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Dark Passion	By : fionafairhame Category: A through F > Dark Series Views: 3154 -:- 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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Disclaimer: I am not Christine Feehan, nor do I own her or her works. I am just a big fan of her books. ^_^

Dark Passion

A Dark Series FanFic

by: Fiona Fairhame

Chapter 2

“Ah, Dominic, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Mikhail inquires upon answering the door. Raven smiles at him from the next room, as her lifemate ushers him into their home.

“I reached a decision earlier this night. I can no longer fight the darkness.”

“So you will seek the dawn then?” Raven asks, walking into the room.

“That was the plan,” Dominic states calmly. As if just noticing, he continues, “You know, Raven, the color of that dress goes well with your eyes.”

“Color?” Raven questions, shooting a surprised glance at her mate.

“So, you've found her then. Your lifemate,” Mikhail says simply. There can be no other explanation for Dominic's ability to see colors once more. He should also be experiencing a return of emotions, strong ones.

In answer, a grin spreads across Dominic's face. “I believe so.” He nods, “Yes, I have.” She is the only reason he can now see in color, feel something other than emptiness. Finding ones lifemate is the only way to bring those things back.

“That's wonderful news, Dominic!” Raven exclaims. “What is she like?”

“I don't really know. I haven't had much chance to talk to her yet.” A boyish blush graces his cheeks as he continues, “She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“There are no Carpathian women who are of age and not claimed. She must be human. Does she have psychic abilities?” the prince asks. By way of explanation, he adds, “she may not be able to handle the conversion otherwise.”

“I believe so, yes. She seemed out of practice with mental communication. Though I did sense her familiarity with it.”

“So where is she?” Raven inquires.

“At the inn in town. Her room has a balcony; she was standing on it when I flew overhead. I was in owl form, at least. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when I first saw the red of her hair. It has been so long, I had given up hope of ever seeing colors or feeling again.”

“I found my Raven when I was at that point,” Mikhail sates softly, pulling his lifemate closer to his side. He nuzzles her neck lovingly. “When are you going to see her again?”

Dominic shrugs, “I don't know. As soon as possible.”

****

Jane awakens to sunlight streaming in through the balcony doors. Sunrise may be pretty, but direct sunlight isn't easy on the eyes. And I was almost to the good part, she thinks wearily. I was actually going to see his face, my dream man. If only dreams could come true, she sighs, stretching awake. If dreams came true, I'd be meeting a tall man with impossibly green eyes and shoulder-length black hair soon. Too bad I never saw more of his face than his eyes. Though it can't be possible for anyone to have eyes that green, almost metallic. So he was just a dream, she thinks with another small sigh.

Cursing herself for not closing the drapes, she stumbles out of bed. The smell of breakfast cooking wafts up from below. Her rumbling stomach reminds her just how little she had eaten yesterday.

She dresses sleepily, pulling on a blue lacy bra and matching panties, khaki shorts, and a sleeveless blue button-up shirt before heading downstairs. She will have to start work on her research tomorrow. Today she needs to rest. After traveling all of the previous day, and the positively strange encounter with an owl last night, she decides a day of rest will do her a world of good.

Yawning widely, Jane wanders into the dining room. She finds it empty; dawn is too early for most people. She finds the innkeeper in the kitchen, cooking breakfast while several children play around her feet.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jane inquires, stifling a yawn.

More than slightly frazzled, the innkeeper doesn't even look up. In broken but easily understandable English she says, “Thank you. If you can just take them outside, I'll have breakfast ready in just a moment.” Turning to the children, the lady tells them something in their language. All of the children turn to look at Jane.

“Well, then, let's go outside,” she says with a nervous, sleepy smile.

Once outside, the children happily commence playing. Jane watches them from a distance, close enough to break up any fights but not too close since they don't know her. The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. She feels as though she is being watched.

You are even more beautiful in the sunlight, little one, the same voice from last night says, speaking directly to her mind.

Him again? She thinks, looking around for the source of the voice. How does he penetrate my shields without my knowledge?

A gentle laugh sounds in her head. Yes, me again. He ignores her second question for the time being.

Okay, so you can hear my thoughts. Where are you? She asks mentally so as not to disturb the children, while still looking around. The deep shadows under the trees could easily hide someone, or several someones.

“Right here,” he whispers, stepping out from the deep shadows less than ten feet away. He still stands in the shadows, but is no longer hidden by them.

