Dark Fire (34 page)

Sasha suddenly turned her head to the left, curling her lips in a snarl of warning, then freezing into stillness. Tempest dropped flat, eyes searching the area to her left. A man loomed up, his head turned away from her, a gun cradled in his arms, another strapped to his shoulder. He was dressed in dark clothing, his face smeared with black stripes. He looked like a gorilla coming out of the gathering mist.

While the night had been clear, fog was now rolling in fast, gathering into a white, eerie vapor on the forest floor. Tempest lay against the injured panther, shaking with fear, weak from lack of food, and already exhausted. Even the gun felt heavy in her hands. It seemed an impossible task to get the leopard back to the comparative safety of the bus.

The man disappeared into the trees, the fog surrounding him. Tempest got to her feet, her knees rubbery, her mouth dry. Sasha crept forward with Tempest's help. They inched their way over the ground-a slow, painstaking process that seemed never-ending. The heavy fog was their only protection once they emerged from the forested area to the campsite itself. Tempest sent up a silent prayer that the thick vapor would prevent their presence from being detected.

Darius felt the disturbance ahead. He had made his way through the line of intruders, the male leopard coming from the opposite side to meet him at the campsite. Twice Darius had used the heavy fog to wrap a sniper in its deadly grip, choking the life out of the intruder. He had left behind no living enemy and knew Forest had done the same. The numbers against them had been significantly reduced, Sasha accounting for two before she was shot.

Darius was very much aware of where Tempest was at every moment and what she was doing. He had made no attempt to stop her from reaching the cat because he would have had to force her compliance. All the same, he was terrified for her, and the fear was nearly paralyzing him. He sensed the man rushing out of the fog at her, his gun pointed at her head. Sasha tried to throw herself over Tempest, protecting her at Darius's command, even as he took control of the weapon, using his mind and the eyes of the female leopard to force the barrel back around toward the killer.

The man screamed horribly as the gun he was holding, seemingly of its own volition, turned slowly, inexorably, toward his own heart. Even as he tried to tell his brain to stop, he felt his own finger tighten on the trigger. Darius had been moving with preternatural speed and arrived on scene just as the man fell. He leapt toward Tempest, slamming her into the earth. A bullet caught him high in the back of his shoulder, burning and tearing through his body, stealing his breath.

Darius wanted to lie there a moment and rest, but the man who had succeeded in shooting him was moving in for the kill. Putting aside pain, he focused his will on the enemy. Already, however, he was directing the male leopard, stirring up the wind, and creating the dense fog, and he was weary now, his great strength draining, along with his life's blood, onto the ground.

Still, he rose up like an apparition, his body contorting, his face lengthening into a long muzzle, fangs exploding into his mouth as the wolf surged forward and tore into the oncoming wall of a man's chest. The enemy was so frozen with terror at the sight of something half man and half wolf, he could only gape in horror.

Tempest had hit the ground so hard, it knocked the wind out of her. For a moment she could only lie there, trying to collect her scattered wits. She wasn't even certain who had tackled her. It was Sasha who prodded her into action, with her mewling, painful cries, the harsh images of torn flesh. Tempest rolled over to see Darius drop a body onto the ground. She cried out a warning, and he instantly turned and met a huge attacker rushing him with a machete.

He caught the man's raised arm with his casual strength and stared at him a moment, his eyes holding the other captive. Slowly he bent his head and drank, needing to replace his own loss, needing the nourishment and power of adrenaline-laced blood. The rush hit him hard in his weakened state, and he drank voraciously.

Darius!
Tempest whispered to him urgently. Something in her knew she had to stop him. She didn't understand why; she knew he had killed, but not this way, never this way.
Darius, I need you now.

The soft, beautiful voice penetrated his mind, subduing the raging, beast, appeasing the wild hunger for death and blood. He forced his teeth away from his prey and dropped the man into the dirt while he still lived. Without looking into the woods, he sent his message to the male leopard. The man must be destroyed, leaving no witnesses to what had happened here. It was necessary to the survival of his race.

