Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: #Romance, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Occult fiction, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural, #South America, #Vampires, #Fiction, #Shapeshifting, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #General
“Should you need blood,” Solange said, “call to us.”
Dominic didn’t protest, but he was
never
going to allow such a risk to her again. Fighting vampires was one thing, but walking into the very fangs of a Carpathian on the verge of turning was something altogether different. His heart was still pounding, the sound drumming in his veins. He looked at her, this woman who was such a miracle to him.
Solange seemed so young, yet so intensely vital. Her sable hair was thick and streaked with red and gold, as if the sun had kissed her. The streaks of red represented the fire and passion running so deep in her. And that thick dark hair, gleaming in the moonlight, was her courage, sharp and terrible and so endless, like the rivers cutting through the forest. He needed her, needed to bind them together, hold her close, claim her for his own.
He wanted to drag her into his arms and kiss her forever. He wanted to turn her over his knees and punish her for scaring him. He didn’t know what to do with her, but they were going to resolve this one way or the other, because he couldn’t go through such an ordeal again. With centuries of facing the undead, the experience of countless battles, facing death every day, nothing had prepared him for the sight of his lifemate offering up her life.
For him. In his name. Her gift to him. A single sound emerged from deep within his throat and he spun on his heel and pointed toward the dwelling, needing to get her away from the other Carpathian. Zacarias would be able to find her, call to her, perhaps make her an unwitting victim. He would always be a threat to her as long as he was unmated. “We must see if we can help the young woman.”
Zacarias inclined his head. “Thank you. Try to save her for me, Dominic. I would consider it a great favor. I would go myself, but I no longer trust myself to be near my people. They would sacrifice themselves for me.” He bowed again toward Solange. “The infusion of your lifemate’s blood has quieted the dark whispers, but I must take myself away from here.”
“You will await my call?”
Zacarias nodded. “I will hear when you call or should you need blood. You can trust me to send the information on.” He melted into vapor and streamed away.
Heart heavy, Dominic gestured for Solange to precede him into the house. She took a cautious step, as if testing her legs. She appeared a little dizzy, but he didn’t touch her, watching Zacarias instead. He wanted her away from the Carpathian hunter as quickly as possible, and he needed to stay alert.
Zacarias was so close to turning and both knew there was little time left for him. The danger was twofold now. Once Zacarias determined he was no longer needed, after this crisis, he would either choose the dawn or he would succumb to the darkness. The loss of such a friend was nearly unthinkable, a stone in Dominic’s chest weighing him down, but he wasn’t risking Solange any further. They had done what they could for Zacarias. It was up to him now.
Beside Dominic, Solange moved a little closer, as if to console him, but she didn’t touch him. When she glanced at him and saw his gaze on her, her eyes shifted from his. She was still uncomfortable around him in any other guise than that of a warrior. He didn’t speak, allowing the silence to stretch between them. He was proud of her, yet he was troubled. Upset. His stomach muscles had knotted tight. He had the urge to shake her, or fold her close and hold on so tight she couldn’t breathe. He felt as if he were coming down from an adrenaline high that left him edgy and out of sorts—conditions he was unfamiliar with.
Dominic swept Solange behind him, uncaring that she might be upset that he was protecting her, but he was done with her putting her body in harm’s way. Zacarias had taken enough blood that she was feeling weak, and because of the parasites, he couldn’t even provide for her. She’d stumbled twice and tried to cover it, but he couldn’t fail to notice. He knocked politely on the open door leading to the master bedroom. Below, he was certain, Zacarias had a lair, but he wouldn’t be using it, wouldn’t risk his close proximity to his people, not with his strength waning. He would never knowingly endanger them.
“Zacarias wanted me to see if I could help,” Dominic greeted as Cesaro spun around. The man looked disheveled. His face was twisted with grief.
“I don’t know what you can do for her,” he replied, stepping away from the bed to give Dominic room. “She’s alive, but her throat . . .” He trailed off.
Dominic took his place, noting that rather than rushing to the young woman’s side, Solange went to the windows, moving like a silent shadow through the room, checking the outside.
