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                            Dark Series ,
Book 6 
                        
Latest Release:
Latest Release Date: December 24, 2018
Original Release Date: August 14, 2001
Number of Pages: 390 pages
Publisher: Love Spell
Language: English
ISBN: 0505524473
 
 DARK FIRE
   DARK FIRE
                      - There is Always
 a Price to Pay
- 
                           
             
 Dark Series ,
 Book 6
 Latest Release:
 Latest Release Date: December 24, 2018
 Original Release Date: August 14, 2001
 Number of Pages: 390 pages
 Publisher: Love Spell
 Language: English
 ISBN: 0505524473
   
So Darius warned her when she accepted a position with his traveling troupe. And gazing mesmerized at the merciless slash of his mouth, the implacable resolve on his face, the soulless emptiness of his black eyes, Tempest was afraid to ask what it was.
She had always been different, apart from others. From the moment his arms closed around her, enveloping her in a sorcerer's spell, Darius seemed to understand her unique gifts. But did his kiss offer the love and belonging she sought, or a danger more potent than his own panthers?
Somewhere deep inside herself, Tempest realized she knew the answer. She had no choice but to accept the velvet stroke of his tongue, submit to the white-hot heat piercing her skin, welcome an erotic pleasure like no other. . .
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Excerpt: Chapter 1
She was crawling out from under the huge tour bus when he first caught sight of her. She was small, like a child. At first he was certain 
                she was a young teenager. She was dressed in baggy overalls, her 
                wealth of red-gold hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face 
                was grimy, smudged in several places with oil and dirt. She turned 
                slightly and he could see high firm breasts thrusting against 
                the bib of her overalls beneath a thin cotton top. Darius stared 
                at her entranced. Even in the night her hair gleamed like red 
                flames. It was the fact that he could tell her hair was red that 
                caught his attention. He had not seen colors in more centuries 
                than he could count. He had never disclosed the information to 
                his sister, nor had he discussed his total loss of emotion with 
                her. Through the long centuries, his younger sister, Desari, had 
                remained the same as she had always been, laughter came easily 
                to her. She was sweet and compassionate and everything good that 
                he was not.
              
It 
                    was rather shocking to him to have some little miniature of a 
                    woman in a pair of baggy overalls catch his attention. She had 
                    a sway to her hips when she walked that sent a deep need jolting 
                    him hard. He caught his breath, followed her from a short distance 
                    as she moved around the tour bus to disappear out of his sight.
                  
"You 
                    must be tired, Rusti, you have been working all day," Desari 
                    called out. Darius couldn't see her, but as always his sister's 
                    voice was a blend of musical notes, a symphony that would always 
                    turn heads. "You must grab some juice out of the fridge in 
                    the bus and relax for a few minutes. You cannot fix everything 
                    in one day."
                  
"Just 
                    another couple of hours and I'll have this one up and running," 
                    the little redhead answered back. She had a soft, husky voice 
                    that touched Darius in the very core of his being, sent blood 
                    surging hotly through his veins. He stood for a moment transfixed 
                    in shock by the unexpected and very unfamiliar sensation.
                  
"I 
                    insist, Rusti," Desari said gently. Darius knew that tone, 
                    the one that always insured she got her way. "Please, you 
                    have the job, it is obvious you are just what we need. Knock off 
                    for the night, will you? You make me feel like a slave driver 
                    just watching you."
                  
Darius 
                    sauntered slowly around the bus toward the small red-haired woman 
                    and his tall, elegant sister. Beside Desari's tall, slender beauty, 
                    the mechanic looked like a grimy child, yet he couldn't take his 
                    eyes from her. The stranger laughed, a soft husky blend in her 
                    throat that tightened his body to an aching heaviness. From the 
                    distance and angle where he stood, he could see her eyes, a brilliant 
                    green, large, heavily lashed with red-gold. Her face was a perfect 
                    oval, high cheekbones, and a wide, lush mouth just asking to be 
                    kissed.
                  
She 
                    disappeared again, walking beside his sister around the back of 
                    the broken down bus to the rear door. Darius simply stood there, 
                    frozen to the spot. The night was upon them, creatures stirring 
                    to life. He allowed his eyes to wander from spot to spot, noting 
                    each separate color. Vivid reds and yellows. Blues. He could see 
                    the silver in the bus with the clear black lettering on the sides. 
                    The little sports car was a bright fire engine red. Each of the 
                    trail bikes secured to the bus were yellow and blue. The leaves 
                    on the trees were vivid green and veined with darker hues.
                  
Darius 
                    inhaled sharply, drank in her scent so that he could always find 
                    her in a crowd, always be aware when she was close. Somehow she 
                    made him feel as if he wasn't so alone any more. It was insanity, 
                    of course, he hadn't even met her yet, but just knowing she was 
                    in the world made it a completely different place. Darius had 
                    never told his sister how bleak and empty his life was or how 
                    dangerous he had become. His gaze, when it had rested on the redhead, 
                    had been hot and possessive. Something fierce and primitive in 
                    him lifted its head and roared for release.
                  
