Dark Challenge

Chapter Thirteen

The crowd was enormous. Julian inhaled deeply, allowing the air to tell him every story. The smell of excitement, of sweat, of rising tempers, and lust. It was all in the breath he drew into his lungs. He was looking out for danger to his lifemate. His amber eyes inspected the huge throng pushing to get into the building. He found himself tense, his every inclination to keep Desari far from these humans. He could hear myriad conversations even as he was scanning innumerable minds. Human security guards were using metal detectors on the people entering, but still he was uneasy.

Julian caught sight of Darius. He was an imposing figure, moving silently and swiftly through the crowd, his black eyes icy, piercing the crush of humans restlessly, in unceasing motion. He was every bit as alert as Julian, determined to protect his sister at all costs. Dayan, although he played in the band, was at a side entrance, as on guard as the others. Barack roamed inside the building, mingling with the crowd to add further insurance to Desari’s safety. Both musicians were projecting images unrecognizable to the public.

The two leopards, Sasha and Forest, were locked in one of the rooms provided for the band members. Syndil, too, had taken her usual form of a female leopard and waited with the other cats. Julian wanted to protest the action, aware of the sadness in Desari at Syndil’s withdrawal from reality. Julian had noticed that Barack was very edgy around all of them. He often placed his body squarely between the other males and Syndil. Clearly the terrible attack on her had shaken the males’ faith in one another. With the assassins making their attempt on Desari and vampires threatening them for their women, the men were all on edge.

Darius paused briefly beside him. “Anything?”

Julian shook his head. “Nothing but a feeling of uneasiness. I do not like this, Desari exposed to all these humans.”

“There will be no mistakes made this time,” Darius said softly, confidently. “There will be no further attempts on my sister’s life.”

Julian had to respect the man’s total conviction. It was difficult not to believe in Darius, power clung to him like a second skin. There would be no chances taken this night. Julian nodded at Darius and continued pacing among the humans, scanning minds, listening to the conversations around him. To his left a fight erupted between two men. Pushing and shoving, voices raised. But the human security personnel were there instantly, escorting the scufflers away from the building. Julian could detect no animosity toward his lifemate, so he ignored the incident, not wanting to be distracted from his primary task of protecting Desari.

Desari was in the dressing room, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She liked to put it on herself in the human manner. It soothed her somehow before she went on stage. It was also her habit before each concert to scan the minds of the crowd, and try to find those in need so that she could pick the songs most suited to healing and helping. It was important to her to seek the mood of the audience, listen for what they wanted to hear, their favorite ballads or the haunting new melodies she could produce. She liked to know which people had come to more than one of her concerts, who had traveled long distances to see her perform. Sometimes after her shows she would seek out those who had traveled far or often to hear her sing and introduce herself to them and chat.

For the most part, the crowd was eager, moving restlessly, excitedly, in their seats, eager to hear her sing. Desari tuned them out in order to prepare herself for the stage. At once her mind, of its own accord, sought Julian. She smiled as she felt an instant flood of warmth, strong arms surrounding her.

Julian was not thrilled with her family

unit

, as he called them, nor were they all that happy with him, but no one was snarling at each other. To his credit, Julian hadn’t made even a single protest when she entered the theater to dress for her concert.

You are the lifemate of a sensitive, modern male.

Julian’s lazy amusement warmed her further, confirming what she already suspected, that he often stayed a shadow in her mind.

How fortunate for me.

Desari smiled at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair cascaded in waves down her back. There was a sparkle in her eyes. She knew Julian had made her feel more alive than she had ever been.

Sensitive, modern men are so to my liking. Men? I am certain I did not hear my lifemate use the word

men.

The plural. No man is allowed to be to your liking other than myself.

He sounded stern, the fierce Carpathian male at his most menacing.

Desari laughed aloud.

I suppose I can see your point, Julian, but really, it is so difficult to keep from noticing all of those handsome hunks in the audience. Handsome hunks?

