Dark Predator

9

Marguarita rolled over and stared at her window. The heavy drapes were drawn, but a sliver of light told her it was the middle of the day. A rain of pebbles hit the glass and she sighed and pushed herself up. Her body felt leaden, not wanting to cooperate, but resolutely she slipped out of bed and crawled across the floor to the window pushing the drapes aside just as Julio sent another light spray of small rocks rapping against the glass.

Trying not to laugh, Marguarita shoved the window up. Sunlight spilled into her room, burning her eyes. She hastily covered them, shocked at how she was already so used to being up all night. She dragged a pen and notepad from the bedside table.

Are you crazy? He might kill you if he finds you here again.

“He’s sleeping. I made certain to wake you well before sundown. I had to make certain you were all right.”

She shaded her eyes and looked him over carefully. There was a thick bloody wrap around his forearm and he looked upset.

What happened to you?

“The dog went crazy about an hour ago. My dog. He suddenly started snarling and growling. He hadn’t made a sound since . . .”

She sketched a question mark between them.

“De La Cruz came to our house last night. Max went berserk. All the animals do when he’s around, you know that. He was barking and snarling at the window and then abruptly he went silent. Not a peep until a little while ago and then it was like he went crazy. He started snapping at my horse’s heels and one kicked at him. I dismounted to calm him down and he attacked me.”

Marguarita climbed onto the windowsill, sitting with her legs dangling, and indicated Julio come closer so she could inspect the lacerations.

Julio took off his shirt to show Marguarita the scratches across his chest. The dog had gone for his throat and he had held him off with sheer strength. Her heart sank. Julio had thrust his forearm into the dog’s mouth, sacrificing his arm to prevent the attack on his throat.

You had to shoot him? She knew the answer before he spoke. Julio had loved his dog.

“Ricco shot him. He didn’t have a choice, Marguarita. I think De La Cruz did something to my dog.”

She shook her head rejecting the idea, frantically writing on the notepad.

He wouldn’t do that, Julio. Everything on the ranch is under his protection, including the animals.

“The animals are terrified of him and you know it. The longer he stays here, the worse it’s going to get. Even the horses are upset, Marguarita. They’re hard to control when we’re out patrolling. I think he’s staying here because of you. He’s got to go.”

She glared at him.

This is his home, Julio. That’s a mean thing to say.

Julio shook his head, crumpling her note. “This is our home. They’re never here, especially him. He’s the worst of them. He can’t just come here and tell us all that you belong to him. We work for him, but you aren’t his slave. He’s got to go, and you have to get out of there. Now. Before he does something to make it impossible for you to get away from him.”

He needs me, Julio.

Julio scowled at her. “He’s not one of your broken animals to rescue, Marguarita. He’s dangerous to you. You can’t treat him like a wild animal.”

That’s exactly what he is. He’s alone, and he needs me. I’m not going to abandon him the way everyone else in his life has done. He pushes everyone away and they go. I’m staying.

“What if he wants more from you than you’re willing to give?” Julio demanded. “Because he thinks you’re his woman. Do you have any idea the demands he could make on you? You’re playing with fire, Marguarita. If he’s a wild animal, then he’s the most dangerous one you’ve ever encountered and you aren’t going to tame him. Get out while you can. I’ll help you. We all will. He doesn’t own you. He doesn’t own any of us. We have choices here, and you do as well.”

My choice is to see him through this. You have no idea of his life, Julio. He came here to end his life with honor and I ruined that for him. He’s lost right now and I need to help him. I want to help him. I know that I can.

Julio cursed under his breath. “You’ve always been like this, Marguarita, so stubborn no one could make you see reason.” He started to put his shirt back on, but stopped when she shook her head.

Marguarita slipped back into her room and rummaged around until she found the first-aid kit she’d made up years earlier for the workers. Over time she’d become somewhat of a nurse with all the lacerations and accidents that occurred on the ranch. She smeared antibiotic cream over the deep scratches and handed him some tablets.

Julio obediently took them and dragged his shirt back over his head, smoothing it over his chest. “I’m telling you, hon, De La Cruz is no ordinary man. You have to let this one go.”