Desari 
                    came striding around the bus alone. "Darius, I did not know 
                    you had risen. You are so secretive these days." Her large 
                    black eyes wandered over him speculatively. "What is it? 
                    You look..." she hesitated searching for the right word. Dangerous. The description shimmered in the air unsaid 
                    between them.
                  
He 
                    nodded toward the bus. "Who is she?"
                  
Desari 
                    shivered at his tone, rubbed her palms up and down her arms as 
                    if cold. "We discussed hiring a mechanic to go on the road 
                    with us. You gave your approval, Darius. You said that if we could 
                    find someone the cats would tolerate, you would permit it. Early 
                    this morning she wandered in. The cats were out with me and neither 
                    of them objected to her."
                  
"How 
                    is it she made it through our safeguards, the barrier that protects 
                    us during the days?" he inquired softly, a hint of menace 
                    in his gentle voice.
                  
"I 
                    honestly do not know, Darius. I scanned her mind for any hidden 
                    agendas and found none. Her brain patterns are very different 
                    from most humans. I could only detect her need for work. Honest 
                    work."
                  
"She 
                    is a mortal." He made it a statement, nonjudgmental, neither 
                    good or bad.
                  
"I 
                    know," Desari said defensively, well aware of the heavy oppressive 
                    weight in the air signaling her brother's censure. "But she 
                    has no family and she has indicated a need for a great deal of 
                    privacy. I do not think it will bother her if we are not around 
                    during the day. I told her because we work and travel mostly at 
                    night, we often sleep during the day. She said it suited her fine 
                    and we do really need her to keep the vehicles running properly. 
                    You know it is true. We can handle a human without much problem."
                  
"You 
                    sent her into the bus, Desari. If she is there, why are the cats 
                    not with you?" Darius asked, his heart suddenly in his throat.
                  
"Oh 
                    my God," Desari turned completely pale. "How could I 
                    make such a mistake?" Stricken, she ran towards the bus.
                  
Darius 
                    was there before her, jerking open the door and leaping in, crouching 
                    low, ready to fight the two leopards for the small body. He froze, 
                    motionless, his long black hair falling across his face. The small 
                    red-haired woman was lazily curled up on the couch with the two 
                    large panthers on either side of her. They dwarfed her in size. 
                    The cats were pushing against her hand seeking attention.
                  
Tempest 
                    Trine stood up quickly as the man leaped into the bus. He looked 
                    wild and dangerous, and smelled that way too. Everything about 
                    him screamed of danger and power. He was tall and sinewy like 
                    the cats, his long dark hair shaggy and untamed. His eyes, as 
                    black as night, were large and mesmerizing, as penetrating as 
                    the two panthers' stare. She felt her heart jump and her mouth 
                    went dry.
                  
"I'm 
                    sorry, Desari told me I could be in here," she offered appeasingly, 
                    trying to move away from the cats as they continually bumped against 
                    her legs, nuzzling and asking for attention. She pretended she 
                    didn't notice, although the cats were nearly knocking over her 
                    small frame with each push. They even attempted to lick her hand, 
                    which she avoided, knowing their rough tongues could take the 
                    skin right off of her.
                  
Desari 
                    shoved past her brother's large frame into the bus and stopped 
                    too, wide-eyed and shocked. "Thank God you are all right, 
                    Rusti. I never would have told you to come in here if I had remembered 
                    the cats were locked up."
                  
 'That is not something you should ever forget.' Darius 
                    delivered the reprimand in a soft whip of velvet straight into 
                    his sister's mind. Desari winced visibly but she made no protest, 
                    fully aware he was right.
                  
"They're 
                    very tame," Tempest ventured hesitantly, touching first one 
                    spotted head and then the other. The slight trembling betrayed 
                    her nervousness. 
                  
Darius 
                    straightened slowly to his full height. He looked so intimidating 
                    with his broad shoulders filling the space in the bus that Tempest 
                    actually stepped backward. His eyes bored straight into hers, 
                    his gaze holding her prisoner, searching her very soul. "No, 
                    they are not tame. They are wild animals and do not tolerate close 
                    contact with humans."
                  
"Really?" 
                    Mischief danced for just a moment in the depths of Tempest's green 
                    eyes. She shoved the biggest cat away. "I didn't realize. 
                    Sorry." She didn't sound it, she sounded like she was making 
                    fun of him.
                  
Darius 
                    knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that her life was tied to his 
                    for all eternity. He allowed burning desire for her to flare briefly 
                    in his eyes, was satisfied when she stepped back again. "They 
                    are not tame," he said again. "They would have torn 
                    apart anyone entering this bus. How is it you are able to be here 
                    safely?" He demanded an answer, his voice low and compelling, 
                    forcing the issue, obviously accustomed to instant obedience.
                  
Tempest's 
                    small white teeth scraped across her lower lip betraying her nervousness, 
                    but then her chin went up defiantly. "Look, if you don't 
                    want me here, it's no big deal. It's not like we signed a contract 
                    or anything. I'll get my tools and leave." She took a step 
                    forward toward the door but he was a solid wall blocking her way. 
                    She glanced behind her, judging the distance to the rear door, 
                    wondering if she could make it before he pounced. She was afraid 
                    if she ran, it would trigger his predatory instincts.
                  
