her against his chest so that her heart immediately began to tune itself to his. “You said you were not afraid of me, honey, yet your pulse is racing.”

  “You appeared out of nowhere,” she said defensively, thumping his shoulder with her clenched fist. “I am human, you know.” She looked up at him with large, steady eyes. “Are you human, Dayan?”

  He bent his dark head, his teeth very white in the night. “What do you think?” The words were whispered softly against her throat, against her pulse. “Do I feel human to you?” His voice was temptation itself.

  Corinne knew better than to listen, she was so easily distracted by the sheer enticement of his voice. Her hands of their own volition found the thick abundance of his hair and tangled in the silky strands. “How do you do that so easily?” she asked, knowing her eyes would have given away her feelings even if he couldn’t read her mind. She

  loved

  being with him, everything about him. She wanted to erase that look from the depths of his eyes for all time. The emptiness. The loneliness. “I’m beginning to think you’re bad for my heart, Dayan. You can melt a woman at twenty paces. You can. And you made the weather change.”

  Dayan’s mouth continued to explore the soft column of her throat. “I did? I must be very talented. I hope such a feat earned your e
verlasting admiration.” He sounded slightly distracted, as if it were more important to discover the softness of her skin than to hold a conversation. “You are very tired, Corinne. We ought to start out to meet the healers this night, but I think you need to rest. You have had enough excitement for one evening.”

  Her head rested on his shoulder, her long lashes fanning her cheeks. She was tired, more now than ever. As he carried her to the edge of the roof, he moved with such smoothness, she felt as if she were floating. “I loved dancing with you,” she murmured without opening her eyes, enjoying the breeze blowing in her face. “I love the way you move.”

  “So I am making progress after all,” he said. He floated with her to the ground easily, his mind fully merged with hers so that he could control her impressions of what was happening, fogging the memory a little at a time so it was slowly fading away. He had wanted to reveal what he was, who he was. He wanted Corinne’s acceptance of him, yet he knew her body was weak, her heart failing. He couldn’t take a chance yet. When she found out the truth, he wanted the healer’s assurance that her heart would withstand the shock. As he drew a hazy veil over the evening’s shocking events, he stressed different memories: his kisses; her response. Retrieving the suitcases, he made sure her seat belt was snug before he pulled the car away from the curb.

  Corinne sat quietly on the seat beside him, astonished at how tired she was. The stress of the pregnancy on her body was beginning to tell on her. Dayan was driving carefully through the streets, his fingers entwined with hers. “Isn’t it strange?” she mused. “If someone hadn’t tipped Lisa off that you were playing in that bar, we would never have met.”

  “I would have found you.” It was a statement of fact, quietly delivered.

  Corinne was silent the rest of the way home. Her mind was pleasantly blank. She was tired and strangely happy just to be in his company. Minutes earlier, she had scented the wildness in him, but now she felt his tranquility, an utter calmness that seeped deep into her soul. Dayan seemed content to drive through the night, humming softly under his breath. The tune was one she had never heard before. It was hauntingly beautiful.

  Lisa was waiting on the small balcony, trying not to look like she was worrying. She watched anxiously while Dayan courteously helped Corinne out of the car. He would have carried her, but Corinne was all too conscious of eyes on them.

  You are being silly.

  The words brushed her mind tenderly.

  Who cares what anyone thinks?

  Corinne summoned up her courage to answer him in her mind. The sheer intimacy of their communication appealed to her.

  I don’t want her to think I’m not feeling well.’ ‘You are not feeling well.

  He pointed it out very nicely.

  Corinne looked up at him from under her long lashes, just one swift reprimand before she smiled at Lisa. Above her head, Dayan found himself smiling. That was his Corinne. Sweet and sassy at the same time.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Lisa asked, her eyes anxious.

  “Of course. I’m just a little tired,” Corinne admitted. “I thought I’d lie down for a while. What are you doing still up?”

  “Waiting for you.” Lisa glanced at Dayan and looked away. She wasn’t certain why she trusted him when she was with him but felt suspicious when he was out of her sight. He made Corinne act out of character. Corinne had never looked that closely at men, not even when she had been single. Corinne was practical, businesslike. She wasn’t the type to cling to a rock star. Lisa tried not to glare at the man.

  Dayan felt sympathetic to her. Lisa was disgusted with herself that she was jealous. She didn’t want Corinne looking at Dayan with stars in her eyes. She didn’t want Corinne looking at anyone like that. She wasn’t willing to change her relationship with Corinne in any way, but she didn’t like herself very much for her possessiveness.

  “It’s almost dawn,” Corinne said gently. “You should be in bed, Lisa, not worrying about me. You knew we were going to get our things. It was bound to take a little bit of time.”

  “So there were no problems,” Cullen said, wrapping his arm around Lisa’s shoulders in a show of support.

  “Well — “ Corinne seemed confused, a slight frown crossing her small face. She glanced up at Dayan for help as she nervously shoved a stray strand of dark hair from her face.

