Dark Fire (39 page)

Did she believe in the fairy tale? Darius might believe he would grow old with her, but perhaps he would soon tire of her as men often did of their women. No man could really devote himself to one woman for all time. Certainly not for an eternity. She was a loner. Solitary by nature. Yet the thought of an eternity of solitude wasn't all that appealing. Tempest didn't mind going around once in life, but over and over didn't sound all that great. And then there was the blood thing.

Tempest made a face. Sucking the blood out of somebody's neck was a sickening thought.

Baby, you think the most depressing thoughts. Just put the whole thing out of your head. I will be fine, I will not tire of you, and you will never be allowed to suck anyone's blood. I, however, will have the pleasure of sucking on your neck and other parts of your anatomy as often as possible. After I strangle my two little sisters, everything will be fine.

You don't have to strangle them. I was the one who asked.

I will not leave you, my love.
His voice was a soft caress, but it carried total conviction. As their minds wen merged, she could clearly see his thoughts, his beliefs even his memories of the time before he met her. Hi had been a bleak, barren existence. She was his world She would always be his world. He believed that implicitly.

"I need to find the courage," she whispered aloud to herself.

Desari leaned into her. "You are our sister, beloved for: what you have given Darius. You already have shown great courage, just to brave being with him. Do not let us make you fret. Darius has chosen. So be it."

And you think this will relieve you of the responsibility
for making my lifemate fear for me, little sister?
Darius demanded.

Desari shook her head as if he could see her. The knock came again, signaling that it was time for the band to make an appearance on stage. "Come with us Rusti," she invited.

Tempest stepped back, suddenly shy. She had never liked crowds, and she definitely preferred to be anonymous. "I'll listen from a distance. Good luck, you two."

Syndil was appearing with the band for the first time since the trauma of her rape. Out in the hall, Barack and Dayan were waiting, along with several security and event staff, to escort them on stage. Julian and Darius were at the entrances. Security would remain tight for the duration of the concert, and there would be little chance for patrons to wander about the auditorium unobserved.

Tempest followed the band from a short distance, looking around for Darius. When she couldn't find him, she stayed just outside the door and listened. A roar went up, signaling that Desari was on stage. The band began a slow, moody ballad, one particularly suited to Desari's beautiful voice. It filled the hall and spilled out, dreamy, sexy, mystical.

Tempest touched the door with reverent fingers. No one had a voice like Desari. Once heard, it was impossible to forget. It conjured up dreams, fantasies, evoked intense emotions in all who heard her. Tempest felt a surge of pride in her. Somehow she had become part of them all. Accepted. Respected. A member of their peculiar family.

Cullen hurried up, obviously out of breath, his heart loud enough for Tempest to hear. "Where is he? Where's Darius?"

"At the entrance to the balcony, I think," she replied.

"The riverboat party. The bachelor thing. I saw Brady Grand among the passengers boarding the boat, but I don't think he got on. If he's the one who booked that boat, then it's a set-up. He's got a crew here."

"Who's Brady Grand?" Tempest was pacing alongside Cullen as he raced toward the stairs to find Darius.

"He's someone you don't want to meet. He heads up the society here on the West Coast. Damn it, where's Darius?" Cullen started up the stairs but was stopped by a uniformed security guard. He pointed impatiently to his tag and pushed past the man.

Tempest turned and ran to the door, rushing outside, running around the building toward the marina. The riverboat was still tied to the dock. Men were laughing and shoving one another as they moved up the pier to board the boat. She had no idea exactly what she was looking for. They all looked like normal partygoers to her. She stood very still, trying to see one thing that jangled, that jarred. The revelers continued to board the boat, their jokes lewd, a lot of playful pushing and shoving going on. Most of the men looked as if they'd already indulged in a great deal of partying before they arrived.

She shook her head and moved away from the bushes toward the marina store. Almost at once she felt a sharp object poking into her back. Thinking it was a branch, she started to turn. She saw a blur coming at her head, nothing she could identify, but she had no chance of getting her arms up to protect herself. Whatever it was smashed against her head, hard, and she was falling.