"Darius," 
                    Desari objected gently, laying a placating hand on his arm.
                  
He 
                    didn't so much as turn his head, his black eyes remaining on Tempest's 
                    small face. "Leave us." It was a clear order directed 
                    at his sister, his voice soft and menacing. Even the cats grew 
                    uneasy pushing close to the red-haired woman protectively.
                  
Tempest's 
                    green eyes flashed like jewels, an indication she possessed the 
                    famous red-haired temper. Darius frightened her where no one else 
                    had ever accomplished such a thing. There was a stark possession 
                    in his eyes, a sensual cruelty around his well-cut mouth, an intensity 
                    burning in him she had never witnessed before. She watched her 
                    only ally desert her. Desari was reluctant, but she obeyed her 
                    brother. Without another word, she left the luxurious bus.
                  
"I 
                    asked you a question," he said very softly.
                  
His 
                    voice sent butterfly wings brushing at her stomach. It was a black 
                    velvet weapon, a sorcerer's tool, very powerful. It sent heat 
                    curling unexpectedly through her body. She felt the color creeping 
                    up her neck and into her face. "Does everyone do everything 
                    you say?"
                  
He 
                    waited, as still as a stalking leopard, his eyes unblinking, fixed 
                    on her face. She felt a strange compulsion to answer him, to reveal 
                    the truth. It beat at her head until she rubbed her temple in 
                    protest. Tempest sighed and shook her head. She even attempted 
                    a smile. "Look, I'm not certain who you are, but I think 
                    we've both made a mistake. I saw the ad and thought this would 
                    be something I'd like, traveling with your band around the country." 
                    She shrugged carelessly. "It doesn't matter, I can just as 
                    easily move on."
                  
Darius 
                    studied her little face. She was lying to him. She needed the 
                    job. She was hungry and too proud to say anything. She covered 
                    her desperation very well, but she needed work. Not once did her 
                    green eyes waver from his black stare. Her entire body shrieked 
                    of defiance.
                  
He 
                    moved then, gliding close to her so fast she didn't have a chance 
                    to run. He could hear her heart pound, hear the rush of blood, 
                    of life through her veins. His gaze rested on the pulse beating 
                    so frantically in her neck. "I think this job will suit you 
                    perfectly. What is your real name?"
                  
He 
                    was too close, too big, too intimidating and powerful. Up close 
                    she could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism 
                    he exuded. He wasn't touching her, but she felt the heat of his 
                    skin against hers all the same. She had an urge to run as fast 
                    and as far as she could.
                  
"Everyone 
                    calls me Rusti," she sounded defiant even to her own ears.
                  
He 
                    smiled an infuriatingly male taunt that told her he knew she was 
                    afraid of him. The smile did nothing to warm the black ice of 
                    his eyes. He bent his head slowly toward her. She could feel the 
                    warmth of his breath against her neck. Her skin tingled in anticipation. 
                    Every cell in her body went on alert, screamed a warning. "I 
                    asked you what your name is," he whispered into her pulse.
                  
Tempest 
                    took a deep breath, made herself remain perfectly still, unflinching. 
                    If they were playing a game of chess she was not going to make 
                    a wrong move. "Tempest. But everyone calls me Rusti."
                  
His 
                    white teeth flashed again. He looked like a hungry predator eyeing 
                    its prey. "Tempest. It suits you. I am Darius, I am the guardian 
                    of this troupe. What I say goes. Desari is my younger sister. 
                    Have you met the others?" He felt an unfamiliar rage rip 
                    through him at the thought of any of the other men around her. 
                    In that moment he knew she made him very, very dangerous, not 
                    only to mortals, but to his kind alike. In all of his centuries 
                    of existence, he had never experienced jealousy or any other emotion 
                    remotely like it. He had not known what rage felt like until that 
                    moment. It was sobering to realize just how much power this small 
                    human woman wielded. 
                  
Tempest 
                    shook her head. She edged away from his intensity, from the way 
                    he made her heart pound in alarm. The more she moved away from 
                    him, the further back into the bus she ended up. Without meaning 
                    to do it, she found herself looking frantically at the rear door 
                    for an escape. When she could see he was too close for her to 
                    escape, she glanced at the big cats. Tempest focused and aimed 
                    her thoughts, a talent she had had since birth, one she would 
                    never admit aloud.
                  
The 
                    smaller of the two leopards, the one with the lighter coat, moved 
                    between them, pressed against Darius, showed her teeth in a warning 
                    snarl. Darius reached down and laid a calming hand on the cat's 
                    head. Be still little friend. I would not harm this one. She 
                      seeks to leave us. I feel it in her mind. I cannot allow such 
                      a thing. You would not wish it either. 
                  
At 
                    once the cat moved to position itself in front of the door, blocking 
                    the rear so Tempest had no chance of escape. "Traitor," 
                    she hissed at the leopard under her breath, forgetting herself.
                  
Darius 
                    rubbed the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "You are an unusual 
                    woman. You can talk to the animals."
                  
