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Lisa raised her head and looked carefully around the room. Her heart was pounding very loudly and her mouth was dry. She had no idea where she was or how she'd gotten there. Her last coherent thought was of getting something to drink from the hospital cafeteria. She was definitely not in a hospital now.


Cullen lay stretched out on a bed, a king-sized mahogany bed, his skin color much less gray. If anything, Lisa thought he looked even more handsome than before. She touched his face with gentle fingertips, an unnamed emotion rising sharp and fast out of nowhere. She barely knew him, yet he seemed to mean so much to her already. That frightened her, as everything frightened her. Life itself frightened her. Lisa knew there was no real stability; people you loved, people you thought you knew, could turn into monsters right before your eyes and plot to destroy you.


She had no right in getting involved in this man's life. He was too good, a steady rock, someone capable of attempting to protect her against killers with guns. She was damaged, and she would never be all right. Where Corinne had grown strong and accepted life, had learned to find beauty and goodness in the world, Lisa thought in terms of shadows. She was so afraid all the time. No matter how hard she tried to overcome her failings, she knew she could never face the world on her own. Where was Corinne? Where was her brother? She couldn't go on alone.


But you're not alone.


Lisa spun around, staring wildly. The room was empty. She was the only one there. And she hadn't spoken aloud. There was only... Lisa turned back to the bed. Cullen lay with his eyes closed, but his hand was moving slowly across the comforter to find her fingers. Immediately she laced her fingers through his. "Thank God, Cullen. I've been so worried."


A faint smile touched his mouth. "I should be sorry I worried you" - his voice was quiet but strong - "but the truth is, I'm glad you cared enough to worry."


"Thank God you're awake," she said staunchly. "I don't know where Corinne is, and we aren't at the hospital. Your friends came and took you out. They said those people would try to kill you if we stayed there. I thought they'd take us wherever Dayan and Corinne are, but..." She looked around rather helplessly. "I don't know, maybe they are here; I just woke up myself. I'm not even certain how we got here."


Cullen's lashes fluttered as he tried to pry open his eyes to see her face. She sounded forlorn and lost and he wanted to gather her close to him. "Barack and Syndil from the band came, remember? I was talking to them. I thought I heard Darius too."


She pulled his hand to her chin, held it close against her bare skin. "I don't know any Darius. I can't remember hearing that name before."


"Darius is our lead singer's brother. He handles security for the band. When Darius is around, you don't have to worry too much about anything. If he gave the order to move Corinne and me to a safer situation, they would do it."


"I only saw Barack and Syndil. They were pretty nice, especially Syndil," Lisa said. "I've been so scared, Cullen. The doctors said you might not survive the night and they told me Corinne and the baby both were going to die. And then Corinne just disappeared without a trace." Lisa was trying very hard to keep the wail out of her voice, but it was there all the same and she hated it.


Cullen managed to get his eyes open to look at her. He inhaled deeply, taking in the faint peach fragrance that always clung to her skin. She was so beautiful to him, it hurt to look at her. She tried hard to be strong, to be something she wasn't, and criticized herself because she didn't measure up in her own eyes. "It's going to be all right, Lisa. I promise I'm not going to die. Barack gave me his blood."


She blinked at him without expression, not comprehending what he was saying. "You needed a transfusion and he gave you one? I heard Syndil say you needed blood, but the memory's vague." Lisa found her memories of the band members were hazy. She couldn't form a distinct impression of any of them, though she had just been with them. She rubbed her forehead; her temples were pounding.


Cullen tugged at her hand to get her attention. "None of that matters, honey. Let the others take care of everything else." He smiled at her. "I'm glad you're here with me. I know you'd rather be with Corinne, but I need you here. Dayan's a good man - he would never allow anything to happen to her."


"Where was he? Why were you with Corinne, instead of Dayan?" Lisa tried to keep an accusatory tone out of her voice. A big part of her disliked Dayan tremendously - unless he was standing directly in front of her. Then, she didn't know why, but it was almost as if her entire opinion of him changed. None of it made sense to her. Lisa swept a hand through her hair and looked bemused. "I'm very confused about Dayan."


