Dark Predator d-22 Read online

Page 35


  He groaned and shook his head. He had the means right in front of him to provide his woman with protection and happiness, but he’d been too arrogant, too filled with his pride and honor to take advantage of the gifts handed to him. No more.

  He was a fighter. That was who he was and Marguarita Fernandez was a woman worth fighting for. He was the one who was meant to walk beside her. Zacarias brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed her hand, little butterfly kisses, his heart aching for both of them.

  Stay with me, mića emni kuηenak minan—my beautiful lunatic. I promise you, I will be a better man, a better lifemate to you. You gave yourself to me once. Do it again. I have learned what cherish means. And I cherish you.

  He kissed her hand again and took a deep breath, closed the earth over her and left the chamber to go out into the night. His world. He belonged there. For the first time he felt his affinity for it, the strong kinship of his kind for the night itself. Clouds dimmed the half-moon. The rain was a soft melody, steady and gentle, music to him. The insects and frogs provided a chorus to the symphony. He would make this Marguarita’s world, as well. But he needed to at least—for her—take a few steps into the world she loved.

  In his lifetime he had never once called for aid from any other. Not his brothers, not those brave enough to call him friend. Asking for help went against his code, yet for Marguarita, for his woman, he knew it had to be done. He stepped off the porch into the night rain, listening to the familiar comfort of the night creatures. Without Marguarita in his mind, bridging all those broken connections and filling all the dark shadows, he no longer saw in color, but the memory of emotion was strong in him. How could it not be? She was on his mind, in his heart, connected to his soul, and he felt his love for her, if not anything else.

  Zacarias sent his call into the night. I have great need, Dominic. Come to me. It is of utmost urgency.

  Part of him was shamed to call to the one Carpathian he loosely thought of as a friend. Men like Dominic and him didn’t exactly have friends. Zacarias wasn’t altogether certain what that word actually encompassed. He would die to protect Dominic, but that was his way of life, not friendship.

  I must get to the Carpathian Mountains as soon as possible. We have news we must carry to the prince.

  The reply was faint, as if over a great distance. But at least he had been heard and it meant Dominic was within range that he might meet him and yet he might stay within the night’s distance of Marguarita.

  I will meet you. Give me a range. I have need of a blood exchange.

  Are you injured?

  There was a part of him that didn’t want to share that he had a lifemate. Marguarita was too important and he feared that every enemy would come after her if word got out. And he had many enemies. He closed his eyes briefly and forced himself to trust. My lifemate will awaken in need in a few days and it will be necessary to protect her at all times. Already she has been endangered from my refusal of Solange’s gift.

  He felt Dominic’s shock even over the great distance and it almost made him smile. In that moment, although he accepted that he would always be different, that without Marguarita’s presence, he would never feel as others did, he nearly felt true amusement at Dominic’s reaction.

  This news is—unexpected—but welcomed.

  Give me your coordinates. I will meet you and hopefully can make it back before this night ends. She cannot be left unprotected. We have already had a confrontation with human vampire hunters. If one came, there is the possibility of more.

  Zacarias was certain that Ruslan was in the area, but he hadn’t showed himself, and the small attacks on the ranch had been just probes. It was possible Ruslan had planned to attack the prince even with his army diminished and the attacks on the ranch were merely a diversion, but he was taking no chances.

  Dominic sent the necessary information, and Zacarias took to the air.

  I will meet you, Dominic said. My time is very limited as my message is very urgent, but it shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours out of our way. Know that we have experimented, Zacarias, and although we can walk in early morning sunlight and evening sunlight, it all depends on the position of the sun. We are not without our Carpathian needs. Your body will still go leaden when the sun is reaching its highest peak. It will stay that way for several hours. We are still vulnerable and there is a great danger of being caught out in the sun when experimenting. I think the closer we are to turning when we take the blood, the less it will work.