She unwound the bloody rag and gasped when she saw the wound on his arm. She mimicked sewing, frowning at him. Julio shrugged and shook his head.

“It’ll heal. Just do whatever you do so it doesn’t get infected.”

Marguarita had to blink several times. The sun seemed unusually bright and her eyes kept watering. She shook her head and indicated she needed to at least put butterfly strips across the wound to try to close it.

“Get on with it, then. I’ve got to get back to work. You have to get to the stables tonight and settle the animals down. Someone’s really going to get hurt if you don’t, Marguarita.”

She nodded as she carefully applied the antibiotic cream and then began to meticulously close the wound.

“He can’t keep you,” Julio reiterated. “You don’t owe him your life, honey. Seriously, think about leaving this place.”

He would find me. I want to stay anyway, Julio. I know I can help him.

She had almost written save him. Zacarias needed saving from himself. Perhaps it couldn’t be done. She wasn’t even certain he wanted saving, but someone had to care about the man. He didn’t seem to care much about himself. He was arrogant and had complete confidence in himself, but he also believed he was tainted with evil.

I’m sorry about your dog, Julio, but whatever happened, Zacarias had nothing to do with it. You be careful today. I’ll come out this evening.

She hoped Zacarias would be cooperative. He knew the ranch work had to be done. If it took her going to the stables to calm the animals, she was certain Zacarias would agree to it. She waved to Julio and resolutely closed the window and pulled the drapes. She was tired, but a few hours to herself sounded good, so she decided to stay up.

In the bathtub, she laid with her eyes closed and allowed herself to think about Zacarias. He was such a mystery—a man who had no real idea of who he was. Her heart went out to him, a man so utterly alone. No one should be so alone. And he had no real idea of his own feelings. He’d buried his memories so deep, never forgiving himself, refusing to acknowledge he even remembered that terrible tragedy in his life.

Marguarita sighed as she sank down into the hot, scented water, soaking the long, thick rope of hair. She felt exhausted, and it was difficult to keep her mind away from Zacarias. In the short time she’d been around him, she’d mostly been afraid, so it didn’t make sense to her that she was so determined to help him. She hated that he was so alone. No one should be alone, not like he was, not cut off from anything soft and gentle. He had so little humanity left that he no longer believed he could overcome the predator in him.

She saw inside of him, but every time she tried to show him he was different inside, he rejected her. It was almost as if he was afraid of that softer side of himself. It made him vulnerable and Zacarias De La Cruz had never really been that way—or if he had—he certainly didn’t remember it. Nor did he want to remember it.

Zacarias had lived so long as a dangerous hunter, always alone and always apart, that he really had no way to fit into modern society, with humans or even with his own people. He had supreme confidence in himself as a hunter—a killer—but not as a man. And he was wrong. As arrogant and as dangerous as he was—there was someone gentle and loving deep inside him. His tremendous loyalty and sense of duty were admirable. He didn’t see it that way. Everything was so black and white to him.

She dried herself off slowly, taking her time, enjoying the feeling that she had her home to herself and she could feel as if it belonged to her. She’d been mistress of the hacienda a long time and now, with Zacarias home, dictating to her what she could or couldn’t do, where she could go and what she should wear, she had forgotten how peaceful she found the house. It was her sole domain. She kept it clean, decorated it the way she wanted and was in total charge of her own life. She had suitors courting her, which was a nice boost to her ego, but she knew she wouldn’t want any of them for a husband.

Zacarias. Thinking of him made her feel alive. She loved riding horses, the freedom of flying over the ground, one with her horses. Zacarias gave her that same thrill only more so. He wasn’t peaceful by any means, but being in his company was exhilarating. She sat at her vanity and brushed her long hair into a semblance of submission while she thought about him.

He was handsome in a rough, brutal sort of way. His body was fit, that of a warrior. Physically there was no doubt she was attracted to him, but that wasn’t the draw. She imagined most women would be unable to resist his looks. He was mesmerizing and had an animal attraction as well. But still . . . There was so much more to him, right there under the surface, and quite frankly, he intrigued her.

She pulled on her usual house clothes, a blouse and long skirt, frowning a little that she was conforming to what Zacarias liked. It would have been childish to wear jeans just because he’d stated she should wear feminine clothes. She liked her skirts. She wasn’t going to change for him—one way or the other. No one had dictated to her, not even her father, and having Zacarias speak in such commanding tones all the time was a little humorous.