His voice dropped low with the affront.

They are more like lovesick fops. If they could feel the vibrations in the air, they would show sense and run for their lives. It is bad enough to read their fantasies and hear them talk their trash,

cara,

but it is altogether worse to hear that my woman is looking back. One smile at the wrong man, lifemate, and trouble will find the man quickly. You sound jealous,

she accused him, amusement curving her soft mouth.

The first rule for all women to know and never forget is that Carpathian males do not share their lifemates. Your brother has much to answer for that this was not drilled into you since birth. It was his job to prepare you for my coming.

It was said somewhere between jest and complaint.

Desari drew in her breath sharply, finding herself wavering between laughter and exasperation.

My brother had no idea of your existence, you arrogant male. Besides, how could he possibly prepare me for your total ignorance of women? More likely, had he known you were coming to speak your ritual words, he would have been waiting to ambush you. I myself would have burrowed deep within the ground until you passed beyond my surroundings. You would have burst from the ground straight into my arms,

cara mia,

and you know this to be true.

Now he was laughing, that smug, taunting, male amusement that should have set her teeth on edge but instead made her laugh.

I think you are trying to find something to dictate to me about just so you do not lose your ability. Go away and practice this male art form on someone else. You will be singing to me tonight,

piccola, and to

no other man. You are a spoiled little boy, not a grown man. Should I come show you what a grown man I am?

His voice was suddenly low and warm, so sexy she felt a rush of answering heat. She could feel the brush of his fingers against her throat, trailing down the valley between her suddenly aching breasts.

Go away, Julian,

she laughed in answer.

I cannot have you getting me hot and bothered just now. As long as I know you are hot and bothered for me, I will do as you request and go back to work. I can only hope.

Desari heard the familiar steps coming up to her door, Dayan knocking loudly with his usual five-minute warning. She knew Barack would be checking one last time on Syndil. Excitement was setting in, the quick rush right before she walked out onto the stage.

Desari paced across the floor once or twice, ridding her body of unused adrenaline. The second knock came three minutes later. Julian and Darius stood on the other side of the door, their eyes and minds continually scanning every inch of the building and the audience. Desari felt small wedged between the two larger bodies, suddenly aware of the potential danger to herself. That someone wanted her dead for reasons unknown was shocking to her. She moved closer to Julian for protection.

He touched her arm in a gentle caress, nothing more demonstrative, his mind obviously filled with security measures, tuned to the air around them. Yet Desari instantly felt comforted and safe. Dayan and Barack were waiting to enter the stage with her. As they moved forward, the roar of the crowd drowned out every other sound.

Julian began to pace the perimeters of the building, taking his time, getting a feel for the audience. He knew every nook and cranny of the interior, every possible hiding place, every entrance and exit. He knew every position, high or low, that a sniper could utilize. His gaze continually swept the areas that provided the most cover for an assailant.

In the recent past he had watched over Mikhail and Raven’s daughter, Savannah, while she performed magic shows during the five years of freedom Gregori had allotted her before he claimed her as his lifemate. Several times her human security people had to prevent over-eager men from rushing the stage to meet her. But Julian had kept his presence a secret there only to fight off the vampires who often stalked her without her knowledge. He had not had to handle the humans attracted to her.

This was different. Desari’s voice itself was a lure, an enticement to all who heard it. And she was so beautiful up there on the stage, her long dress flowing fluidly around her slender figure one moment, then hugging her body the next. Her ebony hair glittered in the light and cascaded in waves down her back, brushing her shoulders and breasts, her waist and hips. She was irresistible.

Julian felt his breath catch in his throat. She awed him. The way she moved, the way her perfect soul shone so brightly for all to see. Desari was beautiful not only on the outside but also on the inside, and it showed. She was, literally, breathtaking. He dragged his gaze away from her, forcing his mind to remain alert, to scan for trouble.

