Dark Predator (21 page)

The mouse screamed, lifting its head for air as the sap encased it, eating the hapless creature alive, right through the fur, through the walls of skin and tissue, to devour the tiny bones. That sap could devour a steer, horse or human—just as easily. Zacarias noted every place the vines had grown and headed toward the small home where Cesaro and his family lived. It would be necessary for the humans to recognize the plant and mark it without going near it as well as ensuring all animals stayed away from it.

Cesaro answered his call immediately, coming out onto the verandah, still buttoning his shirt and closing the door hastily on the growling, cowering dog behind him. “Is something wrong,
señor
?”

He looked as uneasy as his dog acted. Zacarias stepped off the porch to put a little distance between him and the dog now at the window, snarling and nearly foaming at the mouth. There was no doubt animals were disturbed by his presence.

“Unfortunately I have found evidence of evil creeping onto the ranch. I want you to come with me so you can identify the plant to all those working under you before I destroy it. It will kill, not only plant and animal life, but human as well.”

Cesaro immediately nodded his head. “Do you need my son?”

Zacarias first thought to shake his head. As a rule he avoided contact with the workers, knowing he made them every bit as uneasy as he did the livestock, but maybe he needed to spend some time with Julio. Zacarias knew he was far too much of a predator to allow his woman to be with a man she felt genuine affection for, so to keep Cesaro’s son safe, it was best to ascertain his intentions toward Marguarita.

“Yes. We want to make certain there is no place on the ranch that this plant grows. Your son spends a good amount of time in the saddle and he covers a good deal of territory.”

“I’ll just be a moment.” Cesaro disappeared into the house.

The dog was annoying. Zacarias put up with the irritating snarling a couple more minutes and then he waved his hand and the noise ended abruptly. The dog continued to stare out the window, but when he opened his mouth to bark or growl, no sound emerged.

Cesaro hurried out followed by Julio. The boy looked younger than Zacarias remembered. In truth, he’d barely glanced at the kid when he’d yanked him through the window, intending to kill him for daring to put his hands on Marguarita. Julio touched his neck and then straightened his shoulders.

“We won’t take the horses,” Cesaro told his son, shooting a quick glance toward Zacarias. “Not until we’ve seen everything Señor De La Cruz needs to show us.”

Zacarias led the way toward the back field. Already, the vines had circled the fencing and had grown thick along the back corner. He waved his hand toward the plant. “That is deadly to anything living that comes near it. I will incinerate it, but you will have to be very vigilant. All of you. It will continue to return as long as I am in residence.”

“How long do you plan to stay?” Cesaro asked.

Zacarias pinned him with a cool gaze. “Indefinitely.” The man paled beneath his bronzed skin, so Zacarias took pity on him. It had to be said eventually. “There is an unforeseen complication.”

Cesaro glanced at Julio.

Zacarias sighed. “I do not like it any more than you do. As much as you are disturbed by my presence, I am disturbed by yours.”

“You misunderstand,
señor.
This is your home and certainly you should stay as long as you wish,” Cesaro corrected hastily. “It is just that Marguarita is needed with the animals and our regular routine is important to keep to. We have a couple of mares ready to give birth any day now and with you present, the cattle have to be watched continually. She’s good at soothing all the animals.”

“I am afraid you will have to get along without her.”

Julio glanced at him sharply. He pulled his hat down closer over his eyes. “Is she all right?”

“Why would she not be all right?” Zacarias challenged.

“She is always out with the horses,” Cesaro explained. “It is worrisome that she hasn’t gone to the stable and at least checked the mares.”

“She is fine.” That wasn’t altogether the truth. He had thrown her across the room and hadn’t even checked her out. He was always forgetting how fragile humans were.

“I’d like to see her,” Julio said.

Zacarias halted abruptly. He felt the familiar cold sweep through his body. His gaze focused on the younger man, a direct, predatory stare. He felt the need to kill building, that raw desire to remove every obstacle from his path. “Why?”