Cullen thought she looked more beautiful than ever. "Dayan is good for Corinne. I know him, Lisa. If you value my opinion, at least trust me on this one issue. I know him - I know what he's like. He would never betray a friendship, and he's the closest thing to family I have. The band took me in when I had no one. Everyone I loved was dead, and I had no future. They disregarded the fact that I had actively helped to hunt them and instead allowed me to travel with them for protection. They not only offered protection and friendship, but they took me into their family and made me feel a part of it. Very few people would have been that kind to a total stranger."


Lisa sat quietly, strangely happy in Cullen's company. She felt at peace when she was with him. There was a soft knock on the door, and Lisa turned quickly as Syndil pushed it open and smiled at them.


"Good, you are awake. Is he being good and staying down?"


Lisa found herself smiling, she couldn't help herself. Syndil was a tranquil, appealing woman, and Lisa couldn't imagine her being anything but honest and sweet. "He's being reasonably good," she answered, brushing at Cullen's hair to keep it out of his eyes. "I think his color is better and his voice is strong." She turned to Cullen. "Are you hurting anywhere?"


She sounded so anxious, Cullen smiled, tightening his grip on her hand. "Surprisingly I feel pretty good. But I wouldn't want to repeat the experience. It was fairly scary."


Lisa and Syndil exchanged a very feminine look. "You were out most of the time, Cullen," Lisa noted. "We were terrified for you."


"I'm going to show Lisa the house," Syndil told Cullen in her gentle voice, "while Barack takes a look at you. He wants to explain a few things to you." She took Lisa's arm firmly. "Come with me; I will show you around so you can find everything. If there is anything you need, please tell us immediately." As she led Lisa through the door, she bent closer with a conspirator's whisper. "It is obvious Cullen prefers your company to any other's."


Lisa found herself smiling up at Syndil, never feeling the cold air brushing her as Barack slipped past her unseen to go to Cullen's side. Barack waited until the door was closed and he could hear Syndil talking to Lisa about the food in the kitchen before he materialized beside Cullen.


Cullen watched him with patient eyes. "I knew you were there. You gave me your blood, didn't you?"


Barack shrugged his broad shoulders as if the tremendous gift of life had been a casual one. "You know how the women feel about you. I could do no other than to save your worthless hide or they would have been after me for centuries."


"Darius?" Cullen said the name softly.


Barack grinned at him. "I would not want to be in your shoes when he comes to see you. It is not so much what he says; it is the look he gives you when you nearly get yourself killed that makes you wish your enemy had not missed. He is not happy you placed yourself in such a position. And, of course, there is Dayan."


Cullen groaned aloud. "I don't want to think about Dayan right now. How is Corinne?"


Barack sighed. "She does not have long to live if Dayan does not give her his blood and bring her fully into our world. But there is the complication of the child, it is said she is like Corinne, and we do not want to lose her either. They are trying." He glanced at the door. "We have much to speak about and little time to do it. Lisa is anxious to be back in your company."


"You are too hard on her, Barack," Cullen said.


"So Syndil tells me," he responded. "You know you are different now. You are connected to me for all time. You can touch me when you wish; there is an open path between our minds. The blood bond between us will remain for all your life. You know what we are part of the time, but we shadow your memories most of the time so you are not in danger. It is different now. You will always be a threat to our species. Should your blood be examined, you would endanger us."


Cullen nodded his head, his eyes steady on Barack's face. He had already guessed as much. He had known the moment he had awakened. His hearing was far more acute. It was night, yet he could see clearly in the dark. He felt different, stronger, healthy despite the terrible wounds. He was also aware that his body was healing at a phenomenal rate of speed.


Cullen had been traveling with the band members for some time. He had learned to accept the fact that sometimes he knew what they were and other times his memory of them was hazy and he couldn't conjure up an image of what they looked like. On some level he knew it was necessary to protect the band from any other human seeking information about them. And it was necessary to protect himself from any vampires who might scan the information in his mind. As he traveled in the company of the band, it was likely he would someday encounter one. He knew that everything had changed for him when Barack had given him blood.