  Dominic was warning him, but Zacarias was willing to take the risk. He didn’t have a desire to face daylight. That would be Marguarita, and he would be at her side as long as possible, hopefully enjoying her happiness. The moment he knew it was necessary to return to the earth, she would accompany him. He would never be as other Carpathians, comfortable in the world of humans or Carpathians. He would never feel for others as they did. His world would be Marguarita, just as his father’s world had been his mother.

  I will be careful and learn my limitations, Dominic. Are my brothers well?

  Worried about you. Perhaps you should consider bringing your woman to see them. They have waited long for this day.

  Zacarias knew he must do so. Part of him even wanted that reunion, but he knew it wouldn’t be what his brothers expected and he really didn’t want to let them down. He had lost too much in the long centuries of being alone. Marguarita filled him, allowing him to tap into his feelings, allowing him to see color, but even now, as he flew over the rain forest, it was all gray and dull. Colors and emotions wouldn’t stay long without her close.

  His father had been unable to stand the absence after a time, so he had taken his mother into battle. Now, Zacarias knew somewhat how difficult it must have been, especially after having children and not feeling for them unless his lifemate was near enough to connect with him. Zacarias sent up a silent prayer to any higher power who might be listening, that he had the strength to resist ever taking Marguarita into danger, that he would always keep her safety above his own needs. Never let me make the mistake of risking her for my own weakness.

  He made the long trip with Dominic flying toward him, in under two hours, which meant he would barely make it back to Marguarita by dawn. They greeted each other in the formal way of the Carpathian warrior, grasping each other’s forearms.

  “Bur tule ekämet kuntamak—well met, brother-kin,” Zacarias greeted.

  “Eläsz jeläbam ainaak—long may you live in the light,” Dominic responded, those piercing eyes scrutinizing Zacarias carefully.

  Zacarias shook his head. “You will not see what you wish to see. Marguarita enables me to see in color and to feel emotion. Without her in me, I am utterly alone in a stark, gray world.” He knew somewhere close, Dominic’s warrior woman, Solange, stood ready to defend her chosen lifemate. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck alerting him to danger.

  Dominic sighed as he dropped his arms and stepped back. “I am sorry, my friend.”

  Zacarias shrugged. “She has become the center of my universe and I accept and am grateful for a chance I never envisioned. For her, I do this thing.”

  Dominic kept his eyes on Zacarias. “You are willing to exchange blood with me?”

  Hunters gave blood when needed, but an exchange meant a hunter could track another easily. The idea was repulsive to Zacarias. He was a loner. A man apart and safety was paramount. Reclusive, elusive, he took great care to leave no trail when he didn’t want to be followed.

  For Marguarita he would have to extend that trust. He nodded his head.

  Dominic smiled. “It is not necessary.” He turned and beckoned to his lifemate. She came out from under cover, a lethal woman who would not hesitate to kill if necessary. She looked happy to see Zacarias.

  Already he was feeling a strange crawling sensation in his gut. He needed to get back—to be with her—Marguarita. Being completely alone was no longer something he could bear. H
e took the extended wrist and once again drank from the powerful woman. Dominic, too, provided for him, giving him the mixture of powerful blood he would pass on to his woman.

  “I have fed from your woman before, Dominic, yet still the sun burned me. Do you think this will work for me even as I am?”

  Dominic shrugged. “The effect grows stronger each time the blood is taken, but there are limits and the only way to know is to try. Zacarias, have a safety net available to you. Be cautious.”

  Zacarias nodded. “I cannot be long from her. I thank you both. May the wind grant you fast journey.” He gripped Dominic’s forearms hard and saluted Solange before taking to the sky once more. His heart soared. Marguarita. He would soon be with her.

  19

  He was uneasy. When a hunter such as Zacarias De La Cruz was uneasy, it was a good time to go looking for trouble because it had to be near—or approaching.

  Three nights. It had to be enough time for Marguarita to fully heal. For three long nights he had lain beside her, holding her in his arms, and yet even then, the world was grim without her filling the empty spaces in him. He was numb. Starkly alone. When one was used to such a thing, when emotions and color faded slowly, it was easier to bear, but losing it all so fast, one moment her warmth filling him, driving out shadow, and the next, being completely alone, was far more difficult than he had ever expected.

