Dark Melody (12 page)

"I'm flattered," he said, catching her small hand in his. "So tell me what you know of our band."

She shrugged casually. "You play guitar, as does Barack. Syndil plays the drums and just about any other instrument. Desari is your lead singer, and she has an amazing voice. You sing only when the mood strikes you or if a particular song warrants it. My guess is, you both write the lyrics to your songs." She smiled up at him. "And your music is awesome, although there are a few others who are right up there with you." She looked down at her fingernails. "Legends."

His eyebrows shot up. "Who? Name a legend."

"In what category? I like rock and roll myself."

"Rock and roll?" There was a slight sneer in his voice. "Who would you consider a legend in rock and roll? Tread carefully, your reputation is on the line."

"What year are we talking here? In the fifties there was so much going on. If you're going to be all snobby about modern rock and roll, we can raise the stakes and talk blues or jazz. Surely you'll admit there are legends in blues and jazz."

"I'll concede that point to you, but you can't start looking in the fifties. The origins of rock and roll began long before the fifties. Have you listened to the tribal music and the original beats coming out of Africa?"

She grinned at him, one eyebrow shooting up. "Surely you aren't testing me, thinking I don't know my music history. That isn't the point. Do you honestly think there aren't legends from the fifties and sixties?"

"Maybe the Dark Troubadours," he mused, his black eyes laughing at her wickedly.

"Excuse me, Mr. Legend, what about Louis Armstrong? Do
not
make the mistake of turning up your nose at him. Muddy Waters, for heaven's sake, and BB King, he's awesome. He just has such presence. And Stevie Ray Vaughn. I could name several others."

"You are only supposed to think of me as a legend."

He meant to tease her, but as he bent his dark head toward her passionate little face, his gaze found her lips and his heart nearly stopped. He closed the small gap between them, fastening his mouth on hers, taking her breath and giving her air. The earth stopped moving for him. The world dissolved and there was only Corinne in his mind, in his arms. His eyes burned strangely, his body hardened like a rock, his stomach did a curious somersault, and his heart simply melted. There was everything in her kiss. Passion and fire. Exquisite tenderness. A promise. Dayan lifted his head before it was too late to pull back.

Corinne blinked up at him, clearly bemused. "How do you do that?"

"You and I are lifemates…"

"Lifemates?" Corinne echoed. The word was beautiful and implied something permanent and binding. She wondered if it was an interpretation of a term from his native language. She had heard him use the word several times before.

His black eyes moved over her face in a serious, intent study. His gaze was brooding. Incredibly sexy. "Lifemates," he affirmed. "Married, but more. Married as in an eternal commitment."

"That's a beautiful concept, Dayan, but don't most people think they'll be married for all time?" His eyes reminded her of a great jungle cat. There was a burning intensity about him when he looked at her. Deep inside her there was an answering need, calling out for him alone.

His hand capturing hers, he tugged gently until her small body was pressed up against his. "You are my lifemate, Corinne. I recognized you the moment I laid eyes on you. I know you are the light to my darkness, that your soul is the other half of my own. Each of the members of my family has found a lifemate. Barack and Syndil were meant for one another. Desari's lifemate is Julian. Darius has Tempest, and I am amazed I found you. I had no hope that you existed."

Corinne ducked her head. Dayan believed every word he said. They barely knew one another, yet he was so certain. He almost made her believe they had a future together. She knew better; she knew her heart was deteriorating. Dayan had slowed the inevitable by whatever he had done the night before, but she knew her heart would never last beyond the birth of her child. She was already worn, her heart laboring and her lungs struggling. "I like all of your names," she said, determined to change the direction of their conversation. "Are they stage names or your actual names?"

Dayan smiled without humor. "We change many things about ourselves, but we have always kept the names we were given at birth."

Mysterious secrets were locked behind his extraordinary eyes. His eyes looked old, as if he had seen far too many things. There was a quiet strength in the sculpted features of his face. At times he could look quite young, and at others, older and more worn. His body could be so still, not even revealing he was breathing, yet when he chose to move, he was so fast that if she blinked she missed the actual movement. Dayan. He filled her mind as no one had ever done. He gave her dreams she dared not have.

