Dark Fire (26 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Romance, #Automobile Mechanics, #Fiction, #Supernatural, #Paranormal Romance Stories, #Musicians, #Paranormal Fiction, #Human-animal communication, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Dark Fire
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She inhaled then, taking the scents of the night into her lungs. It was amazing what tales the various smells could provide. Darius was right; it was only a matter of holding oneself very still and listening with one's entire being. Focusing. It was almost overwhelming. The trees, the water, the bats, the animals. She patted the boulder, liking that it felt so solid. She felt as if Darius had awakened her and brought her up from the very bowels of the earth to rediscover the beauty of nature.

Something slightly off-key inserted itself into her magical world, but it was so slow, so insidious, she barely noticed it. Everything around her was so exciting, seen through new eyes, a true awakening. The color of the water particularly captured her fascination, the way the wind played with the surface, tugging and teasing it into a frothy foam. But the nagging intrusion was persistent, a mournful note, a jangle, as if something was out of step with the rightness of all she was seeing.

Tempest frowned and rubbed her forehead. It began aching, throbbing, getting worse as she sat still. She stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot, and very carefully took stock of her surroundings, trying to see without the vivid colors and details, to perceive the reality around her.

Her foot began aching, and she slipped off her shoe and knelt to rub the sole. But the pain wasn't where she had hurt herself. It was deep within the tissues, and she knew it wasn't her pain; she was feeling the echo of something or someone hurting. A sudden stillness seemed to sink into the forest, quieting all wildlife. She heard the rush of wings and thought she understood the sudden silence. An owl hunting would keep mice and small animals cowering in their snug homes. Yet the bats remained busy with the insects above her head. Thoughtfully she replaced her shoe and straightened.

A thin ribbon of a deer trail led into the straggly timberline. She wandered over to it, something pulling her in that direction. She wouldn't go far; she just wanted to find the jarring note intruding on the beauty of nature. The feeling persisted even as she followed the minimal trail. At times it led into thickets of bushes and brambles. She sensed the presence of rabbits crouched below the thorns. They remained unmoving, only their whiskers twitching.

The new intensity of nature's colors and details began to overlap her need to hunt down the mournful sound seeping into her brain. She found herself sneaking glances at the starlit sky and occasionally turning in full circles to admire the forest. Ferns were becoming taller as she walked deeper into the interior. Moss covered the tree trunks rising skyward. She touched the bark of one and was in awe at the complex blend of textures.

It occurred to her that her senses were so heightened that no mind-altering drug could ever compare. She wandered away from the trail for a moment so she could study an unusual rock formation. The boulders were covered on one side with lichen and tiny life forms, minute insects creating their own world. Tempest glanced up at the sky again, amazed that she could see so clearly even within the deep shadows of the trees.

She was moving into thicker woods, where it was much darker, yet she could see quite well, her eyesight as acute as her hearing. She turned the focus of her newfound senses inward. Her stomach was slightly upset. She felt full; the thought of food made her slightly sick, yet she was thirsty. She became aware of the sound of the stream bubbling happily toward the waterfall. She angled toward the water, pushing her way through the brush.

As she knelt at the edge of the stream, she became aware of the discordant note again. It was louder this time, jarring her, making her head hurt. Somewhere close by something wasn't right. Something was in pain.

She dipped her hand in the running water and brought it to her parched mouth. Her mind was tuning itself to Darius's, automatically seeking him. She needed the contact. Tempest didn't know why, but if she didn't reach for him, find him, just for a moment, she knew she would be terrified. She needed him.

The idea of needing him alarmed her, but, unerringly, her mind had already found his. Giving it the lightest of touches, she was no more than a faint shadow sliding in, seeking the comfort of knowing he was alive and well, that he was sating his voracious hunger. Her heart pounded wildly for a moment. She withdrew immediately, annoyed with herself for needing him, annoyed that her first thought had been to wonder if he was seeking sustenance from a woman. She should have been concerned for his prey, not jealous of it, however momentarily.

