Dark Predator

Zacarias groaned when he saw that Ruslan had fallen over his extracted heart. The vampire caught up his heart and took to the air, black blood dropping and sizzling along the ground. He licked at his fingers in the air, trying to extract every bit of Carpathian blood from his arm and hand before streaking away.

The moment Ruslan had been attacked, he’d pulled his energy from the army of the dead, so that the leaves and branches tumbled back to the forest floor. Monkeys scrambled back into the trees. Zacarias let himself fall, looking up at the rain. Once more it was a gentle drizzle, hitting him in the face. It took great effort to call down the white-hot energy to rid himself of the vampire venom. As soon as it was off of him, he dropped his arms wearily to his sides.

I’m coming to you. Marguarita made it a statement, not a question.

He found himself smiling. His beautiful lunatic. She had every right to despise him, every reason to fear him, yet if he had ordered her to stay away, she would have defied him and come to him anyway. There was no stopping such a quiet force and he was too far gone to try. She never seemed to bother to argue. She just did what she believed was right. His blood was leaking out all over the ground and healing himself was going to be a difficult task.

Do not forget your clothes. Cesaro will be riding this way any moment. I would have to kill him and I am not certain I am up to the task.

She tried to laugh, he’d have to give her that. Her amusement came through her tears. She was crying for him and he knew she would be doing that a lot in the years to come. I should have converted you with love, Marguarita. With care. I should have held you when you were so afraid. I am so far in the dark, perhaps there is no way to bring me back.

I don’t want to bring you back. I just want to save you. There’s a difference. You’ll have to do the clothes yourself. I can’t manage. There was impatience in her voice. And she was much closer than she had been.

Zacarias lifted his head. Her beloved mare raced toward him with Marguarita astride her back, and thanks to the good Dios the horse had a smooth gait. She was entirely naked. He shook his head. She was slowly filling him back up with her light, pushing the darkness away. He could see his blood was red, pooling on the ground around him.

She was off the horse and running toward him as he waved his hand to clothe her. She nearly tripped over her skirt as she raced to him. Using both hands, she shoved a soft cloth she carried against his belly. Lie back. Just relax for a moment. And don’t let me too far into your mind. I don’t want you to feel this.

He allowed himself to sink back down and just watched her face—that beloved face with so much concern stamped into it. So much love—love he didn’t deserve. “What did you mean when you said you didn’t want to bring me back from the darkness, that you just wanted to save me? It is the same thing.”

She shook her head, digging into the soil to find the richest, untainted earth she could find. She used her own saliva to make a paste. Actually, it isn’t the same thing. The darkness in you that you despise so much is a precious gift and one you have come to rely on. It allows you to hunt the way you do. It keeps you alive when others would die.

She winced visibly as she packed his wounds tight with the muddy paste she’d made. He touched her lips with gentle fingers. “You think it is a gift not to feel? To be so close to darkness that every moment I exist is a fight?”

Yes. It is that darkness that allows you to instinctively know where your prey is going next, to be one step ahead of them. To endure these kinds of mortal wounds that would kill anyone else. You are already healing yourself, Zacarias. And you are already thinking of where this vampire will be hiding until tomorrow night. It is near dawn and you know he is seeking a resting place. That’s what those shadows do for you. They allow you to live and do what you do like no one else can do it. So, no, I don’t want to take that from you.

“But you fear I will not come back to you.”

She extended her wrist to him. Hunger beat at her, but it was far more important to give him whatever she could to sustain him and help him heal as fast as possible. You are so good at pushing aside your memories that a small part of me thinks you will one day forget to remember me after the battle.

He took her wrist and very gently made the cut, allowing her life-giving blood to flow into him. It was the blood of an ancient Carpathian now. Powerful and strong because his blood flowed in her veins. He felt his body reach for it, every organ, all muscle and tissue, each cell.

I will always return to you—always, but I can only be who I am, Marguarita. I want to be gentle for you. I want to give you all the things you deserve. I will always expect you to follow my lead . . .

Her eyebrow shot up. With her free hand she smoothed back his hair. Do you think I am unaware of this about you? I want who you are, Zacarias, but I expect you to follow the vows you swore to me. I want to be cherished. I want you to have in mind my happiness when you make your decisions. And you have to know I will always be me. I will make up my own mind when I feel you are wrong.

He glanced up at her face, a smile in his eyes. I cannot conceive of being wrong. Well—there was that one time . . .

Her laughter spilled into his mind. One? I’m going to let that go because after this battle you might just be a little out of your mind.

He swiped his tongue across the cut on her wrist. “Cesaro comes. He will give you blood and you will have to take it, Marguarita. I need to go.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Go? I don’t understand. Go where? You have to go to ground and heal is what you have to do and I can be with you.

“I must hunt Ruslan.”

She shook her head adamantly. No. You can’t do that, not tonight. It’s almost dawn and you could be caught out in the sun.

“You saw my memories of Dominic and his woman sharing their blood with me.”

Yes, but I also saw him warn you that you have to be cautious, to test your limits. You haven’t done that and you said yourself, the stronger the darkness, the less a Carpathian can take the sun. Don’t do this, Zacarias. For me. Don’t do this.

He reached out and very gently caressed her long sweep of hair. “This particular vampire is a master unlike any other. I would not get this chance again in another ten thousand years. I am asking you to not ask this of me. Right at this moment, I would give you anything you want—even this, Marguarita. But I need you not to make this request.”

She closed her eyes tightly. For a moment she felt she couldn’t breathe. She had to let him go. He couldn’t be anything but what he was—a hunter. She would be asking him to be something he was not. See that you come back to me in one piece.

Zacarias stood, his clothing in bloody tatters. Lacerations and wounds crisscrossed his body. The bloody cloth fell from his belly, but the wound was closed. He flexed his muscles. “You will take Cesaro’s blood from his wrist. He will guard you while I am gone.”

Framing her face with his hands, Zacarias leaned down to kiss her upturned mouth. She clung for a moment, uncaring that Cesaro was watching them. Reluctantly, Zacarias put her aside and took to the air. The moment he was away from her, he dismissed her from his mind, pushing her out, trusting her to stay out. There could only be one chance at this. Ruslan Malinov was too dangerous of an adversary to allow him to escape.

Zacarias caught the scent of the vampire’s foul stench and he followed, using the droplets as a guide. He had spent centuries patrolling up and down the Amazon crossing borders and going from country to country. He knew every cave, every place a vampire might choose as a resting place. He knew where his enemy would most likely go. More than that, Marguarita was correct in saying the darkness in him allowed him to think like the undead.

Ruslan would want to get as far from Zacarias as possible, but he would want to be able to feed as easily as possible. There were very few towns and ranches in the area near caves. Zacarias knew every one of them. He was convinced Ruslan would choose the most inaccessible, a mere crack in the rock allowing a shapeshifter to flatten his body enough to slide inside that narrow, steep tunnel leading down to the very bowels of the earth. Ruslan would guard it well as only a master vampire could do, so either Zacarias arrived ahead of him—before dawn and secreted himself inside to wait—or it could take hours to unravel the safeguards and he could get caught in the