Desari’s voice poured into the air and flowed through the concert hall. The silence of the crowd was complete. No shuffling in seats, not even soft murmurs. The audience was spellbound. There was enchantment in her voice, a soft, misty blend of laughter and tears, haunting, evoking memories, creating hopes. Feelings of deep, abiding love welled up in those listening. Older audience members recalled every wonderful moment with their spouse—holding hands, making love, creating children, their joy in being together as both lovers and parents. The younger ones dreamed of their perfect partners, that first sighting, the first touch, the first kiss. Couples growing apart were reminded of their vows and the love they felt for one another before resentments began to eat away at them.

Desari’s voice gave them all comfort and hope. Julian was amazed at her power. She was not adding compulsion; she simply possessed a gift that was a treasure to the world. His pride in her grew with each song. It was as if instinctively she sensed what was needed by certain individuals or the group and was able to deliver it.

Julian turned toward the area just in front of the stage, a shadow creeping slowly but surely into his mind. At once he signaled Darius, who was closer. Darius was already moving, directing security in the same direction. Dayan and Barack closed in on Desari immediately, moving so quickly they were nearly a blur, placing their bodies squarely in front of her while two men clambered onto the stage. Slightly drunk, they reeled toward the band members. They had taken no more than two steps before a wall of security guards had them in custody and were ushering them out of the hall.

Desari’s voice was soft with laughter, an invitation for the crowd to join her. “Poor boys, they have no idea what just hit them. But because of an unfortunate incident recently, my security people are treating me as if I were gold. Please bear with them.”

She held the crowd in the palm of her hand. Julian could not believe how easily she did it, softly excusing the two overexuberant fans, teasing about her security guards, and making light of her vulnerability and her celebrity status.

Unfortunately, the shadow remained in Julian’s mind. He glanced at Darius, whose dark eyes were as cold as ice. Darius shook his head slightly to indicate the danger to Desari was not past. The two of them began to move in opposite directions, circling the huge theater, covering ground slowly, scanning as they did so. Something was not quite right. Both felt it. Dayan and Barack felt it, too. There faces were expressionless, but they stayed positioned protectively near Desari, and their eyes moved restlessly, unceasingly, all of them seeking the source of that shadow.

The Carpathians on stage continued to play, and Desari’s voice was more beautiful than ever, weaving such an enchantment on all within hearing that it was difficult for Julian to keep his attention fully on her protection.

Something malignant was infiltrating the building. It was such a soft, slow flow of tainted air it was barely discernible. Julian tried to find its direction. He had already scanned the crowd several times, and knew there was no real threat from that direction. It was something far more powerful.

Nosferatu

. The undead.

Desari and Syndil had to be the reason vampires were frequenting these parts even with Julian’s brother, Aidan, living so close by. Aidan was a hunter renowned for his skills, yet lately this area seemed to be overrun with the undead. Julian could see no reason for it other than the presence of the two Carpathian females. Few would be aware that Desari had been claimed, and to a vampire, it hardly mattered. The undead were so arrogant, so bloated with their own power, they were certain they could gain possession of any woman for themselves.

Julian’s gaze, a glint of glittering gold, shifted back to the stage. Barack suddenly stumbled on a note, his head going up alertly. At the same time, Julian felt the wash of hideous power pouring into the air around them, rushing toward the band’s dressing rooms. Automatically, he blurred himself, streaking through the concert hall, as did Darius. But it was Barack who beat them both to the room where the leopards waited. Behind them, as if by design, Dayan went into a lively melody, his voice and guitar accompanying Desari, so that the audience went wild, clapping and stomping their approval.

It took both Darius and Julian to restrain Barack before he burst through the closed door. He snarled at them, his fangs savage, eyes red hot with killing rage. It was Darius who spoke to him, using the family’s peculiar mental path that Julian was slowly becoming familiar with. The order was velvet soft, soothing, a promise of protection for Syndil. Barack took a calming breath and nodded his reluctant acquiescence, relaxing beneath the grip of the two hunters.

