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Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

“I’m sorry, Darius.” Her voice was low, strangled, as if she was choking on her anguish. “They had families, mothers, wives. Brother and sisters. Children.”

“They would have killed you, honey. I could read the intent in their minds. Some of them thought they would enjoy you before giving you your death. They would kill my sister and destroy her chosen lifemate. I could not allow such an atrocity,” he said quietly.

“I know,” she agreed softly, “and I’m not blaming you for what had to be. I realize the position they put you in, but I still feel sadness for their families and the waste of their lives. Perhaps some of them felt they were doing the right thing. It doesn’t make it right, but they were living beings.”

Darius swept the thick mane of hair from the nape of her neck and bent to kiss her exposed skin. “You do not have to explain what I already know, my love. I dwell in you as you may do in me at any time you choose.” His hands rested briefly on her shoulders, the intensity of his love for her shaking him. It rose up, a flood of emotion that threatened to swamp him when there was still so much for him to do. He had to turn away from her before the need to crush her to him, to feel her skin against his, overcame him. He took a deep breath to steady himself and deliberately put distance between their bodies.

Tempest drove through the murky water as it continued to rise. Twice she crossed a paved road and found another dirt track. Once she came very close to a huge truck parked across the road, one of its occupants smoking a cigarette. She nibbled at her lower lip worriedly but got past the truck without incident. She glanced back at Darius, noting his coloring. He was gray and drawn, lines etched deeply in his face. The strain of masking with illusion an object as large as the bus was enormous. In his weakened state, he was actually trembling.

Tempest hastily averted her eyes, her heart pounding as if it might explode in her chest at any moment. The idea of anything happening to Darius was terrifying. She drove as fast as she dared over the unfamiliar terrain, feeling her way carefully, focusing her mind on the dangers the volume of water presented. At times she chose a path so narrow that the tree branches scraped the sides of the trailer with a screeching metallic sound she thought might haunt her for all time.

As the bridge loomed up in front of them, Tempest wiped at her face, hoping to wipe away the veil that was making it so difficult to see. Between the rain and the fog, she felt as if she were driving blind. She felt the bridge sway beneath the bus, and instinctively she let up on the gas pedal, nearly panicking.

At once Darius was there, his bare foot covering hers, pressing the accelerator so that the bus fishtailed before the tires found traction. “Keep going, baby,” he said softly.

He didn’t give her a choice, his foot firmly over hers. Tempest held on grimly to the steering wheel, her heart in her throat. Water was pouring over the structure, pushing at the bus hard enough that she had to fight to keep them on the bridge. The water wanted to lift the trailer and carry it into the swollen stream. She allowed herself to breathe only when the vehicle cleared the bridge. Then she pushed at Darius’s leg, making him let up on the gas. She was shaking so violently, her teeth were chattering.

“You are doing great, honey,” Darius whispered, his hand stroking a caress down her bright hair. “We are almost out of this.”

“Almost?” She turned her head to stare up at him. “There’s more? I’m getting so tired, Darius.” She felt silly telling him that when he was wounded and in more need of rest than she. “I think I’ve had enough adventure for one night.”

He ruffled her hair, affection in his touch. For a man part beast and all predator, he found he had a side he had never expected. Tempest made him go soft inside. “Hang in there, honey. We face one more barrier, and then we will reach the open road.”

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Categories: Christine Feehan
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