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Dark Travesty	By : bardnightstar Category: A through F > Dark Series Views: 2304 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Dark series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Dark Travesty: Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own Christine Feehan or the Dark series.

Author’s Note: In case it’s unclear at this point, or you are unfamiliar with Feehan’s series, the reactions concerning lifemates are an ultimate chemical attraction, which shall undergo greater detail in this chapter.

Chapter Three

Though Alaric had no control over his body, he watched with shock as his lifemate ran off. What. The. Hell. He had just been overpowered by a human girl. Wasn’t he supposed to be a Carpathian male here? Had he been switched at birth or something? Save for the drinking blood thing (and living for two and a half centuries), he wouldn’t have been surprised just now.

He’d rescued her. He’d killed a real, undead vampire. He’d seen she was uninjured. He’d kissed her. What else was he supposed to do? He was sure she’d been about to respond, but then those damned psychic powers of hers had stepped in, manipulating him like an unfledged child!

He was also becoming acutely aware that there were a few things unaffected by her gift…most notably the rather prominent one a little below his waist…the one that was really demanding attention.

Images flashed through his mind, ideas of what he’d like to do with Ryan…preferably for an extended period of time without a scrap of clothing between them. Spasms wracked his otherwise inert body, originating at his painfully erect crotch. This was terribly embarrassing for a full-grown Carpathian male. Worse were the images flooding his sensitized mind, the ones making him all too aware of his condition.

Okay, Alaric, he thought to himself. Think…snow. Winter with white fields outside the frosted window. Aye, that’s it. The imagery expanded, a warm fire beside him as his fingers brushed soft flesh—Not helping! he told himself quickly. Okay, back to the snow. Pouring rain while on the hunt. The smell of wet fur. Mum.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his body calmed down. However, he still couldn’t move, so he swallowed his pride and sent his questing mind outward.

What is it, Alaric? Garran sent back, seeming distracted.

I can’t move, he replied, cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

That merited a bit more of his brother’s attention, evidently. Why might it be you can’t move?

Alaric was grown, no longer a fledgling, so why did he keep having to ask Garran for help? Tersely, he explained about Ryan, the attack of the vampire, and her bizarre mental powers.

Garran was quiet for a long while, processing all this. I have never heard of a woman being called “Ryan” before.

Nor have I, Alaraic replied irritably, but how do I move again?

I will look, but you might simply have to wait for her power to wear off. Shall I tell Mum and Da about your new lifemate?

No! Alaric said quickly. That would mean telling his parents about this part, as well.

After another half minute or so, Alaric felt a lessening of the tension in his body. He successfully raised an arm, much to his relief. He managed to remember to send Garran his thanks.

His eyes fell upon the staff remnant, and burned it to a quick cinder as well, removing with it the last trace of the acidic vampire blood. He was still surprised that the leather of the coat had protected his lifemate.

But now he had to find that accursed woman again before she got herself killed!

* * *

Ryan, glad now she was in good shape, didn’t stop running until she reached her sister’s well-lit house. She was only slightly out of breath from the unusual exercise, and she blindly refused to accept what she’d seen earlier. She caught her breath before trying the doorknob, not wanting her sister to see her gasping for breath and wonder what had happened. She’d probably assumed the new haircut was some whim of Ryan’s, the likes of which Stephanie had never understood.

Her hair…that was something Ryan mourned the loss of. How dare that freaking bastard cut her hair? Sure, the curls could be obnoxious and impossible to deal with, but it was her hair! Now, the strands barely brushed her shoulders, and she’d have to go in for a cut tomorrow to get the ends trimmed evenly. That meant closing the shop for an hour or so, which could potentially cost her a customer.

“Ryan, there you are!” Stephanie cried, coming into the front room as her younger sister stepped inside. She had August in her arms, and looking frazzled and at her wits’ end. “Thank God! April is on the couch watching a movie, and I have got to get going. She took her medicine a half hour ago, and she should be fine until I get back. Hopefully, it will put her to sleep.” She grabbed her purse and a tote bag for August, and went out the still open door. “I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

As usual, Ryan hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise. She sighed and shut the door, locking it, as well as pulling the bolt and chain. After the evening she just had, she couldn’t be too safe. She removed her coat, hanging it off a chair in the hall, and went in to the living room.

April looked at her curiously, despite the red, runny nose and puffy eyes. “Your hair’s different, Aunt Ryan.”

“I know, sweetie,” Ryan replied, touching the shorter hair absently. “I…decided it was time for a change.”

“Oh. Okay.” April sneezed loudly, then returned her drowsy attention to the television set. Ryan took her seat in the oversized armchair nearby, confident April would soon be asleep. Unfortunately, that left her no choice but to brood on the events of the evening.

What had happened? She wasn’t sure which concerned her more, the events or her reaction to Alaric. It had been almost a year since her last physical encounter with a guy, and that had to be the reason she’d felt that mild attraction to him. Besides, he’d tried to save her…no, that was more exasperating than the attraction itself. She could take care of herself! And…what had happened, anyway? Electricity had just shot of the porch light, incinerating that body completely! That didn’t happen in normal life. And that was without even mentioning the affect of the man’s blood on her staff.