Corinne touched his face with gentle fingers, sorrow for him welling up so that it overwhelmed her. She had thought to warn him, to allow him to make his own decision regarding their relationship, but he was breaking her heart. "Don't do this, Dayan. Don't build your dreams around me. I'm so afraid for you. You deserve to be happy. I want you happy. Don't be like Lisa. She wants a miracle." The pad of her index finger outlined his perfect lips. "I don't want to cause you pain. I really don't."

"I believe in miracles, Corinne. I found you. I have traveled the world for more years than you can possibly conceive, and never once did I hope for such a thing. Yet you are real. You walked right through the door of that bar. You came to me when I was certain my time was running out. I know there are miracles. Each one of our males who finds his lifemate knows there are such things as miracles. We have had this discussion before, but you refuse to listen. You are not going to die. I want you to believe that, Corinne. Start believing that."

Corinne sighed softly and looked away from the hungry intensity of his eyes. He could convince anyone with that compelling look. She wanted to be convinced, to think that she might have a chance at a future with her child and a man she felt passionate about. The thought came unbidden, and at once she slammed the door on it. She didn't really know Dayan at all. Would she still be feeling the same way in a month? Two months? Would Dayan even want her around after a month or two? She knew absolutely nothing about him except that he was a musician who drifted from town to town with his band.

'A brilliant musician. A legend of a musician.'
Dayan corrected her thoughts, his black eyebrow slanting up as she tried to convince herself she didn't want him. "Get it right, Corinne. You know more of me than that. You know I do not chase women, that I am protective. You must know I am honest and trustworthy."

"The ultimate Boy Scout, who eavesdrops on other people's thoughts," she reprimanded even as she wondered why it didn't embarrass her that he knew what she was thinking. She arced one eyebrow at him in a small taunt. "Pregnant women often think sexual thoughts, so don't flatter yourself."

"I am only interested in the sexual thoughts of one pregnant woman. It is only natural that you would be sexually attracted to me, Corinne. If you were not, it would be a difficult merging for us. But you are my true lifemate, and I intend to claim you as my own for all time. I think sex should hold a place in our relationship." He grinned boyishly at her. "A very important place. That is how it is supposed to be."

She found herself reluctantly smiling. "You sound so certain, so matter-of-fact, as if none of the obstacles matter at all."

"Of course they do not matter. We
must
be together, we are meant to be. You feel it too, Corinne, I know you do. We do not have a choice. If you accept that we must be together, than we will find a way for it to be so."

She looked away from the intensity in his glittering eyes. "I think you really must be a poet, Dayan. You believe in romance. Real life does not necessarily mirror poetry. All of us die, some just go a little sooner than others. My body is wearing out faster than it should. I was born that way, and I've always known it would happen. According to the doctors, I shouldn't have lived beyond my fourteenth birthday. I'm luckier than others who were born like me. That is reality." He was giving her a headache by refusing to accept the seriousness of her illness.

He gave her a gentle little shake because he couldn't help himself. "I would like to tell you about the reality of my life, Corinne, what I have experienced without you, but you are not ready for such a confession. In the meantime I think we should talk to Lisa and Cullen and begin our journey tonight. We have a great distance to travel."

Corinne shook her head. "We can't just pick up and leave. We have a life we've worked very hard for, Dayan. Lisa's profession demands she be available when she's needed."

Dayan's black eyes moved over her face, brooding, moody, with a hint of menace she found disconcerting. There was something undefined about him that she couldn't quite name; it made her feel afraid.

'Not afraid. You should never fear me. I could never harm you, Corinne. I will do everything in my power to see to your protection. And my powers are considerable.'
He had shifted into the much more intimate communication of lifemates almost automatically. Dayan's arm circled her slender shoulders, held her very close in the moonlight. She was fragile, delicate, her bones small. Unexpectedly, fear slammed into him along with a kind of helpless fury. He needed a healer fast; he needed to find a way to gently steer her in the direction he wanted her to go. If necessary, he would use his telepathic ability to persuade her, but it was against his code of honor to influence his own lifemate in such a way.

