Dark Melody (Dark Series - book 12)

by Christine Feehan

  “Our species has problems having babies, particularly females. Few of us conceive females, and those that do rarely carry them to full term. Even after they are born, our babies often do not survive the first year of life. It is a terrible tragedy and has contributed to the decline of our race. Because you must be given blood to save your life, the baby will be given the same blood — “

  “No!” Corinne was adamant. “Her life is more important than mine. She has to come first in every decision. I know Dayan doesn’t want that, but it is

  my

  decision to make, not his. I don’t want to give her life only to have her lose it because I selfishly wanted to live myself. It would be better to chance giving birth to her now and allowing the doctors to do their best. They are performing miracles with premature babies. You said yourself she was strong.”

  Desari shook her head. “She would not have survived had you given birth the night Dayan removed you from the hospital. It took all of Gregori’s strength and power to keep her alive. It is too late to turn back now. She has Dayan’s blood in her system. She needs us now to help her survive. A human doctor could never save her life.”

  Corinne twisted her fingers into the quilt in agitation. “I feel helpless,” she confessed to the women. “I’ve always been the one to handle the problems in our lives, and now I can’t help my own child when she needs it the most.”

  Desari shook her head. “You are so wrong, Corinne. Now more than ever it is you who will have to have the strength of will to carry her. You are already monitoring your own heart and attempting to regulate it.”

  “I feel Dayan with me when I have trouble. He’s the one regulating my heartbeat and pushing the air through my lungs,” Corinne corrected. “I know he’s there.”

  “Of course — he is your lifemate,” Desari said complacently. “But he cannot save you if you are not willing to be saved. You are using your will, and it is considerable.” She patted the quilt. “I see you like this quilt. Francesca, lifemate to Gabriel, made it for you. She is a great healer who lives in Paris. When she received word that you were carrying a baby and you needed aid, she made this specifically for you. It is a healing quilt. Along with the healing symbols, she used other symbols to aid in your protection should there be enemies that — find you.”

  “It’s so beautiful,” Corinne said honestly. “I didn’t want to give it up. I hope I will have the opportunity to thank her for such a unique gift.”

  Desari patted her hand. “I would like to examine you and renew the healing process if it is possible. Do you remember what it felt like? Savannah and Tempest will lend me their strength, and we shall at least make you more comfortable. Lie back and we will begin.”

  Dayan, streaking through the air, appeared as a long trail of droplets, much like a comet moving rapidly through the night sky. Gregori and Darius were on either side of him, formidable hunters both, but it was Dayan’s lifemate who was threatened, and he was the one who must save her. He felt the beast rising within him, struggling for supremacy. Gregori, renowned for his storms, generated a fierce squall, and dark clouds rolled in swiftly to cover their flight through the night sky in pursuit of the vampire.

  Lightning zigzagged, arcing from cloud to cloud, intense and ominous. Hues of deep purple and black smeared the sky so that the stars were slowly obliterated. Thunder reverberated through the valley, echoed down the canyons, heralding a storm of great magnitude. Far below, as the three hunters streaked across the roiling sky, wild creatures sensing dangerous predators hastily found shelter and remained very still. Domesticated dogs yelped in fear and hid as the dark shadows passed overhead.

  Dayan.

  Gregori’s voice was compelling, a soft command.

  The beast is strong in you. Remember, you are in twofold danger. Your lifemate is not locked to you. There is no anchor to hold you to the path. The violence will trigger the rising of the beast. It is a time for care, not rage. Along with your life, your soul is in mortal danger.

  Dayan could hear the purity of Gregori’s voice and it washed through the red haze of anger clouding his mind. For a moment he could see and hear clearly again, but then the thought of the vampire seeking Corinne, threatening her consumed him again, and he continued his swift pursuit toward the enemy.

  Darius and Gregori flying on either side of Dayan easily kept pace, senses flaring out to scan for any hidden traps. The vampire wasn’t attempting to conceal his line of retreat. They knew from centuries of experience that if he was seriously attempting to evade them, he would be throwing up more of a blind.

