Dark Fire (12 page)

"Perhaps it would be easier on you if I removed your memories of what I am. I could do it properly, Tempest," he offered. He found himself reluctant to do so, however. Somehow he wanted her to accept him as he was.

She shook her head adamantly. "No. If you did something like that, I would never be able to trust anything you said or did."

"You wouldn't remember, and it would take away your unnecessary fears. It does not make sense to me that you should remain afraid of us when we regard you as family," he said reasonably.

"No, don't do that to me," she insisted.

For a moment his dangerously predatory eyes moved over her face, a red flame flickering in their depths, reminding her of a wolf, a relentless hunter. What did she know of him? Only that he was not human but "Carpathian," allegedly immortal. And that he believed he had a right to her. She knew little of the unusual powers and properties he'd mentioned, but she felt them radiate out of his every pore. She could be lulled into a false sense of security because he often treated her gently, even tenderly.

But Darius was first and foremost a predator, yet with all the cunning and intellect of a human. He was dark, mysterious, dangerous, powerful, and very, very sensual It was a formidable combination. Tempest nearly groaned aloud. How was she going to get out of this mess? His thumb was feathering over her knuckles, sending darts of fire racing through her bloodstream. Why did she have to be attracted to him? Especially if he was more beast than man? Was it because he was the first male who had ever treated her with such care? Was it because he was so utterly lonely and in need?

"Stop thinking so much, Tempest," he repeated softly a hint of laughter in his velvet voice. "You are making things seem worse than they are." He was becoming tempted to remove her memories despite her reluctance just to ease her fears, yet he was selfish enough to want her to know what he was and have the courage to stay with him anyway.

"Right," she groused, "like that could happen."

Darius enjoyed the way she fit beneath his shoulder He even enjoyed the way she defied him. He was aware that she had no idea of the power he wielded, the things he was capable of doing, but he felt fully alive with her The wind rushed over them, blowing her soft hair around her face. He heard the rustle in the trees as the leaves swayed to the music of the breeze. He found himself smiling for no reason, when it had been many centuries since he had smiled at all. He had forgotten the feeling of happiness. Here, in the trees, with the night upon them, the wind calling to him, wild and free, and Tempest tucked beneath his shoulder, he felt both happiness and a sense of belonging.

Rusti glanced up at Darius, a little overwhelmed that she was acting as if all was normal when she should have been running screaming into the sunset. His face was £ sensual work of art, carved with harsh yet beautiful lines If she had to describe him to someone else, she wasn't certain what she would say. He was power personified. Danger personified. And he was so incredibly sexy. Mesmerizingly so.

She closed her eyes. Well, that settled it, then. She couldn't look at him. She went up in flames every time she did. "Why couldn't you be a nice, ordinary man?"

"What is ordinary?" he asked, amused.

"You didn't have to have those eyes," she accused, flashing a glare at him. "Your eyes should be outlawed."

Warmth flowed into his heart, a curious, melting sensation. "So you like my eyes."

Her long lashes instantly veiled her expression. "I didn't say that. You're conceited, Darius-that's one of your biggest problems. You're arrogant and conceited. Why would I like your eyes?"

He laughed softly. "You like my eyes."

She refused to give him the satisfaction of agreeing. The campsite was just ahead through the trees, and she could hear the laughter of the others. Desari's musical voice was distinctive. It was soft and dreamy, even more mesmerizing than the others'. Tempest had noticed immediately the same hypnotic quality in Darius's voice.

"Everyone should stop following your orders, Darius," she scolded, her green eyes peeping up at him through long lashes. "It's the only possible way to save you. No one ever questions you."

"Perhaps because they trust me to know what is right," he said softly, gently.

She watched him inhale, dragging the night scents into his lungs, and knew instinctively that he was scanning the area, testing the campsite, ensuring to his satisfaction that it was safe. As they emerged through the thick stand of trees into the open, where the others waited, she felt the impact of several pairs of eyes or her. She stopped, her teeth sinking into her lower lip her heart somersaulting alarmingly. She hated being the center of attention.