"I will carry Sasha," Darius said gruffly, the beast still strong in him, red flames flickering ferociously in his eyes.

Tempest gasped when she saw the blood, inky black in the darkness, running down Darius's back. "Go. I'll cover you."

"They are coming in from the left," he said, pushing her ahead of him, bending to lift the huge cat.

She stepped behind him and laid down a covering spray of automatic fire, the bullets zinging viciously, giving him time to get Sasha into the bus. Tempest was backing toward him when he caught her in his arms, taking the weapon out of her hands.

Darius was well aware that she wasn't shooting at anyone, only keeping them away. Tempest did not have one killer instinct in her body. Courage, loyalty, yes-she would never leave him or the cats, and she would do her best to protect them, but she would have a difficult time actually killing another human being.

Ruthlessly he took the decision out of her hands. "See to Sasha. Use the herbs in the closet. She will allow it." He literally tossed her into the bus, turning away before she had time to protest.

At once it began to rain. Not lightly, but sheets and sheets pouring from the sky, drenching the forest and campsite, as if the heavens had opened up and dumped an entire ocean on them. Tempest concentrated on her task. Sasha was flicking her tail back and forth in agitation, a low, menacing rumble coming from her throat.

Darius protected the bus, shielding it from the hidden hunters who had now become his prey. His form, real and solid, shimmered in the driving rain briefly, then simply evaporated. In the silver sheen of the downpour, blood-red drops occasionally splashed to the ground.

The wind rose to a frantic pitch, screaming through the trees, as sharp as any knife. The male leopard was a whirling blur of savage fangs and claws, an instrument of revenge. For a brief moment the forest was alive with moans and cries and the horror and stench of death. When at last it was over, only the sound of the wind and rain remained.

Darius knelt for a moment in the rain, weary, wounded, revulsion for the necessity of this deed welling up in him. He bowed his head while the water began to flow in small streams around him. The bodies looked as though they had been attacked by wild animals, yet if they were studied, there would be a roar of interest heard halfway around the world. He could not allow that.

He spent considerable time arranging the area in a way humans would accept without too many questions. A battle had broken out between fanatical factions of weekend warriors, and they had killed each other, their bodies then disturbed by a multitude of scavenging animals. He took great care to remove any traces of his family's presence from the area. They couldn't afford to leave even tire marks in the campsite. The accumulating water would take care of that for him. He could hide the bus, blurring it from prying eyes until they were on a main highway.

Exhausted, he finally called in Forest, and man and cat made their way back to the bus together. Sasha was lying quietly, and the big male leopard went to her side and touched her several times, examining the wound, stitches, and wrapping. Tempest turned to look at Darius, her heart in her eyes. He felt he had come home, the weariness dropping away, the stench of death replaced by her welcoming light.

"You're bleeding," she said softly.

"I will live," he answered. Ordinarily his kind shut down heart and lungs to preserve their blood, but Tempest and he were not safe yet. They still had to run the gauntlet of trucks blocking every road to the highway, and Darius knew others would be in those trucks waiting for them.

"Tell me what you need," she said, aware that his body healed differently than hers.

"The herbs and soil I need are in the cupboard above the couch."

He sounded tired, and that frightened her. She looked away, careful to avoid allowing tears into her eyes. The sight of Darius, soaking wet, weary, streaked in blood and mud, his black hair plastered to his head, nearly broke her heart.

She worked on him quickly. It was easier than she had envisioned, as the bullet had exited his body and he had started sealing off the wounds from the inside out. But it required tremendous energy on his part to heal his insides without benefit of the earth and rejuvenating sleep. Tempest packed his wound with the mixture of his healing saliva, soil, and herbs. It was strange to follow his directions to mix dirt with his saliva, but she accepted his explanation that Carpathians were of the earth and took advantage of its healing properties. Her hand caressed his neck, her fingertips conveying her growing love when she still could not voice it to him.

Darius caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. "I am sorry, Tempest. I never would have willingly exposed you to this side of our life. We are often hunted by mortals. Down through the centuries many of us have been massacred. I wish I could have spared you this."