  Dayan was well aware of the vampire’s intentions. He didn’t care. He had tremendous confidence in his own strength and skill. Though he did not consider himself a hunter of the undead, he had often accompanied Darius on such hunts. It was his lifemate who was threatened now, and their code of honor dictated it was Dayan’s responsibility as well as his right to remove that threat.

  Suddenly an acid shower came from above the storm clouds, assaulting the flying hunters. Thin streaks of silvery light began to rain through the swirling black vapor. Almost impossible to see, the droplets burned with a caustic acid, searing the skin. The threads fell like poisonous darts straight at the hunters. They knew that the deadly shower was a delaying tactic of the fleeing vampire.

  Immediately Gregori rose above Dayan, instinctively protecting him. As Gregori took the higher position, Darius sent up a flaming streak of orange-red light, pure energy, vaporizing the slivers of acid before they could reach their targets.

  Dayan caught a glimpse of the vampire through the clouds, streaking across the sky. Dayan doubled his speed, moving straight as an arrow toward the fleeing vampire. He was a protйgй of Darius, had learned from him. Dayan believed in directness, taking the fight to the enemy. He felt the presence of the evil one, a thick oily substance left behind so that the air reeked with the stench of the undead. Dayan shot out a wave of vibrations, a high-frequency sound that deafened the skies and knocked the fleeing demon from the clouds.

  Just ahead they saw the figure struggling to shape-shift, to sprout wings. He was already dangerously close to the ground, and at the last possible moment, the vampire did an amazing athletic feat and spun, landing on his feet like a cat. At once he sought to cloak his presence from the hunters and the mortals occupying the area.

  Dayan!

  Darius’s imperious warning was sharp.

  It is a trap. Scan.

  Dayan had automatically done so as he streaked in behind the vampire. There were four humans in a small cabin, all males. All fanatical. The stench of the society clung to them. Dayan knew they were not in league with the undead; The vampire was simply using them as another delaying tactic. Dayan was supremely confident in Darius and Gregori. Their reputations were legend. He didn’t have to look to see that they were gliding in behind him. He knew they were there and trusted them to take care of the humans.

  “I believe you wanted to introduce yourself,” Dayan said softly to the vampire, his voice pure and melodious, the sound filling every atom of space around them though he hadn’t raised his voice. “You will turn and face me, vampire. I am quite willing to accept your challenge.”

  The vampire shuddered with the effort to break free from the sound of that voice. It was made for golden tunes, truth and honesty. It was hideous to the creature, so that he pressed his hands hard against his ears in an attempt to block out the sound. He turned slowly, hands clamped to his head, his body swaying slightly. As he turned he opened his mouth as if to speak. A black swarm of insects erupted all around him, the air thick with them, so many they appeared as a solid wall, for one brief second obscuring Dayan’s vision of the undead.

  He was striding forward, easily blocking the stinging, poisonous bugs by deflecting them away from his body with a powerful current of moving air he produced with a casual wave of his hand. He continued moving rapidly, a blur as he whipped through the cloud of living shields. Dayan realized immediately
that the vampire had used the insects to flee once again. He had disappeared as if he had never been, leaving behind an empty space in the air. Blankness.

  Behind him, Dayan heard the shouts of the humans, the loud discharge of a weapon. The air vibrated with power, the storm raged, yet nothing mattered but that he pursue his quarry — the vampire who had sought his lifemate. He used the blankness to track the undead. The vampire was concealing his form, but Dayan wasn’t fooled. The stench of his prey was overpowering, and he followed unerringly. He didn’t glance behind him; he knew Darius and Gregori would be taking care of the enemy and would follow him as soon as possible.

  The storm was fierce, a boiling, spinning mass of heavy black clouds. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud and there was a fast buildup of electrical charge along the ground. Bolts slammed from sky to earth, the sound deafening. The land shook. Nearby a large tree exploded in a fiery conflagration. Sparks rained onto vegetation. A wall of flames leapt at Dayan, solid, orange-red, a brilliant living, mindless antagonist roaring straight for him. At once he whirled quickly, a cloak of wet mist enveloping him as he raced through the fire with preternatural speed. He heard the sizzle of the mist as it heated and evaporated, but he was through and on the other side.

