Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

“I have a very good aim,” she warned him. “It would be easier on you if you just quit giving me orders.”

“That would ruin my reputation,” he objected.

A smile curved the corners of her mouth, emphasizing the thin red cut at the side of her lip.

Darius resisted the impulse to lean down and find that small cut with his tongue. “Go to sleep, baby. I am going to do my best to take away some of your soreness. Before you fall asleep on me, I made you an herbal concoction that will help you rest better.”

“Why do I feel as if you’re taking over my lifer

“Do not worry, Tempest. I am very good at managing lives.”

She could hear the laughter in his voice, and an answering smile found its way to her mouth. “Go away, Darius. I’m too tired to argue with you.” She settled deeper into the pillows.

“You are not supposed to argue with me.” He focused on the glass on the counter in the kitchen. It floated from there to his palm easily. “Sit up, honey. You have to drink this whether you want to or not.” He slipped his arm behind her back and lifted her so that he could press the glass to her lips.

“What does it taste like?” she asked, suspicious.

“Drink it, baby,” he instructed.

She sighed softly. “What’s in it?”

“Drink, Tempest, and stop giving me your sass,” he ordered, practically tipping the contents down her throat.

She coughed and sputtered but managed to get most of the herbal mixture down. “I hope there were no drugs in that.”

“No, it is all natural. It will make you sleep easier. Close your eyes again.” He placed her back among the pillows.

“Darius?” She said his name softly, drowsily, and it seeped into his soul and tightened his body to an urgent ache.

He reached above her head to the shelf of candles his family made, searching forests and marshes for the ingredients that would produce the aromas they needed. “What, honey?”

“Thank you for coming after me. I don’t know if I could have gone through it again.” She was so tired, the words slipped out, revealing far more than she would have willingly disclosed.

“You are very welcome, Tempest,” he acknowledged seriously. Darius gathered a few candles, and turned off all lights, plunging the motor home into darkness.

A small cry of alarm escaped Rusti’s throat. “Turn on the lights. I don’t want them off.”

“I am lighting candles for you, and you are not alone, honey. No one can hurt you here. Just relax, and let that drink take effect. You will fall asleep, and I will do what I can to ensure that you wake up without so much pain. If you like, I can bring the cats in to keep you company.”

“No. I’m always alone. It’s safer that way,” she murmured, too far gone to watch her words. “I take care of myself and answer to no one.”

“That is what you used to do before you met me,” he corrected gently.

“I don’t know you.”

“You know me. With the lights on or off, you know me.” He bent once more to brush his mouth lightly in her hair. Her heart nearly stopped, then began to pound. “Tempest, leave off all this unnecessary fear. I would never harm you. You can trust me. You feel it in your heart, in your soul. Lights do not stop bad things from happening. You know that, too.” But he lit the candles anyway so that the soft glow would reassure her and the aromas would soothe her.

The herbal drink he had given her was beginning to take effect, her eyelids growing too heavy to hold up. “Darius? I hate the dark. I really do.” Still, she drifted with his tide, not asking herself why she felt so safe and comforted with him when she was so uneasy with the rest of the world, when he was not even human.

He stroked her hair gently, silently giving her a small mental push toward sleep. “The night is a beautiful place, Tempest. When you are feeling a little better, I will show you.”