Tempest blinked and refocused. Where was she? How had she gotten here? Nothing looked familiar. Where was the deer trail? She would follow it back to the boulder where she had promised to wait. "You did it again, Rusti," she chided herself under her breath, worried that Darius might touch her mind and feel her confusion. Slowly she straightened and took a good look around.

There was no deer trail in sight. "Why have you no sense of direction?" she muttered to herself, not wanting Darius to pick up her unspoken thoughts. She wasn't going to live this one down unless she could find her way back before he returned. She decided to follow the stream. She knew it ended at the falls several feet above the little clearing overlooking the cliffs. If she came out above the falls, she could climb down to the clearing. It all made perfect sense.

Breathing a sigh of relief, she began to walk briskly along the edge of the rapidly moving stream. The problem became apparent at once. The stream doubled back in several places, seeming to meander through the thickest parts of the forest. Brambles tore at her jeans, and the vegetation around her seemed to loom to jungle proportions.

As she moved steadily forward, the mournful note that had set her off in the first place seemed to increase. She knew she was close to whatever it was.

An animal in pain. She knew it with sudden clarity. A large animal, and it was suffering terribly. It was wounded, the laceration infected, and the paw hurt when pressed onto the ground as it attempted to walk. It was broadcasting loudly, the vibrations in the night air finding her a ready recipient.

It wasn't as if the animal was making actual noise; it was more that Tempest had always been able to communicate with animals, and she could hear, in her head, a silent scream of pain. She tried to ignore it, even took several more steps along the bank of the stream, but the animal's distress level was overwhelming. "I can't just leave the darn thing," she argued. "It could be caught in a trap. One of those awful steel things that crush an animal's leg and make it die a hideous death. I'd be as guilty as whoever put the stupid trap out in the first place." She was already turning back, resolutely following the vibrations in her head.

She had no actual warning that she was practically on top of the animal until she parted some bushes and saw a large mountain lion crouched above her on a rocky ledge. Its yellow eyes stared down at her with malevolence. The cat was heavily muscled, a bit on the thin side, and broadcasting as much hunger as pain. Why hadn't she caught that before?

Tempest sank her teeth into her lower lip in agitation. Okay. This was it. The last straw. She was going to be in so much trouble when Darius found out about this one. The cougar was staring at her, frozen in place, only the tip of its tail flicking back and forth. Tempest thought about running, but she knew the animal would definitely attack her if she was that stupid. She reached for the cat's mind.

Hunger. Anger. The cougar was moody and in pain. There was something in its paw, something sticking in and hurting each time it tried to hunt. The cat had tried to bite and gnaw it out but had been unsuccessful. The cat had not eaten in several days, and hunger was riding it hard. And now it was staring at easy prey with obvious satisfaction.

Tempest tried to soothe the cougar, tried to send the impression that she would help. She could remove the painful thorn; she could provide fresh meat. The yellow eyes continued to stare at her, an eerie portent of death. Tempest forced her mind away from the possibility of an attack and continued to send impressions of aid to the cat. She kept the fear from her mind so the animal would not leap at her.

The cougar shook its head, puzzled. Tempest sensed confusion, a need to feed, yet the animal found her strange, unfamiliar, perplexing. The mountain lion needed the thorn out, and Tempest concentrated on that. Images of the thorn removed, the paw healed. If she didn't help the creature, it would remain unable to hunt, and it would perish. The cougar was young, a female; she could reproduce. Tempest knew the cat was extremely dangerous; hunger and pain could force any animal to strike out. But it just wasn't in her to walk away without trying to help. She had managed to control large dogs. Once a tiger at a zoo had bonded with her.

She stood quietly, watching the animal closely for signs of acceptance. She had infinite patience. Hers was a God-given gift, and she believed in it implicitly. Others might call her a freak, but she knew she could help animals, really help them at times like this. She spoke quietly, soothingly in her mind, sending images of the thorn out, the paw feeling so much better. She swamped the cat with the images, kept the animal off balance.

