Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: #Romance, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Occult fiction, #Horror, #Occult & Supernatural, #South America, #Vampires, #Fiction, #Shapeshifting, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #General
“This is a bad night.” Cesaro sighed. “Tell me honestly if Marguarita will live.”
“She will live. I do not know if she will speak again. We did our best, but her throat was very torn. She will have this place and all Carpathians will honor her for her sacrifice.”
Cesaro rubbed his temple, as if trying to ease a nagging headache. “Our people have always been De La Cruz. We fight for them, guard them and are honored to die in their service. Marguarita is no different. We will take care of her.” He took a breath, let it out. “It would be an honor to carry out
Jefe’s
wishes.”
“You are certain,” Dominic asked, liking the man more and more.
“I believe so.”
Dominic didn’t waste time. Every cell in his body was crying out for sustenance. He’d been using so much energy to heal Marguarita and to remove all signs of the battle that he’d grown pale. He moved toward the man rather than force Cesaro to walk to him.
“My people exist on blood, just as you exist on the meat of animals. We do not kill. Only the vampire does that.”
Cesaro’s swallow was audible. He nodded his head. “
Don
Zacarias has explained this to us. It is . . . difficult, but I wish to do this for you.”
“If you allow me to, I will help you not to feel anything. You will retain the memory without fear.”
Cesaro frowned, but shook his head. “I want to know what it feels like to serve those who have been so good to our families these long years.”
Dominic preferred to take the blood from the neck, as did all Carpathians, but he didn’t want this man’s heart to explode. He could hear the trepidation in his brave request, and the strong heart accelerating. It was all he could do to respect the man’s wishes and not calm him.
He swept his tongue over the offered wrist to numb the skin and then sank his fangs deep into the vein, almost in one continuous movement. Cesaro made a single sound, but he didn’t flinch or try to pull his arm away. Dominic understood why the De La Cruz family believed in these humans. They were loyal to a fault and just as courageous. Hot blood flowed into his body, soaking into cells, muscles and tissue, instantly providing strength, replenishing his energy.
He was careful not to take too much, but when he swept his tongue over the twin holes, closing them, Cesaro swayed and Dominic helped him to sit.
“It didn’t hurt like I thought it would,” Cesaro murmured. He gave Dominic a small smile. “One builds it up in his head until he is afraid, but there was little pain.”
“It can be dangerous,” Dominic reminded. “When we have lived too long and killed too many times, there is no longer feeling.”
“
Don
Zacarias told me that. He said you and your woman saved me. And saved him.”
Dominic shook his head. “Perhaps we made his choice easier. I will clean up the battlefield while you drink plenty of fluids. Then you must take me to the body and send everyone else away.”
Solange brushed back the stray trendrils of hair from Marguarita’s face. She looked like a beautiful broken doll lying there so still and pale. There were dark circles under her eyes, and two thick crescents of dark lashes fanned her cheeks. She had been a beautiful, vital woman just hours before. Solange sighed softly. There was so much violence in the world, especially, it seemed to her, against women. What had this woman done to anyone? She’d been living her life, happy. Now, her father lay dead and her throat was crushed. It all seemed so senseless to Solange. She’d spent nearly every day of her life working to prevent just such atrocities, and yet she seemed to fail at every turn.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” she murmured softly. Sometimes it felt as though she was always late, always just a little short, and the last couple of days had been bad ones.
She removed Marguarita’s shoes and socks and drew a blanket over her. It would be up to the people on the ranch to see to her care now. “How are they going to explain all this?”
“They have doctors in the family,” Dominic said from behind her.
She whirled around, a growl emerging. No one snuck up on her. She was cat. She scented the presence of others, yet there he stood, taking up the room with his wide shoulders and powerful frame.
“How did you get in here?”
“I used another form. It seemed easier than trying to remain unseen by the workers. Are you ready to go?”
He spoke in that same gentle voice, but she knew there was an edge to him. There had been ever since she’d given her blood to Zacarias. She tried to figure out what she’d done wrong. It had been a long while since she’d spent so much time in anyone’s company, and especially the company of a man. How could she be what he wanted when she could barely force herself to speak to him? Was a relationship supposed to be so difficult, or was she making it that way? She had no idea how to act. What to feel or think. Or say. Especially say.
Solange wanted to tell him she knew she could be all he could ever need, but she didn’t believe it. She didn’t want another woman touching him, sharing his time, his life, even his laughter or conversation. She knew she had somehow taken an irreversible step when she’d told him the truth about her blood. She’d opened the door for the possibility of a future. She was terrified of the consequences. She didn’t give her heart into a man’s keeping, it just wasn’t done. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from wanting him.
He took away the utter loneliness she’d endured for most of her life. She told herself it wasn’t real, that he’d been her dream and she’d given the real man her dream man’s characteristics, but she knew better. Dominic was—Dominic. He was also Dragonseeker, and that gave her more pause than him being male.
She’d heard the name
Dragonseeker
. The title had been whispered, a legend. A terrifying myth. Even the De La Cruz brothers inadvertently lowered their voices when speaking of the Dragonseeker. She hadn’t thought him real, more a story told in Carpathian society, a great warrior, a fierce fighter, so strong no one in his lineage had ever turned vampire. She had seen the respect Zacarias gave him, and Zacarias respected few. She knew Zacarias had a fierce reputation as well, yet he had definitely stepped back from Dominic.
It was difficult to equate the man who treated her so gently with the whispered legend. She took a quick look up at his face. She could see the stamp of ruthlessness there in those lines etched so deep. He had given her the best moments of her life in the short time they’d been together, but at what price? He was not someone she could ever push around, and she had a fiery temperament. What would happen when she opened her mouth and the wrong thing came out?
