Dark Challenge. Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 5

At the same time, a part of him was analyzing the Carpathian male his sister had chosen for her mate. Savage was remarkable in that he had known the extent of the threat to himself, yet he had put Desari’s health and safety before his own. He had even healed the wounded birds that had aided him in his battle with the ancient one, a great cost in time and energy, and he had wiped out all existence of the vampires and their kills to preserve the secrets of their race.

Then Darius discovered a shadowing deep within Julian’s body. He studied it a long time. The virus had not tainted him thusly; this was something else, something Darius had never seen. It made him uneasy. Julian, however, was extremely calm and accepting of Darius’s presence in his body, confident in his ability to heal. There was no doubt, no adrenaline to cope with, none of the body’s defenses raised against him as he worked. And Julian was aware he had discovered the dark shadow.

The ancient healing chant, soft and melodious, gave Darius added strength as his energy began to falter. The familiar voices were all present: Desari, her voice itself healing and soothing; Syndil, gentle and peaceful like her nature; Barack, strong and sure; Dayan, the ever present second in command ready to aid him should there be need. Only when he managed to wipe out the last mutating strain and manufacture the proper antibodies to hold it at bay did Darius allow himself to emerge back into his own body.

His great strength was nearly depleted. He had worked for over two hours, an extraordinary time to be out of his own body. He was swaying with weariness, his body crying out for sustenance, and he could feel the first stirrings of unease at the approach of the sunrise.

At once Dayan thrust his wrist toward their leader. “Take what is freely offered,” he said formally.

Desari touched her brother’s shoulder. “You are gray, Darius. Please feed.” She didn’t want to tell him his appearance was nearly as alarming as Julian’s. She was wringing her hands anxiously, afraid of touching Darius’s mind to know if he thought Julian would live, afraid of asking the question aloud.

I live, my beautiful one. Julian’s masculine voice brushed at her mind, enfolding her in warmth and comfort and a kind of exasperated amusement. I live to teach my lifemate the meaning of obedience. Your brother is as adept as Gregori, and that, my love, is the highest compliment I could pay him. He sounded weary and far away, as if the strain to reach her was weakening him even more.

“Julian,” she whispered aloud.

Darius swung his icy black gaze to her face in clear reprimand. With careful courtesy he closed the laceration on Dayan’s wrist and then bent his head to speak to Julian. “Hear me, lawless one. You are in no shape to oppose me. If you do not wish me to place you under compulsion, you will remain silent and conserve your strength to battle what is attempting to destroy both you and my sister.” There was a hard authority in his voice, complete conviction that he would do as he threatened if need be. Darius never repeated himself; he often didn’t even bother with a warning. He struck hard and fast. Those who knew him obeyed without question.

Julian lay as if dead, the action of his heart and lungs barely discernible, but incredibly, a faint grin eased the look of death on his face.

Darius glanced at his sister. “This one has no liking for authority. Go to ground, Desari, and stop making a nuisance of yourself.”

At once the air in the room thickened with oppressive shadows. A warning, a promise of retaliation. Desari found herself holding her breath. She couldn’t believe that anyone would defy Darius’s orders, least of all a man half-dead and still in need of help from the very one he threatened. Surely Julian knew Darius would never hurt her. He simply bossed her around because that was his way.

Darius struck at the Carpathian lying so still on the bed with a powerful compulsion to sleep. In his present state, Julian had no way to combat such power. He had one thought before he succumbed to Darius’s will: that this man was far more dangerous than any Julian had encountered in all his centuries of living, perhaps even more so than Gregori.