Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

The stream was icy cold, and she lay down in it, full length, wanting the water to soothe the burning slashes in her skin, to numb her enough that she could think again. She stared up at the blue sky and saw only the agitated bird. She sat up slowly and pulled herself to the streambank. The wind combined with the icy water began to seep inside her, and she started to shake.

You should have stayed within the perimeters I set for you, Darius said quietly, with only the slightest edge to his voice.

Shut up about your stupid perimeters, she snapped. Even though she’d expected it, she couldn’t bear to be lectured over some idiot reporter who thought he was on to a nest of vampires. The hell with that. “What are you saying?” she asked herself aloud. “There is a nest of vampires. Or maybe it’s called a coven of Carpathians. No, covens are for witches. But whatever it is, it isn’t my fault that some nut wants to shoot everyone.”

Her neck and side were throbbing. So were the soles of her feet. She examined one, winced, and put them back in the water. It isn’t safe around you, Darius. Things just happen. Bizarre things.

It is very safe around me, but you do not know your limits, and you seem to have a problem listening to reason. If you had stayed where you were supposed to stay, none of this would have happened.

“Oh, go to hell,” she muttered aloud, certain he couldn’t possibly hear her. Did he have to be so blasted superior all the time? She hurt everywhere; the last thing she wanted to do was listen to an infuriating male. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his help. She could tell by his voice, by the fact that he was so far away, that his intervention had been difficult. Still, that didn’t give him the right to chastise her, did it?

I have the right because you belong to me and I can do no other than to see to your safety and happiness. The voice was calm and very masculine, holding a dark promise she didn’t want to think about.

“You can do no other than shut up,” she muttered resentfully. Clenching her teeth against the pain, she eased her shoes from around her neck. She didn’t want Matt Brodrick sneaking up on the campsite and shooting Desari or Darius from some bush.

He cannot, Darius said soothingly. This time there was a hint of laughter in his voice at her rebellion.

Go to sleep or whatever it is you do, she snapped. I’ll make sure no one can hurt you. She added the last just to set his teeth on edge.

She immediately received the impression of gleaming teeth, that predator’s smile, his black eyes burning with the promise of retaliation. Tempest pulled her mind abruptly from his, mostly because he could intimidate her even from a distance, which was hardly fair. Wincing, she eased her sneakers on over her wet, damaged soles and gingerly stood.

She swayed, her every wrenched and punctured muscle protesting, from holding up her own weight. With a sigh, she followed the stream, hoping to find her way back to the campground. It wasn’t easy going, the terrain rough in places as she moved steadily upward away from the stream bed. Twice she sat down to rest, but finally she reached the stand of trees where she had first spotted Brodrick.

Tempest looked around carefully, certain she was in the correct spot, but the man was nowhere in sight. A black feather floated from the sky, a slow swirling in the breeze that dragged her attention skyward. Several large birds circled above the trees, more gathering even as she watched. Her heart nearly stopped. Buzzards.

She sat down abruptly on a rock, her heart pounding loudly. Darius? Even in her own mind, her voice trembled, wavered, sounding forlorn and lost.

I am here, honey. He sounded strong and reassuring.

Is he dead? I don’t want to find his body. You didn’t kill him, did you? She was pleading with him, hoping he hadn’t, but it suddenly occurred to her just why he had assured her Brodrick couldn’t hurt them and why, earlier, she didn’t need to go to the police and report Harry’s attack on her. Why he had suggested neither assailant would bother anyone again. Had she always known? Had she simply pretended to herself that Darius was always sweet and gentle, if a bit too imperious? She had known all along he was a dangerous predator; he had said as much himself. And when he said she was under his pro­tection, it meant something to him. Darius was not hu­man. He had his own code he lived by. Did you kill him, Darius?