“Her father is dead. Out in the courtyard. She has no mother. No other family.”
“She has Zacarias and his brothers, and she has you,” Dominic said. “Zacarias wants everything possible to be done, and for this home to be considered her home.”
Cesaro nodded. “He is like that. Always he looks after us.”
“What’s her name?” Dominic asked. He needed a moment to breathe his way through the sight of the young woman, so small and helpless, barely making a ripple in the large comforter, torn as she was, her dark, thick braid bloody and her face nearly gray. The reminder of the destruction a vampire could cause in seconds only added to his resolve to curb Solange’s courage just a little—enough that he could live with.
“Marguarita,” Cesaro answered. He wiped his hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell the others.”
Dominic leaned over the young woman. Her breath was barely moving through her lungs.
Have him leave the room, Solange.
Solange didn’t hesitate. “We need you to patrol the grounds with your men. If you need to remove her father’s body from the courtyard, do so, but there could be another attack. They were after Zacarias. He’s a huge threat to them.”
She said the right thing. Cesaro hurried to guard his boss’s estate and left the dying woman to them. Dominic trusted Solange to watch over his vulnerable body while he went outside himself and sent his energy into Marguarita.
At once he could see that Zacarias had worked a miracle in the short time he had. The Carpathian had awoken ravenous, but he’d still given his blood and what energy he had to try to save one of those loyal to him. Had he known she’d been attacked because she refused to give up his resting place? Her mind had been protected and the vampire had been unable to break through the safeguards Zacarias had woven for each of those working for him.
The Carpathian blood rushed to every cell, trying to repair the terrible damage. Her vocal cords were nearly destroyed. Dominic took up the repairs where Zacarias had left off, striving to make certain she could both breathe and swallow properly. The torn muscles were reattached. Thankfully Zacarias had given her the blood she needed. Dominic couldn’t supply her, and there was no way of knowing if Solange’s blood was compatible. He did the best he could, realizing that he hadn’t fed when he came back to his body weak and swaying.
“You’ve been working a long time,” Solange said, holding out her wrist. “You need . . .”
“Do not!” He held up his hand. “I think I have had enough of your sacrifices to last a lifetime. I will hunt while you watch over her.”
Solange winced, but she dropped her wrist to her side without protest. Her face flushed and she averted her face.
His words were sharper than he intended, the need for blood—hers—riding him hard. He wanted more than her blood. The beast was still too close, needing to carry her off, keep her safe. He had every intention of laying down the law in a way his lifemate could understand, but right now, when his entire body was still in shock from the terror of those teeth in her veins and the ruby-red eyes of the near-vampire marking her as prey right under his nose, he couldn’t find it in him to be gentle with her.
“Is she going to live?”
Was there a tremor in her voice? He caught her chin and lifted her head until her eyes met his. She was trembling like a little bird. The pad of his thumb strummed across her soft lips.
“She will live. Her people will take care of her. I am the only one taking care of you, and I am not doing a very good job of it.”
She frowned, her lashes fluttering. She looked confused, the color rushing into her face. “Why would you need to take care of me? I did make the one mistake, but I realized it immediately. There is no need to worry about me. I’m sorry I knocked the vampire off you. I should have known you had a plan.” Her words tumbled out, a breathless explanation, almost painfully delivered. She could barely force herself to look at him.
“You are a warrior of great skill and I have no quarrel with the way you helped this rising. You kept Cesaro from being killed and Zacarias from dishonoring himself while I was slaying the vampire.” He gave credit where it was due. “I was proud of you.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes a deep green, almost emerald. The long lashes fluttered and she looked away. She wasn’t used to compliments—or attention. Dominic turned away from the sheer vulnerability on her transparent face. She gave that only to him. It was a privilege, a treasure, and yet, a great responsibility.
“You’re upset with me.” She made it a statement.
“Not with you,
kessake
. I am upset with myself. Stay alert. The undead are traveling in packs. I have not had the time yet to remove all evidence of his presence.”