Cesaro edged closer to his son but Zacarias stopped him with a flick of his gaze. Tension stretched. Julio refused to be intimidated, ignoring his father’s restraining hand.

“Marguarita is like a sister to me. I love her and I need to know she is safe and well and happy. She would never willingly avoid checking the horses. The horses are her passion and the fact that she hasn’t come out to the stables is not a good sign.”

“Marguarita is my lifemate.”

Cesaro drew in his breath, shaking his head in denial, his shock plain. Julio frowned and looked to his father for an explanation.

“That can’t be,
señor
,” Cesaro protested. “She is one of us, not Carpathian. There is some mistake.”

“What does that mean?” Julio demanded. “I don’t understand what that means.”

“It means she belongs to me. She is my woman. My wife. And that puts her in more danger than you can possibly imagine. If it becomes known that she is my lifemate, every vampire and his puppet the world over will be looking to kill her. It is far safer for her to be inside the dwelling until I can remove the immediate danger to her.”

Julio shook his head. “You can’t just come here and decide that Marguarita is your woman. She may work for you, but she has rights. What does she say about this?”

“Julio,” Cesaro hissed in warning.

“She has no say in the matter,” Zacarias said, pitching his voice low—a velvet warning. “In our world, the man claims his woman and she is bound to him. There is no going back for either of them.”

“It’s a mistake.”

“It is impossible to make a mistake,” Zacarias said. “She is mine.”

“You don’t sound happy about it,
señor
,” Cesaro said quickly, interrupting his son before Julio could speak. “Perhaps in this instance, something could be done to free her. Surely you don’t want to be saddled with a human woman—one that can’t speak.”

There was a short silence while Zacarias turned the idea over and over in his mind. All along, he had been thinking that exact thought—he didn’t want to be saddled with a human woman—any woman—but especially one who didn’t know the first thing about obedience. He had considered walking away from her, just leaving her without a word. He’d thought to stay a few days just to see color and feel just a little before ending his days. Hearing Cesaro give voice to his own thoughts changed everything.

He felt his gut tighten, his body react physically to the thought of losing her. His mouth went dry, something viselike squeezed his heart hard in his chest. Everything he was rebelled against the idea of breaking the ties between them. Marguarita was
his
woman. He wasn’t about to find a way to be free of her. He didn’t believe there was a way, but even so, she belonged to him and he would never give her up willingly. Not to the humans, not to the vampires and certainly not to another man.

So there it was. He had a lifemate, as crazy as the woman was, she belonged to him and he was keeping her. He flashed his teeth at Cesaro, allowing a flare of absolute predator to show in his eyes as a warning.

“I will not give her up. There is no discussion. If you both care for her as you say you do, this will stay between us. No one else can know, not even other members of your family. It is the only way to keep her safe.”

“Is she a prisoner?” Julio dared to ask.

Zacarias touched his mind. The man’s barrier was intact, but Zacarias had taken his blood and pushed harder to gain entry. Julio pressed his fingers to his temples, shaking his head.

“Just tell me what you want to know.”

Zacarias was already getting the impressions he needed. Julio did love Marguarita as a sister. It was a relief to know he wouldn’t have to kill Cesaro’s son. “Who is this man you do not like that keeps coming around to visit Marguarita?”

Julio looked startled. “Was I thinking about him?”

“You do not like the idea of Marguarita being my lifemate, but you like the idea of her being with this strange man even less,” Zacarias said. “Tell me about him.”

They were approaching the vine and Zacarias waved both men to a halt, not wanting them too close to the treacherous sap. “Just in the time I have spent with you, the vines have been busy.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Cesaro said. “The plant looks alive, eating everything in its path.”

Zacarias nodded. “The vampire bends everything to his evil purpose. He knows I am in residence and he will be nipping at my heels in the hopes of weakening me before he shows himself. Do not try to kill this plant yourselves. If anyone spots it, let me know immediately.”

Both men stepped well back when Zacarias waved them away from the destructive vines. Above their heads, clouds gathered, churned and boiled, silver veins flickered inside the turbulent patches. Lightning leaped along the ground, forks of white-hot energy traced the path of the thick vines, incinerating the wood, leaves and thick sap everywhere it touched. A foul smell much like rotting eggs permeated the air.