  Still, Zacarias found himself pacing outside in the night where he could breathe in the night’s information instead of waking Marguarita once again. The night was waning, but still he refused to bring her to the surface. Something was just that little bit off kilter. He couldn’t find it, not with the wind and not with the insects. Everything appeared normal, but it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. He stepped off the porch and moved out into the yard, his keen sight hunting now—looking for one tiny discrepancy that would alert him to danger.

  He needed her. Zacarias De La Cruz who never needed anyone in his life, needed Marguarita. And he needed her happy, giving herself to him, her laughter, her warmth, her soft, sweet body. Was he imagining things because he was he afraid to face her? Fear was an emotion and without Marguarita he didn’t have such complications. No, there was something out here, something not right. It was only a matter of time.

  His body went on alert, ready for anything. Her horses stamped restlessly in the stables. Missing her. As he was missing her. He moved away from the yard toward the rain forest bordering his land, drawn by an unknown frisson of warning, listening to the night. Insects chorused, the frogs chimed in, the cattle murmured and the horses stamped. Still—there was that note—or lack of one. Maybe it was just him. He felt off. Something not right in the pit of his stomach.

  Concern for Marguarita’s safety was uppermost in his mind. Things had been relatively quiet on the ranch since Esteban and DS had died. Even Cesaro had stayed away from the main house. He had given blood each time Zacarias had come to him and even seemed a little more at ease with him, but Zacarias had not sought him out for company, only for sustenance. He walked around the fence line to the back of the property, every sense alert.

  Zacarias scanned the area for blank spots that might indicate a vampire was near. Absolutely everything seemed in place, perfect, too perfect. He didn’t believe it. An attack was imminent, but from which direction? Was this another probe, or the real thing? Wings fluttered up in the trees. Without moving his head, he let his gaze drift to the thick line of trees guarding the rain forest. Eyes shone back at him.

  Calm settled over him like a mantle. He stretched his senses. The real thing then. Constant movement in the canopy heralded more and more birds gathering. He wanted to take the fight as far from the hacienda as possible, not willing to risk Marguarita, the workers or her beloved horses. He was grateful she was beneath the ground, that he hadn’t yet brought her to the surface where a vampire might detect her presence.

  As far as any of his enemies knew, he had no lifemate. He didn’t feel the emotions most Carpathian hunters experienced once they found the other half of their soul, so in that regard, he was both lucky and unlucky. The lack of emotion would aid him in his battle. He kept moving, using the same unhurried, very fluid stride, feeling his muscles loosen in preparation. His breath came evenly, his heart steady and strong.

  The wind picked up, the subtlest of movements. The tops of the trees swayed just a little more, leaves fluttering. Along the ground the grass undulated in a slow wave. This was the opening gambit. The battle always felt a little like a chess match to him. Combat was his world and he understood it, every nuance.

  Zacarias continued his casual stride, drawing closer to the fence and the trees. The rain forest appeared quiet and dark. The rain fell steadily, soft drops that shifted a bit as the wind blew away from the trees and toward the hacienda. The land sloped down just slightly, the grass a little higher near the fence line. Zacarias walked along the fence, all the while keeping an eye on the birds gathering in the dark of the rain forest. Even as he walked, his arms swinging naturally at his sides, his hands wove a seamless pattern.

  He barely noticed the rain. Cool water dripping steadily from the sky, from the rolling clouds above his head. A drop hit his neck and burned through his skin. He shut off the pain instinctively, throwing his woven shield over his head as he ran toward the fence and the forest to take the fight to them and away from Marguarita.

  A deluge opened of small acid drops raining from the sky, even as the wind picked up. His shield protected his head, but the wind blew the burning drops into his back and thighs as he sprinted for the cover of the canopy. Fireballs slammed into the earth all around him, several striking his shield with alarming force. Overhead, a towering dark cloud churned with a fiery mass of red and orange threads.