Julian dissolved immediately, flowing beneath the door into the room as tiny molecules in the air. The three leopards were pacing restlessly, low warning growls rumbling deep in their throats. He tried to touch their minds but found chaos and anger, the mood dangerous to any that might enter the room. Syndil had deliberately buried herself deep within the body of the leopard she had assumed to prevent the one who sought her from telling her apart from the other two real specimens. She paced along with them, every bit as moody and dangerous, raging in her mind at the evil threatening them. Even he could not tell which female was actually Syndil and which was the genuine leopard; he did not yet know her well enough to discern her spirit from where she had it buried so deeply within the spirit of the leopard.

Julian felt Darius’s power filling the room, knew the moment he reached to calm the prowling leopards. The vampire was close, too close, stalking Syndil, but the undead was projecting his whereabouts from all directions so neither Darius or Julian could get a firm fix on his location. They waited with the patience of ancient hunters, still, calm, simply waiting for the moment when the aggressor must make his move.

The impact slamming against the door was tremendous, a huge bulging spreading inward. The door itself blackened even as thunder shook the building. A part of Julian remained connected to Desari, determined to always ensure her safety. She was easily holding the audience, projecting calm, her voice soothing as she sang a haunting ballad, Dayan accompanying her on the guitar. Dayan and the security people were close around her, the human guards uncertain how Barack had disappeared from the stage. No one had quite caught his exit. Yet they stayed close to Desari, directed by Julian without their knowledge. Desari and Dayan were incredibly smooth, Desari now perched on a high stool in the middle of the stage, her long dress flowing around her in graceful folds. Dayan played the soft, mesmerizing music on his guitar while the beauty of Desari’s voice continued to fill the concert hall.

The leopards were pacing restlessly now, the male twice throwing himself at the door in agitation. Julian streamed back to the other side of the door, pouring out into the hallway with a rush of cold air. He knew Darius would stay behind to protect Syndil.

On the other side of the door Barack was in a fierce battle with a tall, gaunt stranger. The evil one had red-rimmed eyes and a vicious slash for a mouth. He raked at Barack with sharp claws, aiming for the jugular, but Barack eluded the quick strike and was ramming straight into the chest of the emaciated vampire. His fangs tore at the throat even as his hand bore straight to the heart. Easygoing Barack seemed lost in the ferocious beast that had taken his place.

Julian sought the man’s mind and found a red haze of hatred and rage, directed not only at this vampire but at the one who had so violently attacked Syndil and left her so withdrawn. It took a few moments to find the mental path that Desari’s family shared with one another.

Do not drink his blood, Barack. He is dead already. You have destroyed him. The blood is tainted.

Julian spoke softly into the mind of one gone mad with rage.

Do not interfere. He lives.

When Julian glided toward the struggling pair, Barack roared a warning, a growl that shook the hall. Julian stopped at once, not in the least surprised when Darius materialized at his side.

“Do not, Barack.” Darius’s voice was a soft menace. “You cannot drink as he dies. Not in the rage you are in. Release him and allow him to fall away from you.”

Barack lifted his head, his fangs stained red, his eyes glowing hotly. The heart was flung aside, still pulsing wickedly. The rumbling grew louder, a clear warning to back away from him.

Darius and Julian glanced at one another with the same thought. If they joined together, they could force Barack to obedience, but he would never trust nor respect either of them again. Barack was definitely dangerous, and neither wanted to alienate him. He was a Carpathian male, and it was his right to do as he was doing, protect the females in his family unit. Protect any female of their race. Not only his right but his duty.

Julian reached for the leopards’ minds and found Syndil nestled in the smaller female cat’s body.

Barack is in danger. We cannot reach him. You must do it. Call to him. Do it now before it is too late and he is lost to us for all eternity. He cannot consume the blood of the thing he is killing.