"It's the way you look sometimes, Dayan," Corinne said with a small self-mocking laugh. "You can look very intimidating when you choose." She smiled up at him, her fingertips going up to smooth the hard edge from his sensually sculpted lips. "Like now, when you aren't getting your way."

His black eyes burned over her face. "I will always get my way, honey, when it comes to protecting you. I do not think there is a rational argument you can make about this. Lisa will not care much for her job if you are dead. You are capable of writing songs anywhere. I also know that you are far more frightened than you are letting on and you agree with me that we should protect Lisa despite her refusal to accept how grave your situation is."

"Is this what it's going to be like with you?" Corinne sent him a smoldering look of warning from under her long lashes. "I don't like you reading my mind."

"You will soon be reading mine," he answered without censoring his thoughts.

Corinne raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm just supposed to suddenly acquire the ability to be telepathic? Does it rub off on people when you're around them too much?"

Dayan shrugged again. "We will have to see, Corinne." His hand moved up and down her arms to warm her. "You are getting cold out here."

"It's beautiful, though. I hate to be indoors at night. The sky always looks so incredible." Corinne laughed softly. "Of course, I feel that way during the day too. I love to look at clouds. Lisa drives like a maniac, but she says I'm worse because I can't keep my eyes off the sky." She looked up at him. "I don't want to miss anything, you know? The world is such a beautiful place; I want to see as much of it as I can." She walked a little further along the pavement. "Where are you from originally? You have an accent, but I can't place it."

"I have traveled so much over the years I do not know if my way of speaking reflects any one place. I speak several languages. But I was born in the Carpathian Mountains in Europe. I spent most of my younger years in Africa."

"How interesting. What did your parents do?"

"I was a mere boy when they were killed. Darius raised us, the band members. We were all children, and we grew up a little wild." Dayan smiled at her, his teeth very white in the darkness. "I think we are still a little wild."

Corinne allowed him to lace his fingers through hers, though she wasn't altogether certain why. A part of her wanted to be realistic and strong, while the other, more treacherous side whispered of temptation, whispered she should enjoy his company while she could. "So Darius is much older than you are?"

"Darius is an extraordinary individual. He was six years old when our parents were killed. I was four. He kept us alive." He waved his hand, the movement graceful as he dismissed the past. "It was a long time ago."

Corinne reached up to rub his jaw with the palm of her hand. "You sound so sad, Dayan. It couldn't have been that long ago. Was your childhood difficult?"

"It was an adventure, Corinne, unlike yours. Remember, all of us are telepathic, and we are used to our differences. It was a wild, fun, very exciting time. Tell me about your childhood. I know bits and pieces through your memories, but you have locked most of it behind a heavy door I do not wish to open without permission."

They walked together unhurriedly along the pavement. Dayan seemed to glide beside her, making no noise. If she hadn't felt the security of his large frame brushing hers and his hand wrapped around her fingers, she would not have known he was beside her. In a way it was reassuring, yet it was also eerie to feel such raw power and stealth in him. "You aren't like everyone else." She said it quietly, intuitively.

There was a small silence, the space of several heartbeats. "I am from an ancient lineage," he admitted softly. "I have gifts, special gifts granted to me."

She smiled in the darkness. "I am very glad we met, Dayan. There is something wonderful and beautiful about you. When I'm with you I feel as if I could go on forever. The words to your songs and the beautiful music you play are exceptional. I love the sound of your voice, speaking or singing."

He curled her hand against his chest, so that she could feel his heart beating strongly beneath her skin, right through his shirt. She could feel the heat of his skin, the call of his masculine body as his muscles moved subtly. Above her head, Dayan smiled, his smile slightly wolfish. "You are deliberately trying to direct the conversation away from your childhood." He was secretly pleased by the sincerity he detected in her mind. He had placed no compulsion on Corinne, nothing to enhance her feelings for him. He was relying on the fact that she was his true lifemate, yet he had not bound her to him with the ritual words. He feared their forced parting during the daylight hours might be too difficult for her strained heart.