Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Tempest’s gaze jumped to his. She caught his sorrow before he had time to conceal it. “Something happened to her like what happened to me.”

His fingers tightened around her neck. “But I did not get there in time to stop it-something I will regret for all eternity.”

She blinked and looked away from him quickly. He had said “for all eternity.” Not “until I die” or any of the other expressions a human might use. Oh, Lord. She didn’t want him to guess that her memory of what he had done to her hadn’t been erased, as he’d wished. But what if he intended doing it again, and this time it worked?

A knock on the door had Tempest jerking around, her heart pounding. Darius rose gracefully, fully aware of Syndil’s presence outside the mobile home. He moved with fluid grace toward the door.

Tempest couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He was incredibly graceful and supple, sinewy muscles rippling beneath his silk shirt. He walked silently, like one of his great cats.

“Darius.” Syndil refused to meet his eyes. She was staring at her shoes. “I heard what happened and thought perhaps I could help in some small way.” She handed him Tempest’s toolbox and backpack. “Perhaps you would allow me to see her for a moment?”

“Of course, Syndil. Thank you for your concern. I appreciate any aid you can render.” Darius stepped back to allow her entry. He didn’t allow the hope for her recovery to flare even for an instant in his eyes. He followed the woman he regarded as another younger sister to the table. “Tempest, this is Syndil. She would like to speak with you if you are feeling up to it. I will clean the kitchen. The two of you will be more comfortable in the sleeping quarters.”

Tempest managed a small smile. “That’s his nice way of ordering us out of here. Everyone calls me Rusti,” she told Syndil, oddly without shame before this other wounded woman.

As she slipped past Darius, he reached out to catch her hair and give a small tug. “Not everyone, honey.”

She sent him a quelling glance over her shoulder, forgetting for a moment her swollen eye and bruised mouth. “Everyone else” she corrected.

Darius allowed her hair to slide through his fingers, savoring the contact with her, however slight it was.

Tempest walked carefully, not wanting to jar her bruised ribs. Syndil gestured to the couch, and Tempest sank into the soft cushions. Syndil examined her face. “Did you allow Darius to heal you?” she inquired.

Her voice was beautiful, satin soft, haunting and mysterious. Tempest knew immediately that she, too, was a creature like Darius. It was in her voice and eyes. But as hard as she tried, she could detect no evil in Syndil, just a quiet sadness.

“Is Darius a doctor?” she asked.

“Not exactly, but he is talented at healing others.” She looked down at her hands. “I did not allow him to help me, and that hurt both of us more than I can say. Be stronger than I was. Allow him to do this for you.”

“Darius arrived before I was raped,” Tempest said bluntly.

Syndil’s beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I am so glad. When Desari told me you had been attacked, I thought…” She shook her head. “I am so glad.” She touched a swollen bruise with a gentle fingertip. “But the man hurt you. He hit you.”

“It’s far worse to be hurt on the inside,” Tempest said, pulling the throw pillows around her as if fashioning them into walls to keep her safe.

* * *

Chapter Three

Syndil stared at Tempest for a long moment. Then her breath escaped in a long, slow hiss. She sat down and leaned forward to try to read Tempest’s expression. “It happened to you. Not this time, but sometime in your past. You know what it is like. The fear. The revulsion.” Her eyes sparkled like black ice, like crushed jewels. “I scrubbed myself for three and half hours, and months later I still do not feel clean.” She ran her hands up and down her arms, anguish reflected in her enormous eyes.