  Dayan immediately flooded her mind with warmth and reassurance. She was bewildered and disoriented for a moment, unable to recall exactly what had happened. She was searching her memories, and they were a jumble of confusion. “Nothing we could not handle,” he answered easily, truthfully. His hands settled along her hips, anchoring her to him. “If we had known you were worried, Lisa, we would have called.”

  “Of course I was worried,” Lisa said in challenge, her chin up.

  Corinne leaned back heavily against Dayan, weariness sweeping through her. “Lisa,” she said quietly, drawing on the strength of their relationship.

  At once Lisa reached out and took Corinne’s hand. “I’m picking a fight again. Just come and lie down, Corinne. I don’t want you to become ill.”

  Dayan indicated Lisa’s suitcase with his chin. “She was very careful to get everything on your list.” He was moving Corinne toward the bedroom where she’d slept the night before.

  Corinne knew Lisa was worried about her, but she didn’t have the energy to reassure her further. All she wanted to do was lie down and close her eyes. Her body felt like lead, and each step was like wading through quicksand.

  Lisa watched Dayan’s every move — the way he held Corinne so gently, the way his eyes moved over Corinne’s face tenderly, possessively. Lisa heaved a soft sigh and moved closer to Cullen. He responded by tightening his hold on her, and she looked up at him and smiled rather sadly. Her world was changing, and Lisa wasn’t someone who managed change easily. Corinne looked very tired and fragile. It always frightened Lisa to see her looking like that. Her fragility highlighted the fact that Corinne’s heart was fading.

  “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to her,” Lisa whispered to Cullen. “I really couldn’t.”

  Dayan, with his superior hearing, heard her whispered confession. He knew exactly how she felt and could sympathize with her. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to Corinne either. He bent forward to brush the top of Corinne’s silky head with a kiss, but he couldn’t leave Lisa feeling so upset. He glanced back to capture her anxious gaze with his black one. It only took a few seconds, but it was enough. He sent her waves of reassurance, pushing a little further into her mind so he could implant a feeling of warmth toward him.

  Corinne took her time getting ready for bed. Dayan had pulled up his guitar, and she dawdled as he began to play. The music seemed alive, a part of the harmony of the earth and sky, a dreamy ballad. At first his voice was so soft she could barely make out the lyrics. She hurried out of the bathroom into the bedroom so she could listen to every word. His voice was mystical, beautiful, dreamlike. He looked up at her and the world seemed to stop spinning, standing still so the moment was locked in her memory for all time.

  You take my breath away.

  She thought the words to him, not wanting to interrupt his singing, not wanting to miss one single word of the ballad. It was a song of haunting loneliness, of a man, a wanderer, a troubadour, searching through time, century after century, for the one woman who could love him.

  His sensual mouth curved into a smile, and his gaze drifted over her before his lashes lowered and his hand moved over the guitar. His fingers worked so fast she could hardly follow them as they played the haunting melody. He sang of a dark shadow slowly spreading over his soul, a stain that would be impossible to eradicate once it took him over. A powerful beast that roared continually for release from within. As time went on and he did not find his lady, colors and emotions faded, along with all hope, leaving him only his guitar and the words of his song.

  It was a dark melody that brought tears to her eyes. Corin
ne curled up on the bed, intently watching his face as he played. The light bothered her eyes, so she casually flicked her hand to turn it off. All that mattered in her world was Dayan and his perfect voice singing this hauntingly beautiful song. She had a sudden desire to hold him in her arms, to be the woman who was needed so desperately.

  The music changed subtly, introducing a hopeful strain, one that rose to a joyful crescendo. She found herself smiling there in the dark, her eyes glued to his face. He was an artist, a poet without compare. She loved watching his expression as he played, as his soul poured out its music. Corinne’s eyelashes lowered onto her cheeks. She was very tired. And Dayan was there with her, solid and real, impossibly strong and healthy.

  For one moment the guitar was silent as Dayan stretched out beside her, laying the instrument across his chest.

  She smiled. “Are you going to play for me until I fall asleep?”

  “Absolutely.” She heard his answering smile in his voice. “You have sweet dreams, honey. Dream about us together.” His fingers once again glided over the strings, producing a soft ballad.

  She was dreaming. Daydreaming. Nightdreaming. She only knew it was wonderful to be with him as she drifted away on his music. He made her feel alive and very feminine. She could even pretend to be healthy. In the midst of her dream, trails of fog began to slowly wind through the stars. She frowned, felt Dayan rub his index finger gently back and forth over her forehead.

  “Go to sleep, honey. I want you to sleep all day until sunset.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead, taking away her frown. “Do you understand me, honey? Sleep deeply until I call for you to wake.”

  She was more asleep than awake. “You’re ordering me around again, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. I expect you to obey me.” The sounds of his guitar filled the room, filled her heart and soul. “You know you are my life, you know it. Tell me you do.”

  “I wish I were your life.” She was almost asleep, not certain what she was saying. “You are definitely my life.”