Okay. Ryan took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and tried to concentrate. What exactly had happened? That first meeting with Alaric had been exasperating, and he had behaved very oddly. Then, she’d had dinner and left through the back door. Alaric had, obviously, remained in the area. Had he set that whole thing up, using some magic trick to create the effect of the body disappearing? She hadn’t kept her eyes on the staff the whole time, perhaps he had dumped some sort of acid on it.

No, that was ridiculous. They’d only met that night, and he couldn’t possibly have set all that up in twenty minutes. But why had that man been waiting back there? Had he been waiting for her, specifically, as he’d implied? Or had he simply been waiting for any random woman? For that matter, why had Alaric been there at all to dive in to the fight? It galled her to think that a man, any outsider actually, had been the one to save the day when all her years of training hadn’t given her enough of an upper hand.

About fifteen minutes later, as expected, April had fallen completely into sleep. Ryan was able to relax, finally, despite her worries from earlier. Her paranoia was completely at rest now.

Then, a knock at the door sounded.

Ryan tensed, and stood, walking easily to the door with a feigned confidence, even though whoever was on the other side couldn’t see her. She peered through the peek hole, and saw…Alaric. How had he found her here, especially when she’d left him stuck in place like a statue?

I know you’re there, lass, a voice sounded in her mind—his voice. I would like to talk, before something like what happened earlier happens again.

She leaned her forehead against the door, indecisive. How had he deliberately projected his thoughts to her? More, how had he done all that other stuff earlier? Letting him in could get her questions answered. Unfortunately, it also seemed a gateway for hormones that had chosen this inconvenient time to break out. But she was a well-trained athlete. If she could do anything, it was control her own body. So, she took a deep breath, stood back from the door, and opened it. But she didn’t invite him inside.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Shelfax?” she asked with forced civility. “I don’t believe there is anything to discuss.”

“You don’t want to discuss what happened earlier?” he replied, a slightly impish gleam in his light brown eyes. “It certainly isn’t something we should be talking about over an open threshold like this. It isn’t safe.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

“If you’d be kind enough to invite me inside, I’ll explain it to you.”

Her dark eyes narrowed.

He held his hands up in protest. “I mean nothing improper by it. Don’t you think you could defend yourself easily enough if I were to try anything of the sort? This is the only way you’ll get your questions answered.”

She hesitated, but finally stood aside. “Fine. Come in.”

He nodded in gratitude, and stepped past her, glancing around as he did. Ryan wondered what he’d expected to see.

Ryan shut the door, locking it securely once again. “This way.” She led him into the kitchen, so April wouldn’t be disturbed—not that she would be, considering the medicine she’d taken. Ryan sat down at the kitchen table, then felt a bit ill at ease when Alaric sat next to her, rather than across from her. His eyes were on her all the while, dark and intense shadows in them, which was a very unsettling appearance.

“I should tell you what I am,” Alaric said without preamble.

“What do you mean?” she asked with furrowed brow.

“What I am,” he repeated. “With your gift for telepathy, you should be able to find that my words are the truth.”

Crazy was the first thing that came to mind, but she leaned back in her chair comfortably and nodded. She was brushing his mind lightly, just to ensure that he was, in fact, telling the truth. It was better to do it this way than just to rip the information from his mind. First, she understood and processed information differently than he would, and second, it would cost her a lot in energy. She didn’t have a limitless supply of that, after all. It was like using any other muscle, and caused at least as much of a draining effect on her body.

“That…man in the alley earlier was not human,” Alaric began bluntly. “He was a vampire, the undead, soulless. He sought to use you as a way to bring back his soul.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That is nuts. There is no such thing as vampires. It’s ridiculous, and is actually believed to have originated during the Middle Ages with outbreaks of rabies. After all, the symptoms line up.”

Alaric flashed a rather vulpine grin. “And who do you think planted that idea, hmm? It’s really a clever cover-up, I think.”

“Fine,” she said shortly. “I’ll pretend this is possible. What on Earth does that have to do with me?” After all, her touch on his mind told her that he was certain this was true. He didn’t act as though he were insane, though it was a definite possibility. That would probably show the same brainwave patterns as someone telling the truth, not that she’d ever experimented with it before.

“I am a Carpathian,” he said, not much of an answer to her question. “I was born in raised in Ireland, but my people are the Carpathians. I was born two and a half centuries ago. My people can become vampires, and are frequently mistaken for the undead. Our males lose the capacity to see color and feel emotions after an average of two hundred years. The darkness in us grows, until we have to give in or seek the dawn—commit suicide by allowing the sun’s rays to kill us. That much of the myths are true, though we can usually handle sunlight early in the morning or late in the afternoon, near twilight. We require blood to live, but are born this way, not made by ‘biting.’ The only way to prevent this, and regain the ability to feel and see in color, is by finding a woman, the one woman who is able to balance our darkness and, essentially, complete us—a lifemate. Unfortunately, few women are born in our people, not enough for all of the males. We learned some time ago that some human women with psychic ability can be turned into Carpathians, rather than insane female vampires. It is how our race is able to continue.”

Ryan stared blankly at him. “What?”
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Dark Travesty