For a moment interest at that thought swirled enough through her mind to push down her fear. Why, if the notion of being used for food sickened her, did she find the way Darius bit into her neck blatantly erotic?
Okay. She had lost her mind totally, she decided. That was the only answer. She had to get out of this jam and find a way to run for it. Produce a suddenly sick aunt in need out of thin air.
She was close to Barack now, his body crowding hers. Her stomach churning, feeling close to tears, she tried to hold herself very still. He was murmuring something to her; she could hear the words buzzing in her mind, but they had no meaning. She wanted to push him away and run. She couldn’t stand it; she couldn’t. She tried to equate what he was about to do with a simple animal bite, but her stomach revolted, and involuntarily she arched her neck away from his hot breath.
Waves of distress nearly choked her as his fingers curled around her arm. He was enormously strong, quelling her struggles with a viselike grip. A small sound escaped, a note of terror. Inside her mind Tempest could hear herself screaming, though no sound emerged from her closed throat. She was in the middle of real nightmare with no way out.
Then, without warning, not even a rush of wind, a huge black panther hit Barack squarely in the chest, a full two hundred pounds of fury driving the man back and away from Tempest. Barack hit the side of the car hard, the air knocked from him, then landed on the ground on his back, the cat driving straight for his throat.
Vaguely aware of Desari, Julian, another man, and Syndil beginning to emerge from the trees but stopping, frozen in horror, Rusti sought to calm the wild cat. In its mind she found a red haze of killing fury, like nothing she had ever encountered. She ran forward, still trying to soothe it, whispering to it, commanding. Only when she was near Barack, a Barack who was not even struggling for his life, who instead lay submissively beneath those terrible teeth, did she comprehend that the cat was Darius. Shocked, she continued to approach the cat.
“Rusti, stay back!” Desari called out to her. She tried to move forward to help Barack, to stop Tempest, but Julian was restraining her, literally lifting her off her feet, his strong arms around her waist.
The terror on Desari’s face, echoing in her voice, registered with Tempest, but even with her own heart pounding in alarm, she reached for Darius, past the fierce fury of the animal to find the man. She knew him. She wasn’t exactly certain how, but she knew he was there, somewhere inside that killing rage.
Darius. It is over. Barack did nothing but frighten me. Come back to me. She kept her tone a soft, trusting plea, much like what she used
first with a frightened animal. Soothing, with a belief that it would respond. She somehow knew that Darius would not respond to any of the others and that if she didn’t stop him, the cat could very well end Barack’s life.
This had happened because of her. That knowledge, like his identity, came to her seemingly out of nowhere, but she was certain of it, and she felt a rush of wonder that anyone could have such a depth of feeling for her.
Please, Darius, for me
—
release Barack and come to me.
The panther snarled, exposing long, razor-sharp canines, but at least he wasn’t sinking them into Barack’s throat. The cat crouched low, vicious, its body frozen into utter stillness, only the tail twitching restlessly, angrily, back and forth. Barack lay under the cat, totally submissive, well aware of who had attacked him. The silence was filled only with his heavy breathing and the cat’s snarling rage.
“Darius.” Tempest was a heartbeat from the cat’s teeth. Cautiously she laid a hand on the heavily muscled back. Her voice was soft, warm honey. “I’m all right. Look at me. He didn’t hurt me. He really didn’t.”
A collective gasp went up, as much for her knowledge as for her courage. It was now obvious to all that she knew the identity of the great cat. Desari clenched Julian’s hand in hers, suddenly afraid. No human could know of their existence and live. It placed them all in jeopardy. How did Tempest Trine know? Neither Darius nor Barack would have been so careless as to forget to expunge her memories. Yet how could they do such a thing as destroy the woman who had the courage to save one of their lives, as Tempest was clearly attempting to do?
The black panther moved, ever so slightly shifting its weight, placing its neck beneath Tempest’s palm.
Please, Darius, I’m hanging on to my courage by a thread. Help me out. I want to get away from everyone. This is very frightening. All of it. And I don’t understand it, so come to me and explain it.
In spite of her determination to be brave, her hand was trembling as it lay on the great cat’s back.
Tempest felt Darius’s control seeping slowly back into his mind, felt the man overcoming the beast’s rage. The panther moved against her, inserting itself between her and the fallen man. It pushed her away from Barack’s supine figure, farther even, toward the trees and away from the prying eyes of his family. Then the leopard padded behind her, directing her into the deeper woods, its walk so silent, she felt she could hear leaves falling.
Back at the campsite the group released a long, collective sigh of relief. Dayan moved first, reaching down and pulling Barack to his feet. “Close call. What the hell did you do?” His voice was accusing. No one ever crossed Darius.
Barack held up his hands. “Nothing. I swear it. I was going to feed, that’s all. Nothing else happened. He went berserk on me.”
Syndil’s slender hand fluttered to her throat. “Could Darius be turning? Darius is never out of control. Could it be happening?”
“No!” Desari cried out, somewhere between fear and outrage at the betraying thought. “No, Darius cannot turn. He is too strong.”
Julian slipped an arm around her waist, a slight grin on his face. “None of you know, do you? Darius has not turned. He will never turn. Not now. He has found his lifemate.”
“What are you talking about?” Dayan asked.
“These things were never taught to you,” Julian mused softly, more to himself than the others. “You were not raised among other Carpathians. What is often second nature to us is not even known to you.” His grin widened. “It is not known to Darius. Life is about to become quite interesting around here, boys and girls.”
“Stop spouting nonsense, and tell us what you mean.”
Desari commanded, her soft, dark eyes beginning to smolder. “Should we be protecting Rusti?”
“The only one safe is Tempest. Each Carpathian male must find the light to his darkness. It is his only salvation. Without that woman, his lifemate, he will eventually be forced to choose the dawn and eternal rest, or he will succumb to the madness of the undead and lose his soul for all time. Become vampire. There is only one woman for each male, one other half.”
“But Tempest Trine is human,” Dayan objected. “This cannot be. We have been aware that there exists the other half of our heart, our soul, out there somewhere. A quest to find the proper mate must be made, as you found Desari, Julian. But Tempest is not a Carpathian.”
“There are a handful of human women,” Julian answered slowly, “all having some form of psychic ability, who can be lifemates to Carpathians. No doubt Tempest Trine is one such female. She wandered into your midst seeking a job but was likely drawn to do so because she was connected to Darius,” he explained. “Funny, is it not, how fate has a way of bringing two linked souls together? Do not attempt to intervene between them and, for God’s sake, do not touch that woman. Should you do so, Darius will be more beast than man, his every instinct to protect and care for her, to keep her from any others who might threaten her or her connection to him. He is more dangerous at this time than at any other.” Julian grinned again. “Leave him to it; he will figure it out eventually.”