Inside the building Darius froze in place. Not a muscle moved. It was as if he stopped breathing. Then he was moving, far too fast for the human eye to see. He burst from the building, the beast raging for release. He felt it growing stronger and more lethal within him. He let it consume him, reaching for it, so that the thin veneer of civilization was gone. The savage predator was loose, and there was not one shred of mercy in its soul.

Tempest.
Her name was a whisper of sanity in his mind, the only thing keeping him from a berserker's rage. He could not kill everyone who crossed his path. He had to stay focused. She had been taken from him. But because she did not answer his call did not mean she was lost to him forever. He would know if she was dead. His soul would know. No, they had knocked her out in some way, made it impossible for his mind to reach hers. They had baited a trap, and in his arrogance, he had fallen into it. Thinking Desari the ultimate target, he had concentrated his protection there. Cullen had been right all along. They wanted Tempest.

Julian, they have taken Tempest. Stay and protect Desari and Syndil. Alert Dayan and Barack. I Witt go after her.

It is a trap.

Of course it is. Why else would they grab her when we were all here far the taking? They are using her for bait. I will go.

Darius moved swiftly away from the crowds, needing the open spaces. He sent a call to the night, sent a wind seeking his answers. It brought the scent of his prey, sharp and pungent, to his nostrils. Darius took to the sky, shape-shifting as he did so, his body becoming that of a winged night hunter. Below him he saw the winding ribbon of highway, the car speeding over the mountain road. They would be taking her somewhere close. Leading him into the trap.

Darius plunged straight down, streaking through the sky toward the windshield of the car, his huge expanse of wings spread wide. The bird completely eclipsed the glass, and the driver screamed and instinctively ducked. At the last moment Darius pulled up and disappeared as if he had never been. The car swerved wildly, fishtailing dangerously close to the cliff. The rear end swung around, smashed into dirt and rock, bounced off, then slid several feet before the driver could regain control of the vehicle.

Brady Grand swore as he clutched at the seat in front of him. "What the hell are you doing, Martin? We almost crashed. Slow down if you have to. Wallace says she has to be alive. We need information, and the only way to lure one of them to us is through a woman."

"You didn't see it?" Martin wiped the sweat from his face. "It was an owl. The biggest damned owl I ever saw."

"There wasn't anything there," Brady snarled. "You're just chicken. All you have to do is drive." Brady swept back the red-gold hair falling across Tempest's face so he could examine the ugly cut where Martin had hit her with the billy club. "You hit her too damned hard. She's bleeding like a stuck pig back here."

A gust of wind hit the side of the car, blowing it several inches into the other lane. Ahead of them ominous black clouds gathered from out of nowhere. Veins of lightning zigzagged from cloud to cloud. Thunder crashed so loudly, it shook the car. Martin ducked again and swore out loud. "This is getting out of hand, Brady. I say it's a warning of some kind. If something's doing this, I don't want to challenge it. Let them have her."

The car was slowing, pulling to the side of the road. Brady slapped the back of Martin's head hard. "Drive!

This is what we want. He'll follow us. We haw a poison that will render him helpless. We'll actually bag one of them. Just drive the damned car."

A cloud, black and sinister, poured into the car through a back window that was cracked open an inch. It flowed in, spreading a dark vapor that obscured all vision. Brady grabbed at the woman but felt something tugging her away from him.

"No way! I'll kill her!" He jerked his gun into position and pulled the trigger as fast as he could. It was too late. The vapor had wound itself around his throat and was pulling tighter and tighter. He felt his captive slide to the floor and tried to aim the gun at her head, pulling the trigger again, cursing as he did so. The reverberations from the shots were loud in the close confines of the car.

"You thought you could take my woman from me," Darius said softly.

The venomous black vapor suddenly felt real, felt like a solid noose, a garrote cutting deep into Brady's throat, slicing through flesh so that his blood ran like a river down his neck to soak into his immaculate white shirt. He was still cursing as he died.