She opened her mouth and then as abruptly closed it, nodding once before turning her attention to Marguarita.
Dominic didn’t touch Solange as he wanted. He strode from the room and went into the smaller bedroom where Etienne first had questioned Marguarita. This was her room. She kept the house for the absent owner while her father and Cesaro ran the large cattle ranch. She’d probably never met Zacarias, but loyalty was so ingrained in the families—from birth, the secret of the Carpathians entrusted to their lineage—and all of them would rather die than betray their honor.
He sighed as he meticulously repaired the damage to the structure and removed all evidence of the attack. Etienne’s master would know he was dead and he would want to know where it had happened and how. If he came looking, he would find no evidence of Zacarias or Etienne in this place. He would remind Cesaro to exercise caution with the body of Marguarita’s father. It would be best to incinerate it. The undead riddled with parasites often left them behind in the ragged wounds and they would call to their masters. Marguarita had none in her bloodstream, but Dominic had interrupted the attack so that the vampire hadn’t had the time to inject his passengers into her.
He glanced around the room. A woman’s room. Did Solange have a woman’s room hidden away somewhere? He doubted it. She would be ashamed to acknowledge that side of herself. She considered the warrior strong and the woman weak. She would hide the softer side from everyone who knew her. His body reacted to that thought. She wouldn’t hide it from him. He would peel back the layers until the woman was exposed and given exclusively to him.
His.
Like Solange, he’d never had anyone of his own. He’d never belonged to anyone. The idea that she was his and his alone and would never want to be anyone else’s was an intriguing thought.
As he worked fast in the room, he noted everything: the brushes, the mirrors and the perfume bottles. Everything in the room suggested Marguarita was ultrafeminine, and yet she’d had a backbone of steel, refusing to give up her employer in the face of certain death. The hideous, vile creature tormenting her hadn’t broken her. Women could be many things. They came in all shapes and sizes with vastly different personalities, but no matter what was on the surface, it was what lay beneath that counted to him—as it did for all Carpathians. They could see into the mind, and what lay there, along with the heart and soul of the women, was what made them beautiful, not that outside package.
He knew Solange well enough now that if he should tell her the outside package didn’t matter at all to a Carpathian, she would take it wrong. She would feel that was his way of politely saying he saw her body as she did—unattractive—and that was far from the truth. He retraced Etienne’s steps, destroying all evidence of his passing. He found himself in the courtyard. The body had been removed, but the blood remained, staining the flower beds, the slabs of stepping stones and the dark, rich soil. Several plants had withered, the effects of nature coming into contact with the abomination of the undead. Vampires would easily spot that telltale sign from the sky.
Again, he was meticulous in removing all traces of the undead’s presence and the fight that had taken place here. If it was known that Zacarias had been here, this ranch and everyone in it would be targeted. Things had to appear mundane—as if no one had any idea of the presence of vampires. He was ravenous by the time he had finished. He knew the moment Cesaro approached, coming slowly, almost reluctantly, up behind him.
Dominic turned. “You have questions?”
Cesaro shook his head. “
Don
Zacarias sent word to me that you may need blood. He asked, as a favor to him, that I supply your needs. I gave him my word. He asked me to follow any instructions you might give.”
“Did he assure you that I would not harm you?” There was no making it easy with Zacarias’s safeguards on the man. He would know Dominic was taking his blood, and yet, courageously, he had followed orders. No, not orders; a request.
“This has been a traumatic evening for all of you,” Dominic said with a small sigh. “I do not wish to make it worse. Unfortunately the body of the young lady’s father must be incinerated. The undead leave behind small parasites that will call to their masters and draw them to this place. I am removing all evidence of the battle, but you cannot allow anyone to speak of this night, or even mention Marguarita’s injuries. It is for the safety of everyone here.”
Cesaro inclined his head. “We have been well trained in what to do. We are preparing the body now.”
“I know you would prefer to burn it yourselves out of respect, but my way will be faster, cleaner and will ensure no parasites escape. It will also not provide a beacon for the undead.”