Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

Unfortunately, the shadow remained in Julian’s mind. He glanced at Darius, whose dark eyes were as cold as ice. Darius shook his head slightly to indicate the danger to Desari was not past. The two of them began to move in opposite directions, circling the huge theater, covering ground slowly, scanning as they did so. Something was not quite right. Both felt it. Dayan and Barack felt it, too. There faces were expressionless, but they stayed positioned protectively near Desari, and their eyes moved restlessly, unceasingly, all of them seeking the source of that shadow.

The Carpathians on stage continued to play, and Desari’s voice was more beautiful than ever, weaving such an enchantment on all within hearing that it was difficult for Julian to keep his attention fully on her protection.

Something malignant was infiltrating the building. It was such a soft, slow flow of tainted air it was barely discernible. Julian tried to find its direction. He had already scanned the crowd several times, and knew there was no real threat from that direction. It was something far more powerful. Nosferatu. The undead.

Desari and Syndil had to be the reason vampires were frequenting these parts even with Julian’s brother, Aidan, living so close by. Aidan was a hunter renowned for his skills, yet lately this area seemed to be overrun with the undead. Julian could see no reason for it other than the presence of the two Carpathian females. Few would be aware that Desari had been claimed, and to a vampire, it hardly mattered. The undead were so arrogant, so bloated with their own power, they were certain they could gain possession of any woman for themselves.

Julian’s gaze, a glint of glittering gold, shifted back to the stage. Barack suddenly stumbled on a note, his head going up alertly. At the same time, Julian felt the wash of hideous power pouring into the air around them, rushing toward the band’s dressing rooms. Automatically, he blurred himself, streaking through the concert hall, as did Darius. But it was Barack who beat them both to the room where the leopards waited. Behind them, as if by design, Dayan went into a lively melody, his voice and guitar accompanying Desari, so that the audience went wild, clapping and stomping their approval.

It took both Darius and Julian to restrain Barack before he burst through the closed door. He snarled at them, his fangs savage, eyes red hot with killing rage. It was Darius who spoke to him, using the family’s peculiar mental path that Julian was slowly becoming familiar with. The order was velvet soft, soothing, a promise of protection for Syndil. Barack took a calming breath and nodded his reluctant acquiescence, relaxing beneath the grip of the two hunters.

Julian dissolved immediately, flowing beneath the door into the room as tiny molecules in the air. The three leopards were pacing restlessly, low warning growls rumbling deep in their throats. He tried to touch their minds but found chaos and anger, the mood dangerous to any that might enter the room. Syndil had deliberately buried herself deep within the body of the leopard she had assumed to prevent the one who sought her from telling her apart from the other two real specimens. She paced along with them, every bit as moody and dangerous, raging in her mind at the evil threatening them. Even he could not tell which female was actually Syndil and which was the genuine leopard; he did not yet know her well enough to discern her spirit from where she had it buried so deeply within the spirit of the leopard.

Julian felt Darius’s power filling the room, knew the moment he reached to calm the prowling leopards. The vampire was close, too close, stalking Syndil, but the undead was projecting his whereabouts from all directions so neither Darius or Julian could get a firm fix on his location. They waited with the patience of ancient hunters, still, calm, simply waiting for the moment when the aggressor must make his move.

The impact slamming against the door was tremendous, a huge bulging spreading inward. The door itself blackened even as thunder shook the building. A part of Julian remained connected to Desari, determined to always ensure her safety. She was easily holding the audience, projecting calm, her voice soothing as she sang a haunting ballad, Dayan accompanying her on the guitar. Dayan and the security people were close around her, the human guards uncertain how Barack had disappeared from the stage. No one had quite caught his exit. Yet they stayed close to Desari, directed by Julian without their knowledge. Desari and Dayan were incredibly smooth, Desari now perched on a high stool in the middle of the stage, her long dress flowing around her in graceful folds. Dayan played the soft, mesmerizing music on his guitar while the beauty of Desari’s voice continued to fill the concert hall.