Darius stepped in front of her, easily blocking her small body from sight. He bent close to her. "Go shower The others need to hunt this night before we leave. The cats can feed, then we will split up and meet at the next campsite. You will ride with me."

She wanted to argue with that, but more, she wanted to be away from the others, away from their inquisitive stares. Wordlessly, she turned around and hurried to the motor home. It felt like a sanctuary, as if it was already her home.

She took her time in the shower, enjoying the hot water cascading over her skin. It was difficult to close her mind to thoughts of Darius, but it was the only safe thing to do. She knew she wouldn't be able to stay long with him always around, but if she could hang in long enough to get across the country, maybe things would work out. And it was, after all, Desari who had hired her, putting her on a generous salary. Desari would give her the money the minute she asked for it; she could tell that Darius's sister was like that.

When she had gathered enough courage to quit hiding in the bus and face the group, the campsite appeared empty. A slight noise revised her first impression. Warily she made her way to the small red car. The man peering into the open hood was the one who had been driving the night before.

At the time she had barely glanced at him. Now studying him, she realized he was, typical of the other band members, incredibly handsome. He had long dark hair, a mischievous look around his dark eyes, and his mouth had a sultry, moody kind of sexiness. She could easily see that this Troubador must be a hit with females of every age on the tour.

He looked up and grinned at her. "So, we meet at last, Tempest Trine. I am Barack. I was beginning to feel left out. Darius, Desari, Julian, and Syndil all speak highly of you. I figured they must have told you I was the group's bad boy and that you were avoiding me as a result."

Tempest found herself smiling. How could she not? Her natural wariness dictated that she keep her distance from him, but his ready grin was contagious. "No one warned me, but I can see they should have."

He patted the car lovingly. "What did you do to make her purr like this?" There was genuine interest in his voice. "I turned on the engine, and she sounded so happy to see me."

"Don't you work on cars? You sure can drive them."

Barack shook his head. "I keep thinking I'll get around to studying it, but there are always so many things to get in the way."

"That's unusual," Tempest said before she could censor her words. "Normally a serious driver and auto enthusiast like you is interested in what's below the hood." She wanted to kick herself for the inane remark. Like Darius, Barack probably slept during the day and used other "powers" at night. She made herself look casually away. "Where are the cats? I haven't seen them in a while."

"Feeding. We have to hit the road tonight, so Darius is allowing them to hunt, as is their right." Barack ran his gaze appreciatively over the small redhead. She was different from other mortal females. He knew she was different, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly how.

But he could hear her heart beating strongly, the ebb and flow of blood in her veins. Hunger was ever present, gnawing at his insides. Like the others, he should have gone to the campground only a few miles away and fed, but checking out the newly tuned car had intrigued him.

"Come over here, Tempest." His voice was low and compelling. He smiled, a flash of white teeth. "Show me what you did to the engine." His hunger was growing as he listened to the rush of blood in her veins.

Rusti didn't like his smile now, didn't like the way he was watching her. She glanced around. "I have to pack my tools and things, get ready to leave. I can show you later."

Shock registered on his handsome face, complete amazement. It occurred to Rusti that no one had ever turned Barack down before. There must have been a hidden compulsion in his voice she had failed to respond to. More and more she realized she was in over her head. If Darius had been the only one she had to deal with, maybe she could have done so successfully-at least long enough to get her across country. But they were all like him. She began backing away.

Barack instantly looked contrite. "Hey, I didn't mean to frighten you. I am not like the one who attacked you. Desari hired you. That means you are under our protection. Seriously, do not fear me. I have never had any woman fear me."

Rusti forced herself to stand her ground and made herself smile. "I'm just a little nervous after yesterday. Once the others get back, I won't be so tense." But at the moment she felt as if she had stumbled into a nest of rattlesnakes.

"We are friends, Tempest. Come here. Show me what you have done to make this machine purr."