She 
                    looked guilty, her eyes shifting away from him. Tempest ducked 
                    her head, pressed the back of her hand to her soft, trembling 
                    mouth. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about. If 
                    anyone's talking to animals, it's you. The cat's in front of the 
                    door. Not only everyone, but everything obeys you, don't they?"
                  
He 
                    nodded slowly. "Everyone in my domain and that includes you. 
                    You are not going to leave. We need you as much as you need us. 
                    Did Desari assign you a place to sleep?" He not only felt 
                    her hunger, but her fatigue. It beat at him, inside him, so that 
                    his every protective instinct roared to life.
                  
Tempest 
                    stared up at him, measuring her options. 
Somewhere 
                    deep inside herself, she knew he had taken away her choices. He 
                    would not allow her to leave. It was in merciless slash of his 
                    mouth, the implacable resolve on his face and in the soulless 
                    emptiness of his black eyes. She could pretend if she wanted to, 
                    leave it unspoken between them. Not challenge him. Power clung 
                    to him like a second skin. She had been in dangerous situations 
                    before, but his felt entirely different. She wanted to run
.and 
                    she wanted to stay.
                  
Darius 
                    reached out, tipped her chin up with two fingers so that he could 
                    stare directly into her vivid green eyes. That was all. Two fingers. 
                    It felt like he had put chains on her, bound them together in 
                    some inexplicable manner. She felt the impact of his gaze burning 
                    into her, branding her his.
                  
The 
                    tip of her tongue touched her full lower lip. Darius' body clenched, 
                    hot, hard, an urgent demand. "You are not going to run, Tempest. 
                    Do not think you can get away. You need the job, we need you with 
                    us. Just follow the rules."
                  
"Desari 
                    said I can use this bus to sleep in," she found herself answering. 
                    She didn't know what she was going to do. She was down to her 
                    last twenty dollars. She had been certain this was the perfect 
                    job for her. She was an excellent mechanic, she enjoyed traveling, 
                    she liked being alone and she loved animals. Something about the 
                    ad had jumped out at her, drawn her to this place, these people 
                    as if it was meant to be. It had been so strange, how certain 
                    she was, almost a compulsion she couldn't resist, using up every 
                    penny she had to find these people, so sure the job was meant 
                    for her. Desari made it plain that the band stayed asleep during 
                    the day and she would be completely on her own. She should have 
                    known it was too perfect. Without thinking she sighed softly.
                  
Darius' 
                    thumb feathered lightly over her delicate chin. He felt her tremble, 
                    but she stood her ground. "There is always a price to pay," 
                    he observed, as if reading her mind. His hand moved to the thick 
                    abundance of her hair, rubbed silky red-gold strands between his 
                    fingers as if he couldn't help himself.
                  
Tempest 
                    stood very, very still, like a small animal caught out in the 
                    open by a stalking panther. She knew he was very, very dangerous 
                    to her yet she could only stare up at him helplessly. He was doing 
                    something to her, mesmerizing her, hypnotizing her with his burning 
                    black eyes. She couldn't look away from him. She couldn't move. 
                    "How high is the price?" The words came out strangled 
                    and husky. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his no matter 
                    her much mind screamed at her to do so.
                  
His 
                    body moved close, closer even still, until his hard frame seemed 
                    to be imprinted on the softness of hers. He was everywhere, surrounding 
                    her, enveloping her so that she was a part of him. Tempest knew 
                    she should try to move, to break the sorcerer's spell he was weaving 
                    around her, but she couldn't find the strength. Then his arms 
                    closed around her, drew her into him and her heart turned over 
                    at the gentleness in a man of such power and enormous strength. 
                    He whispered something soft and soothing. Something compelling. 
                    The whisper of a sorcerer's seduction.
                  
                    Tempest closed her eyes, the world suddenly hazy and dreamlike. 
                    She felt as if she couldn't move, as if she didn't want to move. 
                    She waited almost breathlessly. His mouth touched her temple, 
                    feathered across her cheek to the corner of her lips, moved across 
                    her ear, breathing warmth, leaving little dancing flames wherever 
                    he touched. She felt torn in two. One part of her knew it was 
                    so perfect, so right, the other urged her to run as fast and as 
                    far as she could. His tongue stroked across her neck, a velvet 
                    rasping caress that curled her toes and sent heat pooling low. 
                    His fingers curved around her nape, drew her even closer. His 
                    tongue stroked a second time. White hot heat pierced her skin 
                    exactly over her frantically beating pulse. Pain sliced through 
                    her, gave way instantly to erotic pleasure.
                  
Tempest 
                    gasped, found some deep reservoir of self-preservation and squirmed, 
                    pushed at the heavy muscles of his chest. Darius shifted subtly, 
                    his arms tight and unyielding. Drowsiness slipped over her, a 
                    willingness to give him whatever he wanted. 
                  
She 
                    seemed two people. One stood locked helplessly in the dark embrace, 
                    the other looking on in shock and horror. Her body was in flames. 
                    Hot. Burning. Needing. Her mind accepted him and what he was doing. 
                    Taking her blood. Staking his claim on her. She knew that somehow, 
                    knew he was not trying to kill her. Knew he was not anything human.
                  