  A dark shadow was just ahead, fleeing toward the darkened interior of a thicket of trees. Dayan took to the air, shape-shifting as he did so, a streamlined raptor racing through the canopy of branches to reach the undead before it managed to get to its lair. He came in from high above, dropping down out of the turbulent sky so fast the vampire had no warning. The large body of the bird knocked the night creature off balance, sharp talons raking viciously so that tainted blood splattered to the carpet of vegetation, withering it on contact.

  Snarling, the vampire staggered, tearing blindly at the sky around him in an attempt to destroy his enemy, his head undulating back and forth like a reptile. He was a hideous, depraved being determined to live at all costs. Desperately he tried to regain his balance, his bearings, searching the sky and ground for his attacker.

  Dayan was moving so fast he was a blur, a chameleon blending in with the trees, once more in human form. He struck straight at the abomination, the fury of the kill rising with the heat of battle. Flames leapt in the depths of his coal black eyes, and every vestige of the poet was gone, leaving behind the beast with the lust of battle on him. His fist plunged through the wall of the vampire’s chest, a flimsy barrier, straight for the withered, blackened heart. The age-old lure of the beast was on him. Bloodlust was a red haze clouding judgment and honor, beckoning relentlessly. More, always more, it demanded, never sated, never satisfied.

  Corinne heard the soft voice of the Dark Troubadours’ acknowledged leader, Darius. A whisper of purity, soft and perfect, cleansing and healing like a fresh cool rain.

  Corinne. You are needed. You must summon him back to you. No other can save him now. I will feed your strength with my own. Call him to your side. You must do so now.

  The voice was calm, tranquil even, yet she knew immediately there was a terrible urgency. She didn’t stop to question. She was so tuned to Dayan, the moment she reached out for his mind, she felt the killing frenzy, the implacable grip of the beast.

  Corinne lay very still, instinctively taking a deep breath and letting it out to relax. She focused her thoughts on Dayan, blocking out everything else around her. The room fell away, the constraints of her physical condition fell away, even her awareness of Darius, until there was only Dayan in her mind. Her Dayan. Tall and sweet and loving. Generous. Giving. She closed her eyes until she could almost smell his clean woodsy scent.

  Dayan.

  Deliberately she used his name. Calling the man. Reaching for the intellect.

  Dayan, come back to me.

  At once he was there with her, merged deeply so that she was in the heat of his battle with the smell of blood and the lust for the kill dominating his brain. She was quiet a moment, faintly shocked at actually witnessing the violent side of him she had always sensed. Corinne lay very quietly, stayed completely focused. Unknowingly she used her own talent, creating a surge of power. This was simply another side of Dayan. Her Dayan.

  Come back to me. Leave that place and return to where you are needed.

  She put all her energy into her call, but that didn’t matter. Dayan was all that mattered.

  She sensed the terrible struggle. Something else was fighting for him. Something shadowy, not tangible, but nevertheless, very powerful. She felt the dark stain spreading like a disease through him, the triumph of the beast as it threatened to consume him. At first Corinne believed he was locked in mortal combat with the vampire. Whatever it was, his adversary was evil and greedy and it wanted Dayan. Then she realized the vampire was dying. This other force struggling with her wanted Dayan’s soul, wanted to turn him into the very thing he hunted and destroyed. She understood little of it, but instinctively she latched on to the mental strength flowing from Darius into her. She regulated her breathing, worked at regulating Dayan’s. Adrenaline was pumping through his body, mixing with the frenzied savagery of the predator until he was more animal than man. Cunning, feral, a creature of the night.

  You are Dayan, a musician without equal, a poet with words that take my breath away. You are my lifemate, my heart and soul. Come back to me, Dayan. Leave that place. Leave that poor unfortunate aberration. Pray God will find him a better place. You can do nothing more for him. Come home to me.

