Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

There was a short silence. He died by his own hand, Tempest, he finally replied.

She covered her face with her hands. Could Darius have somehow forced him to do such a thing? She didn’t know. Just how powerful was he? He could shape-shift. Convince a raptor to rescue her from a cliff. What else could he do? And did she want to know? You’re very dangerous, aren’t you?

Not to you, honey. Never to you. Now go back to camp, and allow me to get my rest.

But his body. Someone has to call the police. We have to take his body to the authorities.

We cannot, Tempest. He is a member of a society of assassins. These so-called vampire hunters would come at the first word of his untimely death, and all of us will be in danger. Leave him for some hiker to find later, once we’re gone. He has been unstable for some time, and they will rule it a suicide, as they should.

He did it himself? She sought reassurance.

Anyone who would come after me or mine is dearly suicidal, he answered enigmatically.

She wasn’t going to touch that one. And the other man who attacked me? Is he alive?

Why would you think such a man should live, Tempest? He preys on women. He has done so for years. What does the world need with such a person?

Oh, God, she could not think about this. Why hadn’t she considered the consequences of staying with a crea­ture like Darius? It is wrong to kill.

It is the law of nature. I have never killed wantonly or indiscriminately. This is tiring, Tempest. I cannot sustain this communication for long. Return to camp, and we will continue this discussion when I rise.

She recognized an order when she heard it.

* * *

Chapter Eight

Tempest was gone. Beneath the earth, black eyes snapped open, burning with fury. The ground rolled slightly, an ominous rippling across the park’s surface. Then Darius rose, bursting into the air, soil spewing like a geyser all around him. He felt the curious, disorienting wrench, then the overwhelming sense of loss, the black stain spreading across his soul.

His breath was coming in painful, hard gusts. Red flames flickered and danced in his eyes. There was a pounding at his temples, and deep within him, the beast roared and raged, demanding to be unleashed.

Darius tried to regain a semblance of self-control. Tempest didn’t understand his world, the necessity of death. In her world, she clung to the belief that one who killed was bad. He battled with his own hard arrogance that she dared defy him, dared to leave him. Most of all he battled the beast within, strong now and demanding that he claim what was rightfully his.

Rise. All of you, rise and come to me now. He issued the order to his family, knowing they would obey.

They gathered around him, their faces serious. Only a few times over the centuries had Darius called them this way. Dark fury was etched into the harsh lines of his face. There was a cruel edge to the beauty of his mouth. “We will get her back. Before all else, she will return.”

Desari glanced uneasily at her lifemate. “Perhaps we should not, Darius. If Rusti has run a second time, it is her wish not to stay with us. We cannot force her to our bidding. It is against our laws.”

“I feel her desolation beating at me,” Darius declared, his fury mounting. He was more dangerous at that moment than he had ever been. “She fears me, fears our life together. She is aware of what we are.”

A collective gasp went up. The members of his family stared at one another. Barack broke the shocked silence. “True, she has seen some things unfamiliar to her, but it cannot be that she knows all, Darius.”

Darius regarded them impatiently. “She has known since the first day. She is no threat to us.”

“Any human who cannot be controlled is a threat to us,” Barack said warily. He moved subtly to place his body in front of Syndil.

“Rusti is no threat,” Syndil chastised softly. “You were eager enough to use her to feed, despite the fact that she traveled under our protection.”