Her 
                    lashes swept down and her legs buckled. Darius slipped his arm 
                    under her knees and lifted her, cradling her against his chest 
                    as he fed. She was hot and sweet and unlike anything he had ever 
                    tasted. His body was on fire for her. He carried her to the couch, 
                    still feeding, savoring the essence of her, unable to stop himself 
                    from taking what was rightfully his. And she was his, he felt 
                    it, knew it, would accept nothing less.
                  
It 
                    was only when her head lolled back on her slender neck that he 
                    realized what was happening. Swearing eloquently to himself, Darius 
                    closed the wound with a sweep of his tongue and bent to check 
                    her pulse. He had taken far more blood than she could afford to 
                    give. And his body was an unrelenting savage demand. Tempest was 
                    a very small woman, and not of their race. She could not afford 
                    such a blood loss.
                  
It 
                    was forbidden. What he was doing was strictly forbidden. He was 
                    breaking every code, every law he knew. Every law he himself had 
                    taught to the others and demanded they follow. He couldn't stop 
                    himself. He had to have this woman. A mortal female could be used 
                    for sex, a simple pleasure of the body, if one could still feel 
                    such things. A mortal female could be used for sustenance, to 
                    feed upon. But not both, and never at the same time. It was taboo. 
                    Darius knew if she hadn't fainted from the blood loss, he would 
                    have taken her body with his. Not once, but again and again. And 
                    he would kill anyone who tried to stop him, who tried to take 
                    her from him.
                  
Had 
                    it happened then? Was he turning? The one thing every Carpathian 
                    male feared, was it happening to him? He didn't care. He only 
                    knew she was of the utmost importance, the only woman he had ever 
                    wanted in centuries of a lonely, barren existence. She made him 
                    feel. She made him see. She brought life and color into his bleak 
                    world and now that he had seen it, felt it, he would never go 
                    back to total emptiness.
                  
Cradling 
                    her on his lap, he started to tear a ragged wound in his wrist 
                    with his teeth. Something stopped him. It didn't seem right to 
                    feed her that way. With one hand he slowly opened his immaculate 
                    silk shirt, his body unexpectedly tightening even more in anticipation. 
                    One fingernail lengthened into a razor-sharp talon and traced 
                    a thin line across the heavy muscle of his chest. He pressed her 
                    mouth to the dripping wound. His blood was ancient and powerful 
                    and would replenish her quickly.
                  
At 
                    the same time he reached for her mind. In her unconscious state, 
                    it was relatively easy to take control, to command her to do his 
                    bidding, but he was astonished. Desari was right. Tempest's mind 
                    did not have the normal pattern of a human. It was more like the 
                    cunning intelligence of the leopards he often ran with. Not exactly 
                    the same, but definitely different than the normal human brain. 
                    It didn't matter, he easily controlled her, demanding that she 
                    drink to replenish what he had taken.
                  
Out 
                    of nowhere came an ancient chant. He found himself saying the 
                    ritual words, uncertain where they came from, knowing only that 
                    they must be said. He murmured them in the ancient tongue of his 
                    people first, then repeated them in English. Bending over her 
                    protectively, stroking caresses in her hair, he breathed the words 
                    softly into her ear. "I claim you as my lifemate. I belong 
                    to you, I offer my life for you. I give you my protection, my 
                    allegiance, my heart, my soul, and my body. I take into my keeping 
                    the same that is yours. Your life, happiness and welfare will 
                    be cherished and placed above my own for all time. You are my 
                    lifemate, bound to me for all eternity and always in my care." 
                    As he uttered the words, he felt a curious shifting in his body, 
                    a release of a terrible tension. He swore he felt the words weaving 
                    tiny threads between her soul and his, his heart and hers. She 
                    belonged to him. He belonged to her.
                  
It 
                    wasn't right. She was a mortal. He was Carpathian. She would grow 
                    old, he never would. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered to him 
                    except she was in his world beside him. It felt right to him. 
                    She fit with him somehow as if she had been fashioned only for 
                    him.
                  
Darius 
                    closed his eyes and held her to him, savoring the feel of her 
                    in his arms. He closed the wound himself, and laid her among the 
                    pillows. Very gently, almost reverently, he washed the dirt and 
                    grime from her face. 'You will not remember this when you awaken. 
                      You know only that you took this job and are now part of our crew. 
                      You know nothing of what I am or that we exchanged blood.' He reinforced the command with a hard push more than sufficient 
                    for a human.
                  
She 
                    looked so young in her sleep, her red-gold hair framing her small 
                    face. He touched her, his hand possessive, his black eyes burning 
                    fiercely. He turned to regard the large cats. You like her. 
                      She can speak to you, can she not?
                 
     He could feel their instant answer, emotional, not in words. It 
                    was more images rising of affection and trust. He nodded. She 
                      is mine and I will not give her up. Guard her well while we sleep 
                      until the next rising. 
                  
The 
                    two cats rubbed against the couch, tried to get as close to the 
                    woman as was possible. Darius touched her face once more, then 
                    turned and left the bus. He knew Desari would be waiting for him, 
                    her gentle doe-eyes would be accusing.
                  
