She sought reassurance.
Anyone who would come after me or mine is clearly suicidal,
he answered enigmatically. She wasn’t going to touch that one.
And the other man who attacked me? Is he alive? Why would you think such a man should live, Tempest? He preys on women. He has done so for years. What does the world need with such a person?
Oh, God, she could not think about this. Why hadn’t she considered the consequences of staying with a creature like Darius? It is
wrong to kill. It is the law of nature. I have never killed wantonly or indiscriminately. This is tiring, Tempest. I cannot sustain this communication for long. Return to camp, and we will continue this discussion when I rise.
She recognized an order when she heard it.
Chapter Eight
Tempest was gone. Beneath the earth, black eyes snapped open, burning with fury. The ground rolled slightly, an ominous rippling across the park’s surface. Then Darius rose, bursting into the air, soil spewing like a geyser all around him. He felt the curious, disorienting wrench, then the overwhelming sense of loss, the black stain spreading across his soul.
His breath was coming in painful, hard gusts. Red flames flickered and danced in his eyes. There was a pounding at his temples, and deep within him, the beast roared and raged, demanding to be unleashed.
Darius tried to regain a semblance of self-control. Tempest didn’t understand his world, the necessity of death. In her world, she clung to the belief that one who killed was bad. He battled with his own hard arrogance that she dared defy him, dared to leave him. Most of all he battled the beast within, strong now and demanding that he claim what was rightfully his.
Rise. All of you, rise and come to me now.
He issued the order to his family, knowing they would obey.
They gathered around him, their faces serious. Only a few times over the centuries had Darius called them this way. Dark fury was etched into the harsh lines of his face. There was a cruel edge to the beauty of his mouth. “We will get her back. Before all else, she will return.”
Desari glanced uneasily at her lifemate. “Perhaps we should not, Darius. If Rusti has run a second time, it is her wish not to stay with us. We cannot force her to our bidding. It is against our laws.”
“I feel her desolation beating at me,” Darius declared, his fury mounting. He was more dangerous at that moment than he had ever been. “She fears me, fears our life together. She is aware of what we are.”
A collective gasp went up. The members of his family stared at one another. Barack broke the shocked silence. “True, she has seen some things unfamiliar to her, but it cannot be that she knows all, Darius.”
Darius regarded them impatiently. “She has known since the first day. She is no threat to us.”
“Any human who cannot be controlled is a threat to us,” Barack said warily. He moved subtly to place his body in front of Syndil.
“Rusti is no threat,” Syndil chastised softly. “You were eager enough to use her to feed, despite the fact that she traveled under our protection.”
“Aw, Syndil, do not start again,” Barack pleaded. “You’ve just begun speaking to me again. Do not get all worked up once more.”
Darius waved a hand impatiently, dismissing the argument. “I cannot survive without her. She must be found. Without her I am lost to the undead. She is all that matters in my world, and we must retrieve her.”
“No,” Desari gasped, unable to believe that her brother could be so close to turning.
It was Julian who shrugged casually. “Then we can do no other than return her to our family. She is young, Darius, and human. It is natural for her to fear what we are, to fear your strength and power. You are no easy man to deal with. You need patience.”
The burning black eyes settled on Julian’s face for a moment; then some of the tension eased from Darius’s shoulders. “She is hurt and alone. She does not understand the need to merge her mind with mine. She fights herself continually. I am worried for her health.” Darius sighed softly. “And she seems to have a penchant for getting herself into trouble whenever I leave her on her own.”
“That, I fear, is a woman thing,” Julian declared with a wry grin. Desari thumped Julian’s chest. “Where is she, Darius?”
Tempest sat huddled on the seat near the window, peering out with sightless eyes at the countryside flashing by. She had been lucky to flag down a bus once she made her way to main highway, even luckier that the driver had allowed her on board. But the farther the bus carried her from Darius, the heavier her heart had become. It was now like a leaden weight in her chest. Sorrow was pressing in on her. Grief. As if by her leaving him, Darius had died. Intellectually she knew it wasn’t so, but in her resolve to get away, she firmly forced herself to stay away from the path to his mind. And that left her feeling unutterably alone and lonely.
She could hear small snatches of conversation flowing around her. A man, two rows back, was snoring loudly. Several young people were laughing together, exchanging travel stories. At least four military men were on the bus, returning to their homes on leave. Everything seemed to flow around her as if she wasn’t there, as if
she
were no longer alive.
Tempest knew blood was seeping from the puncture wounds on her rib cage and most likely from the scrapes down her back. Someone was bound to notice if it didn’t stop soon. She tried to concoct a plausible story, but she couldn’t keep her mind on anything but Darius. It took every effort, every bit of concentration and control not to call out to him, not to reach for him when she needed him so desperately. Her shoes were squishing with her own blood. If anyone really looked at her, they’d probably turn her over to the authorities. She huddled down farther in the seat. She just wanted to disappear, become invisible. Even her clothes were damp from her plunge into the stream. She hadn’t returned to the campsite, so she had no money, no tools, no plan. More than anything she wanted to feel Darius beside her.
The miles accumulating between her and Darius were putting more and more of a strain on her. She could feel tears burning behind her eyes. It was becoming difficult to breathe. Even her skin was sensitive, needing the feel of his. Tempest closed her eyes tightly against the pounding in her head, the constant strain of keeping her wayward mind from reaching out to his.
“Looks like we’re running into a freak storm,” the bus driver announced, peering through his windshield at the sky.
The weather was indeed changing rapidly. Rising directly in front of them was a huge cloud shaped like a dark, old-fashioned blacksmith’s anvil. Almost instantly the bus hit a sheet of driving rain, so thick and hard, it was nearly impossible to see. Swearing, the driver slowed the vehicle significantly. The rain turned an ominous white. The driver ducked instinctively as hail pounded the roof and windshield. The sound was alarming, like the chatter of a machine gun.
The hail soon took the driver’s visibility to zero, am he slowed even more, trying to reach the side of the road. The only warning the passengers had was the hair on their necks standing on end before the flash of lightning struck directly in front of the bus. Thunder crashed shaking the mammoth bus, rattling the windows. There was silence for perhaps ten seconds, then several girl screamed and a child began to cry. Just as abruptly a the hail had started, it stopped.
The driver peered out, trying to see as he parked the bus, hoping he was safely off the road. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud, and thunder crashed again. Staring out the windshield, he found himself ducking as a huge owl flew straight out of the driving sheets of rain.