"You are under the protection of the family," Barack said softly, "and Darius wants you to know you always will be. But we cannot undo what has been done. There are decisions to be made. We made the choice to save your life, and the blood was freely given because of your place within our family, but only you can make the rest of the choices for yourself. We will respect whatever you decide."


Cullen nodded, understanding more than Barack knew. When his memories of them were clear, he remembered every detail and he had learned a great deal about their species. They were offering him a choice, and he was grateful that he was even being consulted.


"It is not a decision to be made lightly, Cullen," Barack counseled. "You must know I will always be able to read your mind, whether you choose full knowledge or to have your memories removed. I would know if you betrayed us to anyone, including your future wife. I see clearly into your mind. You want Lisa to be your partner, but she will never be able to accept our species as we are. She must always see us as human. She could not accept Corinne's differences, and she would be unable to live with the knowledge. If you choose us as your family, you can never reveal what we are to her. You are someone who values honor and integrity. You want a full partnership with your wife. She will always be in our lives, because she loves Corinne and Corinne loves her. To Corinne, Lisa is family, as you are to us. But you will have to keep this knowledge from Lisa for all time. We have lifemates. We understand the bond between male and female. If you choose to remove the memory of us, we will understand. Remember we will still have the same feelings for you, and you will remain under our protection. It is up to you." Cullen smiled, his teeth very white. "You are my family."


"As Lisa will be."


"Exactly. As Corinne will be. Lisa loves her as a sister. My wife will be connected to you for the rest of her life. If I choose to forget, then I can't give her my protection and help to shield her from the things she can't accept. I know what Lisa is like. She needs a protected environment, someone willing to shield her from the things she can't accept. I want to be that person. Not you or Darius. Me. I never thought I could feel alive again. You know strength, Barack, but you don't know what it's like for someone to struggle like she has to do to live in a world with people capable of doing monstrous things she can't understand. You have it in you to kill if need be. She is incapable of shouting at anyone. It hurts her when people raise their voices at one another. You think of that as a weakness. I look at her and see someone too good to live in a world like this one. I want to shield her. I want the chance to have her love me."


"We will love and accept the one you choose to share your life with. Forgive me, Cullen - I will work on my failings. Syndil has pointed out this same flaw, and I do not intend to continue with this behavior if I can help it. I will get to know Lisa and I will always protect her. You can count on that."


"Thank you," Cullen said quietly. "I'll retain my memories and work to guard our family, as you, Dayan, Julian and Darius always do. I don't want to forget any of it. Neither the good nor the bad. You are all I have."


"Then so be it." Barack gripped Cullen's hand hard for a moment, then backed off. "I have sent your answer to Darius and the others. If you have need, you have only to follow the path in your mind and you can speak with me." He grinned. "Of course, you can do the same with Darius."


Cullen stared up at him for a moment, thinking that over. He should have known that Darius had taken his blood to open a channel to his mind. Darius always protected his family. It was his nature. "Go away. I like looking at Lisa better. But tell Dayan we are praying for Corinne and baby."


Corinne slept fitfully, with strange images flitting in and out of her dreams. When she woke, sometimes the healers were in the room with her, but most of the time there was only Dayan. There were times he lay beside her. Often he sat quietly holding her hand and staring lovingly down at her face. Other times she woke to the sound of his music, a soothing harmony of voice and guitar. She tried a few times to overcome the terrible lethargy that seemed to have invaded her body, but it was too much trouble and she closed her eyes time and time again with the image of Dayan filling her mind and heart. Strangely, she wasn't afraid anymore, not for herself and not for her baby.


She had no idea how much time had passed before she managed to really wake up. She lay quietly taking inventory of her body. Corinne could hear her heart beating, as well as that of her child. She moved her hands protectively over the baby and murmured softly to the child, wondering if she could hear her. As she talked to her daughter, she looked around the beautiful room. It was full of treasures, from the artwork to the carvings on the high ceilings. The room was very large, the colors muted and elegant. The carvings looked like strange, beautiful hieroglyphics. Some of the symbols were soothing to her, while others made her heart pound if she stared at them too long.


