The Warrior Vampire (8 page)

“See, your problem is that you think you can manipulate this conversation in your favor. That's just not going to happen, Ronan. So, you claim you can't remember anything that's happened since you breezed into town. Whenever that was. For the record, I'm not sure that I believe that, but we'll just skip over that for now. You have the answer to my next question and I want it. No more stalling. What is this tether? Does it have to do with the magic you've stolen?”

Ronan fixed her with a dubious stare. “Naya, I haven't stolen any magic. In fact, I wouldn't even know how to go about doing that. But I can guarantee you, pilfered magic or not, it has
nothing
to do with our tether.”

Our
. The word was spoken with a possessive edge that caused chills to break out over her flesh. As if this tether was some shared thing between them, something that Naya had been a willing party to.

It wasn't unusual to encounter other witches or supernatural creatures that came by their magic naturally. But even witches who used their natural power to channel dark magic had to answer for it eventually. It wasn't Naya's business to police them, however. She paid them little mind unless their dealings affected the tribe directly. Those instances were few and far between.

In the course of her job as an enforcer she mostly came across thieves and usurpers. Creatures that could no longer be counted as human once the magic they'd stolen had corrupted them. Ronan was an anomaly to her. She knew nothing about vampires or what innate magic they might possess. Either way, the power he'd exhibited the night she'd first seen him had been volatile. He'd been damn near ready to blow. But the sound of his magic—the pure, perfect tune that could so easily become tainted—was in direct contrast to everything she knew. And the way the song spoke to her scared her more than she was willing to admit.

*   *   *

Ronan rolled his shoulders again in an effort to ease the knot that had settled between his shoulder blades. The slow, even breaths weren't doing a damn thing for the unease that had begun to coil in his stomach like a tightly wound spring. He focused on his surroundings, on Naya, the sound of her voice … but it wasn't doing anything for the panic that continued to creep up on him as he tugged against the cuffs that bound his hands behind his back. His bloodlust sparked anew, fire meeting dry kindling in his throat. What he'd taken from her was merely a taste, not nearly enough to satisfy his thirst. Her scent drove him mad; the rich bloom of her arousal perfumed the air. A fiery female with a tendency for violence. Just the sort of trait Ronan admired in a bedmate.

The cuffs chafed his skin and Ronan clenched his jaw until his fangs dug into his bottom lip. Blood welled from the punctures and he flicked out with his tongue. Deeply unsatisfied. Despite the silver that continued to blister the skin at his wrists, he'd break his bonds in an instant to get to her. To taste her again. To feel the petal softness of her sex as he teased her.

Focus, you lust-addled bastard. Keep your shit together. Do. Not. Lose. Control.

Naya quirked a brow at his low growl. “Agitated, vampire? Believe me, it's nothing in comparison to what I'm feeling now. In fact, I'm starting to feel a little stabby. So get to talking.”

Gods, her fire.
Ronan squared his shoulders, stamped the lust that threatened to master him to the soles of his feet. “Before I explain, tell me, Naya, do you feel our tether?” Ronan carefully gauged her reaction. Most people didn't realize that even when they tried to stay expressionless, the tiniest shift or twitch could give away their thoughts. Naya had a great poker face, though. She was obviously well practiced at keeping her face virtually impassive.

“There is … something,” she answered with reluctance. Damn, her dark eyes bored right through him as if he were completely inconsequential. He didn't like it. “But I'm inclined to believe that what's drawing me to you is nothing more than the magic in your body and my own responding to it. Mates are paired in my world. And the last time I checked, no one gave me to a vampire.”

Gave her? Like she was nothing more than goods to be traded. A territorial growl rose in Ronan's chest. Who were these people that they'd trade Naya like stock? “In my world,” he countered, “a soul gives itself. Mine had been banished to oblivion. Yours called it back. My soul is tied to yours, Naya. Tethered.
That
makes you my mate.”

Her jaw slackened, softening her luscious mouth. Ronan's eyes were drawn there, held captive by the rosy flesh. He needed to kiss her again. To taste the sweetness of her mouth. He wouldn't rest until her tongue slid across his. Until her mouth yielded to his once more. “You feel this tether?”

