The Warrior Vampire (37 page)

Like the first time she'd laid eyes on him, Ronan threw his head back in agony. Magic leached from his pores as though his body rejected it. His chest heaved with labored breath and a shout of pain erupted from his chest with enough force to cause the branches of the surrounding trees to quake.

“He is
not
okay, Naya.”

“Yes, thank you, Manny. Don't you think I know that?” Her own frustration and anger was past the point of containment. She needed to go to him! Touch him. Soothe him until that dark force had no choice but to crawl back in its hole and sleep.

She took several rushing steps forward and Ronan's head snapped to attention. His eyes glowed with silver light and his lips pulled back to reveal the twin tips of his elongated fangs. “Not another step, Naya, not until your dagger is ready to strike. Do as I say, damn it!”

She'd never been one for following the rules. “Listen up, Ronan. I'm not giving you what you want. Understand? I'll die before I kill the male that I love.”

A pained howl burst from Ronan's lips, as though he couldn't bear to hear the words. Well, too damned bad. Naya didn't think she'd ever say them, either. But there it was; the truth of it couldn't be denied. Their souls were connected, bound forever. How could she not love him?

“That's right! I love you! So you'd better fight, Ronan, because I'm not letting you go. Not now. Not
ever
.”

The rustle of foliage in the distance drew Naya's attention from both the crisis on her left and the one on her right. She spun, dagger in hand and ready to fight. A large jaguar stalked out of the forest and onto the path.
Holy shit
. The cat was enormous, a hulking sinuous body with silky fur and rippling muscle. Dangling from his jaw was an unconscious Luz, her limp form looking very much like a mouse caught in the grip of a simple house cat.

Ronan hadn't been kidding when he'd suggested that someone from the pod had been drinking the Kool-Aid.
Good gods.
He'd fought that thing and walked away? This was no mapinguari. He looked like an animal right out of ancient history. He could have easily kept company with mammoths.

“Let her go.” Naya squared her shoulders and willed her spine to stiffen. That one of her own people would betray them was as good as a dagger through her heart. “If you've hurt Luz, I'm going to kill you.”

The Bororo males carried recognizable traits that made them easy to identify in their animal forms. Joaquin, for instance, had a black coat with a white spot that marred the fur below his throat. Dark magic had turned this particular shifter's form into something unidentifiable. He might as well have been a stranger to her.

Luz groaned as the cat deposited her in an unceremonious heap to the ground. She was alive. And for now, Naya would count it as a blessing. The cat craned his neck, taking stock of everything around him. Surrounded by crisis and unable to help anyone, Naya had never in her life felt so utterly alone.

Magic sizzled in the air, a deafening pop and hiss to accompany the din of music in Naya's ears. The sensory overload threatened to take her down, but Naya forced herself to remain stalwart. She could end this. Now. She simply needed to stay strong.

The shift was usually a fairly painless transition, from what she'd been told. Sort of like slipping into a pool of warm water. But the enormous jaguar screamed and thrashed his massive head as he left his animal skin behind. Clawing at the damp ground as he writhed.

Naya used the momentary distraction to grab Luz. She was weak but conscious. “I … I'm okay.” Luz pushed the words out in a slur. “This is some serious shit, Naya.”

That was the freaking truth.

She dragged her cousin several feet away from the epicenter of danger and tucked her in the bowl of a towering redwood. “Don't move,” Naya instructed. “Just sit tight and keep quiet, got it?”

“Mm-hhmm.” Luz couldn't manage more than a sound of acknowledgment, but it was good enough for Naya.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be,” Naya said to Manny. He sat in the middle of the circle, arms rested on his knees. “I owe you for tonight. Sorry everything went to crap.”

“It's all good,” Manny said in a less-than-convincing tone. “Just get rid of this magic before it harms anyone else.”

That was the plan.

She approached the shifting cat with caution, one tentative step after another. Her dagger held at the ready, Naya said, “Toss me the box, Manny. Just toward my feet.”

“Got it.”