Her hand moved over the thick quilt covering her. It was art too, a beautiful blend of colors with similar symbols woven into it. Each character was wide and clear, the surface smooth to the touch. She found her fingers continually seeking out the different symbols and tracing them carefully over and over.


She felt Dayan beside her, just lying quietly, his body wrapped protectively around hers. Corinne turned her head to find him watching her, his black gaze loving. There was so much tenderness there, so much emotion, he robbed her of breath. She smiled, her soft mouth curving as she lifted a hand to touch his face with gentle fingertips. "Hello," she said softly. "Have you been waiting there long?"


"Several risings," he answered honestly, shifting so that he could prop himself up on his elbow to better study her face.


"What are you doing?" she asked, slightly embarrassed by his close scrutiny. He was watching her with unblinking eyes.


"Memorizing your face," he answered truthfully, his gaze drifting over every inch of her classic features. "I want to close my eyes and still be able to see you. I used to welcome daylight as a relief from the ever present whisperings of darkness, yet now I resent those hours because I cannot be with you. I want to talk to you, just be silent beside you, look at you, reach out and touch you, know you are real and not some figment of my imagination." He traced her mouth, her eyebrows, his thumb lingering on the corner of her lips. "I do not want to sleep anymore because I cannot take you with me."


"Do you have to sleep away from me?" she asked, running her hand up and down his arm, needing to touch him almost as much as he needed to touch her.


He bent to brush a gentle kiss across the temptation of her mouth. "When I sleep, it is as if I am dead. I shut down my heart and lungs and do not breathe air. Our species does not have to seek the earth to sleep, and many of our people do not, but they sleep in chambers below ground where they are relatively safe from human hunters and accidents. Most of us do seek the rejuvenating sleep of the earth because it is safer and more natural to us. I would prefer to be beside you always, but it would be unsettling to you to wake and find me as if dead."


"Not if I was expecting such a thing. Why are you so distressed, Dayan?" She pushed her fingers through his hair. "I'm beginning to be able to read you, and you are having a difficult time. If something is wrong, just tell me."


"Everything is going the way the healers have predicted with your health," he answered vaguely, his black gaze slipping away from her.


She curled her fingers around his wrist. "What is it?"


He shrugged casually. Too casually. "There is a ritual between lifemates. It is necessary to bind us together. Until we are formally bound together, I am still a slight risk to others. There is nothing to be done about it, Corinne, until your health is better. It is just uncomfortable for me." The beast was struggling for supremacy from within. He felt it growing stronger with each rising. He needed her more than ever to anchor him. He needed her soul bound to his, her heart to complete him, her body for a safe haven.


"What ritual?" she asked curiously. "And don't shrug and put me off. If we're a partnership, then you have to give me the trust you insist on having from me."


He sighed. "You are getting tough on me, Corinne. Am I losing my charm?" He made an attempt to tease her, to make light of a dark situation.


"I don't think you could ever do that," she reassured him with an answering smile. "But I want us to be very certain we're together on this. It's important to me, Dayan. I don't want to do the wrong thing and take a chance of hurting you. This has happened very fast. I'm someone who has to think things through thoroughly before I make decisions. And you are asking me to take a lot of things on faith."


"We might come from two different worlds, Corinne, but you know we belong together."


"Maybe," she agreed noncommittally. "So tell me the ritual."


He circled her waist with his arm and leaned down to kiss her again. This time he lingered over the simple pleasure, savoring the moment. "When a Carpathian male recognizes his lifemate, he recites ritual words to bind her. The words are imprinted on him before birth. It is much like a human marriage but more permanent. Once said, the words bind the two, heart and soul and mind. She cannot escape him. They cannot be apart after that. They must touch one another often, using mind touch or they become..." He hesitated, searching for the right word. "I don't know - they need to be with one another or they can be very uncomfortable."


"He just says a few words and she belongs to him?" She pushed at his chest with her small hand, glaring. "That doesn't sound very fair to me."


"Now, Corinne" - his voice was as soft as velvet and just as sensuous - "I was not the one who created the ritual. It is thousands of years old. I can do no other than what my heart and soul demand."