Julian felt Syndil’s immediate alarm. At once she shape-shifted, taking her human form, her slender, shapely figure shorter than Desari’s but radiating the same inner light and beauty of the Carpathian female. She moved with fluid, elegant grace, her dark, expressive eyes touching him, then jumping away hastily as she gave him a wide berth. Her gasp was audible as she surveyed the bloody, violent scene in the hallway and the darkness so close to the surface in Barack, his own face nearly that of the beast within the Carpathian male. Darius was close to the undead, close enough to distract Barack from feasting on its blood. Still, power and rage ate at the younger Carpathian, allowing the beast within to take over his mind, so that all that was left was instinct and fury.

Without hesitation, Syndil approached Barack. “Do not step in the blood,” Darius cautioned her, his dark eyes watchful. If Barack made one wrong move toward Syndil, there was no doubt in Julian’s mind that Barack would be a dead man. Syndil was unafraid, ignoring both Darius and Julian as if they were invisible.

“Barack,” she whispered softly, almost intimately. Her eyes were on the savage crimson streaks on his chest and face. “Come with me now. I have need to heal your wounds.” Despite his ferocious growls, she laid her hand gently on Barack’s arm, careful to stay away from the blood coating his clothing. “Come with me, brother. Allow me to heal you.”

Barack’s head swung around, red eyes glowing fiercely. For a moment his eyes switched between red and black, as if the man fought the beast within for their shared body and mind. “I am not your brother, little one,” he hissed, struggling to overcome the killing rage.

For a moment Syndil hung her head, as if his words denying their relationship had cut her deeply. Then she stepped closer to him, so that her soft body brushed against his larger frame. Barack’s hands immediately, instinctively, spanned her small waist and lifted her away from the thick pool of blood spreading across the floor. The moment he released the vampire, the body of the undead fell, thrashing around, head flopping and talons digging long, deep furrows into the wall.

“Barack, do not touch Syndil’s skin with tainted blood on your hands,” Darius cautioned with his black-velvet authority.

Julian was already gathering energy into his palms, taking it from the electricity in the air itself, rolling it into a ball to send it flaming into the vampire’s pulsating heart so that there was no chance of the undead rising again. The sparks then jumped from the incinerated organ to the blood, reducing the thick pool of curling black ashes.

Barack reluctantly allowed Syndil’s feet to touch the floor far from the hideous scene. He was breathing hard, struggling to gain control of the beast within, ashamed that Syndil should see him so out of control. At Julian’s gesture he held out his hands so that the flames danced for a moment over his stained skin, burning the tainted blood from his hands and arms. Barack took possession of the white-hot ball of energy and ran it around Syndil’s waist where he had touched her, cleansing her of any tainted blood staining her clothes. He tossed the fire back to Julian before turning his entire attention to the woman who had shown so much courage.

“Are you hurt?” Syndil asked him softly, ignoring the other two Carpathians as if they didn’t exist. Her fingertips brushed Barack’s arm, and she tried not to show how his denial of their relationship distressed her. If he chose, after all these years, to reject the ties between them, she was not going to let him see how bad it made her feel. She could only suspect it was because Savon had raped her, and Barack could not accept her anymore. Perhaps he thought she had brought the assault on herself in some way. Barack had not been the same since the attack on her. He had spent a great deal of time in the ground avoiding her and the others. Now he seemed sober and stern, so unlike his earlier, easygoing self. He watched her like a hawk, almost as if he didn’t trust her, or as if she were a fledgling not to be trusted to care for herself properly. She wanted to weep and run off and hide again, but something in her refused to leave Barack in such a state, with so many lacerations.

Syndil lifted her chin but refused to meet his eyes. “Let me heal you, Barack. It will take but a few minutes.”

Finally he took her elbow and led her away from the other two men. Julian and Darius watched them walk off. Julian glanced down at the body of the vampire and then up at Darius. “I guess we have clean-up duty.” He directed the flames toward the undead. As he always did when the vampire destroyed was not the ancient he sought, he experienced a deep letdown.

