Dark Heart of the Sun (Dark Destinies Book 1) Read Online Free

deep blue eyes. The woman’s smile had an air of resignation. The girl’s—Cassidy, he recalled—was broad, almost fierce.
    Dominic cocked his head, considering. She didn’t look like she smiled much lately. In fact, she looked exhausted from more than a day spent cleaning his house. The corners of her eyes crinkled with tension even now.
    Another pair of eyes caught his across the soft curve of her belly. A huge black mass of fur lay there, coiled like a spring. Unlike its mistress, the cat was wide-awake and aware of him. Knowing itself discovered, it scrambled backwards and promptly fell off the side of the bed with a thump. Growling, it hustled underneath.
    Cassidy stirred at the commotion, turning away to mumble into the pillow. When her hair fell away from her neck, the slow throb of her vein there caught his attention. In his enhanced vision, he saw it as a flowing ribbon of golden light. A siren call to his basest needs.
    He closed his eyes and forced the beast back into its cage. When he opened them again, dread gripped him like an icy vise. No longer distracted by his supernatural awareness of her life force, he saw instead the dark, crescent bruise marring the fine skin on her neck. Dominic dropped into a crouch, the lethargy growing in his bones forgotten.
    Another blood-drinker was near.
    But not here. Not now. He would have sensed another immortal presence. The injury wasn’t fresh—he estimated a day, maybe two since being inflicted—but it was ugly. The bite had been hard, indicating loss of control or intent to kill. Yet she had survived, the attack aborted. Not only that, she was here, in his lair. The odds of this being a coincidence were nonexistent. She must have been compelled, sent here, to him, by another blood-drinker. But to what end? And by who?
    He could think of several possibilities, all of them justifying her immediate disposal, even if it meant he would have to abandon his lair. If one blood-drinker had found him, it was only a matter of time before his mad sire did as well.
    If he hadn’t already.
    The sun was coming, and his thoughts turned slippery inside his skull. At best, he had seconds of consciousness left to decide . . . what? His gaze flew to the girl with the bruise. No blood-drinker could touch him during the day, but she could. If he killed her now, or if he let her live, the result would be the same—someone, something would find him today or tonight and would do with him as it pleased. If she stayed, he could not. He had to find shelter elsewhere. Now.
    Dominic got as far as the window. A sky already bright with reflected sunfire scalded his face, forcing him back inside, throwing him to the floor. He lay flat and stared up at the shadows whirling around the ceiling fan. To his eyes, sparks flew from the blades. A droning hum built in his ears, blotting out all else, the roar of the sun barreling across the horizon.
    Stairs. He was crawling down the stairs, heavy limbs moving as if of their own accord, dragging him to safety. As it always did, the beast took over his body to save itself, taking the decision out of his hands. Tears streamed down his face as the light inside the house built ever faster, burning his eyes, squeezing around him with physical force, wringing all his strength from his bones and emptying his mind. He bit his tongue hard to stifle the agonized howl burning in his throat, to conceal his presence from her, the intruder, the spy.
    When the door to his sanctuary closed, smothering him in blackness, his body went limp against it and slid to the floor. He reached for the deadbolt, but couldn’t feel it, couldn’t feel his arm flopping by his side. He didn’t know if he had turned the lock, if he was truly safe. With his last coherent thought, he realized it didn’t matter. If she was here to kill him, she would have done it yesterday.
    And if she wanted to kill him today . . . justice had found him at last.

Chapter 3
    Man on a Mission
    Jackson