"You said the words to me?"


He shook his head, his thick blue-black hair falling around his face. "I cannot while you are so ill. I do not know if your heart would be able to stand a separation from me during the hours I must sleep."


"And it's hard for you because you haven't bound us together?" Her small white teeth bit at her lower lip as she struggled to understand what he was telling her. Words like risings and rituals belonged in someone else's world, not hers. She was very practical. When he began to laugh, she frowned at him, trying to look severe. "You were reading my mind again, weren't you?"


He shrugged, that intriguing ripple of muscles beneath his immaculate shirt. "Naturally. I am your lifemate."


"How do you keep your clothes so perfect? And your hair. Why don't you have morning breath?" Self-consciously she put her hand over her own mouth.


How did he look so perfectly sexy and inviting, when she was disheveled and looking pretty much like a beached whale?


Dayan really laughed then, he couldn't help it. Her image of herself was so far from the real thing that it was ludicrous. He couldn't imagine Corinne's soft, curvy body looking remotely like a whale. He lay back on the bed with her beside him, real, alive, her heart still beating, and he laughed out loud. It was a perfect moment in time.


She started laughing too, just because he was so silly, his joy so evident. Corinne thumped him hard on the chest. "Stop laughing at me."


"I cannot help it, honey. A beached whale? I can hardly tell you are pregnant. That is not a good analogy at all." He put his hand over the mound of her stomach. "And I like you disheveled." He caught her face in his hands and dragged her mouth to his.


The earth seemed to move beneath the bed, a curious rolling effect that brought dancing whips of lightning arcing through the room. The air vibrated with hunger and need. He lifted his head reluctantly and stared into her green eyes. "I love you as you are, Corinne. Right now, in this bed, while we cannot make love and there is a child growing within you. I love you with your hair all over the place and that slightly confused look on your beautiful face." He rolled over to place his hands on either side of her head, pinning her to the bed. "I love how you look at me as if you want to take care of me, though I am the one who is the male."


She touched her fingertips to his perfectly chiseled mouth. "We can take care of each other." Her voice was soft and inviting, a temptation he found impossible to resist.


Aching with love for her, he bent his dark head slowly so that she watched as he came closer, his black gaze hot and hungry and full of terrible need. Corinne circled his head with her slender arms and met his mouth with a hunger of her own. He was heat and light, a symphony of music that lit her very soul. He made her heart beat wildly and her spirit soar high above the clouds. There was no one else for her, whether human or of his species. There was only Dayan with his poet's soul and hungry eyes and dominating mouth. His hard masculine body and his perfect hands that moved over her body with the same talent as they moved over his instrument.


It was Dayan who pulled away first, putting inches between them, but he was breathing heavily. "Your heart is pounding."


Her mouth curved slowly, her eyes dancing. "That's yours, not mine." It wasn't strictly true; both hearts were beating out a syncopated rhythm together.


"The healers are going to come in here and give us a lecture," Dayan whispered, glancing at the door.


She ruffled his hair, enjoying the luxury of touching the silky wayward strands. "What will they do if they catch us?" she asked, smirking at him. "Be shocked?"


"Order me out is more like it," he said gravely. "I would be given a lecture about how irresponsible and selfish I am. Which I am. I should be very careful of you at all times, not giving in to temptation every time you smile at me." He frowned at her when she pushed at his chest. "What are you doing?"


"Getting up. I have to go to the bathroom. I take it that's not something your species has to do much." She was teasing, but the smile faded when he continued to look at her steadily. She held up her hand. "Don't even go there. I don't want to know. Just get out of my way and let a mere mortal do her thing."


"My love" - the words came out a whisper, velvet soft, and seemed to shimmer in the air between them - "I cannot allow you to run around. The healers said complete bed rest. I must insist you obey."


"They didn't mean not go to the bathroom. I seem to remember you carrying me the last time, but it isn't necessary." When he refused to move, she sighed heavily and changed tactics. "All right, carry me again. But this is embarrassing, and I'm afraid it's becoming a bad habit."


Dayan lifted her easily, cradling her in his arms. "I do not see why. You think of the strangest things."