A small gasp escapes her parted lips, her mouth forming an 'O' of surprise. She wonders how she could have failed to see such a handsome, sinfully sexy man. Shoulder-length black hair curls over the collar of his shirt. Tight black pants cover long, lean legs. Smoldering, impossibly green eyes stir new feelings in her. Never before has she been so instantly and completely attracted to a man. Never before has she felt attracted to anyone. Wow! What a hunk, she thinks, unable to help herself. It is the man from my dreams, I know it. He even has the right color of eyes: that impossible, almost metallic green. His full, sensual lips curve into a wide smile; his intense eyes reveal passion, desire. Warmth fills her at the mere sight, pooling low in her belly.

“Breakfast is ready,” the innkeeper calls, looking out the door. “You, sir, will you be joining us this morning?” she offers, catching sight of the man standing under the trees.

“Thank you, I believe I will,” he nods in reply. He walks swiftly to the door of the inn and holds it open for Jane and her youthful charges.

The power in his muscular frame is obvious in the way he moves easily over the ground. The sheer masculinity of him takes her breath away. She notices that he is careful to always remain in the shade, never stepping into the sunlight. An odd practice, to be sure, but she thinks little of it. Maybe it is a common superstition among these people, she thinks with a mental shrug. Low male laughter sounds in her mind. Or maybe not.

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile, blushing slightly. Her blush deepens as he returns the smile. No man should be able to affect me this way. What is happening to me?

You are my lifemate, comes the mental whisper, as if that should explain everything.

What do you mean? Lifemate? She questions.

“Thank you for your help,” the innkeeper says, laying a light hand on Jane's arm. “My husband went out of town early this morning. I usually have his help with this crowd,” she continues, motioning towards the handful of children now scattered around the kitchen table.

“You're welcome. I was just glad to be able to help,” Jane replies with a shrug, turning to face the innkeeper.

“I'm Slavica. I didn't get to introduce myself earlier,” the innkeeper stated, extending one hand in friendship.

Jane smiles in response, shaking the proffered hand. “My name is Calamity, but please call me Jane.”

Calamity. I like that, he laughs.

She turns to him, fully intending to give him a piece of her mind. When she sees his disarming smile, she settles for giving him a mild glare instead. A part of her melts inside. Damn, just one smile and I feel all warm and gooey inside. What is wrong with me?

Slavica looks him over and then asks, “You are one of Mikhail's people, are you not?” At his nod, she continues, “Do you need to lie down somewhere?”

“I will be okay for a little while yet. I appreciate your concern. My name is Dominic, by the way.” He shakes Slavica's hand while Jane looks back and forth between the two of them, obviously confused. “Eat, little one. Then I will explain,” Dominic states, motioning for her to sit and eat.

****

“Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?” Dominic asks once Jane finishes eating.

Jane looks at Slavica questioningly. “Too much light in the sitting room for him,” Slavica replies to the unasked question.

“Then I guess we'll go to my room,” Jane says with a small shrug. “Do you need any more help with the children?”

“No, thank you. They were just a bit too much to handle while cooking.” She waves the pair off, smiling widely.

“Okay, then, follow me, I guess.” Jane's uncertainty makes itself known. She's not sure she trusts herself, much less him. The intensity of their immediate mutual attraction scares her. Why didn't you use this mental speech just then?

Not everyone can communicate this way. I did not want the innkeeper to be left out. She would worry about you.

But she barely knows me.

Maternal instincts, she worries about all of her guests. Arriving at the landing outside the door to her room he inquires, are the drapes closed?

Should I go check? She asks. Only then does she think to wonder, how does he know about the drapes? Is he really the owl from last night?

Please.

Jane enters her room to find the drapes wide open, just as she left them. She walks over to close them. She is somewhat surprised to see Dominic sitting on the bed when she turns away from the balcony. She did not hear movement behind her; he made no noise crossing the wooden floor. Dark enough for you? She asks sarcastically.

Actually, no. At her puzzled look, he explains, my people are highly sensitive to the sun. We burn badly, among other things. That is but one of the things I wanted to explain to you.

“Okay,” she sighs. She picks the bedspread up off the floor and hangs it up over the drapes to block out most of the remaining sunlight. “Start talking.” She leans against the wall next to the balcony. Her stance, and the look on her face, plainly says: “This had better be good.”

Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying my little story so far. If so (or if not), please read and review! Feedback is appreciated. Thanks. ^_^
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Dark Passion