Dark Fire by Christine Feehan

incident from your mind and wish that I could do so from my own as well." She was trembling in his arms, her enormous eyes wide with shock, her face pale.
    "It's okay, Darius. It was just a surprise," she whispered. "I know you wouldn't hurt me." She made another attempt to get out of his arms.
    Darius tightened his hold on her. "I am not going to give you up. I cannot. I do not expect you to understand, and I cannot explain adequately. I have been doing for others all of my existence. I have never had anything for myself; I never wanted or needed anything. But I need you. I realize you cannot accept what I am, but it does not matter to me. I wish I was able to say that it did, but I will not give you up. You are the only one who can save me. Save the others from me. Mortals and immortals alike."
    "What are you, Darius?" Tempest stopped fighting him. She knew she had no hope of getting away from him unless he allowed it. Her voice was the merest thread of sound. Her heart was slamming against his chest so rapidly, she was afraid it might explode. At once his black eyes caught and held hers, and she felt herself falling forward into their dark, fathomless depths.
    "Be calm, honey. There is nothing to fear." He enfolded her in waves of tranquility, a soothing, peaceful sea of reassurance.
    As much as she wanted to, she couldn't look away. There was such an intensity about Darius. He was as still and solid as the mountains, as hard as granite, yet so gentle with her. When he looked at her, a burning hunger lit his eyes, a hard possession. He was ageless. Timeless. With a relentless will. He would never swerve from his chosen path. And he had chosen her.
    She reached up to touch her throbbing neck. "Why me?"
    "In all the world, in all these centuries since emotions left me, I have been so alone, Tempest. Utterly alone. Until you. Only you bring me color and light." He inhaled, taking her scent deep within his lungs. He needed relief from his body's relentless demands. "Do not worry, you will not remember any of this."
    Still held captive by his black gaze, Rusti shook her head slowly. "I remember the last time, Darius. You didn't erase my memory."
    His black-ice eyes didn't waver, didn't blink as he accepted the nearly impossible as fact. "You ran away because of what I am." He said it without expression, as if her revelation was not of paramount importance.
    "You have to admit, it isn't every day a vampire bites one's neck." She made a feeble attempt at humor, but her fingers curled convulsively in his thick mane of jetblack hair, betraying her nervousness.
    "So I am responsible, after all, for the attack on you." Darius was assessing the possibility of what she had said. It had to be true. Humans generally required little effort to control. But likely with the difference in her brain patterns, he should have used a much harder mental push to induce forgetfulness. What courage she must have to face him again. To know what he was, and yet remain as she had this night to face him.
    "Of course you weren't responsible for what Harry did," she denied huskily, desperate to tear her gaze from his. She was drowning in those eyes, trapped forever. His arms were iron bands around her, locking her to him. She should have been far more afraid of him than she actually was. Had he succeeded in mesmerizing her?
    "Yet you stayed this time, knowing I took your blood," he mused aloud. "You didn't try to leave, even believing me something as evil as a vampire."
    "Would it have done me any good?" she asked, for once wanting to meet his eyes, wanting to see his expression.
    He didn't so much as flicker an eyelash. His features were as etched granite, sensual yet immovable. "No," he answered her honestly. "I would find you. There is nowhere in this world I cannot find you."
    Her heart pounded again. He could hear it, could feel the vibration echoing through his own body.
    She drew in a breath. "Are you going to kill me? I'd just as soon know