"I'd like to be in your mind once in a while and see what goes on in there," she challenged him.


He set her carefully on the tile floor beside the wide marble sink. "You can read my mind anytime you like, honey. My mind is always merged with yours. I stay a shadow in there so I can find out all those fascinating things you try to hide from the world." He smirked at her. "You are just too much of a chicken to actually look into my mind and see what thoughts are lurking there."


She stood there, gripping the side of the marble sink, staring up at him for a few moments. "Well?" She waited. "Out! You can't think you're going to stay in here."


"I cannot leave you alone," he said mildly.


"I mean it, Dayan. Get out this instant. No arguing. Out!" She was very firm and tough about it.


Dayan looked helpless for a moment, then shrugged and glided out of the bathroom, deciding the old adage "Discretion is the better part of valor" held true.


The door closed with a hard thud behind him at a wave from Corinne's hand. "Make sure your mind goes with you," she called out, then found she was smiling because she could wave at doors and faucets and set her toothbrush in motion and it didn't seem to bother Dayan in the least.


I do not know why you would think my mind would not go with me and stay with you at the same time.


His voice brushed at the walls of her mind like the flutter of butterfly wings, sending waves of warmth coursing through her.


For the first time in a long while, Corinne found she was truly happy. Standing in the bathroom, leaning against the sink, making an attempt to do something with her wild mass of hair, she was perfectly happy. Once she had pulled her hair free from the thick braid, it was too heavy to manage. She found she was too tired to lift her arms to tidy it. She sighed very softly.


What is wrong?


There was anxiety in his voice.


Corinne didn't actually reply, she knew she didn't, she just sighed again, but it was enough to bring him rushing in, scooping her up as if she were precious porcelain. Her hair tumbled in all directions, fanning out over his shoulder and across the dark shadow on his jaw. "Just can't stay away, can you?" she asked, secretly grateful he had raced in to rescue her.


"I knew you needed rescuing," he said with great male satisfaction.


"Was I thinking rescue? That was the actual word in my mind?" She shook her head as she settled onto the bed. "I don't think rescue was the precise word. I can't imagine using a word like that."


"Oh, it was rescue all right." He wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily, not when her green eyes were sparkling with laughter and her intriguing dimple was very much in evidence. He especially loved that dimple. He knew he could spend hours looking at that dimple and never get tired of it.


He took the brush out of her hand. "It is amazing what the males of my race are called upon to do."


Corinne waved her hand toward the center of the room. "Go over there and do something." When he sat there, she pushed him, "Go on, do something."


"Something?" he echoed as he moved obediently into the middle of the bedroom. "What kind of something?" He sounded wary.


"I don't know exactly. Something cool. What do you like to do?" She was looking at him from under her fringe of long lashes.


Dayan suddenly grinned like a mischievous boy. "Anything at all?"


"Sure. Something really big."


His black eyebrows shot up. "If I show you, are you going to show me?"


"Sounds like a dare to me," Corinne said. "I can't resist a dare."


"Then you go first." He folded his arms across his chest, regarding her with his black gaze. "If I go first, you are quite likely to faint from shock."


"Faint! I am not the fainting type. Nothing you do could scare me that much now that I know you can do it," she replied haughtily.


You do not altogether believe I can do it.


His voice whispered in her mind, sinfully intimate. It was temptation, it turned her body to molten liquid.


Corinne found herself staring at him, almost mesmerized by his black-magic spell. He had woven his dark melody so completely, so perfectly, she hadn't realized she was immersed in his music, in his soul. To cover up her reaction to the sheer intimacy of a mind merge, Corinne forced her wayward thoughts under control and concentrated. At once the brush in his hand jumped free and moved through the air to resume the task of taming her flyaway hair. With intense concentration she divided the mass into three sections, using the power of her mind alone, and wove the long hair into a thick braid. A scrunchie came dancing out of the bathroom at her call and fastened itself to the end of her hair to complete the job.


Corinne looked up at him then, a trace of apprehension marring the perfection of her joy. "Well?" She looked like a little girl, unsure whether to feel pride or fear.