"I don't wilt in the sun, Darius, or melt in the rain. I'm tough, you know. Now let me drive us out of here. You go to sleep. Real sleep. I know you can't go into the ground, but you can sleep the way you're supposed to and trust me to take care of you." Her green eyes captured his black gaze and held it every bit as easily as he could do. "You do trust me, don't you, Darius?"

He found himself smiling. In the midst of blood and death, pain and weariness, she made him smile. "With my very life, baby," he responded, his voice velvet soft, brushing at her insides like the touch of his fingers. He cupped her chin in his palm. "I promise you, I will rest when I know we are safe."

Resignation crept into her eyes. There was no point in arguing with Darius when he had made up his mind. "Tell me what to do."

"You will have to drive the bus. The storm is coming to its peak. We must take advantage of it. The water will pour into the streams because the ground cannot hold it, so there will be flooding. We want to time getting across the bridge before the wall of water hits it. We cannot use the roads, as they are blocked," he explained.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, but that was her only sign of apprehension. She squared her shoulders and turned resolutely to walk to the driver's seat.

Darius caught her around her small waist and fastened his mouth to hers. He tasted her fear, her sweetness, her compassion. He tasted her love for him, growing inevitably with every moment they shared. He took his time, his kiss fiercely possessive, savoring the closeness with her. Reluctantly he lifted his head. "We should get going, honey." His eyes darkened even more as he studied her slightly bemused expression. She was so beautiful to him. Color had swept into her face, and her lips were slightly parted, an invitation he couldn't find it in himself to resist. He kissed her again, this time hard but brief.

Tempest seated herself behind the wheel of the bus. The rain was beating at the windshield, visibility at an all-time low. She glanced back at Darius, unsure of herself for a moment, but he was peering out the window, directing the violence of the storm. She read the certainty in him that she could do what he had asked of her. He believed in her absolutely.

"There's a faint trail, Darius," she called back to him. "It's disappearing under water, but I think I can stay on it." The bus moved sluggishly in the muddy track, rotted tree branches floating along in the water, bumping against the sides.

"Do not use the lights," Darius warned softly.

"I need them. I can't see that well in the dark," she objected. "If the water's too high, we'll get stuck."

"You can see. I see through your eyes. It is the human mind in you that refuses to rely on your own senses," he corrected absently, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Tempest exhaled slowly. The moment she felt calm and in control, she moved the large vehicle carefully through the swirling water. Her mind played tricks on her; she thought she saw eddies of deep red blood in the dark stream. But the rain was beating down so hard, she could barely see. The windshield wipers had no hope of keeping up with the deluge pouring from the sky.

Tempest felt Darius standing behind her, the warmth of his body seeping into the cold of hers. He reached around her to frame her face with his palms, his fingertips brushing away her tears. "You weep for the death of those killers." He made it a statement, neither good nor bad. He could feel the intensity of her sorrow beating at him.

"I'm sorry, Darius." Her voice was low, strangled, as if she was choking on her anguish. "They had families, mothers, wives. Brother and sisters. Children."

"They would have killed you, honey. I could read the intent in their minds. Some of them thought they would enjoy you before giving you your death. They would kill
my
sister and destroy her chosen lifemate. I could not allow such an atrocity," he said quietly.

"I know," she agreed softly, "and I'm not blaming you for what had to be. I realize the position they put you in, but I still feel sadness for their families and the waste of their lives. Perhaps some of them felt they were doing the right thing. It doesn't make it right, but they were living beings."

Darius swept the thick mane of hair from the nape of her neck and bent to kiss her exposed skin. "You do not have to explain what I already know, my love. I dwell in you as you may do in me at any time you choose." His hands rested briefly on her shoulders, the intensity of his love for her shaking him. It rose up, a flood of emotion that threatened to swamp him when there was still so much for him to do. He had to turn away from her before the need to crush her to him, to feel her skin against his, overcame him. He took a deep breath to steady himself and deliberately put distance between their bodies.