The gold box landed on the ground beside her with a muted thud. A simple square with a slot on the top just big enough for her dagger to be inserted, it looked more like an elaborate piggy bank. She hoped it was big enough to contain the amount of dark magic that surrounded them. It was more than she'd ever had to banish before. What happened next would be a test of power and endurance that Naya refused to fail.

It didn't matter who he was. The male was tainted by the darkest of magic. She didn't know if he controlled the magic or it controlled him. Hell, maybe he was another unfortunate victim. Either way, she needed to bind him before it was too late. Naya was done with killing.

The last traces of the animal disappeared, and with it a strong wave of natural magic dissipated into the air. Naya let out a deep breath as some of the tension left her body and she shook out her shaking limbs and she continued to approach. He lifted his gaze to meet hers and the shock sent her stumbling back a step.

“Paul?”

Though really, should she have been the least bit surprised? He'd always been a bitter, power-hungry male who found immense satisfaction in lording his authority over the pod.

“Evolution is inevitable,” Paul said through heavy panting breaths. “And the
magia
is no longer yours to control,
bruja
.”

*   *   *

Ronan might as well have been encased in ice. The Collective was beyond his grasp; there was no shelter to be found there. Even his tether with Naya appeared to have weakened. When he tried to reach her through it—to pull from her strength—the bond felt tenuous and thin. As though it might snap with the slightest jostling.

His thirst was too intense. His need absolute. Nothing save a stake through his heart would save him now.

“Had you simply allowed yourself to be given to Joaquin, you wouldn't have put so many in danger. But as always, Naya, your stubborn willfulness proves that you are worthless to this pod.”

The male who spoke wasn't the human. Blind to everything but the cold that numbed his body, Ronan scented the air and found that the male who disrespected his mate with his callous words was the shifter he'd fought on the foot trail. The bastard who had dipped into the stores of dark magic to give himself an edge. And Naya faced him alone.

“You've betrayed
us,
Paolo.” Naya's voice thickened with her anger, the heat of it melting some of the chill that seized Ronan's body. “And you
lied
to me.
Used
me. It's time for you to answer for that.”

“You think you're in the position to take me to task,
mujer
?” The male laughed, and through the tenuous thread of their tether, Naya's anger further heated. Her rage cleared the icy fog in Ronan's head. “The pod listens to me, not you. I've found a way to circumvent nature, stupid girl. You and your ilk—like the legends of our people—are about to fade into obscurity. Dark can't exist without light. I'll pass this power on and with your help we'll breed a new race of our people. Mankind will tremble in our presence and we'll take this world back from the pathetic mundane who've disregarded their stewardship of the earth in favor of their own useless greed.”

“The earth isn't our responsibility and neither is policing humans. We follow
El Sendero
. It's what we've always done. You're crazy if you think any of the pods will follow in your wake. I won't let that happen.”

“Truly, Naya, I'd hoped you'd cooperate. But the truth is, I don't need you. Not as long as I have Luz.”

Ronan's soul howled in agony at the threat inherent in the male's words. Instead of fighting the grip of debilitating cold, Ronan let it in. Magical energy surged within him, a dark, sickening power that made his stomach turn. He couldn't let it take him. Not completely.

Ronan's vision cleared in an instant. A tall male, naked and enraged, rushed at Naya, catching her off guard as he took her to the ground. She cut crossways with the dagger, dragging the blade across his chest. He let out a rough shout as he rolled them over. The male's bulk pinned Naya to the ground and he wrapped his hands around her throat.

Ronan rolled to his hands and knees, his joints stiff as though frozen solid. He worked the tension loose as he pushed himself to stand, wobbling on his feet as he tried to find a balance between the dark magic that threatened to overtake him and his own consciousness that fought for control of his body, mind, and soul.

Until Naya was safe, not a gods-damned thing was going to take him down.

The balls of his feet dug into his boots and Ronan gained his footing and pushed off the ground at a dead run. Manny sat inside of the salt circle, surrounded by bright blue liquid light that poked at the perimeter of salt as though looking for a way through. Five feet ahead, the male looked up, his hands still wrapped around Naya's throat. Any male with balls enough to put his hands on Ronan's mate was guaranteed to meet a violent end.

