Christine Feehan - Dark Challenge (Dark Series - book 5)

Over the centuries they had stayed together, a family unit, Darius guiding them, always acquiring more knowledge, devising new ways to hide their differences from the humans they encountered, and even to invest money. He was powerful and determined. Desari was certain there was no other like him. His rule was unquestioned; his word was everything.

None of them had been prepared for the tragedy two months earlier. Desari could hardly bear to remember it. Savon had elected to lose his soul, giving himself over to the crouching beast, choosing to be completely dark. He had hidden the spreading evil stain even from those closest to him.

He had bided his time, awaited his opportunity, and then he had viciously attacked Syndil. Desari had never seen such a brutal assault on any woman. The men had always protected, treasured, and cherished the women. No one dreamed such a thing could happen. Syndil was sweet and trusting, but Savon had beaten her that day, mauled and raped her. He had nearly killed her, draining her of blood. Darius found them, directed by Syndil’s frantic mental cries for help. So shocked that his closest friend had committed such a monstrous crime, he was nearly killed himself when Savon had attacked him.

Afterward, Syndil had been so hysterical, she allowed only Desari near her and only Desari to replace the blood she had lost. In turn Barack and Dayan had supplied Desari and Darius. It had been a tragic, horrible time, and Desari knew none of them had fully recovered yet.

Syndil now spent most of her time in the earth or shape-shifting into a leopard. She rarely spoke, never smiled, and did not allow discussion of the attack. Dayan had grown quieter, more protective. Barack was the most changed. He had always seemed a playboy, laughing his way through the centuries, but for a month he, too, had stayed in the earth, and lately he was moody and watchful, his dark eyes following Syndil wherever she went. Darius was different, too. His black eyes were bleak and cold. He watched over the two women even more closely. Desari noticed he had also distanced himself from the men.

Syndil, come now!

This time she gave the order in a firm, decisive voice. Darius was far too heavy for Desari, in her weakened state, to move. What had happened to Syndil was not her trauma alone. They had all suffered, all had been changed forever by it. They needed her. Darius needed her.

Syndil materialized beside them, tall and beautiful with her enormous sad eyes. She paled visibly when she saw the bloodstains on Desari, when she noted Darius swaying unsteadily on his feet, his face gray. Quickly she caught him, taking most of his weight. “The others? Where are they?”

“Darius gave them his blood, blood he could not afford to give up,” Desari explained. “We were attacked by mortals with guns. Dayan and Barack were both hit too.”

“Barack?” Syndil’s pale face whitened even more. “And Dayan? Do they both live? Where are they?”

“They are in the healing earth,” Desari assured her.

“Who would want to shoot you? And what happened to Darius?” Syndil urged Darius forward toward the troupe’s bus. Under cover of darkness they made their way inside where Darius had left the two leopards after they aided him.

The moment they had Darius on the couch, Desari ripped away his shirt to expose his wounds. Syndil pushed closer. Her gaze narrowed speculatively. “A leopard did that.”

“Something did it,” Darius corrected grimly. “But he was no true leopard. Nor was he mortal. Whoever he was, he gave Desari blood.” He shook his head and looked up at his sister. “He was strong, Desari, stronger than anything I have ever come up against.”

Syndil bent to him. “You need blood, Darius. You must take mine.” She refused to let her fear of being close to a male, the strongest in her family, allow her to shirk her duty. She was already ashamed that she had removed herself so far from the others that she had been unable to detect the danger to them all.

Darius’s eyes, so dark they were black, drifted over her face. He could see everything, see into her very soul, see her aversion to touching a man. He shook his head. “Thank you, little sister, but I would prefer that you give your blood to Desari.”

“Darius!” Desari protested. “You need it desperately.”

Ashamed, Syndil hung her head. “It is for me he does this,” she confessed softly. “I cannot bear to be touched by a male, and he knows it.”

“If it were not necessary to dilute the blood of the intruder in Desari’s veins,” Darius objected softly, his voice soothing, “I would gladly accept your offering. If it is distasteful to you to do such a thing for me, then the offer is all the more valuable, and I thank you.”

Darius,

Desari warned, careful to use their own private mental wave,

Syndil is not strong enough to dilute the blood. This is a small thing to do for Syndil, Desari.

Darius closed his eyes again and sank into himself, sealing off the worst of the claw marks and beginning the ritual to heal each of the deep wounds from the inside out.

Syndil watched Darius’s face, waiting until he was far from them in spirit, not heeding their conversation, before she spoke. “Is he lying to me?” she asked.

Desari stroked her brother’s arm, choosing her words carefully, thoughtfully. “There was another besides the mortals. We do not know what he is. He saved my life, sealing off my wounds and giving me his blood. Darius attacked him; they fought. Apparently neither came out the victor.”

Syndil studied Desari’s face. “You are afraid. It is true then. You have this intruder’s blood in you.”

Desari nodded. “I feel different inside. He did something.” She whispered the words aloud, for the first time admitting it to someone other than herself. “I am changed.”

Syndil put an arm around Desari. “Sit beside Darius. You look as if you are going to fall on your face.”

“I feel like it, too.” Desari buried her face on Syndil’s shoulder for a moment, hugging her tightly. “What would we do without him?”

“He will be fine,” Syndil said softly. “Darius cannot be killed so easily.”

“I know.” Then Desari confessed her worst fear. “It is just that he has been so unhappy for so long. I am always afraid he will one day allow something or someone to destroy him so that he does not have to continue.”

“We all have been unhappy,” Syndil pointed out as she firmly pushed Desari to a sitting position. “How could what Savon did to me, to all of us, leave us unchanged? But Darius will not desert us. He would never do such a thing, not even in the guise of a carelessly received wound.”

“Do you think he was careless then?” That frightened Desari even more. If Darius had been careless, it meant her fears were closer to the mark than ever.

“Take my blood, Desari. It is freely offered to you and Darius. I hope that it provides both of you with strength and peace,” Syndil replied softly. She opened her wrist with one sharp nail and held it to Desari’s mouth. “For Darius, if not for yourself.”

Desari fed, then leaned down to her brother, whispering softly into his ear. “Take from me what is freely offered, brother, what you need. Take it for yourself and for all of us who depend so heavily on you. I offer up my life that you might live.”

“Desari!” Syndil protested sharply. “Darius might not know what he does. You cannot say things like that.”

“But it is true,” Desari said softly, stroking back her brother’s hair. “He is the greatest man I have ever known. I would do anything to save his life.” She pressed her opened wrist to her brother’s mouth. “What he has done for all of us, no other could have done. No other six-year-old could ever have saved us. It was a miracle, Syndil. He had no training, no one to guide him, yet he managed to keep us all alive. The life he gave us has been a good one. He deserves so much more than he has.”