Someone walked up onto the porch and knocked on the front door. It was a timid knock, not at all like Julio or one of the other boys would make. Her stomach jumped and she glanced toward the master bedroom. She took a loaded gun from the trunk in the hallway and pushed it into her skirt pocket. They didn’t get many visitors, and with Zacarias vulnerable during the day, she was determined to protect him.

She peered out and was a little shocked to see Lea Eldridge, waiting for her alone on the porch. Lea had never once come to the ranch without her brother. She was a tall, blond woman, very chic. Her hair was never out of place, her makeup perfect and her clothes obviously designer. Where Esteban talked down to the workers, Lea always seemed open and friendly. She was a beautiful woman, and Marguarita liked her more than she did the women she’d grown up with. Lea seemed a genuine, giving person. She always had time to speak to the older workers and children, not just the handsome single men. Marguarita liked that about her.

She opened the door and frowned when she saw Lea’s face. There was a faint bruise on her cheekbone and obvious signs of tears. Lea’s skin was flawless, as porcelain as peaches and cream, and even with her careful application of makeup, it was impossible to hide the purple. She stepped back to allow Lea entrance.

Lea glanced around behind her, a covert, stealthy perusal of the surrounding area and roads before she ducked inside and hastily closed the door. “My brother doesn’t know I’m here. No one does.”

I’ll make tea. I’m glad you came to visit me.

Marguarita handed her the note and led the way into the kitchen, gesturing for Lea to sit at the table while she prepared tea. It was obvious Lea was very upset. It was times like this that Marguarita was especially frustrated that she couldn’t speak. Writing things down took forever. While the kettle was heating, she sank down into the chair opposite Lea, touched her hand and slid a paper across to her.

What happened? You’re safe here, Lea.

Lea blinked back tears and shook her head. “You don’t understand. My brother’s friend, Dan, we call him DS, has found us here. He’s . . . awful. Everywhere we go, he finds us, and Esteban does whatever he says. I thought if we came here, he’d never find us, but he’s here and he’s going to do something terrible. He always does.”

Who hit you?

Lea ducked her head, touching her cheek with her fingertips. “The truth is, Esteban does whatever DS tells him to do. I thought we’d moved to this place to get away from him, but he was the one who instructed Esteban to come here and get friendly with the people on this ranch.” She raised sorrowful eyes to Marguarita. “I swear I didn’t know. I really thought we had a chance here to get away from him. He’s the devil, Marguarita. Esteban does terrible things around him. And if he’s planning something to do with this ranch, it isn’t going to be legal or good,” she confessed. “I’m so sorry.”

Marguarita tapped the note again and sketched a question mark in the air between them.

Lea rubbed her temples. “DS hit me because I refused to do what he wanted.” A sob welled up. “Esteban just stood there while DS shoved me around.”

What does DS want from you and Esteban?

“He wants to meet a member of the De La Cruz family. He’s obsessed with the idea. He wants me to seduce one of them. He says if I don’t, that he’ll kill Esteban. I tried to talk to Esteban but he just laughed and said I’d better get it done then.” Lea wiped at the tears and shook her head. “I don’t have anywhere to go and no one to talk to. I can’t trust anyone. And I didn’t want to betray our friendship, but I don’t know what to do.”

The teakettle was steaming, so Marguarita rose to pour the boiling water into the teapot. She hastily scribbled a note as she did so and shoved it under Lea’s nose.

The De La Cruz family rarely visits this ranch. Why would this man think you could possibly seduce one of them when they never stay longer than a day or so and are gone for years? That makes no sense. What does he think seducing one of them would gain him?

Lea shoved both hands through her hair and shrugged her shoulders. “Wealth, maybe. Thrills. I don’t know. DS runs drugs and weapons though. Esteban got caught up in all of that. He likes the idea of being on the inside of some underground gangster-type organization. DS talks about some secret society he belongs to—that all the members are in the know, and that kind of thing appeals to Esteban.”

Your parents?

