Dark Irony

i do not own Christine Feehan. I do not own Christine Feehan's ideas. I do not want to own either Christine Feehan or her ideas. I've got those on my own.

Please enjoy.

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Tobias Dehaydre could admit to quite a few things. He knew he was a handsome man, and that his simple presence could drive women in the same room with him to sincere distraction. His hair, for some odd reason, tended to draw the most attention to him. It is still a matter of inscrutability as to what is so unusual about a man having a braid of hair. His looks were a matter of extreme objectivity, since he had no emotions to judge himself by.

Another thing he knew was that, by human and even Carpathian standards, he was rather old. It was not visible by looking at him (and that is a good thing, else I would have difficulty in going unnoticed when walking amongst these humans), but he was nearly eight centuries old. I believe that my birthday is coming up as well. Strange. I must remember to see Maman and Papa around that time.

For certain, he did not have someone to call his own. He believed that he would know should he have had one hiding in the tails of his (admittedly) somewhat conspicuous coat.

He always kept his eyes open. His father had told him stories about the special woman who would come into his life and offer him salvation through her very existence, and from that moment, he had dreamed of meeting that mythical woman with all the power of a fledgling Carpathian. His dreams were considerably less vivid when he lost his sense of color, and they dimmed even more after he had lost his emotions, but he held close to the possibility that she would come around and bring light and joy back into his life.

With a negligent ease borne of long practice, he opened up his mind to the perceptions of those around him. He had heard earlier of a strange run of disappearances and murders occuring in the area, and so he was here to seek clues. With a faint glance skyward to the god he had nearly forgotten how to worship, he concentrated on the mental mutterings of the people surrounding him.

>Dude, that guy’s hot...<

>...wonder if Mom’d like that jacket in the window...<

>~control, remember your...damn, nice coat that guy’s got; rest of him ain’t bad neither~<

>Hold your head even higher and into the fire. we goooooo!<

Muscle memory had Tobias shaking his head in denial though he himself felt nothing. So far, the thoughts he had heard had little to no bearing on the situation he was investigating, and he knew that it was not a good idea to go probing too deeply into the minds of people around him unless he was in a secure location. Opening myself to hear them is opening myself to attack. It is best to be prudent. I will not die until I choose to seek the dawn.

He continued to keep his mental ear open.

>warmsoftlipspressofbodyfeelsgood...<

>...fuckingcoldouthere...<

>...should go home before Dad calls the cops...<

Then, it hit him hard, hard enough to make him stagger.

Dislocationsearchingthisisweirdwhoisprobing<

His knee hit the ground, and he let out a slight grunt at the feeling of impact. As a reflex, he immediately reshielded himself. Whoever detected my influence could potentially use their ability to trace it back to me--

“Excuse me sir, but are you alright? You took a rather sudden spill...”

Tobias looked up to see a slender young woman extending a hand to him. Suddenly, his eyes fixated on her hand, or to be more precise, on the bracelet on her wrist. It was a delicate thing of braided string and beads.

It’s....blue, green, and black. That bracelet is blue, green, and black. The intricate interplay of the colors dizzied him as he took in her tanned skin, her bright yellow shirt with a fishing motif, her concerned hazel eyes and curly dark blonde hair.

I’m...seeing color. Hardly aware of what he was doing, he gave the woman his hand and allowed her to help pull him off the ground. He wasn’t really aware of her presence, because his blood was singing in sheer jubiliation.

My lifemate is here! Where is she? I will protect her, wherever she is--

“Sir?” The young woman spoke again, timidly but with growing conviction. “I’m glad you’re uninjured, but if you keep up this grip on my hand, I won’t be.”

“Ah,” Tobias managed. “My apologies, madamoiselle. There are days when I’m not aware of my own strength.”

“I’m sure it happens,” the woman replied warily. “Will you be okay?”

Tobias knew he was excited to feel emotions again (and was confused by them at the same time after having been denied them for so long), but his telepathy picked up the rather strong thought through his shields all the same; >cute but loony; why do I always find the weird ones?<

“Yes, and thank you,” he replied absently. “I wish you safety on this night.”

“And the same to you, I’m sure,” the woman said, walking away. Tobias caught the faint whisper of “nut” from her, though he knew that had he been a normal human, she would not have been heard.

Her strange behaviors are not my concern. My lifemate is near. Where is she?

He would have dropped his shields to search for her, but a thought stopped him. Whoever caught me reading his or her surface thoughts may still be in the area, and if I deshielded here, I may as well climb onto a hotel balustrade and stand under a glowing halogen arrow. The search would have to be visual if it would be conducted at all, he knew. Right after he had had that thought, the colors he was seeing seemed to reduce their vivacity. It seems that she has moved further away. This will be more difficult than I initially thought.

For the first time in centuries, Tobias Dehaydre of the Carpathians had the urge to sigh. He obeyed his urge.

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And here goes nothing.