She 
                    stood leaning against the front of the motor home, puzzled, her 
                    confusion showing on her beautiful face. The moment she saw him 
                    she looked anxiously at the bus. "What have you done?"
                  
"Stay 
                    out of this, Desari. You are my own blood, the one I love and 
                    treasure." He found he could say it honestly for the first 
                    time in centuries. He did feel love for his sister. It beat in 
                    him real and strong. The relief was tremendous. "But I will 
                    not tolerate your interference in this matter. She will stay with 
                    us. The others will not touch her."
                  
Desari's 
                    hand went to her throat, her face paled visibly. "Darius, 
                    what have you done?"
                  
"Do 
                    not think to defy me. I will take her far from here and leave 
                    you all to go your own way."
                  
Desari's 
                    soft mouth trembled. "We are under your protection, Darius. 
                    You have always led and we have followed you. I trust you and 
                    I trust your judgment. I know you would never hurt this girl."
                  
He 
                    studied his sister's face for a long moment. "No, you do 
                    not, Desari, and neither do I. I know only that without her, there 
                    will be blood and death to many before I am destroyed."
                  
He 
                    heard her swift intake of breath. "Is it that bad, Darius? 
                    Are you so close then?"
                  
"She 
                    is all that is standing between the destruction of mortals and 
                    immortals alike. The line is that fragile. Do not interfere, Desari. 
                    It is all the warning I am capable of giving you." There 
                    was a merciless implacable resolve she had never seen in him before. 
                  
Darius 
                    had always been their acknowledged leader. He was the strongest, 
                    the most cunning and the most powerful. He had the gift of healing. 
                    They relied on him for his wisdom and expertise. He had steered 
                    them through the long centuries without thought for himself. Desari 
                    could do no other than support him in this one thing asked. Not 
                    asked. Demanded. She knew Darius was not exaggerating, he never 
                    did. Everything he said, he meant. Darius would not know how to 
                    bluff.
                  
Slowly, 
                    reluctantly, Desari nodded her head. "You are my brother, 
                    Darius. I am with you always, whatever you choose to do." 
                    She turned as her lifemate shimmered into a solid state beside 
                    her. He took her breath away, the sight of his tall, heavily muscled 
                    frame, the striking, molten golden eyes that always reflected 
                    love back to her.
                  
Julian 
                    bent to brush Desari's temple with the warmth and comfort of his 
                    mouth. He had caught her distress through their psychic link and 
                    returned from hunting prey. When he turned his gaze on Darius 
                    his eyes were cold and merciless. Darius held that gaze with one 
                    of his own. Two territorial males measuring each other. Desari 
                    sighed softly. "You two promised."
                  
Instantly 
                    Julian leaned into her, his voice extraordinarily tender. "Is 
                    there a problem here?"
                  
Darius 
                    made a sound of disgust, a low rumbling growl deep in his throat. 
                    "Desari is my sister, I have always looked out for her welfare."
                  
For 
                    just a moment the golden eyes flickered over him, cold with menace, 
                    then Julian's white teeth gleamed in a semblance of a smile. "It 
                    is true, and I can do no other than be grateful to you." 
                  
Darius 
                    shook his head slightly. He was unused to tolerating the presence 
                    of any other male not of his family in close proximity. Saying 
                    he accepted his sister's new lifemate traveling with them was 
                    one thing, meaning it was quite another. Julian had been raised 
                    in the Carpathian Mountains in their native lands. He had been 
                    forced into a solitary existence, but he had had the benefit of 
                    years of training, of Carpathian adult protection and guidance 
                    during his fledgling years. Darius knew Julian was strong and 
                    protective, one of their most skilled hunters of the vampires. 
                    He knew Desari was safe with him, but he couldn't quite relinquish 
                    his own role as her protector. He had had far too many centuries 
                    of leadership, of learning the hard way, through experience. 
                  
Darius 
                    and five other Carpathian children had seen their parents murdered 
                    in the classic ritual vampire slayings. A stake through the heart, 
                    the beheading with garlic stuffed in the mouth. It had been a 
                    frightening, traumatic time for all of them. Turks had overrun 
                    the village while the sun was high in the sky, just as their parents 
                    were their most vulnerable. The Carpathians had tried to save 
                    the mortals, standing with them to fight the invasion despite 
                    the fact that the attack had come when the Carpathian people were 
                    at their weakest. There were far too many of the intruders and 
                    the sun too high. The Turks had massacred everyone before help 
                    could arrive.
                  
The 
                    marauding armies had herded the children, mortal and immortal 
                    alike, into a straw shack and set it on fire, burning the children 
                    alive. Darius had cloaked the presence of the children from the 
                    Turks, a feat unheard of at his age. He noticed a peasant woman 
                    who had managed to escape the bloodthirsty eyes of the soldiers. 
                    Before the marauding army could discover her, he had cloaked her 
                    presence and forced a compulsion on her. He quickly gathered the 
                    Carpathian children who were closest to him and embedded within 
                    the woman, a deep need to take them all with her. To save and 
                    protect them. Darius had a strong will and he was determined he 
                    would not give up those children with him to the cruelty of the 
                    Turks. The woman took them to her lover, a young man who owned 
                    a boat. Sailing in the open seas was rarely attempted as boats 
                    were precarious at best in that century. Tales of sea serpents 
                    and falling off the earth abounded but the Turks cruelty was a 
                    worse fate, so the crew took their vessel far from their usual 
                    route in an attempt to flee the steadily advancing army.
                  