“Solange?” he prompted. “Are you ready?” He held out his hand to her.
Her heart jumped into her throat. She could never take his hand publicly. What if someone saw her? She would look girly . . . weak. Her pulse went wild. Frantic. He simply looked at her, his ever-changing eyes on her face, compelling her to step forward and put her hand in his. Women did it all the time, held hands with their man. She rubbed her palms along her thighs in agitation.
He didn’t drop his hand, only continued to look at her. She scented the air and licked her suddenly dry lips, her gaze flicking toward the door, checking for anyone close.
“Look at me,” Dominic instructed. “Only at me. It does not matter what anyone else thinks or feels. Only me.”
“It’s just that . . .” She trailed off under his burning gaze.
Why
couldn’t she just do such a simple thing? What was wrong with her? She found herself shaking her head, stepping back away from him, knowing she was blowing the only chance she had at happiness, but unable to reach for his hand.
He didn’t waver. Didn’t drop his arm. He crooked his finger at her. “I am aware of the location of every person on this ranch, and aware of your fears. Do you not trust me to look out for you?”
She wanted to sob at the look in those piercing blue eyes. Of course he knew where everyone was. He shouldn’t have had to remind her. She knew he wouldn’t take the step to her. She was going to have to do it. She glanced at the woman so silent and pale on the bed. Marguarita could have done it and she wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
Was pride getting in the way? Her pride was already in tatters. She closed her eyes, took a breath and stepped forward, placing her hand in Dominic’s. At once his fingers closed around hers, making her feel small and far too vulnerable. He drew her to him, close so that her body was nearly touching his. So she could feel the heat radiating from him.
“That’s my little cat.”
The approval in his voice warmed her and that frightened her. She’d never needed or sought anyone’s approval. Why was it so important to her? She was upset with herself that she’d never asked Juliette or MaryAnn about how they felt when their men were upset or happy with them. Was she normal? Who was she kidding? There was nothing normal about her.
He brought her hand to his mouth. She could feel the warmth of his breath, see warmth in his eyes, although she could barely look at him. She was
so
going to blow this. Her stomach flipped and her womb spasmed when he nibbled on the ends of her fingers.
“Are you ready?” he asked again.
Ready to be alone with him again? Was she ready for that? She doubted it, but what was she going to do? It was better to just not say anything. She nodded her head.
He let go of her and a part of her was grateful while another idiotic part wished he was still holding her close. He bent over Marguarita and she tasted bitterness in her mouth. Her cat slammed hard against her skin and, glancing in the mirror, she saw her eyes had gone completely jaguar. She turned away from that display of female jealousy. She was sad for poor Marguarita, her life changed for all time, yet she was anxious that Dominic might compare them. Marguarita was a beautiful woman, slender, with curves and flawless skin, while she was . . . all sinewy muscle and padding.
Dominic turned, and this time he was frowning. “I do not like your unflattering comparison of my woman to another.”
Her heart did that now familiar jump. She sighed.
Maybe you shouldn’t be reading my thoughts without my knowledge.
She couldn’t help the thought from popping into her head and she winced, hoping he didn’t hear that. She squashed every snippy thing she wanted to say and bit down hard on her lip. She couldn’t imagine what he would do when she gave him attitude—which was inevitable. Even her younger cousin Jasmine, who loved her very much, said she had a major attitude problem.
“You seem to be having problems censoring what you are thinking.” There was amusement in his voice. He didn’t wait for her reply, but led the way out into the yard.
Cesaro sat in a chair on the front verandah. He looked tired and worn, but he managed a small smile. “I will send my wife in to Marguarita. She’ll stay with her until the doctor gets here. The doctor is my brother, so have no fear, there will be no one speaking of this terrible night. And thank you for killing that monster.”
Dominic gave a small, formal bow and continued striding away from the ranch into the trees. Solange lifted her hand, and without speaking, followed Dominic until the forest swallowed them completely. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Solange staying a few steps behind and to his left, giving him plenty of room to maneuver should they run into an enemy.
“How far are we walking?” she asked.
He stopped and turned, his gaze thoughtful as it drifted over her. “It is a distance to our lair,” he acknowledged. And waited.
Her breath hissed out between her teeth. Instinctively she knew what he wanted from her, and that stubborn part of her just didn’t want to go there. She was
not
going to ask to be carried. What was she? A child? She could walk. She could walk all night if she had to. Maybe she’d just shift into her cat and make it easier . . .
“No.” His eyes stayed locked with hers, refusing to allow her to look away.
She bit her lip hard. “What do you want?”
“I think you should answer that question.”
“You don’t understand. Really. You don’t.” Frustrated, Solange shoved her fingers through her hair, making more of a mess out of the thick mass than it had already been. “You think you know me, but you don’t. If I open my mouth I’m going to ruin all this.”
A slow, sexy smile softened the hard edge to his mouth and set the butterflies free in her stomach. “I doubt that very much, Solange. You are my lifemate. It does not work that way at all. You cannot ruin it, nor can I. We will find our way with each other. You just have not chosen to commit to our relationship yet.”
She shook her head. “I have. I told you about my blood, that it could get rid of the parasites. I didn’t go after Brodrick while you were gone. That’s commitment.”
“Then why do you find it so difficult to ask such a simple thing from me as to transport us back to our lair?”
When he put it like that, it did sound silly. But she wasn’t in the habit of asking favors. She was more honest with herself than that. Okay. It wasn’t about favors. She didn’t want to show weakness. Or ask him for anything. She hated that he was right. It was about trust, but how did one become different? She
wanted
to be different. She just couldn’t get past that terrible wall she’d built around herself in order to survive.