Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

Tempest felt him then. She felt his entry into her body, pure energy moving through her, like an inner light, examining her, warm and soothing. In her mind she heard a voice. Soft, comforting, it whispered like butterfly wings in her mind. The words were none that she knew. Still, she knew she had heard them before. A chant. She tried to distinguish individual sounds, but it was impossible. She received only impressions, like silvery bells, like water skipping over rocks in a brook, like a gentle breeze floating through the leaves of a tree.

Her skin was warm. Her insides were warm. The soles of her feet ceased to sting and actually felt good. Whatever Darius was doing was obviously working, and she wondered at how he was able to heal as he did. At that moment he seemed a perfect miracle to her.

Darius returned to his own body and gazed down at Tempest’s beautiful face. She looked very young, and he felt like a criminal, knowing she had no way to fight him, no way to fight his claim on her. He had made certain of that. She had no idea what the ritual entailed, and perhaps the truth was, neither did he. But Darius felt the difference, in himself, the difference the words he had uttered, binding them together, had caused.

He no longer had any choice in the matter. He had to be with her, near her. He knew they could not be comfortably apart for any length of time. Whatever those words had wrought, it was out of their hands now. They had to abide by the results.

Darius touched her face with a gentle fingertip, “Do you feel better, Tempest?” He knew she did. His mind was becoming accustomed to slipping in and out of hers, and he could feel the relief in her body. He had even soothed her feminine core, so that his wild, rather primitive taking of her would not make her sore.

She nodded solemnly. “It’s incredible that you can do such a thing. Can you imagine what it would mean to the world if humans could learn to heal like that? Perhaps we really could cure cancer. Think of the good that could come of it. We wouldn’t need drugs, Darius.”

“It is not a human way of healing, Tempest.”

“But you healed me, so it can be done on humans. Maybe you should become a doctor instead of a bodyguard. You could help so many suffering people.”

She meant it. The compassion in her was overriding her good sense. Darius leaned over her, and his hand spanned her throat possessively. “I am not human, little love. If those people you want me to heal knew me as I am, they would drive a stake through my heart. You know it is so. I cannot have intimate dealings with humans. No close encounters. Desari entertains humans because she has the voice of an angel and can do no other. Ceasing to do so would make her unhappy, so I must protect her. But I do not deal closely with these people.”

Her hand slid over his, and a small smile curved her soft mouth, melting a dimple into her right cheek. “I am human, Darius, and you deal quite well with me.”

“You are different.”

“No, I’m not,” she protested. “I’m just like everyone else.”

“You saw the beast in me first, Tempest. You relate to animals. You instinctively accepted my primitive nature. You know I am a predator, more animal than man. We Carpathian men are a combination of the two. You alone among humans understand and accept that.”

“You think and reason like a human,” she said, sitting up and pushing back her hair, which hung heavy in the humidity of the cavern. She was sweating again, little beads dotting her skin. She looked around for her clothes, so tired she couldn’t remember what she’d done with them. “You’re more like a human than you think, Darius.”

Darius gathered her against him and cuddled her close. “You want me to be human because it is easier for you to deal with that thought.” A note of censure tinged his voice.