Bond of Darkness (17 page)

CANCUN, THAT NIGHT

"Yoshi." Georges cuffed the Japanese vampiro, splitting his lip and drawing blood. "Did you go shopping in Mexico City—against my orders?"

"Fuck you!" The smaller man's tongue darted out to taste a single crimson drop. The dying moon barely lit the beach outside this small Cancun resort hotel.

"Clothes or women?" Georges demanded, lifting his hand for another blow.

Fangs flashed in defiance and Georges lifted his hand for another blow.

"Clothes," Yoshi sneered an instant later, proving he wasn't a complete fool.

"
Oui
?" Georges considered the other's attire, testing his answer's truth. Yoshi the Fair was as well dressed—and as pretty—as his name. Also an incredibly creative killer, a good lay—and unfortunately, all too easily bored.

"And I killed a couple of women, too—practicing for when we really start fucking Texas."

Merde
. Well, he had to admit the boy was blunt—and a true member of the bandolerismo. As lawless as they came and always out for himself. At least there truly was enough land in Texas to give each of them an esfera, just as Georges had promised.

"But I came back, didn't I? Just like you ordered." Yoshi flipped his knife end over end, steel briefly catching the light. He shot Georges a quick glance, not meeting his eyes. "How much longer am I supposed to stay here?"

His tongue tasted his lip again.

"You must convince me you can be completely trusted." Georges said sternly, studying the slow glide of that telltale tongue. "At least tonight."

"Of course! You know I'd do anything…" He stopped, biting his lip. Anger flashed across his face for a moment.

Georges concealed his smile. Ah, the many uses of vampiro blood! Especially when one vampiro was decades older than the other. Yoshi was probably remembering the last time he'd crawled for a taste of Georges's blood, his eyes hot with lust.

Georges pinched the younger man's earlobe, twisting and squeezing it.

Yoshi flushed but leaned into the rough caress.

Georges rewarded him by running his thumb over the younger man's mouth, teasing him with vampiro sweat's mild aphrodisiac.

Yoshi hissed softly.

"And tomorrow there will be more than enough excitement when you begin scouting the Texas commanderies," Georges crooned, his teeth scraping the little killer's ear. A couple of quick flicks with his fingers opened the young dandy's new trousers.

Madame Celeste needed to know where the Texas warriors were, their fortresses, their supplies, their strengths, and their weaknesses. She'd grown a great deal since he'd met her, from the girl who always moved in a man's shadow to the strong woman who took her own counsel.
Mon dieu
, the fools who'd thought money would turn him against her!

"Spy? That's impossible! Not in Texas." The other's Adam's apple bobbed frantically, probably once for every nasty rumor he'd heard of Templeton.

"But you'll enjoy doing it for me, won't you? Because I'll certainly enjoy killing you, if you won't," Georges purred—and brutally twisted his fingers around Yoshi's cock.

Yoshi's hips jolted forward. "You bastard!" he yelped.

Georges laughed and squeezed the hardening shaft. Tonight's meal would be delicious, flavored with both terror and sexual excitement.

ALONG THE RIO GRANDE RIVER BETWEEN MEXICO AND TEXAS NEAR THE RIO OSO, JUNE 30

The night was velvety black, as if even the moon didn't want to watch. A few stars glimmered above the mountains' crests but failed to gild the saguaros' spines. Water lapped against the sandy shores, muffled by a few plants and occasional small rocks.

A half dozen Toyota Land Cruisers stood poised on the Mexican side, surrounded by narrow-eyed men, their guns flagrantly on display. A single dirt road stretched before them, running clean and clear deep into Texas through the ancient notch between the mountains.

A scanner spewed out a continuous string of polite chatter, often causing involuntary flinches among its listeners but never catching their full attention.

Their master paced back and forth, continuously scanning the mountains, river, and sky. The guards watched him, never their vehicles.

Suddenly he threw back his head and laughed, pointing at the sky. A single small light was flying very low away from them and a chorus of relieved laughter echoed his sentiments.

He twirled his hand and pointed down the road. Seconds later, only plumes of dust and engine exhaust marked where they'd been.

Silvery apparitions shimmered into being along the mountain's flank—an Apache, a pair of Comanches, and a white man with a star in a wheel on his chest. They turned to watch the invaders pass, narrowing their eyes in disgust at the stench.

Blood will be spilled to erase this invasion
, the Apache said flatly.

Someone must be warned
, muttered one of the Comanches.
But how
?

The white man grunted.
There may be somebody we can talk to
.

AUSTIN. THAT NIGHT

Ethan slammed his pickup into park and swung its door open. An instant later, he was watching Steve's darkened apartment, her door barely visible beyond the parked cars in the complex's central courtyard.

Just checking it out to make sure everything was safe, of course. Yeah, right—and how many times had he told himself that before?

No robberies in the middle-class neighborhood she'd chosen and not much excitement, either. Was she hoping to find another Fred to settle down with?