  Zacarias took another step and the ground opened up, a long jagged fissure, deep and gaping. He tumbled in, his shield falling a distance away from him. The acid rain and the fiery darts sliced through him. The earth shuddered and moved, closing that foot-wide gap. Zacarias dissolved into tiny molecules, speeding up toward ground level, trying to beat the closing of the fissure. The clap of the two sides of rock and dirt coming together was horrendous, echoing for miles. Birds shrieked and took to the air. Great predators darted down in a frenzy, looking for prey.

  The ground shook, a tremor rocking the foundations of the stables and hacienda. Zacarias rose into the air. At once the birds screamed in exaltation, programmed eyes finding those tiny molecules through the rain and wind, diving for them as if streaking for the surface of water to plunge below for fish.

  Zacarias had no choice, unless he wanted to be torn apart and consumed by birds. He streaked toward them, meeting the attack, shifting from molecules to a fire-breathing dragon, something he rarely did, but right now, he needed to rid the sky of the predatory birds. He shot through their ranks as they tore at his flanks, pecking like mad so that ruby red droplets dripped from him.

  The scent of blood added to the frenzy of the birds. He wheeled and banked, coming above them, sending a stream of fire sweeping through the mass. The stench of burning meat permeated the night as blackened bodies fell from the sky. The remaining birds kept coming, pouncing on the dragon, hundreds multiplying into thousands, pecking and tearing with razor-sharp talons, digging through the tough hide to try to get to the Carpathian inside.

  The sheer weight of the birds sent the dragon tumbling toward earth. Torn and bloody, Zacarias burst from the dragon before it hit the ground, the majority of the birds riding the great carcass to the ground, tearing at it in a kind of fury. Calling to the sky, he used the churning cloud of masses of red-orange flames, drawing them down to slam into the birds in great fireballs. Screaming, the vicious creatures tried to rise into the air, but long spears and tiny darts of flames leaped from one to the other until they were all engulfed in fire.

  “Do you wish to keep up this silly charade, Ruslan,” Zacarias called as he settled in the slight clearing just on the other side of the fence, in the
rain forest itself. He continued to edge deeper beneath the canopy of trees, taking the fight farther from Marguarita.

  Thunder rolled in answer. The clouds churned and boiled. The black cloud burst upward, a tower of fire and brimstone roiling angrily in the sky. The wind rushed through the trees, yet didn’t move the clouds from overhead. Branches swayed, great stick arms reaching almost to the forest floor, as though bowing—or looking to grasp someone with bony fingers.

  A dark, hooded figure emerged slowly from the trunk of a large kapok tree. He moved slowly, without any sign of hurry. It was a testament to the power of a master that the tree and surrounding ground didn’t recoil from his presence. Nature could not stand the abomination of the undead, yet a true master was so adept at illusion, for brief periods, even Mother Earth could be deceived.

  Not a single leaf or blade of grass withered. The figure was tall, imposing, shoulders wide and he walked with complete confidence. Stepping into the grove of trees where the canopy protected the forest floor, he flung off his hood. Long flowing hair was as black as night, his face young and brutally handsome. He smiled and held out his hand to Zacarias.

  “Son. We meet again under more pleasant circumstances, I hope.”

  Zacarias frowned. What was Ruslan playing at? Testing him to see if he had emotions? If he had a lifemate? Every other De La Cruz brother had found his lifemate. Ruslan would hate them all the more for that. He believed himself superior to all of them—so why shouldn’t he have the women? Zacarias and his family were unworthy of such things.

  “I thought more of you, Ruslan. This is a tired trick. Show yourself and be done with it.” For the first time he realized that not feeling emotion without Marguarita locked to him could be more than a curse. Ruslan could not endanger what he did not know of.

  Zacarias waved his hand with a true casualness, as if that perfect image of his father didn’t bother him at all—and in truth—he felt nothing at all at the sight of the man who had been his childhood hero. His wave removed the illusion and revealed Ruslan’s true form. For one second he stood stripped of civility, his body rotted through with a thousand maggots crawling through him. His face was pitted with holes, his eyes sunken and his teeth blackened and serrated, pointed like ice picks sticking up through his gums.

 

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