But this time he wasn’t alone. From the concert hall Desari sent him warmth, love, her beautiful, haunting voice wrapping him up and holding him close to her heart.

Darius had been ensuring they were alone in the hallway, keeping humans away while Barack destroyed the vampire. “Barack has never before fought the undead. He has never even shown interest in hunting. Yet he was here before either of us.”

Julian nodded thoughtfully. “Is it really a surprise?”

Darius shrugged his broad shoulders. “Barack has always stayed close to Syndil. He often protects her. As young children they were inseparable. Lately, though, she is so withdrawn that no one can get close to her, not even Desari.”

“She spends far too much time in the form of the leopard. There is no way she will recover from her trauma if she does not face it,” Julian replied casually.

Darius nodded. “She trusts no man. It seems a miracle she answered your call and aided us in persuading Barack to leave the vampire to his fate. She does not like to be close to any of us males.”

“I do not think one can blame her,” Julian said distractedly. Already he felt the need to be with Desari. He could touch her mind at will, see what she was seeing through her eyes, look into her mind, but he was still uneasy without her in his actual sight. Desari standing so vulnerable in front of such a large crowd brought out the worst in him. His need to protect her was so incredibly strong, he found himself fighting his own deeply ingrained primitive instincts. He went quickly to the concert hall.

She was so beautiful, she took his breath away. He watched the way she moved, gentle and flowing, her hips swaying, her long hair cascading like waves of silk down her back to brush around her slender body, drawing attention to curves and hollows. He wanted to carry her off to some secluded spot for all time, out of danger, away from prying eyes. He wanted to listen to her voice for eternity and watch her smile and light up the spaces around her.

At once, even in the midst of her laughing softly into the microphone, seemingly totally bonded with the crowd, he felt the brush of her fingertips at the nape of his neck, and hot flames engulfed his gut and clenched his muscles so that he stood still, shocked at the power of her touch over him. He had spent an eternity feeling empty, a gaping hole in his very soul, so that what little compassion and gentleness he had once experienced had slowly seeped away, lost to him. She had brought back his emotions, his joy in life. He had always thought he might resent the need for a lifemate. He was a solitary hunter, enjoying the animals and nature more than the company of others. But it wasn’t so. Desari was a miracle to him.

There was a soft hiss in his mind, not the standard path Desari’s family unit communicated on but a private, new meeting of the minds. Power. Authority. Male. It could only be Darius. Their sharing of blood had forged a bond, allowing Darius to communicate easily with him at will.

Stop daydreaming. We have a job to do. My sister has you wrapped around her little finger. I notice

you

have not stopped her from pursuing this dangerous career she has chosen. It was you who allowed such nonsense in the first place.

Julian was more than happy to point that out. He was moving around the packed hall, his senses flaring out to read any signs of danger.

It is your decisions that should guide her now,

Darius replied.

Do not attempt to push your failures off on me. It will take much time to undo all the damage you have done with your permissive guidance. I will have to work slowly, without her knowledge, ease her out of this insane notion that she is allowed to make her own decisions.

Julian could not help the humor creeping into his voice. The last thing anyone could do would be to put something over on Desari. She was no fledgling to be pushed around by an arrogant male.

Barack returned to the stage, his long hair pulled back to the nape of his neck, his face unmarked and handsome, his clothes immaculate. Julian sensed Syndil’s presence in the hall, but she had made herself unseen to the human eye. It was Barack, looking sternly toward one corner of the stage, that tipped off her location to Julian. Barack had obviously dragged her there. Julian could tell he wasn’t about to perform unless Syndil was where he could see her every moment. She was sitting on the edge of the platform, slightly behind and to Barack’s right. She looked so sad, Julian felt an instant response, wanting to comfort her. Syndil appeared fragile and worn, a slight figure, almost childlike. Barack must have ordered her presence in such a way that she had chosen to obey him. Julian couldn’t blame him or any of the others for their protectiveness. This was an explosive situation, one not easily controlled. Protecting two women in such a large crowd from human assassins, overeager fans, and vampires was difficult. They needed the women close together where they all could watch over them.

