Dark Predator

He closed his eyes, understanding now what his father had endured through the centuries, trying to find a balance of keeping his lifemate close to him, yet safe from danger. In the end, he had killed her, putting her life in jeopardy by taking her with him on a hunt for a master. He’d known better. Zacarias had pleaded with his father, fought with him. He had offered to go, but leave his mother behind. He had blamed his father for her death. He had been responsible. She should have been kept safe. That was their law; their duty to their lifemates. His father had taken her and had been outmaneuvered. His mother had paid the price and, ultimately, his father had, too.

And you, Zacarias.

“Do you understand now?” he whispered, wanting to save her.

Not all the way, but I’m getting there.

“I will face the shadows and the cold before I will ever allow danger to you.” It was a promise. A threat. A declaration that dared her to try to defy his orders.

She didn’t give him sympathy, not exactly, more it was a stronger connection, as if she poured more of herself into him. He felt her warmth invade his heart and he caught her shoulders and gave her a little shake.

“She loved him too much. She should never have gone with him.”

There is no such thing as loving someone too much, Zacarias. Whatever happened, I know it wasn’t because they loved each other too much. I have told you I will obey you, but I cannot stop my heart from loving you. You can’t ask that of me.

He let out his breath, unaware he’d been holding air trapped in his lungs. He caught her face in his hands and took possession of her mouth. There was nothing to say. He was already lost. If this was love, he was too far gone to take a different path. He would put her above himself and his own needs. She would never be placed in jeopardy just so that he could shut out the cold, see in color and feel emotion. He could handle being utterly alone if it meant she was out of harm’s way. He vowed to himself he would always be strong enough to put her safety first.

He kissed her long and hard, making a thorough job of it. He had nothing to say to her, no way to reassure her. He hadn’t expected their connection. He hadn’t expected the emotion to be so intense, and he certainly hadn’t intended to feel something close to love for her and he feared that was exactly what was happening. When he lifted his head, his gaze burned over her. Her eyes were wide and a little glazed, but she had kissed him back without reservation.

“I will do this with you, but if I say we leave, do not question me.”

She nodded her head and took a step through the open door. The horses watched curiously, stamping occasionally, but she’d touched them, spirit to spirit several times and they knew her, were used to that strong connection. They trusted her. Because they felt Zacarias’s spirit mixing with hers, the horses were more curious than alarmed.

We breed the best, the horses with even temperaments as well as brio, that elusive quality that shows arrogance and exuberance in every move. Look at them. The way they move, the steps they take, the tossing of their heads. They have steady eyes and beautiful gaits. They are loyal and hard workers. They will place their body between an enraged steer and a fallen rider. They have great courage, Zacarias.

She drew Zacarias farther into the stables. He had never been so close to a horse, not without it rearing and plunging, throwing its rider and running full speed away from him.

People misjudge them because they are not a really large horse. They stand fourteen to a little over fifteen hands in height, which isn’t terribly tall, but never underestimate them. They have such noble heads.

He was beginning to feel what she meant about the spirit or brio of the Peruvian Paso. Marguarita approached a stall where a beautiful chestnut-colored mare watched them carefully. She didn’t take her eyes from Zacarias, those amazing large, intelligence-filled eyes.

She has a long official name but I just call her Sparkle. Isn’t she gorgeous?

Zacarias couldn’t look away from the mare. He was within touching distance and the horse wasn’t screaming a protest and kicking her stall door, eyes rolling in terror. He found his hand was trembling. He had never understood why he had been so drawn to this species, the horse. He often had watched them running free over the land, manes flying in the wind, their muscles flowing, necks stretched out, and hooves thundering over the earth and it was one of the few things that brought a semblance of peace to him.

He looked down at Marguarita. All those centuries ago, had she been there, a whisper in his soul keeping him from falling into that dark abyss? He didn’t understand how it could be so, but that rapt look of joy on her face when she observed the horses, echoed in his own heart. Horses. Simple creatures, yet complex at the same time. Each had their own personality. Most had a wild spirit he understood and now, with his spirit connecting with the horses in the stable, he realized they weren’t so far from him after all.

“Thank you, sivamet. You have given me another gift beyond measure.”

We are nowhere near finished. There’s so much more. Come with me.

He didn’t want to ruin this perfect moment. He stood just behind Marguarita, his arm wrapped around her waist from behind, his spirit floating with hers through the stable and mingling with the spirit of the horses. The ride was exhilarating, and yes, because he was so tightly woven into Marguarita’s spirit, even sensual. His every sense was alert and alive. He smelled what the horses smelled. Felt what they felt. The wild freedom of just being, and the affection pouring from them for Marguarita—and now for him. He was tightly entwined with her, the two becoming one and the horses accepted his presence.

“You have done more for me than I ever thought possible,” he whispered into her ear, nuzzling her, his teeth tugging on her sensitive earlobe. “You are my miracle.”

Her soft amusement brushed like a caress. I am your lunatic, remember, so I say there is much more. And I want so much more for you. Let me give you this, Zacarias. Trust me. I put myself into your hands, put yourself into mine.

His arm tightened around her. She was already so much to him he couldn’t imagine what would happen if she gave him more. Being alive was extraordinary. Feeling joy was immeasurable. His world had been a dull gray. The colors of the horses gleamed bright, almost like glittering diamonds. The scent of the hay and stamp of hooves were etched into his soul for all time. He would always have this moment Marguarita had given him. If things went wrong, nothing could mar this perfection.

He brushed his mouth across her ear, breathed warmth against that perfect little shell. “Then continue. I’ll follow where you lead.”

He took the time to once again scan the ranch for vampires, that sign of shadows, or even blank spots where the undead tried to cover their tracks, but if Ruslan was close by, or if he’d sent his lesser pawns ahead of him, they weren’t anywhere near the ranch.

Marguarita opened the door to the stall and stepped right in, close to the mare. Zacarias found he was holding his breath again. She looked quite small beside the horse. She was right, the animal wasn’t particularly tall, but she exuded power and held herself nobly. She nuzzled Marguarita with her nose and, if Zacarias hadn’t stepped in, right behind her, the gentle touch might have pushed her back a step. His arms went around her waist from behind to steady her with his taller, stronger frame.

Her hands came up to caress that inquisitive nose. He noticed how, with every stroke of her fingers, she did the same in her mind, brushing her spirit against the horse’s spirit just as lovingly.

Marguarita reached down, took his hand in hers, and brought it to the mare’s arched neck. His body went still as he felt her press his palm against that warm, smooth neck. For the first time ever in his endless existence, he was actually touching a horse. He had steadfastly refused to control the animals down through the centuries. If they refused to give him allegiance, then he would rather not get near them.

His hand trembled. His belly knotted. A thousand butterflies took wing. He had been all over the world, sailed the seas, raced through meadows and fields of flowers and had resided in enormous, beautiful caves, yet he had never done such a simple thing as touch a horse. The enormity of what Marguarita was giving to him shook him. What had he done for her? He’d scared her nearly to death and he’d put her life in jeopardy by tying them together.

Stop, silly. Marguarita rubbed the back of her head against his chest while she slowly stroked his hand over the horse’s neck. You said yourself that I don’t obey very well. Do you think I would do something so life-changing if I wasn’t fully committed? That it wasn’t what I wanted? Stay with me, right here. Be in this moment with me and let everything else go.

He nuzzled her neck and then bit down gently. “Did you just call me silly? I do not think I have ever, in all my