Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

We are not children, Desari reminded him, taking her bow before the roaring crowd. And Barack was quite harsh with Syndil. He should be more gentle with her. She didn’t provoke the vampire’s attack on her. She smiled at the crowd, flashing the famous sexy grin that seemed to stop a few too many hearts for Julian’s peace of mind. Her arm gestured back gracefully toward the two male Carpathians onstage, including them in the standing ovation.

Several females in the front row screamed and waved at the two guitar players, one throwing herself against the ring of security guards, calling for Barack and tossing a pair of red silk panties in his direction. The underwear landed almost in Syndil’s lap. She picked them up gingerly by the tips of her thumb and forefinger, studied them for a moment, then, with absolutely no expression on her face, tossed them onto the neck of Barack’s guitar. To the audience, red panties seemed to fly straight up into the air at him. They roared with delight, coming to their feet once again.

Syndil rose with her casual grace and started off the stage. At once Barack moved, cutting off her retreat. To the audience it simply appeared as if he had stepped away from Dayan with his back to them, his hips swaying provocatively. Several girls screamed louder, trying to rush the stage. Barack played his guitar solo for several chords, the music swelling, cresting like a wave racing toward shore, then crashing onto the sand. The audience was electric with intensity, yet every Carpathian’s attention was on the scene taking place between the male and female.

Syndil glared at Barack, her body rigid with anger. Her eyes blazed at him. “You have no right to tell me what to do or where to go. As you pointed out earlier, you are not my brother. Darius is the leader, and he has not said that I must stay and watch you entertain these adoring women.” She waved a disdainful hand at the screaming row of girls.

“Do not push me this time, Syndil,” Barack warned softly, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. “I do not care what Darius has said or not said to you. You will not leave my sight until I know you are completely safe. In this matter you will obey me.”

For a moment Syndil faced him in silent rebellion. It was impossible to guess what she was going to decide to do.

“Please, Syndil,” Desari said softly, persuasively, “we have an audience. Do not give Barack any reason to go berserk on us.”

Syndil blinked once, her long lashes fanning her high cheekbones. Her large eyes moved over Barack with faint haughtiness. She swung her long hair over her shoulder and seated herself for the second set, her back to Barack. There was something regal about the way she held herself.

Barack finished his guitar solo, his body once more relaxed, but his eyes remained hard and watchful. Desari flashed a quick, relieved smile Julian’s way. Dayan’s guitar joined Barack’s and Desari’s voice soared into the air, bringing the spectators to their feet. Syndil began tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music. It was entirely involuntary, the first time she had responded to their music since the savage attack on her. She had always been musical, easily playing any instrument set before her, usually the keyboard and drums. The group had explained her absence to their fans by saying she had taken an extended vacation and would return soon.

Desari inwardly breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the first sign in a long while that Syndil might find a way to come back to them, to herself. Perhaps her love of music would bring her back. While her mind turned the matter over, her voice continued to keep the audience mesmerized. And it suddenly occurred to her that while she had had family close by all her life, Julian had been totally alone. To guard his brother in the best way he knew, to guard his people, he had been always alone.

Not anymore, Julian drawled, his voice a purring caress. As you are my responsibility now, I suppose I have no other choice but to help your brother protect and guide this pack of fools. What I should be doing is hauling your beautiful little butt out of here. The Carpathian Mountains are our homeland. It is where we all belong, not here among so many mortals. In truth he was beginning to like the feeling of belonging to a family, of belonging to Desari.