The Warrior Vampire (7 page)

The air left Ronan's lungs as a fist made solid contact with his gut. His fangs disengaged from Naya's throat as he stumbled, his back meeting violently with the closed bedroom door. The haze of lust that burned through him quenched in an instant. He let out a quiet moan and cupped the back of his head; his brain had been jarred from his skull cracking against the molding that surrounded the doorjamb.

In the time it took him to gather his wits Naya had collected her dagger from the floor. She rushed at him, poising the tip of the blade over his heart. One hand wrapped tightly around the grip, the other palm braced against the pommel, she leaned in close and seethed, “How
dare you
take my blood!”

In his experience, women who wielded daggers didn't usually respond well to diplomacy, but he was willing to give it a shot. “Easy, Naya.”

“Easy?” Her incredulous tone prickled over his skin. “What you did was a
violation
!”

The word sat heavy on Ronan's chest. Dirty. Shameful. As though the thought of it disgusted her. A warning growl gathered in his chest and Ronan bared his fangs. “What I did was my right as your
mate
!”

 

CHAPTER

5

Naya stared at Ronan. Dumbstruck.

Mate? Had the entirety of the male population lost their ever-loving minds today?

And, for that matter, had she?

Pleasure radiated through her body, suffused with a warmth that left her feeling boneless. Her core still pulsed with the need to finish what Ronan had started and her arousal dampened her underwear that clung to her heated sex. He'd wound her tight, bringing her to that place of mindless want so quickly that she'd lost herself to him before she'd even realized she was gone. Even now, she wanted to lower the dagger and resume where they'd left off. She gave her head a shake, as much to dislodge the music of the magic that clung to him from her ears as to banish the sensation of his touch from her skin.

He'd thrown her off her game. A feat very few males had ever managed to accomplish.

Her shock took a backseat to her anger as Naya brought her fingers up to the dual sets of punctures in her neck. There was magic in blood. A power that could be exploited by the right person. And by drinking hers, Ronan had consumed her
magia,
taking that power into himself. Had the vampire known what he was doing when he'd latched onto her throat? Did it matter?

“Let me close the punctures.” His voice was as warm and smooth as dark chocolate. Silver chased across his gaze as he reached out and Naya pressed the tip of the dagger deeper into his flesh. He stilled. The tiniest shift in pressure would cause the blade to break the skin.

“Don't even think about touching me, vampire.” Naya drew on her own power, concentrating her focus as it gathered within her. Warmth radiated from her fingertips as she brought them to her skin. Magic penetrated the wounded flesh that tightened and healed in a matter of seconds.

Ronan stared, rapt, at the spot where his mouth had just been, and a thrill chased through Naya's veins at the untamed heat in his gaze.
Dios mio. Get a grip.
She couldn't afford to let him get the upper hand again.

“A talented female.” Ronan's voice was dark smoke that stole the starch from Naya's spine. She leaned in toward him, drawn in as though by gravity. “But you've denied me the pleasure of putting my mouth on you again to close the wounds myself.”

“That will be the one and
only
time you put your mouth on me, vampire.”

Ronan leaned toward her, but Naya held her ground—and the dagger still—refusing to move. The tip of the blade sank past the barrier of his skin. Her gaze flicked down to where crimson bloomed and spilled over the curve of his pec. The dagger grew hungry in her palm, eager to sink deeper, and she held the blade in check. Once it had a taste for the stolen magic that had secured itself to the vampire's blood, it would only want more.

“You've tethered me.” His breath was warm in her ear and Naya suppressed a shiver. “So believe me when I tell you, Naya. That it
will
happen again.”

The air left her lungs in a shuddering breath. Until last night, Naya had been operating under the assumption that the vampire race was long extinct. She didn't know the first thing about them. “What do you mean, tethered?” Naya held her breath as she waited for a response that she was sure she wouldn't like the sound of.

Ronan's gaze settled on the dagger still pressed to his chest. “I'd be more cooperative if you considered sheathing your weapon.” A rumble built in his throat and Naya cocked a questioning brow. He raised his eyes, gorgeous green gems rimmed with silver, to hers. “I don't respond well to threats.”