He responded to her dubious tone with a solemn nod. “My soul was returned to me the moment I laid eyes on you. The
only
thing I know with certainty right now is that you are mine.”

Naya averted her gaze and her heart rate increased. The sound was music to Ronan's ears as he thought of the delicious blood pumping through her veins. Thirst scratched at his throat, but he pushed the sensation aside. He wouldn't gain any ground with her acting like an untamed beast, starved for her.

“I'm not sure what to do at this point. I know what I saw last night. Magic leached from your body. You could barely contain the power. If I'd come upon you a minute later it might have been loosed. It doesn't make any sense. There should be a corruption to it, the magic. And there is sometimes.” She shook her head as though frustrated. “But instead, it speaks to me in a way that no other has in my entire life.”

Interesting.
Maybe she felt their tether and simply didn't know it. “Speaks to you how?”

“The song,” she said. She kept her tone completely level, her emotions masked. “It's pure. But…” Naya paused as if trying to find the right words. “… only sometimes. Vampires don't come by magic naturally, do you?”

“There is an inborn power that connects all of vampire- and dhampir-kind,” Ronan responded. “And I suppose that when you tethered me, it awakened a certain … magic.” His smile grew as he regarded her serious countenance. “But I've heard no songs.”

A gnawing doubt scratched at the back of his mind. The presence of cold darkness that had overcome him earlier had certainly not been a side effect of his transition. Something foreign was indeed trying to manipulate him. But until Ronan had a better grasp of just what that was he thought it wiser to keep the information to himself.

Grim passivity remained on her face and Ronan realized that he wouldn't be able to get a good read on her. She was too damn practiced at concealing her emotions. “I can assure you, Naya, that we are tethered. Is it really so hard to believe?” She shrugged and Ronan didn't know if he wanted to give her a nice rough shake or kiss her. Maybe both. “You're obviously attuned to magical energy. Maybe what you're sensing is our bond?”

“Why don't you like to be tied up?” Naya asked, her tone showing genuine curiosity.

She certainly knew how to deflect. “I doubt any vampire would appreciate being bound with silver,” Ronan said with a smirk. “It's a knee-jerk reaction. Call it self-preservation. Now, about that song…”

Naya's eyes darted to the side, clearly to avoid meeting Ronan's gaze. Finally, he'd managed to rattle her. Looked like he wasn't the only person in the room who guarded their secrets. She lifted her gaze to his, her dark, almond-shaped eyes wide with worry. What didn't she want him to know? Something had her spooked and Ronan cursed his own foolishness that he wanted nothing more than to take that fear away. Problem was, he suspected that what she feared most was him.

“I think you're forgetting just exactly who the prisoner is here,” she said, locking that passive expression back into place. “I don't have to answer
any
of your questions.”

“True,” Ronan conceded with a shrug. “But I figured, since we were having an amicable chat, that you'd be open to sharing.”

“I don't have anything to share with you.” Christ, that flat tone she used drove him bat-shit crazy.

He'd never met anyone so fucking
good
at putting up a front of ambiguity. As if nothing he said interested her in the slightest. “Come on, Naya. Let's play nice, yeah?”

Naya took a few more steps in his direction, pulling the crazy-ass dagger from behind her back. She stopped right at his feet and leveled the knife at his face. “See, the thing is, Ronan, I'm not playing.”

Hot. Damn.
Oh, she was playing, all right. She just didn't know it yet. “Take these cuffs off of me,” Ronan said, giving her a taste of that no-nonsense tone she was so fond of.

“No.”

Ronan sighed. This back-and-forth was getting them nowhere. “Look, Naya—”

A knock came at the door and Naya jumped as if she'd never heard the sound before. She looked around, frantic, and Ronan had to admit, he liked seeing her thrown off her game. Whoever was at the door deserved a tip of his hat, for sure. “Get up,” she ground from between clenched teeth. “In the bedroom. Now.”

“Naya, I know you're here. Your car's parked out front!” the male voice on the other side of the door called.