We are not children,

Desari reminded him, taking her bow before the roaring crowd.

And Barack was quite harsh with Syndil. He should be more gentle with her. She didn’t provoke the vampire’s attack on her.

She smiled at the crowd, flashing the famous sexy grin that seemed to stop a few too many hearts for Julian’s peace of mind. Her arm gestured back gracefully toward the two male Carpathians onstage, including them in the standing ovation.

Several females in the front row screamed and waved at the two guitar players, one throwing herself against the ring of security guards, calling for Barack and tossing a pair of red silk panties in his direction. The underwear landed almost in Syndil’s lap. She picked them up gingerly by the tips of her thumb and forefinger, studied them for a moment, then, with absolutely no expression on her face, tossed them onto the neck of Barack’s guitar. To the audience, red panties seemed to fly straight up into the air at him. They roared with delight, coming to their feet once again.

Syndil rose with her casual grace and started off the stage. At once Barack moved, cutting off her retreat. To the audience it simply appeared as if he had stepped away from Dayan with his back to them, his hips swaying provocatively. Several girls screamed louder, trying to rush the stage. Barack played his guitar solo for several chords, the music swelling, cresting like a wave racing toward shore, then crashing onto the sand. The audience was electric with intensity, yet every Carpathian’s attention was on the scene taking place between the male and female.

Syndil glared at Barack, her body rigid with anger. Her eyes blazed at him. “You have no right to tell me what to do or where to go. As you pointed out earlier, you are not my brother. Darius is the leader, and he has not said that I must stay and watch you entertain these adoring women.” She waved a disdainful hand at the screaming row of girls.

“Do not push me this time, Syndil,” Barack warned softly, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. “I do not care what Darius has said or not said to you. You will not leave my sight until I know you are completely safe. In this matter you will obey me.”

For a moment Syndil faced him in silent rebellion. It was impossible to guess what she was going to decide to do.

“Please, Syndil,” Desari said softly, persuasively, “we have an audience. Do not give Barack any reason to go berserk on us.”

Syndil blinked once, her long lashes fanning her high cheekbones. Her large eyes moved over Barack with faint haughtiness. She swung her long hair over her shoulder and seated herself for the second set, her back to Barack. There was something regal about the way she held herself.

Barack finished his guitar solo, his body once more relaxed, but his eyes remained hard and watchful. Desari flashed a quick, relieved smile Julian’s way. Dayan’s guitar joined Barack’s and Desari’s voice soared into the air, bringing the spectators to their feet. Syndil began tapping her foot to the rhythm of the music. It was entirely involuntary, the first time she had responded to their music since the savage attack on her. She had always been musical, easily playing any instrument set before her, usually the keyboard and drums. The group had explained her absence to their fans by saying she had taken an extended vacation and would return soon.

Desari inwardly breathed a small sigh of relief. It was the first sign in a long while that Syndil might find a way to come back to them, to herself. Perhaps her love of music would bring her back. While her mind turned the matter over, her voice continued to keep the audience mesmerized. And it suddenly occurred to her that while she had had family close by all her life, Julian had been totally alone. To guard his brother in the best way he knew, to guard his people, he had been always alone.

Not anymore,

Julian drawled, his voice a purring caress.

As you are my responsibility now, I suppose I have no other choice but to help your brother protect and guide this pack of fools. What I should be doing is hauling your beautiful little butt out of here. The Carpathian Mountains are our homeland. It is where we all belong, not here among so many mortals.

In truth he was beginning to like the feeling of belonging to a family, of belonging to Desari.

Baby.

She whispered it in his mind like the stroke of her fingers along his skin. Teasing. Loving. Their own private world.

Julian swallowed hard. His face was a mask of indifference, aloof, his hard, watchful eyes surveying the crowd mercilessly, yet inside he was melting with the warmth only she could produce in him.