“This isn't a threat,” she assured him. The dagger dug itself deeper and Naya resisted the tug. Like the blade in her hand, some unseen force drew her to Ronan, urged her closer. “If I don't get some answers, soon, I'm going to run this blade straight through your heart. Understand?”

His gaze lit with fire, and a sardonic smirk accented his full lips. Cocky bastard. “For another go at your vein, I'd risk the blade.”

Gods. They could go on like this for hours. Naya had a sinking suspicion that the vampire's stubbornness would equal her own and they'd be stuck like this, the tip of her blade embedded in his skin while he worked his overconfident charm. At this rate, she wasn't going to get any of her questions answered. But neither was she willing to let her guard down.

“I'll make you a deal. You lower the dagger, I'll behave myself. I give you my word. We'll sit. I'll answer your questions to the best of my memory.”

She cocked her head to the side as if contemplating his angle. His mouth hitched in a half smile that caused Naya's stomach to do a backflip. It was almost as though he liked that she was suspicious of him. “You can sit. But not in here.” Naya jerked her head toward the door. “The living room.”

Ronan pushed himself away from the wall and she reacted, pressing the point of the dagger against his chest. His lips twitched again. “I like that you're feisty, but that doesn't mean I appreciate having that damned knife anywhere on my body.” He raised his hands as if in surrender and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Naya mirrored his actions, ready to defend herself if he decided to attack. “I'm not planning anything, so cut me a little slack here. It'll be safer for both of us if you keep that blade at a respectable distance. Okay?”

His eyes grew serious as she assessed him. “And why's that? Thinking of going for my jugular next time, vampire?”

Ronan swept his hand toward the door in invitation. Cocky
and
high-handed. “Living room. Sit. Then we'll talk.”

“Right,” Naya scoffed. “Like I'm going to treat you as if you're nothing more than a docile kitten. No way are you dictating what happens here. You're my prisoner and I'm in charge. We do this my way. Got it?”

“You can cuff me if you want,” he suggested as he followed her gaze toward the floor and the chains discarded there. “I won't fight you.”

“All right,” she said slowly. “Turn around, face the wall, and put your hands behind your back.”

Naya backed away from Ronan, the dagger held in a defensive position. This had turned out to be one gut punch of a day. First the elders had smacked her with that insane mandate, and now a dangerous vampire was loose in her apartment. What could possibly happen next?
Don't answer that.
She approached the bed, her dagger trained on Ronan's chest.

“I said, turn around and face the wall.” She wasn't going to leave anything to chance. He cocked a brow, a corner of his mouth teasing at a half smile. She flicked the dagger at him to urge him on and he sighed. “I usually stab first and ask questions later, so be thankful that I'm in a charitable mood today.”

“This is charitable?” Ronan asked, that damn half smile returning to his face. His moss green eyes sparkled with a mischievous light and Naya couldn't help but admire the chiseled features of his handsome face and the way his tawny hair fell across his brow, almost brushing his long lashes. “I'd hate to see you when you aren't feeling so generous.” He held his arms up again in compliance and turned toward the wall. He braced his legs apart and put his hands behind his back, palms facing outward. Apparently he wasn't a stranger to the command “assume the position.” Figured. Naya had known from the moment she'd laid eyes on him that he was trouble.

Magnificent. But still trouble.

When she felt confident enough that she'd have the upper hand in the event he went back on his word and decided to attack, Naya slid the dagger into its sheath and retrieved the chains and cuffs from the floor. The incantation she'd used to reinforce the headboard had been a simple one and it took almost no concentration at all to release the spell, but that didn't mean she wasn't surprised as hell at the havoc Ronan has wreaked to release himself. The sturdy metal frame looked as though it was made of nothing more than flimsy wire, bent and curled backward until the slats of the headboard looked like a jagged metal crown.

