DARK DESTINY By Christine Feehan

“Of course you can do this. We’re only talking, Destiny. What’s the harm in talking? I was feeling a little lonely tonight and I knew I had to see you.” MaryAnn took a step toward the shadows that held Destiny, wanting to ease the terrible despair on that beautiful face. She had seen trauma many times, but those enormous aquamarine eyes were haunted beyond anything MaryAnn had ever known. Those eyes had seen things that should never have been seen. Monstrous things.

Destiny allowed her breath to leave her lungs in a little rush. “Do you know how many times I’ve watched you wield your magic on a woman in need? You have a gift for giving hope to someone who has stopped believing there is hope. If you think you owe me, you don’t. You’ve saved my life many times over; you just haven’t been aware of it. I listen to you often, and your words are the only thing in this world that make sense to me anymore.”

“I’m glad, then.” MaryAnn pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and drew them over her delicate hands to protect them from the biting cold. “You know, at times everyone feels alone and hopeless. Even I do. We all need friends. If you are uncomfortable coming to my home, perhaps we could get a drink at the Midnight Marathon. It’s always a bit noisy in there. Would it really be so terrible to come and have a cup of tea with me? It isn’t as if you’re committing to a long-term relationship.” There was an edge of humor to her voice, an invitation to join her in shared amusement.

“Tea? I haven’t had a cup of tea in years.” Destiny pressed a hand to her stomach. Her entire being wanted to bask in MaryAnn’s company, but her stomach rolled at the idea of forcing herself to appear normal. She could only imagine the disgust and horror in MaryAnn’s eyes if she learned the truth.

“Then I would say it’s time. Come home with me,” MaryAnn invited softly, obviously pleased.

The wind rushed over the steps toward the doors of the church, flinging up leaves and twigs. Above their heads the clouds began to spin dark threads. There was something more, something in the wind that tugged gently at their clothes and hair, while it rustled alarmingly in the trees and bushes. It was almost like a voice softly murmuring to them. Calling, whispering, just out of reach. MaryAnn strained to listen, turning her head this way and that to catch the sound.

Destiny leapt at her, her breath coming out in a slow hiss of warning. She caught MaryAnn’s thick jacket by the lapel, at the same time jerking the doors of the church open wider. She thrust MaryAnn in-side. “Listen to me.” Destiny stared directly into the other woman’s eyes. “You will not leave this church until morning. No matter what you hear or see, you will not leave this church.” She spoke the command firmly, burying in the other woman’s subconscious a compulsion to obey.

Destiny sensed the danger behind her and whirled, going low, attempting to jerk her shoulder out of harm’s way. She had spent precious seconds ensuring that MaryAnn was safe, and despite her incredible speed, long, razor-sharp nails ripped her arm open from shoulder to elbow. She was already moving, sweeping with her leg as she did so, scoring a solid hit.

From far away came the soft familiar voice that so often summoned her in an ancient tongue. Call me to you now! It was a command, nothing less, as if he had felt her physical pain and knew she was in danger.

Destiny firmly closed off her mind to everything but the coming battle. She focused completely, watching the undead with an unblinking, predatory stare. She was still, balanced on the balls of her feet, her breath moving evenly in and out of her lungs. Vampire. Creature of the night. Hideous monster. Mortal enemy.

Her assailant was tall and slender with gray-white skin and black hair. His teeth gleamed at her as he faced her. “Call the other woman to us.” The voice was low, musical, gentle, a subtle invitation.

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