Deliberately he grinned at her, a taunting male grin of sheer competition. "Watch this." He held out his arm, his eyes fixed intently on her face, his mind wholly merged with hers in case she was frightened by the change as it came over him. Fur rippled along his arm, muscles contorted and popped.


Corinne watched in wonderment as the man slowly shape-shifted until a large male leopard was standing in the center of the room staring at her with that same unblinking stare. For a moment she stared, almost frozen in place, but then the cat moved, its powerful muscles rippling as it glided silently toward her. She recognized him! She knew it was Dayan. There was the same fluid grace and power, the same hungry eyes devouring her. Her heart rate accelerated, but it wasn't out of fear. Amazement. Fascination. Never fear. Not when it was Dayan.


The leopard nuzzled her so that she buried her hand in the glossy fur, astonished at the texture, at the joy of being so close to something belonging in the wild. She laughed aloud as she caressed the animal's head with her fingertips. For a moment she rubbed her face along the thick neck of the leopard, loving the feel of the fur against her skin. It was exotic, a rare privilege to be so close to a wild animal. The leopard nuzzled her back, its eyes staring at her, mesmerizing, trapping her in the untamed depths. Dayan. Her Dayan. She would know him anywhere, in any shape.


Without warning, a dark shadow seemed to creep slowly into the room, invading the air like a thick foul oil. Corinne froze in place, her entire body going perfectly still. She felt Dayan's reassuring presence in her mind. She watched in horror as the shadow seemed to take shape on the far wall, a grotesque bent figure, a skeleton stick figure with long, bony fingers that seemed to be tipped with daggerlike talons. Her heart thudded in alarm, and instantly Dayan's body was solidly in front of her. She felt the others joining with her too, merging minds - Desari a soothing, calming influence, and Gregori and Darius powerful and, she sensed, deadly.


All of them protected her, shielded her from the creeping shadow. It was wholly evil, a thick oily presence probing, seeking, hunting


something. Corinne felt certain the evil thing was hunting her. She sat very still, kept her mind firmly anchored in the sanity and calm of the others. Shockingly, her heart remained steady, beating in the same rhythm as Dayan's while her lungs breathed along with his.


It was Dayan that surprised her the most. Her poet, so kind and gentle, so giving and loving, was suddenly something altogether different. She felt the contrast in his mind first. She was so attuned to him she recognized the change immediately. It came swiftly, naturally, and she realized these qualities were as much a part of him as his music and his beautiful words. He was dark, dangerous, a silent, deadly predator, a killing machine. Merciless. Without remorse. Ruthless. The total opposite of her poet. The cunning, relentless beast he had named himself. He would be unswerving on the hunt.


And he would never stop until he had destroyed his prey.


Corinne felt Desari stronger than ever, tranquil, soothing, comforting, whispering softly in her mind, the words almost indistinguishable, yet Corinne knew she was aiding her to understand what manner of creature Dayan really was. She felt the momentary surge as the intruder reached for her in an attempt to draw her out. She was safe and protected within the walls of the cocoon the others had wrapped her in. There was no chance of the dark horror finding her, yet it touched the three male Carpathians.


She felt that. Felt the shock, the recoil. The thing shrieked, a hideous sound that was in her head, heard through the listening Carpathians, a high-pitched sound of anger and hatred and fear. It took Corinne a few heartbeats to realize the creature could detect only the males. The women were merged so deeply with the men that the beast could detect only the powerful males. The creature instantly withdrew, retreating with furtive swiftness.


Corinne blinked up at Dayan, barely able to comprehend the transformation in him from poet to predator. His hand brushed her face, her hair, incredibly gentle, seemed to linger for a moment, yet his body was shimmering, almost transparent. She watched, her heart in her throat, as he dissolved right before her eyes. In his place were droplets of mist. The mist streamed through the room and right out the door.


Just like that, Dayan was gone. From the room, from her mind. Gregori and Darius had also disappeared from the mind merge, leaving only Desari, who pushed open the door to the room and glided to her side with an encouraging smile. "You are not afraid, are you?" Her voice was rich with beauty.


Tags: Christine Feehan Dark Paranormal