  She spoke from her deepest core, meaning every word, feeling every word. He was so deeply entrenched in her heart, buried so deeply in her soul, she didn’t know where he left off and she began.

  For a moment, reason and judgment shimmered in his brain, a whirling silver mist breaking through the red killing haze.

  Corinne?

  His voice was distant, a faraway thread of sound, drowned out quickly by a bellow of rage.

  Corinne remained very calm, sending waves of love and tranquility to Dayan. Darius was with her, guiding her from a great distance. On some level she was aware of his direction, but most of her actions were instinctive. This was Dayan, her other half, and he was out in the dark night somewhere with lightning and thunder crashing to earth around him, a fitting backdrop for the turbulence in his mind. They were merged so closely, she could feel the wild winds, the terrible vortex of violence, whirling like a tornado, strong and destructive, determined to sweep aside the man and leave the aroused beast.

  Dayan, come back to me. Leave that place and come to me. The baby is resting quietly and I’m very tired. I need you here where you belong.

  She

  was

  tired. The mind link was difficult for her even with Darius’s strength infusing her. Her body was worn and tired. A sound was beginning to impose itself into the violence of Dayan’s mind. It was weak, irregular, a soft thumping like a distant drum. The code was strange and erratic. A beat. A miss.

  Corinne felt Dayan move within her mind. A soft hiss, a groan of despair.

  Corinne!’

  Her name was whispered in that velvet soft voice. She closed her eyes, certain he would come. The beast could never hold him when she needed him. Nothing would stop him from coming to her. She felt the strength of his determination, knew he was wrestling for supremacy, to cage the beast within him. Corinne left him to it. Breathing was an effort now, her lungs laboring.

  She felt Desari at her side, holding her hand, whispering a chant. She felt the healing energy of the three women. It was a warm tingling moving through her body, Desari was tranquil, she was always serene, yet Corinne sensed an alarm. It didn’t matter, none of it did. Dayan was on his way, and she knew he would somehow make things right. She wanted to hear the sound of his voice.

  Corinne drifted in a dream world. She heard his music, the beautiful poetic words that emerged from his soul as he expressed his need for love. His need for Corinne. Only Corinne. She believed him at last. He could do things others could not, and he would come back t
o her from the dark terrible struggle for his soul. She had faith. “Complete faith.” She murmured the words aloud, but her voice was too soft even for the acute hearing she had acquired recently.

  Dayan.

  His name was her strength, her anchor so that she wouldn’t drift too far from the real world.

  Corinne.

  His voice whispered through her mind, filled her heart and lungs, so for a moment it was easier to breathe. Her long lashes fluttered as she tried to reassure the women she was still alive. Her lashes were far heavier than she remembered them being. In the end, it was too much of an effort to raise them, so she made herself smile instead.

  I knew you would come. Hurry, Dayan. I don’t know why I’m so tired.

  Corinne was certain she thought the words clearly in her mind, but they seemed to be slurred, running together like fine grains of sand. Her free hand moved slowly over the thick quilt, seeking something she needed.

  Desari bunched up the comforter so that one particular symbol was under Corinne’s moving fingers. At once Corinne’s hand closed around it, tranquil once more.

  Dayan streaked through the sky, faster than he had ever moved in his life. Corinne was fading away. He could feel her sliding away from him, moving in a direction he dared not allow her to go. Dark vapor parted as he burst through the clouds, a streak of blue-green against the roiling black of the heavens. Mist swirled in long tails along the ground and began to build up around the trees and houses.

  Darius kept pace with him, concentrating on the child, whose hold on life was so fragile he was uncharacteristically worried. Gregori was attempting to hold Corinne to earth, focusing on her fading heart. The amount of energy she’d used to keep Dayan from succumbing to the lure of the kill had been more than her weak heart could stand. Corinne was fighting it, wasn’t afraid — she simply trusted in Dayan, knew that he would be there for her as she had been for him.