“Darius is an extraordinary individual. He was six years old when our parents were killed. I was four. He kept us alive.” He waved his hand, the movement graceful as he dismissed the past. “It was a long time ago.”
Corinne reached up to rub his jaw with the palm of her hand. “You sound so sad, Dayan. It couldn’t have been that long ago. Was your childhood difficult?”
“It was an adventure, Corinne, unlike yours. Remember, all of us are telepathic, and we are used to our differences. It was a wild, fun, very exciting time. Tell me about your childhood. I know bits and pieces through your memories, but you have locked most of it behind a heavy door I do not wish to open without permission.”
They walked together unhurriedly along the pavement. Dayan seemed to glide beside her, making no noise. If she hadn’t felt the security of his large frame brushing hers and his hand wrapped around her fingers, she would not have known he was beside her. In a way it was reassuring, yet it was also eerie to feel such raw power and stealth in him. “You aren’t like everyone else.” She said it quietly, intuitively.
There was a small silence, the space of several heartbeats. “I am from an ancient lineage,” he admitted softly. “I have gifts, special gifts granted to me.”
She smiled in the darkness. “I am very glad we met, Dayan. There is something wonderful and beautiful about you. When I’m with you I feel as if I could go on forever. The words to your songs and the beautiful music you play are exceptional. I love the sound of your voice, speaking or singing.”
He curled her hand against his chest, so that she could feel his heart beating strongly beneath her skin, right through his shirt. She could feel the heat of his skin, the call of his masculine body as his muscles moved subtly. Above her head, Dayan smiled, his smile slightly wolfish. “You are deliberately trying to direct the conversation away from your childhood.” He was secretly pleased by the sincerity he detected in her mind. He had placed no compulsion on Corinne, nothing to enhance her feelings for him. He was relying on the fact that she was his true lifemate, yet he had not bound her to him with the ritual words. He feared their forced parting during the daylight hours might be too difficult for her strained heart.
“Why would you want to hear a boring story on such a beautiful night?” Corinne kept her head down, not wanting to look into his eyes when they saw far too much.
“I want to know everything about you, Corinne,” he said softly, his voice sheer black magic in the dark of the night.
How could anyone refuse the beauty of that voice? She took a breath, let it out. “The bad memories are of my mother drinking. I can’t really recall much of her doing anything else. There were always men and awful little rooms we lived in, stuffy and hot. I spent all my time listening to music. I’d sneak out and find places where there was live music.” She tossed him a quick grin. “It was an advantage being small – I could fit anywhere, and using telekinesis, I could remove locks and open heavy doors.”
His hand moved over her hair in a small caress. He had to touch her. He could feel the contrasting emotions accompanying her memories.
“I lived for music. I dreamed it and heard it night and day in my head. It kept me sane when I was alone. It balanced my world, was something I escaped into. And then, of course, I met John and Lisa and their father.”
There was such a wealth of sadness in her voice, Dayan gathered her into his arms, gently, protectively, his body sheltering hers in the dark of the night. He held her as if she were fragile porcelain, a precious treasure. “I’m grateful you had John and Lisa.” And he meant it. John had saved Lisa’s life and protected Corinne. He had done his best to create a family for them. Dayan was grateful someone had been there for her when he could not.