“They’re both dead. We have a trust fund our uncle controls. Esteban is never satisfied. I keep thinking he’ll mellow out, but he keeps looking for that next thrill. Since he met DS, our lives have been insane. DS hangs out with some very scary people.”

Why do they believe a De La Cruz will come here?

“You.” Lea accepted the teacup and small plate of biscuits. “Your accident. Something that bad was bound to bring one of the owners to the ranch to check on things. Esteban probably sent for DS.” She took a sip of tea and regarded Marguarita over the rim of the steaming teacup. “I thought I would have a chance at a real life here. I like it here. And there’s . . . Julio.” She watched Marguarita’s face carefully. “Are you two involved? He’s very protective of you.”

We were raised as brother and sister.

“He doesn’t like us, does he?” Lea asked. “He doesn’t even look at me.”

She sounded so sad, it wrenched at Marguarita’s heart. Julio was right about her, she fell for every wounded thing, man or animal. She sighed and shrugged a little as she wrote.

Julio said it was strange that you and Esteban came here. You have money and you’re used to the city life. Neither of you seem to fit in here. But he looks at you, Lea. You’re beautiful. How could he not?

“I want to stay. Even after Esteban moves on, I want to stay here. I like our home and I’m beginning to love the horses. I know I could make a life here. And Esteban will move on. He gets bored easily. I’ve done my best to try to save him from himself, but I know I can’t. He won’t listen to me anymore. If one of the De La Cruz brothers doesn’t show up here soon, DS will want to go to another of the ranches where he might have a better chance of meeting one of them and Esteban will do whatever he says.”

The brothers keep to themselves. Even when they do show up at one of the ranches, they rarely talk to anyone but Cesaro. They stay a night or two and are gone again.

“Have you met them?”

A couple of them, once or twice, but I don’t really know them. Lea, whatever this man, DS, wants with the De La Cruz family, he won’t find it here. Does he want to do some sort of business with them?

Lea nibbled at a tea biscuit, a small frown on her face. “I don’t honestly know. Esteban won’t talk to me about it. He just tells me to do whatever DS says.”

Marguarita allowed the tea to slide down her throat. It was hot and sweet and her stomach rebelled a little, but settled after a moment or two. She’d found it difficult to eat food lately. Nothing tasted good, and often, she felt as if she might get sick when she put solid food in her stomach. The scent of meat particularly offended her. She feared it had something to do with the vampire attack on her and her torn throat. Of course Lea thought a large jungle cat had attacked her as most people did. She touched her throat and immediately felt the throb of the mark Zacarias had put on her. Without thinking, her fingertips brushed a caress over the spot.

“Does it hurt?” Lea asked. “Your throat?”

Marguarita shook her head. It didn’t hurt anymore, but it was still difficult to accept that she couldn’t speak. Lea had stayed her friend. Esteban had always acted as if he was courting her—until the accident. He continued to come around, but he was careful not to flirt too much with her anymore. She realized he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Without a voice, she wasn’t up to his standards. Perhaps that was judging him harshly, but she had always known he wasn’t seriously courting her.

Lea impulsively leaned across the table and put her hand over Marguarita’s. “We’re such a pair. Me with nowhere to go and you with a torn throat.”

Marguarita smiled at her. She raised her teacup and took another sip.

“I don’t suppose Julio would have tea with us?” Lea ventured, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe you could find a secret love potion and slip it to him.”

Marguarita smiled and shook her head.

Ask him to show you the horses. Get him talking about them. He loves the horses. I’ve never seen you ride. Do you know how?

“I hired this man to teach me, but he never shows up. I love to watch you ride, and when I’m on a horse I feel so free. I love the wind in my face and the way the horse moves, flowing across the ground. I know I could live here, even without my brother. I don’t spend much out of my trust fund, Esteban blows through his portion every month, but I could buy property here and be happy.”

There’s no city life here, Lea. It can be lonely for a woman.

Lea sighed and stroked her finger down her bruised cheek. “It can be lonely in the middle of a crowd, Marguarita. I just don’t feel I fit anywhere. Not until I came here. I know I seem sort of prissy to you, but I’m a hard worker. I can learn. I just want to find peace.”

Why do you travel with Esteban when you know he’s involved in illegal activity?

