Dark Fire by Christine Feehan. Dark Series – book 6

He loomed over her, tall and enormously strong. “I only know you’d better be sitting right here when I get back.” He made it an order. No velvet over iron this time. Just pure iron. He said it between his teeth to show her he meant business.

Tempest smiled up at him, all innocence. “I can’t think what else I would possibly do.”

He kissed her then because she was so damned tempting that he thought he might incinerate if he didn’t. Her mouth was incredibly soft and pliant, such a mixture of sweet fire and hot honey that he had trouble pulling away. Hunger was beating at him to the extent that he was finding it difficult not to nuzzle her throat and seek the taste of her, rich and hot, flowing into his body. He felt his fangs lengthening at the thought and quickly jerked away. His restless sleep and long night of sexual activities had drained his control. He needed to feed.

One moment Darius was kissing her as if he would never let her go, the next he was gone, just disappeared. In his place was a trailing vapor of mist, streaking away from her toward deeper woods. She watched the cometlike phenomenon almost idly, not certain if it was re­ally Darius or some strange effect created by the lofty atmosphere and the waterfall. It was beautiful, a prism of colors and lights flickering like countless fireflies through the trees. She wondered if he had scented prey, and she shivered at the choice of words that had come to her mind.

She inhaled then, taking the scents of the night into her lungs. It was amazing what tales the various smells could provide. Darius was right; it was only a matter of holding oneself very still and listening with one’s entire being. Focusing. It was almost overwhelming. The trees, the water, the bats, the animals. She patted the boulder, liking that it felt so solid. She felt as if Darius had awakened her and brought her up from the very bowels of the earth to rediscover the beauty of nature.

Something slightly off-key inserted itself into her magical world, but it was so slow, so insidious, she barely noticed it. Everything around her was so exciting, seen through new eyes, a true awakening. The color of the water particularly captured her fascination, the way the wind played with the surface, tugging and teasing it into a frothy foam. But the nagging intrusion was persistent, a mournful note, a jangle, as if something was out of step with the rightness of all she was seeing.

Tempest frowned and rubbed her forehead. It began aching, throbbing, getting worse as she sat still. She stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and very carefully took stock of her surroundings, trying to see without the vivid colors and details, to perceive the reality around her.

Her foot began aching, and she slipped off her shoe and knelt to rub the sole. But the pain wasn’t where she had hurt herself. It was deep within the tissues, and she knew it wasn’t her pain; she was feeling the echo of something or someone hurting. A sudden stillness seemed to sink into the forest, quieting all wildlife. She heard the rush of wings and thought she understood the sudden silence. An owl hunting would keep mice and small animals cowering in their snug homes. Yet the bats remained busy with the insects above her head. Thoughtfully she replaced her shoe and straightened.

A thin ribbon of a deer trail led into the straggly timberline. She wandered over to it, something pulling her in that direction. She wouldn’t go far; she just wanted to find the jarring note intruding on the beauty of nature. The feeling persisted even as she followed the minimal trail. At times it led into thickets of bushes and brambles. She sensed the presence of rabbits crouched below the thorns. They remained unmoving, only their whiskers twitching.

The new intensity of nature’s colors and details began to overlap her need to hunt down the mournful sound seeping into her brain. She found herself sneaking glances at the starlit sky and occasionally turning in full circles to admire the forest. Ferns were becoming taller as she walked deeper into the interior. Moss covered the tree trunks rising skyward. She touched the bark of one and was in awe at the complex blend of textures.