“Do not breathe it in,” Zacarias cautioned.

The trail of burning ash grew long and wide, racing over the ground and under it, following the path of the vines back to the original source—the edge of the rain forest. It was clear, seeing the blackened ash, the vine had been traveling toward the hacienda, searching for Zacarias’s resting place.

“Tell me about this man you do not like, the one you believe is courting my woman,” Zacarias commanded as they turned back toward the hacienda.

Light was just beginning to streak across the night sky, fading the stars and moon. Zacarias quickened his pace. Safeguards would be necessary throughout the ranch now.

“Esteban and his sister, Lea, moved here a few months ago,” Cesaro said, glancing at his son for confirmation. Julio nodded with a small frown. “Very wealthy and very arrogant. This is not the kind of man who settles here. He has no real interest in ranching or raising horses. I ask myself, why would this type of man come here to this remote part of the country when he is so obviously a city man?”

“That is a good question,” Zacarias affirmed. “Have you an answer?”

Julio sighed and shook his head. “We’ve talked it over several times. Either they’re hiding here, on the run from something or . . .” He trailed off and looked at his father.

“Or they’re hoping to get to a De La Cruz,” Cesaro admitted. “It is no secret who owns this land. It is far larger than any other holding here in our country, and although on record it looks as if each of your brothers has bought land to put together, one family having so much acreage is unusual. Your family has a certain reputation and many men would wish it to be known that you are friends. And the man, Esteban, often brings up the De La Cruz name, asking questions we do not answer.”

“It is possible they have knowledge they shouldn’t,” Julio added reluctantly.

“Did you express your concerns to Marguarita?” Zacarias asked.

“Marguarita is completely loyal to the De La Cruz family,” Julio snapped. “She would never betray you, certainly not to an outsider.”

“That is not what I asked,” Zacarias said.

Julio hung his head when his father sent him a dark scowl.

“No. Marguarita regarded Esteban and his sister as friends, no more than that,” Cesaro said. “She knew he was courting her, but then so were a lot of men. She showed no real interest so we thought it best to just tell her that he was an outsider and didn’t belong here. That is as far as it went.”

Zacarias nodded. “Do you really need her for the animals—the horses?”

Cesaro nodded. “Especially now. They are . . . disturbed.”

Zacarias broke away from the two men, heading back to the main ranch house. “Tomorrow evening then, she will help you.”

He didn’t wait for their response. It mattered little to him what they had to say. Marguarita was his woman, and for as long as he chose to remain on earth, no one else would direct her but him. He safeguarded the house, paying special attention to the foundation and the ground beneath the house before he added protection to the doors and windows. Only when he was completely certain Ruslan’s spies couldn’t penetrate his guards did he allow his mind to seek Marguarita’s.

She hadn’t moved from the floor in the kitchen. He found her sitting with her knees drawn up and her chin resting on top of them. She looked small and forlorn. His heart stuttered when her eyes met his. There was no condemnation in her expression or her mind. She simply looked at him with her dark chocolate eyes, her gaze drifting over his face, as if trying to read his mood.

Are you all right?

He found her warmth filling his mind. She didn’t pour into him as she had before, but drifted in just as her gaze moved slowly over his face. His heart found the rhythm of hers, slowed her frantic pace so that they beat in sync. There were tear tracks on her face and the sight offended him. He crossed to her side and reached down to lift her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She made no protest, but curled into him, resting her head against his shoulder. Her hair spilled around her face, hiding her expression, but she couldn’t hide her mind from his.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been meddling in things I don’t understand. Truly, Zacarias, I’m very, very sorry.

She was worried for him. She wasn’t thinking of herself or his reaction, the things he’d said and done to her, she was worried about how the memories had affected him.

“People do not worry about me, Marguarita.”

Someone should.

There was a hint of a smile in her voice and it warmed him. He turned her response over and over in his mind. “If I put you in your bed will you stay there?”