“He’s all I have. We have the family business and I could go back and work there, but my uncle is the only one alive that’s family other than Esteban. I didn’t even know him before my parents were killed in a small plane crash. He’s older and very rigid. Esteban can’t stand the sight of him and unfortunately, my uncle lets him know at every opportunity that he’s a spoiled rich kid. That just seems to egg Esteban on. I was hoping if I was with him, he’d stop doing such dangerous things.”

Is he hooked on drugs?

Lea bit at her lower lip. “He uses cocaine. At first it was recreational, and I tried not to get upset about it. Really everyone we knew used it. But Esteban can’t go a day without it now. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he says I don’t know how to have fun. He thinks I’m a workaholic. I used to work for my parents. Esteban was rather spoiled by my father and dad encouraged him to be a playboy.”

He must have taken your parents’ death very hard.

Lea nodded. “I think that’s what made him so vulnerable to DS. He started doing more drugs and partying hard. He jumps out of airplanes, skis very hazardous mountains, anything that’s dangerous, he does it. No matter what I say to him, I can’t stop him.” She rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. “I can’t keep following him around the world trying to keep him alive. He won’t listen to me.”

I’m sorry, Lea. I wish there was something I could do to help.

Lea sent her a small smile. “I appreciate your listening. It’s been a long time since I felt like I had a real friend I could confide in. I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to do to get me and Esteban out of this mess, but you’ve made me feel better.”

Is it safe for you to go home?

Marguarita wanted to invite her to stay, but with Zacarias in residence and knowing Esteban and DS were looking to meet a De La Cruz, she felt she had to protect Zacarias. But still, she felt afraid for Lea.

Lea shrugged. “Esteban loves me. He doesn’t believe DS would really hurt either one of us, but if it came down to it, I believe he would protect me. And I plan on avoiding DS. I just wanted you to know not to trust them when they come here. And they’ll come. I just don’t know what they’re up to. Once I’m back home I can try to get Esteban to tell me.”

Marguarita shook her head quickly.

There’s no need, really, Lea. Even if they come here, what are they going to see? The boys at work. Me. You don’t see a De La Cruz anywhere around, do you? They won’t, either. They’ll look around and then go home.

Lea nodded. “I guess I shouldn’t worry. And the De La Cruz family is very powerful. They probably have people like DS targeting them all the time.”

The warning siren went off alerting Marguarita that something had happened somewhere on the ranch. Marguarita leaped to her feet, racing toward the front door. She could hear the pounding of hooves as horsemen approached the house at a wild gallop. Marguarita flung the door open. Julio stood with his fist upraised, face white beneath his tan, his clothes covered in blood.

“We need the helicopter pilot, Marguarita. Ricco’s been gored. His horse threw him and the cattle stampeded. It’s bad. Really bad.”

She raced back into the bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit while Julio made the call for the pilot.

Julio was swearing when she reached his side. She sketched a question mark.

“Charlie’s drinking again. He’s gone just when we need him most.” Julio shoved his hand through his hair. “He won’t make it if we don’t get him to a hospital.”

“I can fly a helicopter,” Lea said. “I have a license. I can fly small planes as well. My father owned a charter service, and we all learned to fly.”

Julio swung around to scowl at the woman as if she’d grown two heads. “You better know what you’re talking about. Ricco’s going to die if we don’t get him medical attention.”

Color crept up Lea’s neck into her face. “I can fly him to the hospital. I’ve logged hundreds of hours in a helicopter and more in small planes. I can fly just about anything. It’s what my family did.”

“Then you’re the pilot,” Julio said. “Let’s go. Come on, Marguarita, you’re going to have to try to keep him alive until we make it to help.”

They ran toward the big hangar housing the aircraft. One thing she had always been grateful to the De La Cruz family for was the first-class equipment they always supplied. The ranch was out so far that they used aircraft for medical aid as well as for checking the cattle and horses in the hills and fields.

“Is your helicopter kept in good condition?” Lea asked, running to keep up with Julio’s longer strides.

“Yes. It’s always serviced after every run. But you’d better double-check. I have no idea how long Charlie’s been drinking this time,” Julio replied grimly.