She could feel his mind reaching to calm hers, to compel her to do his bidding. Which was worse? Allowing him to use her for a food source or allowing him to realize she knew exactly what he was? Would he then kill her? She decided it might be dangerous to let him know he wasn't controlling her, so she made herself stumble toward him, fear and revulsion choking her. She didn't want this man touching her the way Darius did.

For a moment interest at that thought swirled enough through her mind to push down her fear. Why, if the notion of being used for food sickened her, did she find the way Darius bit into her neck blatantly erotic?

Okay. She had lost her mind totally, she decided. That was the only answer. She had to get out of this jam and find a way to run for it. Produce a suddenly sick aunt in need out of thin air.

She was close to Barack now, his body crowding hers. Her stomach churning, feeling close to tears, she tried to hold herself very still. He was murmuring something to her; she could hear the words buzzing in her mind, but they had no meaning. She wanted to push him away and run. She couldn't stand it; she couldn't. She tried to equate what he was about to do with a simple animal bite, but her stomach revolted, and involuntarily she arched her neck away from his hot breath.

Waves of distress nearly choked her as his fingers curled around her arm. He was enormously strong, quelling her struggles with a viselike grip. A small sound escaped, a note of terror. Inside her mind Tempest could hear herself screaming, though no sound emerged from her closed throat. She was in the middle of real nightmare with no way out.

Then, without warning, not even a rush of wind, a huge black panther hit Barack squarely in the chest, a full two hundred pounds of fury driving the man back and away from Tempest. Barack hit the side of the car hard, the air knocked from him, then landed on the ground on his back, the cat driving straight for his throat.

Vaguely aware of Desari, Julian, another man, and Syndil beginning to emerge from the trees but stopping, frozen in horror, Rusti sought to calm the wild cat. In its mind she found a red haze of killing fury, like nothing she had ever encountered. She ran forward, still trying to soothe it, whispering to it, commanding. Only when she was near Barack, a Barack who was not even struggling for his life, who instead lay submissively beneath those terrible teeth, did she comprehend that the cat was Darius. Shocked, she continued to approach the cat.

"Rusti, stay back!" Desari called out to her. She tried to move forward to help Barack, to stop Tempest, but Julian was restraining her, literally lifting her off her feet, his strong arms around her waist.

The terror on Desari's face, echoing in her voice, registered with Tempest, but even with her own heart pounding in alarm, she reached for Darius, past the fierce fury of the animal to find the man. She knew him. She wasn't exactly certain how, but she knew he was there, somewhere inside that killing rage.
Darius. It is over. Barack did nothing but frighten me. Come back to me. She kept her tone a soft, trusting plea, much like what she used
first with a frightened animal. Soothing, with a belief that it would respond. She somehow knew that Darius would not respond to any of the others and that if she didn't stop him, the cat could very well end Barack's life.

This had happened because of her. That knowledge, like his identity, came to her seemingly out of nowhere, but she was certain of it, and she felt a rush of wonder that anyone could have such a depth of feeling for her.
Please, Darius, for me
-
release Barack and come to me.

The panther snarled, exposing long, razor-sharp canines, but at least he wasn't sinking them into Barack's throat. The cat crouched low, vicious, its body frozen into utter stillness, only the tail twitching restlessly, angrily, back and forth. Barack lay under the cat, totally submissive, well aware of who had attacked him. The silence was filled only with his heavy breathing and the cat's snarling rage.

"Darius." Tempest was a heartbeat from the cat's teeth. Cautiously she laid a hand on the heavily muscled back. Her voice was soft, warm honey. "I'm all right. Look at me. He didn't hurt me. He really didn't."

A collective gasp went up, as much for her knowledge as for her courage. It was now obvious to all that she knew the identity of the great cat. Desari clenched Julian's hand in hers, suddenly afraid. No human could know of their existence and live. It placed them all in jeopardy. How did Tempest Trine know? Neither Darius nor Barack would have been so careless as to forget to expunge her memories. Yet how could they do such a thing as destroy the woman who had the courage to save one of their lives, as Tempest was clearly attempting to do?