Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Darius caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. “I am sorry, Tempest. I never would have willingly exposed you to this side of our life. We are often hunted by mortals. Down through the centuries many of us have been massacred. I wish I could have spared you this.”

“I don’t wilt in the sun, Darius, or melt in the rain. I’m tough, you know. Now let me drive us out of here. You go to sleep. Real sleep. I know you can’t go into the ground, but you can sleep the way you’re supposed to and trust me to take care of you.” Her green eyes captured his black gaze and held it every bit as easily as he could do. “You do trust me, don’t you, Darius?”

He found himself smiling. In the midst of blood and death, pain and weariness, she made him smile. “With my very life, baby,” he responded, his voice velvet soft, brushing at her insides like the touch of his fingers. He cupped her chin in his palm. “I promise you, I will rest when I know we are safe.”

Resignation crept into her eyes. There was no point in arguing with Darius when he had made up his mind. “Tell me what to do.”

“You will have to drive the bus. The storm is coming to its peak. We must take advantage of it. The water will pour into the streams because the ground cannot hold it, so there will be flooding. We want to time getting across the bridge before the wall of water hits it. We cannot use the roads, as they are blocked,” he explained.

She bit down hard on her lower lip, but that was her only sign of apprehension. She squared her shoulders and turned resolutely to walk to the driver’s seat.

Darius caught her around her small waist and fastened his mouth to hers. He tasted her fear, her sweetness, her compassion. He tasted her love for him, growing inevitably with every moment they shared. He took his time, his kiss fiercely possessive, savoring the closeness with her. Reluctantly he lifted his head. “We should get going, honey.” His eyes darkened even more as he studied her slightly bemused expression. She was so beautiful to him. Color had swept into her face, and her lips were slightly parted, an invitation he couldn’t find it in himself to resist. He kissed her again, this time hard but brief.

Tempest seated herself behind the wheel of the bus. The rain was beating at the windshield, visibility at an all-time low. She glanced back at Darius, unsure of herself for a moment, but he was peering out the window, directing the violence of the storm. She read the certainty in him that she could do what he had asked of her. He believed in her absolutely.

“There’s a faint trail, Darius,” she called back to him. “It’s disappearing under water, but I think I can stay on it.” The bus moved sluggishly in the muddy track, rotted tree branches floating along in the water, bumping against the sides.

“Do not use the lights,” Darius warned softly.

“I need them. I can’t see that well in the dark,” she objected. “If the water’s too high, we’ll get stuck.”

“You can see. I see through your eyes. It is the human mind in you that refuses to rely on your own senses,” he corrected absently, as if his thoughts were elsewhere.

Tempest exhaled slowly. The moment she felt calm and in control, she moved the large vehicle carefully through the swirling water. Her mind played tricks on her; she thought she saw eddies of deep red blood in the dark stream. But the rain was beating down so hard, she could barely see. The windshield wipers had no hope of keeping up with the deluge pouring from the sky.

Tempest felt Darius standing behind her, the warmth of his body seeping into the cold of hers. He reached around her to frame her face with his palms, his fingertips brushing away her tears. “You weep for the death of those killers.” He made it a statement, neither good nor bad. He could feel the intensity of her sorrow beating at him.