Dark Predator

throw rugs. She tried not to wince when she heard pottery smashing on the floor, or her dishes being thrown as his frustration and anger grew.

Her heart gave a little thud of protest when he stalked back into the room, fury on his face. His eyes locked onto hers as he marched toward her determinedly. Lea gave a small squeal of fear and moved closer to Marguarita as though she might protect her. Marguarita withdrew immediately from Zacarias, not wanting him to witness or feel what was coming. She heard the sharp echo of his protest, but she broke the contact off anyway. He was already upset with her for not disclosing his location, so what did it really matter if she could spare him this?

His face was a twisted mask. “You will tell me what I want to know, you little demon bitch.” Spittle flew from his mouth. His eyes were maniacal.

DS rained blows on Marguarita without mercy, her face, her stomach, every unprotected part of her body until she went to the floor and he kicked her repeatedly. Marguarita was grateful she couldn’t scream. No sound emerged, no matter how much she cried out in pain. She did her best to cover her face and body while the blows continued, curling into the fetal position. The attack continued forever it seemed. She lost track of time, her mind a haze of pain.

“You’re going to kill her,” Esteban yelled, rushing DS.

“Good. The bitch deserves it.” DS yanked his arm away from Esteban and delivered another hard kick to her hip.

“She doesn’t know or she would have told you.”

“She knows. They protect their masters. They’re like dogs, guarding them, with no minds of their own.” He continued to rain down punches and kicks, striking anywhere he could, legs, hips, arms and back, even her head.

Esteban grabbed DS again, pulling him away from her. “She won’t be able to lead us to the resting place and no one else knows. By the time we tear up the floor, the sun will have set.”

DS shoved Esteban away from him with enough force to send him staggering. DS wiped his hand over his face as if clearing his mind. The wild look in his eyes receded. He spit at Marguarita and paced across the floor. There was only the sound of his ragged breathing as he worked to get himself under control. Eventually he dug out a silver vial and dumped white powder on the small table in the corner of the room.

Esteban’s eyes lit up. He started over but DS waved him away. “Watch them.”

“They aren’t going anywhere,” Esteban whined. He licked his lips.

Lea slid down the wall, her movements very careful as she positioned herself beside Marguarita. She leaned toward Marguarita, placed her lips against her ear and whispered as softly as she could, “Are you okay?”

Marguarita couldn’t catch her breath. There were so many places on her body that hurt and her ribs burned, robbing her of all air. Tears swam in her eyes, obscuring her vision, or maybe it was blood. She could taste it in her mouth. Her lip was swollen and painful. She curled a little tighter in response, praying DS would stay away from her.

Lea put her hand on Marguarita’s arm in a gesture of comfort, tears streaming down her face. She looked pleadingly at her brother. His eyes were on the white powder DS was carefully chopping into straight lines on the table. He crept closer, licking his lips repeatedly, his hands shaking in excitement and need. Lea closed her eyes in disgust.

“DS, I need it, come on,” Esteban pleaded, his voice shaking.

DS swung around, swearing. “You act like a bitch in heat, you want it so bad, crawl to me, on your hands and knees. Show your high and mighty sister what a bitch dog you are.”

“Don’t, Esteban,” Lea pleaded in a whisper. “Look what he’s doing to you.”

Esteban didn’t turn around. He had eyes for only the white powder. Deliberately, DS took his silver straw and sniffed an entire line up his nose. He threw his head back and howled, as if he was a wolf, howling at the moon. “Damn, that’s good shit.”

Esteban stumbled forward, and immediately DS’s expression changed from rapture to pure contempt. He slapped Esteban and shoved him. “Get away from me, you bitch dog. You want it, you gotta earn it. Crawl across the room on your knees in front of your fuckin’ sister.”

A sob escaped Lea as Esteban slowly sank to his hands and knees and crawled in front of DS who watched with triumphant, gleaming eyes, his twisted face infused with glee. Laughing, he spat at Esteban, the spit hitting his cheek and slowly dribbling down to his chin.

DS kicked at him when Esteban tried to wipe his face clean. “Leave it. It may remind you who’s in charge. Don’t interfere again.” He turned his back and sniffed another line of the powder.

Esteban crouched on the floor at his feet, looking at him with desperation. He made a single sound of pleading in the back of his throat and tried to slide up to DS.

“Get back. You haven’t begged properly yet. Sit up and beg. Come on, little doggie. Sit up and wag your tail like a good little pet.”

Marguarita shifted, the subtlest of movements. When she’d fallen, she made certain to fall near the end table where a knife was kept taped beneath the small drawer. She let her hand creep very slowly up the wood, not wanting to draw DS’s attention. He was focused on tormenting Esteban and seemed, for the moment, to have forgotten her.

It hurt to move. Everything hurt, just the act of lifting her arm was painful, as if there were minor cracks in her bone. She was certain the damage was all severe bruising, but that small, subtle movement still sent white lightning streaking through her body.

Lea’s eyelashes fluttered. She frowned at Marguarita and slowly shook her head, fearing repercussions, but, although she clearly didn’t understand what Marguarita’s hand was doing sliding so stealthily up the leg of the end table, she valiantly shifted her body just enough to block DS’s view should he look. Her eyes went wide when Marguarita’s fist came away from under the table with the knife. The blade was four inches long and honed to a razor-sharp edge, tucked inside a smooth leather sheath. Marguarita shoved the knife as deep into the pocket of her skirt as she possibly could.

Her eyes met Lea’s. She supposed she looked as bad as her friend. She could tell her eye was swelling, and her mouth hurt. She touched her tongue to her split lip and winced. She had deliberately provoked DS. He would be suspicious if she suddenly gave up Zacarias without a fight. She needed to provide him with an authentic reason to be afraid. She figured if Lea could survive his beating, so could she. He’d been a little more enthusiastic than she’d counted on.

She felt the sudden stirring in her mind, a pouring of ice into her body. She shivered, but hastily reached out to meet Zacarias halfway, trying to take the burden of energy from him.

What are you doing? His voice was very calm—too calm. She felt the edge even though she couldn’t hear it.

Dios. She had not expected him to connect with her so soon. She couldn’t hide the pain of her bruises from him. He had to be feeling every blow to her body. Seeing inside him and feeling his emotions, she knew it was far worse for him to lie helpless beneath the ground while she was in danger. It was the worst possible situation for a dominant, protective male such as Zacarias. He was trapped. Their enemies had chosen the perfect time to strike, when his body was leaden and he was unable to do anything but stay connected to Marguarita as DS and Esteban did what they wanted to her.

I think the longer I can stall them, the closer we’ll get to the sun setting and that will allow you much more strength. It was a logical plan, the best she had. Stall and stall again. Use everything she could think of. Turn them against one another. Whatever it took.

I have stated that I forbid this. I will not have you put yourself in harm’s way. Lead them to me immediately.

Marguarita sighed. You know I can’t do that, she said as gently as possible.

Zacarias didn’t respond. She felt his smoldering rage, buried deep, threatening to erupt, but he didn’t bother to argue. Like her, he was wound tight through her mind, and he could read her determination.

He didn’t have to understand. Marguarita sighed again and tried not to let his disapproval hurt her. This was her decision to make—not his—her life to risk. There was no doubt in her mind that he would risk his life for hers without even considering any other alternative.

It is different. It is my right and duty to protect you.

She could almost see him snapping his teeth like a hungry wolf, impatient with what he considered her