The 
                    children had huddled together as far from the miserable crew as 
                    they could get, trying to stay out of sight. They were all terrified, 
                    all shocked at the deaths of their parents. Even his little sister, 
                    a mere infant was fully aware of what happened. Darius had kept 
                    them going, insisting they could make it if they stuck together. 
                    A terrible storm had come up, the crew washed overboard, the sea 
                    rising up to claim them as efficiently as the Turks had massacred 
                    the village. Darius had refused to yield his charges up to such 
                    a fate. Although such a young age, he already had an iron will. 
                    Holding the image of a bird in their minds, he forced the children 
                    as young as they were to shape-shift before the ship went down. 
                    He had flown, clutching Desari in his talons, leading them to 
                    the nearest body of land, the wilds of Africa.
                  
Darius 
                    had been six years old. His sister had been barely six months 
                    old. The other female child, Syndil, had been a year. There were 
                    three other boys, the oldest four years of age. The continent 
                    of Africa was wild and untamed, a primitive, frightening land. 
                    Darius was responsible for the safety and training of the other 
                    children. He learned to fight, to kill, to hunt. He learned how 
                    to be a complete authority. He took ultimate responsibility for 
                    his group. Carpathian children did not have extraordinary talents. 
                    They had to work, to learn from their parents and those that would 
                    teach them. Darius didn't allow those facts to stop his mission. 
                    It hadn't mattered to Darius that he was just a little boy. He 
                    would not lose the children. It was that simple to him.
                  
It 
                    had not been easy to keep the two girls alive. Often Carpathian 
                    children did not survive the first year of life. Darius had to 
                    figure out how to provide for them. He had to fight wild animals 
                    and natives. At first, he had waited, certain the other Carpathians 
                    would come and rescue them, but, as time passed, the memory of 
                    the Carpathian race faded. He took the few rules imprinted on 
                    him from birth, what he could remember of his talks with his parents, 
                    and he devised his own code of honor by which to live.
                    
                    The 
                    children became much closer than most families and friends. They 
                    were the only ones like themselves in their narrow world. The 
                    few of their kind they had encountered had already turned, becoming 
                    the undead, the vampires, feeding on the lives of those around 
                    them. It was always Darius who had taken the responsibility of 
                    hunting down and destroying the dreaded demons. His group was 
                    fiercely loyal to one another, fiercely protective of each other. 
                    And all of them followed Darius without question.
                    
                    His 
                    strength and will had taken them through centuries of learning, 
                    of adapting. He had given them some kind of life. It had been 
                    a shock to discover, a few short months ago that others of their 
                    kind, Carpathian and not vampire, still existed. Darius had been 
                    secretly afraid all males eventually had no other choice. He had 
                    lost all emotion centuries earlier, long before the other males 
                    in his family. He never spoke of it, always afraid the day would 
                    come when he would turn on his own loved ones. Already, one among 
                  them had done so.
Darius 
                    glided away from his sister and her lifemate, thinking of Savon. 
                    Savon had been the second oldest boy. They had been great friends. 
                    Darius had relied on him often to hunt and watch over the others. 
                    Savon had always been his second in command, the one he trusted 
                    to watch his back.
                    
                    He 
                    stopped for a moment beside a huge oak tree and leaned against 
                    the large trunk remembering that horrible day. A few months earlier 
                    he had found Savon crouched over Syndil. Her body had been a mass 
                    of bite marks and bruises. She was naked, blood and seed seeping 
                    between her legs. Her beautiful eyes been glazed glazed with shock. 
                    Savon had attacked Darius, going for his throat, ripping and tearing 
                    mortal wounds before Darius had time to realize his best friend 
                    had become what all the males feared most. The vampire. The undead. 
                    Savon had brutally raped and beaten Syndil and was trying to destroy 
              Darius.
Darius 
                    had no choice but to kill his friend and incinerate his body. 
                    He had learned the hard way how to destroy a vampire properly. 
                    They could rise again and again from the most mortal of wounds 
                    unless certain techniques were used. He had had no one to instruct 
                    him, only an eternity of mistakes to correct. Darius had lain 
                    for some time after that terrible battle, deep within the soil, 
                    healing himself.
                    
                    Syndil 
                    had been silent these last months, often taking the shape of a 
                    panther and staying with the cats, Sasha and Forest. He sighed. 
                    It was only now that he could feel the deep sorrow sweeping over 
                    him for Savon, his guilt and despair that he had been unable to 
                    see it coming and find a way to help his friend. After all, he 
                    was their leader, he was responsible. And Syndil. She was like 
                    a lost child, with such sadness, such wariness in her beautiful 
                    dark eyes. He had failed her most of all, failed to protect her 
                    from one of their own, thinking in his arrogance that his leadership, 
                    the unity among them would prevent the ultimate depravity one 
                    of their species could experience. He still could not look Syndil 
                    fully in the eyes.
                    