Crap.

He had to make her understand what drove him or at least stop fighting it. But how could he get her to talk? He'd lost count of how many times she'd hung up on him.

Instead, he was stuck trying to meet her face-to-face. The goddamn war made finding time for that a near impossibility—especially since she worked days when the slightest touch of sunlight could kill him.

He scanned the house one more time, hoping for a single lamp to be lit and remembering how she'd demanded his driver's license the first time they'd met, silhouetted against her patrol car's headlights. Lithe and still very much a woman, especially with the Colt hanging from her belt.

No sign of her tonight. He was still tied to her in the darkness, whether she knew it or not.

He kicked the pavement, slamming pebbles against the curb, and spat a vicious string of curses into the air.

His phone vibrated against his hip, demanding his attention. "Templeton."

"Doctor O'Malley must attend a meeting in Austin today and Don Rafael is unhappy with the proposed security," Rough Bear announced.

Ethan blew out a breath before answering. "On my way."

He cast a last glance at her bedroom window and turned away, his lips compressed.

He never saw the ghost watching him, slouch hat pulled down and a star in a wheel on his breast.

AUSTIN. THE NEXT EVENING

The door's latch scraped against the lock, bringing Ethan to full alert. Emilio Alvarez, Luis' godson, slipped all too smoothly out of the grimy conference room into the narrow hall. The ceiling lamp's harsh glare passed over him, unfiltered by any screen.

Ethan's eyes narrowed and he reassessed the young SEAL more carefully.

Emilio shared his godfather's dark eyes, olive skin, and strong, lithe body. But his eyes sparkled with life now, surprising in a man who'd guarded his master's beloved for the past fourteen hours. He moved gracefully, as though he'd slept the clock around and only just woken up.

And he smelled faintly of Don Rafael, as if he'd drunk El Patron's blood and gained some of their master's greater strength and speed.

Ethan knew damn well Emilio was one of Don Rafael's compañeros. But he'd always been very lightly bound, just enough to help him heal from injuries during his naval career. He'd never been given enough blood to strongly affect his scent, since that would mean a stronger emotional tie, although it would have given him a compañero's full strength and speed.

To have that change now whispered that Emilio had gained the stability to hold such a link. Or that Texas's situation was so dire Don Rafael would take the risk of hurting someone he deeply cared about.

Ethan glanced down at the younger man. "Are they finally done talking?"

"Finally." Emilio gave an exaggerated shudder then grinned. "But only because the chairman's daughter called to remind him it was his wedding anniversary."

Wedding. Not that he'd ever even experience an anniversary! Ethan ground his teeth into a smile and telepathically ordered the armored Mercedes's driver to bring the car around.

As if to answer his prayer, Grania O'Malley emerged from the meeting, followed by her other bodyguard. She stopped in her tracks when she saw Ethan, one eyebrow lifting to challenge him before she came forward. Her voice held a queen's chill perfection when she spoke. His sister Aurelia couldn't have put him in his place any better after a bit of mischief. "I thought Caleb was going to drive us back?"

"He's hunting with Gray Wolf, Doctor O'Malley." Ethan bowed slightly, an homage his aristocratic Creole mother would have strongly approved of. "Don Rafael asked me to personally escort you."

"Of course." She relaxed subtly and he gave a twisted smile.

It had been decades since he'd needed Don Rafael's bona fides to gain a woman's acceptance.

He indicated the way with another bow and a wave of his hand. Her cell phone rang an instant later. "Rafael! Yes, of course, I'm fine. Ethan has come to fetch me home to you," she cooed, evoking a rumbling purr from the man at the other end.

Ethan shot a disbelieving glance sideways. He'd never heard such an adoring tone coming from his master's throat before, even distorted by a telephone.

Thankfully, O'Malley was aware enough of her surroundings to walk safely outside, down the stairs, and get into the back of the car. A mesnadero drove, shielded by bulletproof glass.

It was the first time in his life Ethan had been alone with a woman he wasn't sleeping with, or didn't hope to sleep with, other than a family member. Shit, he didn't know what to do, lest he offend her, and Don Rafael, by extension. Sit close or far? Watch her or stare straight ahead? Keep his hands folded or at his sides?

Oh hell, he'd better pretend it was a buggy ride with his mother watching.

Ethan watched their surroundings pass by, listened to the other guards' chatter from the chase car, and tried not to think about Steve. Supposedly, there was a big birthday party for one of the academy's instructors that night.

If she took one of those prosaico assholes home…

They were well along the road for home before Doctor O'Malley hung up. Time passed, measured in the road's sweeping curves, high vistas of deep valleys, and far ranches. Other cars faded and disappeared.

"Are you entirely happy, Ethan?"

He whipped around to stare at her. "Doctor O'Malley?"

"You heard me—and you didn't say I'm wrong." She looked straight back at him.

He swallowed a curse. "It's nor important."

"It is, if it affects Rafael."