Despite the chill that stiffened his joints, Ronan overtook Paul with ease. Like plucking fruit from the vine, Ronan swept him away from Naya and threw him to the ground. Behind him Naya coughed and spluttered, gasping for breath. “Ronan, don't kill him!” she rasped. “Paul's infected. We need him if we're going to find the chest and your sister.”

Could this be the son of a bitch who'd taken Chelle? “Where is she?” Ronan grabbed Paul by his hair and dragged him up until he was at eye level. His dark eyes gleamed with malice and his full lips pulled back into a sneer that revealed a row of straight, white teeth.

“The dhampir?” he asked with a superior chortle that made Ronan want to rattle his brain inside of his head. “You mean you don't remember? You were with her after all.”

His disbelieving chuff of breath steamed the night air. Could he have actually found his sister? Been with her before someone had infected him with this fucking dark magic? What else had happened that he couldn't remember? He tossed Paul back to the ground, as inconsequential as a discarded rag doll, and pressed his knee into the male's back as he pinned him face-first to the earth. “Where is she?” Ronan leaned in close until his mouth rested near the male's ear and railed, “Tell me!”

Magic rose up inside of him, a charge of power that left him feeling damn near invincible. His thirst raged—with an urgency that far surpassed anything he'd felt thus far—and demanded he glut himself on blood
. Do it,
the darkness urged.
Drain him
.

Ronan clamped down on his control, pushing back the cold, the
need
that threatened to master him. Soft, warm skin slid over his arm and he looked up to find Naya standing above him, her touch so gentle that it caused his heart to constrict in his chest.

“Stay with me, Ronan.” Her pleading tone nearly did him in. “Fight it. Be strong for me.”

Anything. He'd do
anything
for her. He couldn't push the words past the gods-damned lump that settled in his throat. He gave Naya a sharp nod of acknowledgment and kept his eyes focused on her. His powerful mate. Warrior. Goddess.
Mine.

“Okay.” She let out a slow sigh of relief. “Just hold him. I need Paul immobile so I can bind him. Once that's done, I'll banish the magic attacking Manny and we'll get Luz and get the hell out of here.”

The sooner they got the fuck back to town the better. The sooner they could find Chelle.

“He's trying to shift, Ronan. I've got to do this now.”

Ronan watched as Naya knelt on the ground beside Paul. He struggled against Ronan, but the bastard could fight all he wanted. He wasn't going anywhere. Beneath Ronan's hold, the male's muscles bulged and grew as his body sought to leave its human form. Naya's eyes met Ronan's, shining like water at midnight. She clenched her dagger in both fists, the tip pointed down, and drove it into the earth with a forceful shove.

Paul thrashed beneath Ronan's hold and let forth a string of profanity in English, Spanish, Portuguese, and another language that Ronan couldn't decipher.

“Shut the fuck up!” Ronan barked as he pressed Paul harder against the ground. “The only thing keeping you alive right now is the female you're disrespecting. One more word and I'll rip out your throat. Understand?”

Naya didn't acknowledge Ronan—her concentration was absolute—but her lips quirked at his words. Warmth rushed through their tether, chasing away the cold. Gods, she was extraordinary.

He watched with fascination as a soft blush light gathered in her palms. The serenity of the moment filled him with an odd sense of comfort. She was so calm: eyes closed, expression soft, her lovely mouth parted slightly with her measured breaths. The light spread from her cupped hands, engulfing her body in a halo of light.
Beautiful
. The sight of his mate bathed in magic was so lovely that it caused a lump of emotion to grow in Ronan's throat.

Naya tipped her hands and the pooled magic poured over Paul's body. He jerked against Ronan's hold, struggling as threads of magic twined around him, binding him as though with a length of rope. Her softly murmured words reached Ronan's ears, an ancient language that he didn't understand.

So in awe of her, Ronan could do nothing but stare.