Several men rushed toward the hangar, carrying Ricco on a stretcher. Marguarita raced to intercept them, trying to inspect the wound as they took him to the helicopter. The steer had caught Ricco in the abdomen and it looked bad. Very bad. She didn’t think, even with a surgeon standing by, that he had much of a chance. She glanced at the sky and looked over the stretcher at Julio, a question in her eyes.

Julio looked as grim as she felt. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen what a maddened steer could do before. The sun was still a ball in the sky, but it was dropping slowly. The sky was clear with few clouds. They had a good hour before sunset. Ricco didn’t have that kind of time. She’d seen what the sun had done to Zacarias. She shook her head. Julio glared at her as the men carefully loaded Ricco into the helicopter. Marguarita climbed in beside him and tore open his shirt.

She gasped and put pressure on the wound. There was no way he could possibly make it, no matter how fast they got the helicopter into the air.

Zacarias. She didn’t want to force him to tell her he couldn’t help, but the wound was ghastly and no way would Ricco make it alive to the hospital. I need you. She had no idea if he would answer her call or even care, but she had to try.

The stirring in her mind was instantaneous, as if all along he had been aware of her awake and out of the house. Are you hurt? His voice was filled with concern for her and strangely it warmed her.

Not me. Ricco, one of the workers. We’re going to take him to the hospital, but he won’t make it if you can’t help us.

You wish me to do this for you?

Her heart leaped, stuttered and then began to pound. His voice was so matter-of-fact and in truth, she wasn’t entirely certain what she was asking of him—but he’d managed to save her and she never should have lived.

What is the risk to you? She had to know. She bit at her lower lip, suddenly terrified of what she was asking of him. Nothing can happen to you.

There was a moment that she felt him in her mind, touching every part of her, a brushing caress completely at odds with his lethal presence.

Show me the wound. Look directly at it.

Marguarita steeled herself. The horn had penetrated deep and she was certain the tear had all but killed Ricco. It was fortunate he was unconscious because she had nothing to stop the pain. She forced herself to stare at Ricco’s torn stomach, trying to send her own impressions to Zacarias.

Put your hands on the wound and apply pressure. Go deep, Marguarita.

She’d dealt with lacerations, but never anything like this. She was no nurse, but she was all Ricco had. She closed her eyes and did as Zacarias instructed. Her hands sank into blood and gore with a horrible sound.

Soft laughter teased her mind. I have to see, kislány kuηenak minan—my little lunatic. Keep your eyes open.

Swallowing hard she did so. She felt heat move through her body. Her hands tingled and grew hot. Her fingers moved of their own accord and somehow, for one moment, she was no longer inside her own body, but tied to Zacarias and moving through Ricco’s body. It was an odd wrenching sensation leaving her physical body behind and streaming through another human. Her stomach rebelled, but she fought hard to stay in control, breathing deep.

Just as abruptly she was back, a little dizzy and feeling weak. She could tell Zacarias was even weaker than she was.

That should hold him until he gets to a surgeon, but he’s lost too much blood, Marguarita. I will have to give him mine or all of this is for naught.

Do you want us to bring him back into the house? Can you make it up this time of day?

Do not take the chance of moving him again. I will come to you.

But you can’t. He couldn’t. The sun would burn him. What had she done? Please don’t sacrifice your life.

Again she felt that brushing caress go through her mind, as if he’d trailed fingertips over the inside of her skull.

Lea was in the pilot seat, already going through the checklist, preparing for flight. Marguarita lifted her hand to attract Julio’s attention. Frantically she wiped her hands and scribbled a note to Julio.

Tell her we have to stabilize him before she can fly him out of here. Zacarias did what he could through me, but he says he needs his blood to survive the journey. He’s coming out and Lea can’t see him. She can’t know he’s in residence. I’ll explain as soon as I can.

Julio nodded. She was grateful he understood the gravity of the situation and didn’t waste time arguing with her. Outside the sky darkened and ominous clouds gathered and spun as if angry.

“We’ve got to go,” Lea shouted.

“Not yet,” Julio protested. “Marguarita has to stabilize him or he won’t make it.”

“The weather’s turning ugly,” Lea said. “If we don’t get moving we’re not getting him to the hospital.”

“The storm will pass fast,” Julio assured. “Trust me on this.”