The chains jangled as Naya gathered them in her hands. Ronan tensed, and every muscle on his well-built body went rigid. Naya wondered at his reaction and thought about drawing the dagger from its sheath. She'd seen animals tense like that when they were cornered, and Ronan was no harmless woodland creature. No, he reminded her more of a desperate wolf. “I'm going to cuff you now,” she said in a placating tone. “And I'd advise you not to do anything sketchy, got it?”

“I already gave you my word.”

“And you also promised me that you wouldn't hesitate to sink your fangs into my throat again. Just don't move.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he drawled.

The words rolled off his tongue, smooth. Naya felt a stirring in her gut that had nothing to do with fear. Who in the hell was he? A gorgeous, powerful—not to mention bloodthirsty—stranger who knew her name and was … what? Trying to
flirt
with her while she tied him up? She reached down and captured one of his wrists in her grip. He clenched his hand into a fist, and Naya could practically feel the tension rolling off of him. Ronan's skin was warm, warmer than she thought a vampire's should be. The music that had been so riotous in her ears calmed. He had an iron grip of control, the notes resonating in Naya's soul one at a time, like a music box that needed to be wound. Was he even aware of the power contained in his massive form?

As she secured the first cuff, the pace of his breathing increased. The muscles rippling across his back expanded and contracted at a rapid rate, as if he were on the verge of panic. She hadn't noticed his distress earlier, when he'd been bound to the bed.
Don't feel sorry for him. In fact, don't feel
anything
for him. Dangerous. He's a threat. Get your shit together, Naya
. Quickly she grabbed the second cuff and secured his other wrist. The chains were too long for her liking. She didn't want to give him the benefit of mobility. So she pulled the chains together, giving Ronan only a few inches of breathing room, and with her free hand retrieved the dagger from its sheath. Naya ran the blade through the links, joining the chain. She focused her magic, channeling it through her body, down her arm and wrist, and into the blade. It flashed white-hot for a single moment, just long enough to fuse the chains together.

Naya let out the breath she'd been holding and pulled back on her power, centering herself once again. It took a fair bit of energy to manifest her magic so quickly and it had taken a toll on her already-exhausted body. Without realizing it, she reached out, bracing herself with her palm on Ronan's back.

“Are you all right?” He turned his head to glance at her from over his shoulder.

“Living room,” Naya ordered as she dropped her hand to the chain and guided Ronan toward the door.

True to his word, Ronan played the obedient captive and allowed Naya to direct him out of the bedroom and into her living room. The space was sparsely furnished with only one couch, but it was open and bigger than the bedroom, so if need be Naya had the space she'd need to fight if Ronan decided to retaliate. She turned him around and pushed against his shoulder with two fingers, urging him to sit down. He complied with that lopsided grin and Naya couldn't help but roll her eyes. Gods, he must have had women falling at his feet with that expression. Rather than sit and thereby put herself at a disadvantage, Naya chose to stand a good eight feet away at the far end of the room near the small fireplace, giving her plenty of space to prepare for an attack. She propped her elbow up on the mantle and cocked her head as she appraised her prisoner. “You said you wanted to talk. So … talk.”

Ronan sighed, and again Naya pictured him running his fingers through the thick tangles of his hair. “I'm not even sure where to begin.”

Great.
She should have known he'd try to weasel his way out of talking. “You lied to me earlier when you said you didn't know my name.”

“Not true.” Ronan rolled his shoulders and Naya couldn't help but notice his discomfort. “I didn't know your name when you asked me, and to tell you the truth, I don't know how I know it now. It could be that I know it through our tether.”

“That smells like bullshit to me.” There were ways to get the truth out of him. But neither were options Naya was willing to explore just yet. “You're throwing some weighty words around, vampire. ‘Mate' being one of them. And I don't know what in the hell a tether is, but if that's how you know my name and that I'm in some kind of danger, it's time you came clean.”

He flashed another lopsided grin and she gritted her teeth, more to keep from smiling back than anything. He had the charming angle down pat. “I still don't remember anything that happened last night. Maybe if you filled me in, it would jog my memory?”