The Darkling's Desire. Lauren HawkeyeЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Chapter One

      Anastasia Duras had been born to kill.

      The thought reverberated through her mind as she twisted her body into the impossibly complicated ustrasana yoga pose, her muscles quivering like jelly. It was not until the quivering turned into the unbearable heat of a serious burn that she relaxed, dropping to the ground with the grace of a predatory cat.

      She had started practicing yoga in her teens, on the advice of her mentor, twisting her body into complicated poses before every training match. Yoga helped her to focus before she zeroed in on a target. It cleared her mind, let her training take over.

      Kill or be killed. The mantra had been ingrained in her since birth. Though this was only her second mission, she knew what she had to do.

      Find and kill the rogue Darkling.

      She had no idea why she, of all the Amazons, had been chosen for this mission. Though it was not spoken of loudly, she had heard the whispers, the ones that spoke of the discovery of a rare Witchling and his Darkling love.

      This Darkling was her target. She had no idea what the Witchling would do, could do, to keep his lover safe.

      Running a hand over the blunt edges of raven dark hair that fell just below her ears, Anastasia rolled her head from side to side, working out a kink in her neck before crouching down in the damp leaves that covered the ground. Esme’s Magic Emporium backed onto a small forested area, and though it was late fall and the leaves that should have dangled from above instead carpeted the frozen ground beneath her feet, she was still grateful for the cover.

      Ignoring the little voice in her head that said she was no match for this mission, Anastasia slowly breathed in, then out. She imagined herself in one of her intense training sessions back in Lviv, pictured herself hiding in the densely forested Carpathian mountains that were her home.

      She could overcome the stiffness that wanted to take over her legs, could ignore the numbness that crept into her fingers from the moist evening chill.

      This might have been her first real mission, and she might have a ball of nerves wound tight in her belly, but she was not afraid of Darklings as a species—they were the vampires of legend, the ones who drank blood, true, but they were not collectively evil. No, they had the good and the bad in their ranks, as did humans, and she had been raised with this knowledge. Her people honored a long-held pact with their council, after all.

      Still, her nerves skittered beneath her skin like a thousand tiny spiders. Though she was a Carpathian Amazon, a warrior trained to hunt and kill the rogue Darklings, and though she had excelled at her training, she had never actually killed a sentient being before.

      She had been born to kill. And kill was exactly what she had to do.

      * * *

      Jasper Nagorsky perched high in a barren oak tree, staring down at the small figure huddled in the leaves. Having heard the heartbeat as soon as he’d come close to the magic store, he had secured his vantage point in the sturdy branches. The tree supporting his weight was devoid of green, but it was closely surrounded by conifers.

      He knew that the creature below him hadn’t detected his presence as he had detected its.

      The heartbeat didn’t sound entirely human, and he thought for a minute that it might belong to his quarry. Dr. Gavin Thibodeau was a newly turned Witchling. The organization that Jasper worked for—the Karpaty Council—wanted to know more about this rare and lethal creature, this creature that had become a legend in recent times.

      Jasper absently rubbed his fingers over the rough surface of the tree bark as he watched and waited to see what the creature below him would do. He understood the importance of his mission. This Witchling had annihilated a dozen Darklings at once, turned them to ash. He had powers that Jasper could not even dream of, and also the advantage of walking during the day. His thirst was slight enough to drink only every few weeks.

      Jasper had different talents. Trained as a soldier, a veteran of World War II, he had quickly shown an aptitude for uncovering hidden information—things that others did not want known. His current mission was the same—gather information and report back.

      He was very good at what he did. But nothing in his long memory clicked with the creature huddled on the damp ground. He peered through the fine mist, could now see the strands of dark hair clinging to rosy cheeks. It was a woman.

      Because the Witchling doctor’s schedule at the hospital had become erratic since his turning, Jasper had thought it more expedient to stake out the place of employ of the doctor’s lady love. Aubrey Hart was a doctor herself, but as a fairly newly turned Darkling, she had chosen a new path…away from the constant scent of blood, he assumed, and wisely so.

      He well remembered the thirst he’d experienced as a newborn. He assumed that she was working at Esme’s store in exchange for guidance through her difficult transition. Though Esme was human, she knew more about the supernatural than even many old vampires did.

      The newly born Aubrey was classified as a rogue Darkling, one who had bucked the council’s orders. A salesperson in a magic shop was a curious choice for someone with the balls to go against the council.

      Pulling a strip of the bark from the tree to worry with his fingers, he wondered what would become of her. There weren’t many who disobeyed the Karpaty Council and lived to tell stories about it.

      Jasper also wondered about the fate of the woman below him. If she detected his presence, she would be an encumbrance to his mission. And he would have to kill her. He didn’t like killing. He’d done it—he was a Darkling, after all, as well as a soldier—but he regretted every life he’d been forced to take.

      Watching the woman now, he was almost inclined to think that she was just a human, one with a very slow metabolism, but both her slender frame and her focused stillness discouraged that notion.

      No, she was more than human. He was sure of it. And if she was here, in the exact spot as he, he would have bet that her purpose had something to do with either the doctor or his Darkling.

      Since