Dark Storm(40)

Riley pushed her hand under the corner of her sleeping pad she was sitting on. Her fingertips touched the tent floor. The vinyl felt cool against her hand. Her fingertips began to tingle as her connection to the earth grew stronger. She pushed into the plastic, gaining comfort the closer she got to the packed dirt underneath the tent. To her surprise, the thin plastic material seemed to dissolve beneath her hand, giving her access to the earth, which parted easily, as if welcoming her exploration.

"So Dax hunts these vampires, the ones like this Mitro who escaped from the volcano," Riley summarized. "But Dax is Carpathian, which means he has this same evil growing inside of him as Mitro. And if he doesn't suicide in the sun, he'll eventually become a vampire as well."

The image of Dax's broken body, his wounds open to the night sky, flooded through her. But even though he'd surely been in agony, he'd regarded her with such warmth and such wonder, his eyes filled with emotion. Hadn't he? Her heart seemed to stutter at the idea of him turning vampire. He was noble. Filled with courage. He'd touched her with such gentleness. She couldn't believe that there was evil in him. He was capable of violence, but evil? The idea was so devastating she could barely breathe.

Seeking solace, she used her fingertips to move through the earth. It was odd they moved through the packed soil with almost no resistance, as if she were running her hand through still water. The earth seemed to be singing under her hands.

With her fingers in the soil, if she didn't think about the why, and the how, instead focused on the song that was all around her, she could sense all the others in the camp. She knew where they were, what they were doing. Then, abruptly, she froze, her body turning cold from fear at the thought that Dax was gone.

"Gary, where is Dax right now?"

"He's resting at the moment. Like I said, Carpathians and the sun don't get along too well, although it doesn't seem to affect Dax quite as strongly."

"Gary," she said very coolly. "Answer the question."

"Dax wanted to stay close just in case Mitro or some other threat came up and we needed him."

Riley's eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. Gary, taken by surprise, fell over backward in his attempt to get out of her way.

"He's right underneath us isn't he?" She looked down, scanning the tent floor. She felt him, and relief flooded every part of her. He was close. She would see him again.

Gary got to his feet and righted his stool. "I honestly don't know. The location of their resting place isn't something Carpathians share, for obvious reasons, but that would make the most sense. He wants to keep you safe."

Riley knew Dax was there. Maybe they weren't supposed to know his exact resting place, but the earth whispered to her. And she knew. There was a man, a Carpathian, buried underneath her. She looked down at her feet. She was standing on him. Well, not actually standing on him, she corrected herself silently. To be perfectly technical about it, the tent just happened to be pitched over ground that contained Dax's sleeping body.

"I hope he doesn't expect me to help dig him out," she said out loud, and Gary brought his fingers up in a shushing gesture.

Laughter rumbled through her, and she knew it was Dax. The man spoke right into her mind. I thank you for the invitation but I am sure I can find my own way out.

His voice was polite and smooth but each word carried a smile. She shivered. Okay, more than polite and smooth, his voice sounded like warm molasses pouring into her mind and filling every empty, lonely spot. Just the sound of his voice sent fingers of arousal dancing through her body and an electrical current snapping and crackling in her veins. Warmth spread through her as if that molasses found a way into her body.

He couldn't be in her mind. Not with the things about him she was thinking-like how very sexy everything about him was. Color swept up her neck into her face. "I'm not comfortable with you in my head."

She glared at Gary, as if he were to blame for Dax's behavior.

Unperturbed by her irritation, Dax continued speaking directly into her mind. I left you a gift, Riley, to thank you for your assistance. Do you like it?

Some external force directed her attention down to the sleeping bag. She flipped the edge over to reveal an intricately woven quilt that depicted a beautiful landscape of mountains and grasslands, all worked in reds and blacks with threads of shining silver and gold embroidered throughout. A silvery moon in the top corner of the quilt sent beams of silvery light shining down upon the landscape below. The detail was exquisite, full of depth and movement. She turned it over to see the back side, and the quilt moved like silk, soft and warm in her hand.

The backing showed a different scene filled with wildlife. Birds of prey flew alongside a giant red dragon. On the ground below, wolves, lions, tigers and snow leopards raced across the plains, some diving into rivers and streams. As with the front of the quilt, the detail work was so exquisite, the scene practically came to life. More than that, the quilt radiated warmth and comfort.

"You shouldn't have," Riley murmured.

The quilt is not to your liking? There wasn't any emotion in Dax's voice, but Riley somehow knew she had hurt him. She had never been good with social niceties.

Her heart thudded in her chest. She'd never seen anything more beautiful-except him. She moistened her lips and glanced at Gary. Color crept up her neck to stain her cheeks. She felt Dax in her mind, waiting for her answer. She reached back to him, wanting to share what she had to say with only him.

I like it very much. How could anyone not? Her fingers traced the lines of the red dragon. Simply touching the fabric, stroking the lines of the design, seemed to wash away her worries and fears. "Did you hear me?" Her heart thudded. She felt shy, when she'd never thought she had a shy bone in her body.

Yes. The word stroked over her skin like a caress.

This is truly a piece of art. But it's far too beautiful to use-especially in a tent. The idea was outrageous.

Ah. But it was made for your use. You healed me. I wanted to thank you, and as you were sleeping, it seemed like the appropriate gift. His tone seemed more at ease. Did you sleep well, Riley? He spoke her name slowly, as if with great care, his tongue savoring each syllable.

She gently folded the quilt and set it down on her bed, her fingers lingering on top of the red dragon, stroking. I did sleep well, and thank you for the quilt, Dax. She found herself trying to say his name with a similar inflection.

But I am not having a conversation with a man while he is buried in the ground beneath my feet. Not to be rude, but I find the whole thing more than a little creepy. Her hand went over her mouth. Did Carpathians know what teasing was?