I will be out in a couple of minutes. Zacarias’s voice entered Marguarita’s head.

I’ll tell you when it’s safe for you. There’s someone here who shouldn’t see you. She’s not one of us and I think her brother is a danger to you.

She will not see me.

Marguarita felt close to panic. She might not want to betray their friendship, but Marguarita didn’t know her well enough to count on her to remain silent if her brother insisted on the truth.

She handed Julio the note.

Take Lea somewhere for a few minutes.

Julio bent down and whispered into Lea’s ear. She nodded and tossed her headphones aside, sliding from the helicopter. They both ran toward the house. The sky darkened even more, the turbulent clouds casting dark shadows across the ground. The horses began to act up, half rearing and pawing the air, tossing their heads and dancing around. Marguarita waved the men away from the area, sending a calming touch to the horses.

In the midst of the storm clouds, she made out a stream of vapor moving through the shadows, staying beneath the canopy of trees and the various rooflines. Zacarias made his way through the yard to the large hangar.

He moved quickly into the large building, staying to the darker corners as he approached the helicopter. Marguarita moved to allow him inside. There wasn’t a lot of room with Ricco lying so quiet and still, taking up a good deal of space.

He’s barely breathing, she pointed out.

Zacarias took his human form, his wide shoulders and larger frame crowding Marguarita as he bent over the wounded man. “His lungs sustained damage.” Using his teeth, he opened the vein in his wrist and pressed it against Ricco’s mouth. “You will drink what is offered and you will stay alive. Do you hear me?”

Ricco’s mouth moved against Zacarias’s wrist. Marguarita couldn’t look away. It was repelling and fascinating at the same time. She knew Zacarias’s blood flowed in her veins; it was only because of him that she had lived through the vicious vampire attack. If Ricco lived, he would owe his life to Zacarias.

No, emnim—my woman, he will owe his life to you. I did this because you asked it of me. I do not meddle in the affairs of humans.

Thank you. He’s important to me. Ricco has served your family since he was a child and he’s always been loyal.

“It is enough that you asked me, Marguarita.” He whispered again to Ricco and took his wrist from the man’s mouth, closing the laceration. He ran his hand down the length of Marguarita’s hair. “Come back to the house and allow them to take him to the hospital. If he fights, and they have a good surgeon, he will live.”

You can’t be seen here. I’ll come as soon as Julio gets back. She was anxious for him to stay out of sight.

Zacarias flashed her a careless smile and her heart stuttered in her chest. He looked virile, so strong, it was hard to conceive that in the daylight he was vulnerable and even weak.

“You think I cannot handle a mortal? A female at that?”

She made a face at him. His ego was going to get him into trouble. The door to the house banged and she knew Julio was warning them that he was on the way back with Lea.

They’re coming back. Go now. Hurry. Disappear. She felt desperate. She didn’t trust Lea, or anyone else for that matter, not to talk about seeing him. He was too mesmerizing, too different. Too dangerous. You have to go.

Zacarias’s smile reached his eyes. He wrapped a length of her hair around his hand. “I like when your hair is a mess. You look as if we have been hours playing in the bedroom.”

He’d never said anything like that to her. No one had. She felt the blush start and go all the way down to her toes. Anxiety poured through her. She pushed at the wall of his chest. You have to go. I’m not joking.

He captured her hands, pressing her palms tight against his chest. Her heart accelerated until she thought it might jump out of her skin. He laughed softly. “There you go again, touching me without permission. How should I punish you? I wonder . . .”

She looked over his shoulder at Julio and Lea. Lea carried an armload of blankets. Please. Just go. Please hurry. You can do whatever when you’re safe.

“I can do whatever?” His eyebrow shot up. “That leaves me a lot of room.”

Julio glared at her, signaling frantically.

Zacarias!

He dissolved right in front of her. One moment he was solid, his heavy muscles under her palms, and the next he was gone and she was alone. She stepped quickly from the helicopter, giving Julio room to leap in beside Ricco.

“Has he helped then?” Julio whispered.

Lea handed in the blankets and climbed into the pilot’s seat. Already the clouds were dissipating just as fast as they’d formed.

Marguarita nodded and hurried back to the house while the helicopter rose into the sky.