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DARK DESTINY By Christine Feehan

She lifted her chin proudly. “That’s me. Your anchor. What happens to you if I can’t be what you need?”

“Destiny, this is not necessary. You are everything I need. Everything I want.”

“Answer me, Nicolae. What happens to you?” Her voice was very soft but very steady. Her gaze never wavered.

A flicker of pain crossed his face before his expression settled once more into a stoic mask. “I am a Carpathian male, an ancient hunter very close to my time. If I am not bound to my lifemate, I must either seek the dawn or turn vampire. My choice is clear.”

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes briefly in reaction. “Is there no other lifemate for you? There must be another.”

Nicolae shook his head. “There is only one. You are the other half of my soul.”

Destiny swung away from him, dissolving into a fine mist, streaming under the door and down the hallway into the night air. She rose fast, climbing high until she was well over the city, screaming in her mind so the shock waves wouldn’t distress the people below her. Did you know all along that I was your lifemate? It was an accusation, nothing less.

No! If I had known, I would have told you. Come back to me, Destiny. You must feed soon. You need me.

He was right. Her strength was waning quickly. She hadn’t fed in several risings, and lending her strength to Nicolae as he healed the priest had drained her of what little she had left. She landed, regaining her natural form. She knew exactly where to go to find what she needed. And it wasn’t Nicolae.

Destiny was furious. Her entire life had been disrupted again. The world seemed to be spinning out of control. As she stalked down the narrow street, her fingers curled into fists and her lips pressed together tightly. She was looking for a fight. Any fight. A good old-fashioned fight would do. Where were all the criminals in the city? Had they all gone to bed early? Where was a vampire when you needed one?

Destiny sought out every back alley she could think of, stalking the streets trying desperately to look like a victim. A poor, lonesome girl caught out all alone in the dark. Her eyes glittered dangerously as she glared into the night, looking for anyone to attack her.

She huffed out her breath in a rush of indignation. She was strolling down a dirty street where it was known a person could be stabbed for a pair of shoes, yet not a single person tried anything. The buildings loomed up on either side of her, great ugly examples of crumbling neglect. Graffiti was thick on the walls, along with other things she preferred not to identify. Stairwells and alcoves abounded, perfect hiding places for someone with larceny on his mind. Destiny was certain she was the perfect target. A woman alone, defenseless. There were no streetlights to illuminate any crime. It was the perfect opportunity for mayhem, and no one was taking her up on the invitation. She was totally disgusted with the criminals in the city.

It seemed an eternity before she spotted three men leaning against a wall, watching her progress and murmuring softly to one another. She could hear them clearly discussing ideas on how to pass the rest of the night with her. Their conversation brightened her spirits considerably. At last, a chance to take out her frustration and aggression. Deliberately she slowed her pace, giving them plenty of time to make up their minds. She had stayed away from the neighborhood for three risings and she had not fed. Hunger was a living, breathing entity crawling through her body with a relentless demand. The pull of the neighborhood was incredibly strong. MaryAnn’s gentle voice, the church, Velda and Inez. She shied away from thinking the word home. She had no home. She was a nomad. A loner. Why wouldn’t Nicolae get out of her head?

She had no reason to worry about him or feel guilty. Nicolae probably was making the entire thing up. Except she’d never caught him in a lie. She’d spent a lifetime looking for his lies to prove to herself he was a vampire. She glanced briefly at the men, then down at the ground, continuing her steady pace. She needed physical action.

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Categories: Christine Feehan
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