DARK MELODY By Christine Feehan

“I have used my talent before,” Corinne asserted.

“Perhaps, but in small things – little surges of power that would not call to the undead unless you were already in close proximity to them. More and more you are becoming at ease with your talents. Any surge of power leaves traces. We can find one another through those surges, and so can the undead.” Desari spoke matter-of-factly, calmly, as if she were speaking of the weather.

“On the other hand, this all might be some weird nightmare I haven’t managed to extract myself from,” Corinne suggested with a slight smile. “Dayan is worth it, though. I love to listen to him. He says the most beautiful things to me. He has such a beautiful voice, and a beautiful soul. He always makes me feel as if I’m the only woman in his world.”

“To him you are the only woman,” Desari said. “And truly, Corinne, how could he not fall in love with you? Look at you – the way you’ve accepted your physical problems and still held your family together, the way you’ve accepted the information that Dayan has given you. It cannot be easy for you, but you work at listening and believing and comprehending what he tells you. Who else would give him that kind of acceptance? After centuries of being alone, without an other half, he finally has a home, and he appreciates it. You are his home. No other. You.”

“I don’t think he has accepted my physical problems,” Corinne said, embarrassed by the woman’s words.

“Because he fights for you?” Tempest laughed softly. “You’ll find that that is one thing the males of this species are exceptionally good at.”

Savannah nodded. “Dayan is fighting for your life and the life of your child. In truth he fights for his life also. Without you he has nothing. Dayan has existed in a bleak, barren world – he will not choose to continue without you. Should you travel to the next world, he will accompany you, as is his right as a Carpathian male.”

“I’m very tired,” Corinne confessed, her hand going protectively over her gently rolling baby. “I try to hide it from him, but he always seems to know.”

Desari smoothed back Corinne’s hair with gentle fingers. “He is your lifemate. Of course he knows. I have known Dayan my entire life. I am so happy he has found you. He tells us you are C. J. Wentworth, the songwriter. I am so pleased to welcome you into our family.”

Corinne sank back among the pillows. “I’m glad he has you all.” She wanted Dayan. Wanted to spend every moment she had left with him. She could feel her strength ebbing away, slowly but surely. “What about my baby?” She looked at Savannah and then Tempest. “I know they must have told you the truth.”

It was Savannah who answered. “Your heart will not hold up forever. In one more rising we will conduct another healing ritual. Our goal now is to give your daughter a few more hours, or days, whatever time we can. Gregori says her will is strong, and that is half the battle. She is like you, a true psychic, and therefore very important to our race.”

“You use the term rising because it is night, not morning, when you wake,” Corinne guessed. “Do they think they can save her?”

“We are waiting for Shea to arrive. Jacques, her life-mate, insisted they rest before completing the journey. Shea is with child, and he is protective of her,” Savannah reported. “My mother sent word ahead. Shea has done much research into the problems of keeping our infants alive. She is a tremendous resource to us all.”

“I cannot believe she traveled all this way when she is with child,” Desari said, slightly shocked. “Corinne, we have trouble bearing children; our race is bordering on extinction. Julian is hoping we can provide a child for our people soon.”

“The interesting thing is,” Savannah said, “Gary Jansen, a human friend of ours, a researcher, has been tracing the lineages of families in which children are born closer than fifty to one hundred years apart. There are only a couple of them. Sarantha, Mikhail’s mother, comes from such a line, as does Gregori. Gary and Shea think the infrequency of conception is a form of natural birth control. Desari, you are a descendant of one of the lines. As far as we know, I’m the only other.”

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