Most cats were curious by nature, and this big one was no different. It snarled silently, but the resolve in its head to kill and feed instantly was fading. It wanted the terrible thorn out, the pain to be gone. Tempest pressed her advantage, sought to expand her mental images and vibrations of goodwill. The cat became more relaxed, the yellow eyes squinting, not so fixed and merciless.

Tempest allowed herself to breathe more deeply and moved cautiously closer, her gaze flicking to the sore paw. It was quite swollen and pustulent. "Poor baby," she crooned softly. "We need to take that thing out of there for you." All the while she built the images of the cat accepting her extracting the thorn. "It might hurt, so I'm thinking we should decide up front that you won't lose your mind and eat me. In the long run, it would be far better for you if you just let me take the thing out." She was quite close now, close enough to touch the animal.

The wound was worse than she first thought; infection had really taken hold. It was possible she couldn't help the poor thing. Tempest sighed. She didn't want to give up. There was always a chance that if she could remove the foreign object embedded so deeply in the paw, the cat might survive. It was more accepting of her, curious that she could communicate, that she understood its pain and hunger, overcoming, for the moment, its desire and need to eat.

Deliberately Tempest shifted her focus, instinctively knowing that when the cougar felt the intense pain as she removed the object, it would want to lash out at whatever was closest. She amplified its feelings of curiosity. "Unfortunately, baby, that's me. Don't you think I'm rather interesting? You haven't seen too many like me around, have you?" Tempest crooned softly. Taking a deep breath, she bent her head to examine the vicious wound, for the first time trusting to luck as she took her eyes off the face of the cat.

Terror.
Sheer, unadulterated terror. There was no other word to describe his emotion. Darius could feel his heart pounding so hard that it was in danger of exploding out of his chest. He had left Tempest sitting peacefully on a boulder by the waterfall. Why had he expected her to be sitting there still? Into the terror crept the realization that he hadn't really expected it. He knew her too well. Trouble followed her around. No, it was more than that. She sought it out.

Anger. Black and terrible. A ferocious wave of rage that threatened to consume him. He fought it down and remained very still, becoming a part of the night itself, as only he could do. His hot inner gaze never left the mountain lion, watching for the first sign of aggression. He knew how fast a cougar could move. Injured, this one was even more dangerous. He could kill it from where he stood. He could seize control of the animal, hold it helpless while she worked. He had options. He was even fast enough that he could remove Tempest from danger long before she or the lion knew he was even close. He did none of those things. Darius listened to her voice. Soft. Soothing. Its style reminiscent of the healer's chant. She was actually talking the cougar into allowing her to aid it.

Pride.
It welled up in him out of nowhere. Sheer pride. She was frightened by the situation, just as she was frightened by his power, by his wild, untamed nature. Yet she was determined to save the beast. Darius was in her mind, a dark shadow staying still and quiet so he didn't distract her, yet he was there, and her focus was absolute. She was determined to give the cat a chance at survival.

Something in him he hadn't known existed, something long buried or forgotten, welled up, strong and overwhelming. The emotion was so intense that he shook with the revelation.
Love.
If he had not loved her for herself before, he knew he did now. He had walked through his barren existence feeling no real meaning other than to protect and preserve his little family. She had given him deeper purpose and life, a joyful reason to move through the world, to exist. He admired her courage even as he silently swore she would never defy him again, never again place herself in danger this way.

He admired her. The revelation was amazing to him. He admired the way she went through life accepting people as they were without judgment, without expectations. He admired her tremendous courage, her sense of humor. What was the best way to help her? Darius studied the situation carefully. The cougar was definitely unpredictable, afraid, in pain, and hungry. Immediately Darius begin to add his mental strength to Tempest's. It gave her additional control over the beast.

When I remove the thorn, Darius, can you rid the poor thing of the infection!
Despite the fact that she was holding rigid control of the animal, her voice was soft but firm in his mind.

He should have known she would sense his presence immediately. The lightest of his touches brought her attention. She was tuned to him now, her mind and body, her heart and soul. He had bound them together. She could find him much more easily than before. And she was sensitive, far more so than most humans he had come into contact with. Still, she held her focus on the injured animal. She was amazing.

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