Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Chattering and scolding, the squirrels came next, rushing forward to stop at the edge of the water. Slowly, with great care, Tempest made her way toward them, all the time still talking quietly to the birds. They fluttered around her, cooing and singing, trilling their favorite tunes to her. Two rabbits moved hesitantly into the open, wiggling their noses at her. Tempest stayed very still, reaching out only with her mind to include them in the circle of communication.

It was a bird that first warned her of danger. Riding an air current high above them, its sharp eyes caught a stealthy movement in the brush several yards from the gathering. It keened an alarm, cautioning those below that they weren’t alone. Tempest turned around quickly as the birds took flight and the squirrels and rabbits raced to safety. She was left alone in the clearing, her bare feet still in the water. The man partially hidden in the thick brush was busy taking a series of pictures. He looked all too familiar and, worse, all too triumphant. He had obviously taken photos of the animals swarming around her.

Tempest sighed and ran a hand through her hair. At least she hadn’t managed to draw out anything major or exotic. No bears or fox or minks. But she could still see the reporter’s tatty little rag with her picture on the front, captioned Birdwoman of the Dark Troubadours. What a great article that was going to make. How did she manage to get herself into such messes?

“Hello again. You seem to be following us around,” she greeted Matt Brodrick, hoping she didn’t sound as afraid as she felt. She hated being alone with men, and this meandering stream in a remote wooded area was about as alone as it got. “Did you get some good pictures?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answered, allowing the camera to hang loosely around his neck. He began to move toward her, looking cautiously around. “Where’s the bodyguard?” he asked with great suspicion.

Tempest’s feet moved of their own volition, wading backward into the middle of the stream as Matt Brodrick strode toward her.

“I thought that bodyguard stuck to you like glue.”

“Where would you get an idea like that? I’m the mechanic, not a band member. He sticks to Desari, the lead singer, like glue. That’s his job. I can give him a message the next time I see him if you’d like.” Something about Brodrick made her uneasy. She knew he was more than a nosy reporter trailing after the troupe, but what he wanted, she couldn’t guess.

“Someone tried to kill her a couple of months back,” Brodrick said, watching her face carefully. “Did they tell you that? Did they mention that when the attempt was made, two other members of the band were shot also? This group can be dangerous to be around.”

She went still inside. He was telling the truth; she could feel it. But he had deliberately told her in the quiet solitude of these woods to shock her, to see if he could shake her up. Tempest inhaled, taking in fresh air, pushing out the terrible fear. She began to move in the di­rection of the current even as she gave a casual shrug. “It has nothing to do with me. I fix cars, that’s all. You’re probably in as much danger as I am if someone is trying to hurt Desari and you’re always hanging around.”

She glanced up at the sky. It was a clear, beautiful day, clouds like cotton balls floating serenely high above them. “It’s probably some crazed fan. You know the type. Desari is sexy and beautiful. She draws all kinds of attention. Sometimes so much attention isn’t a good thing.” Some of nature’s tranquillity seeped into her mind.

Or was it Darius again? He was far from her; she couldn’t touch him even when her mind, of its own accord, reached out to find his. She met only blankness, yet she sensed he was helping her. She could feel some­thing of his characteristic calm entering her and helping her toward the stillness that better attuned her to nature.

Brodrick was stalking her along the edge of the stream, careful to keep his wingtips dry. “More likely someone knows what they are.” His eyes bored into her. “You were warning me, weren’t you, trying to tell me if I stayed around here I could get hurt?”