                    And 
                    now he was breaking his own laws. Had he made up those laws so 
                    they would have a code to live by? Had his father told him these 
                    things? Had they been imprinted on him before birth as many other 
                    things had been? Had he been better friends with Julian they might 
                    have shared information, but he had always learned for himself, 
                    a private person, answering to no one, accepting the consequences 
                    of his own actions and mistakes.
                    
                    Hunger 
                    bit at him and he knew he had no choice but to hunt. The campground 
                    they had chosen to stay in for a few days was deep within a state 
                    park, little used and, right at the moment, empty. The highway 
                    ran close by, but he had put out an invisible warning net, a sense 
                    of oppression and dread, that deterred those humans that thought 
                    of stopping. It wasn't particularly strong, just enough to make 
              mortals wary. It hadn't driven Tempest off.
He thought about that as he shape-shifted on the run, his body contorting, stretching. Muscles and sinew held the leopard's bones together in a loose, supple package. Most of the cat's body weight consisted of muscle, thick ropes and bands of it. Darius loped silently through the forest toward the more popular campsite situated near the lake.
People traveled great distances to the deep, clear lake. The leopard covered the distance quickly, scenting prey. It moved, circled to stay downwind and sank low in the bushes. Two men fished from the reed-covered shore, talking to each other in short bursts of speech.
Darius paid no attention to the words. In the body of the cat he slunk low to the ground. Carefully positioning each large paw, he crept stealthily forward. One of the men turned his head toward the sound of laughter coming from the campsite. Darius stopped, then began a stealthy freeze-frame slow motion. His prey turned his attention back toward the lake and, in absolute silence, the leopard resumed its forward motion. It edged ever closer, crouched low in a spring-loaded position, powerful muscles bunched and waiting.
Darius 
                    sent forth the call, enveloping the shorter of the two men, drawing 
                    his prey to him. The man's head went up, he turned toward the 
                    leopard waiting crouched in the brush. He dropped his fishing 
                    pole into the lake and began to walk forward, one foot in front 
                    of the other, eyes glazed.
                    
                    "Jack!" 
                    The other man grabbed the sinking pole, twisting around to stare 
                    after his friend.
                    
                    Darius 
                    froze him with a mind block and shape-shifted as the man came 
                    up to the cat. It was the only safe thing to do. He had found 
                    that the cat's hunting instincts made it dangerous to use its 
                    form to feed. The leopard used its sharp canines to pierce and 
                    kill its prey. It had taken several trial and error episodes on 
                    his part as a child to learn what was acceptable. As children 
                    they could not hunt. They had no choice but to use the leopards 
                    and their abilities. Natives had died. Darius accepted the responsibility 
                    of that. It was the only way he could keep the other children 
                    alive.
                    
                    He 
                    kept the other man calm and accepting with the ease of long practice, 
                    a method perfected long ago. He bent his head and drank his fill, 
                    careful not to take too much. He didn't want his prey sick and 
                    dizzy. Helping the first man to a sitting position in the brush, 
                    he summoned the other one to him.
                    
                    Filled, 
                    he slowly allowed his body to reshape. The cat snarled silently, 
                    its instinct to pull the carcasses into the limbs of the nearby 
                    trees. Darius fought the urge and padded on cushioned paws back 
                    toward the tour bus. They traveled together, modern day troubadours, 
                    going from city to city singing in local bars and taverns. Desari 
                    had a beautiful voice, haunting and mesmerizing. Dayan was a superb 
                    songwriter and his voice, too captured audiences and held them 
                    spellbound. It was an interesting life allowing them to travel 
                    from place to place without close scrutiny in the old days. No 
                    one would notice their differences. Now, with the world growing 
                    smaller, it was a much more difficult feat.
                    
                    Darius made his way back to the campsite and shape-shifted after 
                    he entered the bus equipped with every luxury. Tempest was in 
                    a deep sleep, due, he was certain, to the fact that he had been 
                    greedy in the taking of her blood. He should have tried to control 
                    himself, to deprive himself of the unexpected ecstasy of it.
                    
                    Just 
                    looking at her made his body ache, a relentless urgent demand 
                    he knew was not going to go away. They would have to learn to 
                    strike some sort of balance. Darius was well aware he was used 
                    to no opposition. Everyone always did as he bid without question. 
                    He could not expect a redheaded human woman to do the same. He 
                    tucked the blanket more closely around her and bent to brush his 
                    mouth against her forehead. His thumb brushed the softness of 
                    her skin, felt the answering jolt in his body.
                    
                    Darius 
                    directed a firm command to the leopards before stalking out. He 
                    wanted her safe at all times. The cats slept the day away as did 
                    Darius and his family. The leopards gave the troupe some semblance 
                    of protection, guarding the bus while they were deep within the 
              ground. He directed that protective instinct to include Tempest. 





 
 
 
 
