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Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

“Take my blood, Desari. It is freely offered to you and Darius. I hope that it provides both of you with strength and peace,” Syndil replied softly. She opened her wrist with one sharp nail and held it to Desari’s mouth. “For Darius, if not for yourself.”

Desari fed, then leaned down to her brother, whispering softly into his ear. “Take from me what is freely offered, brother, what you need. Take it for yourself and for all of us who depend so heavily on you. I offer up my life that you might live.”

“Desari!” Syndil protested sharply. “Darius might not know what he does. You cannot say things like that.”

“But it is true,” Desari said softly, stroking back her brother’s hair. “He is the greatest man I have ever known. I would do anything to save his life.” She pressed her opened wrist to her brother’s mouth. “What he has done for all of us, no other could have done. No other six-year-old could ever have saved us. It was a miracle, Syndil. He had no training, no one to guide him, yet he managed to keep us all alive. The life he gave us has been a good one. He deserves so much more than he has.”

“You must take more of my blood, Desari,” Syndil insisted softly. “You are so pale. Darius would be angry with you if he knew you did not feed properly. I insist, Desari. You must feed.” To force the issue, Syndil reopened her own vein with her teeth and pushed her wrist to Desari’s mouth. “Do as I say, little sister.” She gave the order in her firmest voice.

It was so unlike Syndil, Desari was startled into obeying her. Syndil had a gentle, soft-spoken, and loving nature. She rarely did wild, unpredictable things the way Desari did. Desari was forever getting reprimanded by her brother, not that it did him much good. She always found something new and different to try. Always amazed at the beauty of the world around her, she found everything exciting, people intriguing. She was not content, as Syndil was, to do as the men instructed.

It wasn’t as if she set out to defy Darius. She would never do that; no one would dare. She just ended up in trouble over lots of little things. For instance, Darius did not want Desari wandering off by herself, but she liked her privacy, and she enjoyed running in the forest, taking to the skies, swimming with fish. Life was bubbling over with so many opportunities for adventure, and Desari wanted to try everything. Darius, however, believed that vampires might be lurking anywhere, waiting to carry off the women, and he guarded them accordingly.

Desari closed the wound on Syndil’s wrist, careful to leave no mark, then very gently pulled her own arm away from her brother, closing the laceration with the healing agent in her saliva. “Do you think he looks a little better, Syndil?” Darius was in the deep sleep of their people, his heart and lungs already shut down.

“His color is not so gray,” Syndil agreed. “We must get him to ground, where he will have a chance to heal. Where did he send Barack and Dayan?”

“I do not know,” Desari admitted. “I was unconscious.”

“In any case, you need to go to ground to heal also. I will have to handle the inquiries with the police. I will tell them Darius spirited you and the band out of harm’s way, that all of you were injured but the attack on your life did not succeed.”

“They will want to know where we were treated,” Desari objected. She was very tired, and the uneasiness in her was growing. She felt restless and unhappy, near tears, something unheard of for her.

“I can plant memories as well as any of you,” Syndil said firmly. “I may prefer solitude, but I assure you, Desari, I am every bit as capable as you.”

Desari stroked back her brother’s long dark hair. The silken strands fell past his broad shoulders in a shiny fall reminiscent of her own. Darius always looked so harsh and implacable when he was awake, a hint of cruelty about his finely chiseled mouth. Yet all that was gone when he was asleep. He looked young and handsome, without the tremendous responsibilities he always shouldered when he was awake.

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Categories: Christine Feehan
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