Darius snarled silently as the stench of gunpowder drifted out the window and the black cloud slowly solidified. Blood was dripping from his left thigh, and another bullet had caught him near his hip when he had flung his body over Tempest to protect her. She wasn't moving, and it scared him to death. The driver was dead. Grand had shot him with his wild barrage of bullets.

Tenderly, carefully, he drew Tempest's motionless body from the bloodstained car. He clamped down hard on his own pain, taking time to examine every inch of her before launching himself skyward. Droplets of blood splashed to earth as he flew, mingling with the soil. He took her to the cave.

One of you needs to take care of the car. It must be destroyed, and then we must find the head of this organization
that
continues to hunt Desari and us. We cannot take any further chances with them, Julian. They must have a hideout nearby.

You
are injured. I will come to you and give you aid.

Do not leave the women until it is safe to do so.
Darius's voice held hard authority. He knew Julian was unlike the others. They were used to following his orders, while Julian had long been a loner, answering to no one except on the rare occasion when he had contact with his Prince or the Dark One, the healer of their people. Julian chose his own way always. He would likely ignore Darius and accede to Desari's wishes that he aid her brother. Darius let his breath out slowly, acknowledging that Julian would make his own decisions. I cannot protect them at this
time, and I am relying on you. As soon as the concert is over, put them somewhere safe, and all of you meet with me to ferret out this predator.

There was a small silence. You
are safe?

I am.
Darius was uncertain if he spoke the truth. He was not at full strength, and he had lost a great deal of blood. Ordinarily he would have instantly shut down his heart and lungs to preserve the precious fluid until his kindred came to provide for him. But he didn't have the time or luxury to do so now. Tempest was hurt.

Tempest stirred and moaned softly, raising a trembling hand to the gash on her head. "Ow." Her long lashes fluttered, rose, and she smiled at him. "I knew you would come, Darius, but I've got a hell of a headache."

He leaned over her and pressed a wet cloth to her head. "Close your eyes, honey and lie still so I can see what I can do about this."

"They wanted one of you to follow, didn't they?" she murmured, her lashes drooping. She felt sick.

"You have a slight concussion, Tempest." Darius knew his voice reflected his weariness. It was impossible for him to keep the pain at bay with his strength waning by the moment. Fortunately, she had not recovered enough to notice his wounds. He scooped up handfuls of rich soil, mixed it with his healing saliva, and packed the gaping holes in his body.

Darius sent himself seeking outside his own body and into hers. It was difficult to focus as completely as he must while his great strength and energy were draining away. He had tried to slow his heartbeat, to slow the loss of blood, hoping to give himself more time. He could feel her fear, the pounding and throbbing of the pain in her head. She had lost blood, but not the copious amounts head injuries often led to. She would not need a replacement.

He tested the bruising, meticulously worked at healing it inside her skull and then outside until the wound was closed. He took her headache away and retreated, slumping wearily onto the floor of the cave.

For a long while there was only the sound of their heartbeats. Tempest lay floating in a kind of a dream state. After some time she became aware of the differences in the rhythms of their hearts. They always beat the same when they were close to each other, yet now his heart seemed slow, almost stuttering. Tempest forcibly roused herself. She turned her head slowly toward Darius and, to her horror, found him slumped in an awkward position against a boulder, his skin drawn tight over his skull, his face gray and dotted with crimson beads of blood.

Gasping in alarm, she came to her knees, reaching for him. His shirt and trousers were soaked in blood. "My God, Darius!" she whispered, horrified.

There was no response. She reached for his wrist to check his pulse, found it thready and weak. Tempest knew immediately that he had seen to her needs before his own. He was unconscious. He had lost too much blood. She was afraid he was going to die. They were stuck deep within the earth. There was no way she could drag his body out of the cave and to help in time.

Tempest forced herself not to panic. He wasn't human. What could she do to revive him with what she had at hand? She had no way of contacting the others. The private mental path the family used only worked among them. She noticed the soil packed in his wounds. He had tried to stop the bleeding using the richness of the earth. Quickly she looked around, searching for the soil he'd said was filled with minerals and healing agents. She mixed a fresh pack and spread it over the wounds.