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has a beautiful voice."
"Desari is my younger sister. Recently she found her-" He broke off, then tempted her with another
spoonful of soup before continuing. "She found a man she loves very much. His name is Julian Savage. I
do not know him very well, and we sometimes have troublegetting along.I suspect we are rather alike,
and that is the problem."
"Bossy," Tempest supplied knowingly.
The black eyes rested possessively on her face. "What was that?"
This time she did grin. It hurt, but she couldn't stop herself. She suspected no one ever challenged or
teased this man. "You heard me."
His eyes burned suddenly with an intensity, with a dark, dangerous hunger that took her breath away,
that made her think of the leopards he kept as companions. She pulled her gaze from his. "Keep talking.
Tell me about everyone."
Darius slid a hand over her damp hair and found the nape of her neck. His fingers curled around the
slender column, liking the way she fit into his palm. Desire slammed into him, hard and unexpected, even
as he was deliberately trying to view her as a child in need of his protection. He had touched her only to
comfort her, but he didn't let go. He cursed himself for his lack of control. He needed the contact with
her, needed to feel her, to know she was real and solid and not some figment of his imagination.
"Barack and Dayan also play in the band. Both are talented musicians, Dayan a guitar player without
equal. He writes many of our songs as well. Syndil-" He hesitated, unsure what to reveal about Syndil.
"She plays the organ, the piano, just about any instrument. She recently suffered a trauma, however, and
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has not gone up on stage for a while."
Tempest's gaze jumped to his. She caught his sorrow before he had time to conceal it. "Something
happened to her like what happened to me."
His fingers tightened around her neck. "But I did not get there in time to stop it-something I will regret for
all eternity."
She blinked and looked away from him quickly. He had said "for all eternity." Not "until I die" or any of
the other expressions a human might use. Oh,Lord. She didn't want him to guess that her memory of
what he had done to her hadn't been erased, as he'd wished. But what if he intended doing it again, and
this time it worked?
A knock on the door had Tempest jerking around, her heart pounding. Darius rose gracefully, fully
aware of Syndil's presence outside the mobile home. He moved with fluid grace toward the door.
Tempest couldn't keep her eyes off him. He was incredibly graceful and supple, sinewy muscles rippling
beneath his silk shirt. He walked silently, like one of his great cats.
"Darius." Syndil refused to meet his eyes. She was staring at her shoes. "I heard what happened and
thought perhaps I could help in some small way." She handed him Tempest's toolbox and backpack.
"Perhaps you would allow me to see her for a moment?"
"Of course, Syndil. Thank you for your concern. I appreciate any aid you can render." Darius stepped
back to allow her entry. He didn't allow the hope for her recovery to flare even for an instant in his eyes.
He followed the woman he regarded as another younger sister to the table. "Tempest, this is Syndil. She
would like to speak with you if you are feeling up to it. I will clean the kitchen. The two of you will be
more comfortable in the sleeping quarters."
Tempest managed a small smile. "That's his nice way of ordering us out of here. Everyone calls me
Rusti," she told Syndil, oddly without shame before this other wounded woman.
As she slipped past Darius, he reached out to catch her hair and give a small tug. "Not everyone,
honey."
She sent him a quelling glance over her shoulder, forgetting for a moment her swollen eye and bruised
mouth. "Everyoneelse" she corrected.
Darius allowed her hair to slide through his fingers, savoring the contact with her, however slight it was.
Tempest walked carefully, not wanting to jar her bruised ribs. Syndil gestured to the couch, and
Tempest sank into the soft cushions. Syndil examined her face. "Did you allow Darius to heal you?" she
inquired.
Her voice was beautiful, satin soft, haunting and mysterious. Tempest knew immediately that she, too,
was a creature like Darius. It was in her voice and eyes. But as hard as she tried, she could detect no evil
in Syndil, just a quiet sadness.
"Is Darius a doctor?" she asked.
"Not exactly, but he is talented at healing others." She looked down at her hands. "I did not allow him to
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help me, and that hurt both of us more than I can say. Be stronger than I was. Allow him to do this for
you."
"Darius arrived before I was raped," Tempest said bluntly.
Syndil's beautiful eyes filled with tears. "I am so glad. When Desari told me you had been attacked, I
thought& " She shook her head. "I am so glad." She touched a swollen bruise with a gentle fingertip. "But
the man hurt you. He hit you."
"It's far worse to be hurt on the inside," Tempest said, pulling the throw pillows around her as if
fashioning them into walls to keep her safe.
Chapter Three
Syndil stared at Tempest for a long moment. Then her breath escaped in a long, slow hiss. She sat down
and leaned forward to try to read Tempest's expression. "It happened to you. Not this time, but
sometime in your past. You know what it is like. The fear. The revulsion." Her eyes sparkled like black
ice, like crushed jewels. "I scrubbed myself for three and half hours, and months later I still do not feel
clean." She ran her hands up and down her arms, anguish reflected in her enormous eyes.
Tempest glanced toward the kitchen to assure herself that Darius could not hear them. "You should get
counseling. There are places, Syndil, people who can help you put your life back together again."
"Is that what you did?"
Tempest swallowed hard, feeling the familiar nausea that arose every time that particular door started to
crack open. She shook her head, pressing a hand to her stomach.
"I wasn't in a position to seek help. I was simply trying to survive." Once more she glanced toward the
kitchen, then lowered her voice still further. "I never really knew either of my parents. My earliest
memories are of a dirty room where I ate off the floor and watched grownups put needles in their arms,
legs-every vein they could find. I didn't know which of the adults was my mother or father. Occasionally
the authorities would scoop me up and dump me in foster homes, but mainly I lived on the streets. I
learned to fight off drug dealers and pimps and every other man that happened by. It was a way of life, all
I knew for several years."
"That is when it happened to you?" Syndil asked, her eyes so filled with pain that Tempest wanted to
gather her into her arms. At the same time she wanted to run, to never have to relive that particular time
in her life again. She couldn't bear it, not on the heels of Harry's attack.
"No, it might have been easier if it had been some sleazy drunk or junkie or even one of the pimps, but it
was someone I trusted," Tempest confessed in a low voice, the words forced out of her by some bond [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]