“Boyfriend?” Ronan cocked his brow in question. A wave of jealousy stole over him, congealing into an icy lump in his gut. He'd tear the throat from any male who thought to lay claim on her.

“Shhh!” Naya hissed as she pushed him into the bedroom. Ronan didn't even bother fighting her; this was just the distraction he needed. Once through the door, she gave him a none-too-gentle shove against his shoulder—
strong for such a petite little thing
—and he made a show of tumbling to the bed. “Sit. Don't move. You so much as whisper, I'm coming in here to gut you. Understand?”

Ronan pursed his lips together tight as if they were glued shut. Another round of door-rattling pounds came and Naya shut the bedroom door behind her. “Hang on, Santi!” she called in an airy voice. “I'm just getting out of the shower!”

 

CHAPTER

6

Santi looked her over, his mouth screwed up into a pucker. “I thought you were just getting out of the shower?”

Naya looked around for the first available hard surface to bang her head against. “I meant I was just about to get in the shower.” She leveled her gaze, daring him to doubt her. “What's up?”

No one but Santi and Luz knew about Naya's house. And right now she wished neither of them did. The male's senses were keen. Hiding Ronan in her bedroom wouldn't do shit to keep his presence a secret. She needed to get him out of there. Like yesterday.

Santi narrowed his eyes as he regarded her. His nostrils flared. He'd be able to smell the anxiety wafting from her if she didn't calm the hell down. “Paul wants you tracking again tonight.”

Another hunt?
What in the hell was going on? It seemed that rogue magic users were running rampant lately. Tonight would mark ten straight nights of hunts. In a town that boasted fewer than ten thousand residents, Naya considered herself busy if she made one or two repossessions every six months. El Sendero drew the occasional magic usurper to their area, but the recent number of incidents to hit the area was unusual.

“Not a problem,” she replied with a shrug. In fact, it was a huge problem. What was she supposed to do with Ronan while she was out working?

Santi walked deeper into the living room. Too close to her bedroom for Naya's peace of mind. His dark gaze flicked to the closed door and back to her. “Are you okay?”

Naya drew on her power and used it to project a façade of calm. “Of course I'm okay. Why wouldn't I be?”

Santi canted his head. “I
know,
Naya. There's no use trying to play it cool.”

Shit! Shit, shit, shit.
“It's not what you think. I was trying to—”

“For the record, I don't agree with Paul, or the council. Why the rush to pair you off? A mating with Joaquin is ill-timed. We need to neutralize these threats that keep cropping up first.”

A sigh of relief built in Naya's chest, but she refused to let it out. Adrenaline flooded her system, a change in her scent and body chemistry that Santi was sure to pick up on. But perhaps her personal drama would be the diversion she needed to keep Santi from finding out about her new houseguest.

“I plan on dealing with it. When things settle down.” Surely Paul wouldn't press the issue with mapinguari running amok. “I'll talk to Joaquin and we can go to the council together. Luz isn't ready to take over. They'll listen to reason.”

She needed to quit babbling.

“Are you sure that's all?” Yep. Her stupid mouth and nerves had thrown up one too many red flags. “You're pretty nervous, Naya.”

“You know I have zero interest in being
anyone's
mate.” It was the truth. The thought of being tied down made her break out into a cold sweat. “I want the opportunity to live a life outside of the tribe's parameters. And this mandate isn't exactly going to help it happen.”

Santi was her friend. She could trust him. And yet she couldn't push the truth past her lips. Couldn't tell him about Ronan. He was a mystery that she needed to keep to herself for now. If Santi thought that the council's mandate to mate her to Joaquin was crazy, she could only imagine what he'd say when he found out she had a vampire in her bedroom who'd already claimed the honor.

It seemed that the town—hell, her entire life—was going to hell in a handbasket. And she had a feeling that the male currently cuffed in her bedroom had something to do with it.

*   *   *

Ronan forced every ounce of strength in his reserves through his arms. He tugged so hard on his cuffs that the links snapped with little resistance. A feral growl built in his chest. She might have wanted to keep his presence a secret, but he was ready to take the door right off the fucking hinges. He'd like to see someone try to mate her with another male. Ronan would cut a bloody swath before he'd let that happen.