Christine Feehan - Dark Destiny (Dark Series - book 13)

You are afraid. It is natural to fear what you do not understand, little one.

His voice was so gentle she wanted to cry. She wanted to reach out to him and be held. Her reaction was so strong, so foreign to her nature, it shocked her. Frightened her even more. She felt off balance and indecisive, and she didn’t like it. He hadn’t called her “little one” in a long while. She tried to tell herself the endearment had thrown her, but she knew better.

She might be afraid, but she was no coward. She could at least be truthful with herself... with him. Her chin went up and she straightened her shoulders.

Yes, I am afraid. I don’t know how to trust anyone. I don’t know that I even trust myself. I trusted the beauty of a voice and I was deceived. You were a child.

His very gentleness caught at her, turned her inside out.

Does that excuse me? You did nothing wrong. And yet you blame yourself for surviving. You were meant to survive. Let me help you.

She raked her hand through her hair so that it fell in a dark cloud around her face. Hunger was burning through her body, gnawing and crawling. She tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the knowledge that feeding was no longer as repulsive to her as it should be. Just as she tried to ignore how easy it was to control her prey. She winced.

Prey. Did you hear me? I thought of them as prey, not people. That’s what I’ve become. That’s what he made me. How can you help me? How can I trust you? I know what you are. You helped me to kill him. You taught me to be what I am. I see the darkness in you. Do you deny it? Of course I do not deny it. The beast is a part of me. It is my strength as well as my weakness. But there is much more to me than a mindless beast bent on death and the torment and pain of others. Just as there is more to you than what he tried to make you. There is darkness in me.

She wouldn’t lie. Not to him. Or to herself, not anymore.

My love.

He said the two words softly, wrapped her up in his magic.

His blood flows in your veins, haunting you, tormenting and whispering, but it is

his

darkness you feel, not your own. Carpathians are great healers. The soil here is adequate, but the soil of our homeland is like no other. His tainted blood can be removed. His shadowing can be dealt with by our healers and the soil of our homeland. How can I trust anything you say to me?

She repeated her question almost desperately, wanting something from him he could never give her. Reassurance. She wanted reassurance, yet she didn’t dare believe ever again.

That is something only you can answer. There was no impatience in his voice, no anger, only a soft gentleness that threatened to fragment her heart.

You have to find that answer for yourself. If you truly cannot see a difference between me and that unholy monster who dragged you from the safety of your home and subjected you—subjected both of us—to his depraved tortures, then I have nothing with which to defend myself. And I never will. You have to see into my heart and soul. Look past the beast and see the man. See what you are to me. My heart and my soul. My everything. See me, all of me, not just fragments, and you will have your answers.

She hated him for whispering the words in her mind. For tempting her. His touch was feather-light, brushing the words against her hideous memories with the caressing stroke of an artist’s brush. He was luring her deeper into his web. She was mesmerized by him. By everything he said. Everything he promised. By what he left unsaid. The strength and power he possessed. His knowledge. The way he had sheltered a helpless child. Even the way he had given her his blood and had not taken a single sip of hers. Blood was power. Connection. He had cradled her to him as no other ever had. Held her as if she mattered to him. He said things that pierced her armor like arrows. Beautiful things she needed, she craved. Beautiful things that terrified her.

Strangely, as she filled in the earth where she had rested, restoring it to its original state, a slight tremor in her legs caught her attention. Alarmed, Destiny lifted her hand in front of her face. It was shaking.

Damn you, I don’t want you here.

What if she had to kill him? What if he gave her no choice? He was making her so weak, her body trembled. She couldn’t afford him. She wouldn’t have him in her territory.

You are worth the risk to my life; you always have been worth the risk.

Nicolae spoke sincerely, as if he meant every word.

Destiny shook her head in denial. He wasn’t going to leave, and as hard as she tried, she could not believe him evil. He wasn’t going to make it simple for her by disappearing. Did she really want him to? The thought came unbidden. Sneaking in and tugging at her conscience.

“I’m fragmented.” She said it aloud as she looked up at the sky. She wished she were truly friends with Mary Ann and could talk to her about Nicolae. “A part of me would be disappointed in him if he didn’t stay. If he didn’t want me.” There, she had admitted it to herself and she hadn’t used the word

devastated.

The word might have floated for one second in her brain, but she hadn’t acknowledged it aloud. Given it life.

How could she survive without him? She had lived with him for years. Shared his mind on every rising. Listened to the magic of his voice. She didn’t know, hadn’t known when he had begun invading her heart. She had known she needed him for the continual battles with the undead. She hadn’t realized she needed him to be alive.

Destiny could find him now, anytime, anywhere. There was a blood tie between them. She could monitor him at will, touch his mind to see what he was doing. It gave her an advantage over him. She would know when he was hunting her. And she would know if he made a kill.

Resolutely she turned toward the city teeming with life. She had left her business with Mary Ann for too long. She preferred to get it over with. Three running steps and she launched herself skyward, spreading her arms as feathers sprouted and the wind took her higher. The earth fell away, taking her fears with it. She blocked out all thoughts of Nicolae and Vikirnoff and allowed herself to indulge in the sheer joy of flight. She would never tire of taking on the form of an owl and used it often when she traveled.

The world was a thing of beauty when she soared through the sky, when the air washed her body clean and she felt whole and pure and alive. She cut through the clouds, not taking the time to play. She had business. She searched familiar places, looking for traces of Mary Ann. Her scent. The sound of her voice. Her soft laughter. She found what she was looking for in a small bar where the locals hung out to exchange the latest gossip.

Destiny sat on the roof of the deli across the street from the bar and surveyed the street. Despite the lateness of the hour, Velda Hantz and her sister Inez sat in their chairs on the sidewalk in front of their apartment building, watching the world go by. Both in their seventies, they were permanent fixtures on the street, greeting each passerby by name and yelling out friendly advice or motherly admonishment if the situation warranted. It was impossible to miss either of them, dressed as they were in their favorite colors of fluorescent pink and chartreuse green. Velda’s pink-tipped gray hair was in its usual artsy windblown style, while Inez’s rich purple do was swept up on top of her head. They both wore the latest running shoes, which they carefully scuffed as they sat in their chairs. Destiny found the sisters oddly endearing. More than once she had allowed them to see her, and always they called out friendly greetings and waved her over for a quick interrogation.