Dark Predator d-22

by Christine Feehan

  His mouth took hers. There was no gentleness, he was too far gone for that, caught up in the tangle of emotions he needed to sort out. He fed his addiction to her, craving the taste of her, needing her submission, her surrender, needing her to give herself to him without reservation. She had turned his world upside down. Brought memories best buried deep to the surface. She had placed him in an intolerable position as a hunter.

  I wish I could say I was sorry for wanting you to stay with me, for stopping you from seeking the dawn. I should be sorry and I’m ashamed that I can’t let you go. I need you to stay with me.

  Her voice was soft and a little sorrowful, turning his heart over. Her slender arms crept around his neck and she leaned her entire body into the shelter of his. It was a form of paradise to a man who had never known happiness. Or joy. There was joy just in holding her. His tongue danced with hers, probed and explored and claimed her. His teeth tugged on her full lower lip, biting down gently, just enough to feel her breath catch before kissing her again and again. He took his time devouring her. He kissed his way down her neck, leaving dozens of little bite marks, tiny stings he eased with his tongue and half a dozen strawberries he left just because he could.

  He raised his head and waited for her lashes to lift so he could look into her eyes. So she would know he meant what he said. “I would not have missed being with you for the world. Whatever happens in the nights to come, Marguarita, never think that I will ever regret any moment spent with you. Hopefully it will be hundreds of years, but if not, I will not regret that you kept me alive.”

  Thank you for that.

  She smiled at him, her lips swollen from his kisses, her neck and throat red with his marks of possession, and happiness shining in her eyes. She took his hand. Come meet the horses.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her there would be no meeting her beloved animals. He scanned the ranch to ensure no vampire was near and went out into the night with her. Stars glittered overhead and the moon spilled her silvery light across the grass.

  Zacarias reluctantly followed her toward the stable. It was a long, well-built building. As he approached, he could hear the horses stamping and blowing, dancing in their stalls, aware that a predator was near. At the entrance, there was no doubt that he was wreaking havoc with the even-tempered animals. Several reared and plunged, raked the air with their front hooves and tossed their heads, eyes rolling.

  Zacarias caught her arm. “No farther. You will not go in there with those animals.”

  He felt her mind expand, reach out and connect with the horses. It was a strange sensation, not unlike what he experienced when he took the form of another creature but even more so, as if they were joined not only in mind, but in spirit.

  You smell like a predator to them. You are not evil to them. Or tainted.

  She had found his fears once again and he tried not to react with anger. He didn’t ever look that closely at the why of the animals not accepting him. They didn’t. It was a fact. Anything else he simply pushed away. What did it matter—the why? He didn’t know if it was true that he feared they found him evil and tainted, but if she saw that in him—it was most likely there. She was uncovering secrets he kept even from himself. The more she found, the more reluctant he was for her to find more, yet he couldn’t live without her mind connecting completely with his and that gave her access to everything he was—everything he had been.

  “It does not matter why they will not accept me, only that they will not,” he pointed out.

  She tightened her fingers in his. They will accept you just as they do me. After all, we’re one, aren’t we?

  His heart jumped and inwardly he cursed himself for being such a fool. It was impossible. He knew the horses wouldn’t let him near and yet somewhere inside of himself—he believed in her.

  12

  Zacarias tugged Marguarita to an abrupt halt, by the simple act of ceasing to move. They stood together at the open doors of the stable. The horses were rolling eyes and tossing heads, watching the door in mounting terror.

  You smell menacing. I find it quite sexy, but the animals are afraid. Give me a moment to calm them so they can connect with you in the same way I do.

  The soft amusement, the caressing “I find it quite sexy” slid into his mind like massaging fingers over his body, but he refused to give in to her. Danger was danger, no matter where or who the threat came from. He locked her to his side.

  “I will not allow you into that building with the horses riled up. You saw what happened to your friend Ricco.”

  She rubbed her cheek against his arm much like a cat. It would be easier for me to calm them inside, close to them. It would only take a moment.

  “I said no.” There was steel in his voice, in his heart.

  He would give her the moon if she asked. He’d walk through fire, but this—this—never. She could plead with him, look at him with her incredible eyes and it would only serve to harden his resolve. Her safety was paramount. At the moment, he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and haul her back inside where no harm could come to her.

  Amusement teased his senses. He felt his cock stir and his nerve endings come alive. That little whisper of laughter, not heard, but felt, never failed to arouse him.

  Were you alive during the caveman days? I could see you dressed in animal fur, hauling your woman into the cave by her hair.

  Her teasing would always be erotic to him. When a man had never had such things, they became treasures when he found them. Laughter had never been a part of his world, certainly not teasing. She didn’t fight his commands. She didn’t pout or get angry. She laughed softly and rubbed along his body with hers, just as if she felt those snapping electrical sparks in the same way he did.

  “Do not tempt me, my beautiful lunatic. Dragging you to your bed by your hair is not out of the question.” His voice came out gruff, husky even, not at all menacing like he intended.

  Her soft laughter teased his groin into semifullness. The sweet ache permeated his body, his temperature going up a few degrees. He was Carpathian and always in control, but what she did to his body was so exquisite, he allowed the sensations to pour through him, savoring every ache, every degree of mounting desire.

  I want you to stay in my mind very quietly. Feel the way I pour myself into the horses. I do it very slowly, a soft warmth, like this . . .

  His entire body shuddered as she came inside of him. Not just his mind, but invaded his soul. Her presence was far more intimate than she intended, but already, that same hunger and need was clawing at her, just as it raked at him. Her presence was light, almost delicate, but with him, very sexual.

  “I would prefer that only I feel this connection with you—in fact I demand it.”

  A dark swirling shadow rose to the surface. His teeth lengthened and something deadly rose with the shadow. He made no attempt to hide it from her. She had to know what she had tied herself to. Life was full of unexpected moments, and this was a surprise to both of them, but no less lethal.

  Everything in him stilled. For the first time that he could remember, he felt the predator rising. He felt the deadly menace spreading and growing and the ice building to cover his emotions, to obliterate all feeling, making him a much more efficient killer.

  Of course I don’t feel that way about anyone—or anything else. The only sexual feelings I’ve ever had have been toward you. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but the feelings are very strong and hard to control around you. When I’m inside you, I can’t help but want to be with you in any way. I’m sorry if that upsets you. I promise to try to do better.

  She struggled to give him the correct impressions in her mind and heart. She was very sincere, and very concerned for him. Again, there was no fear, no pulling away. She didn’t flinch or look at him with contempt or anger.

  Her palm moved up his chest. She looked him straight in the eye. Whatever you need, Zacarias, I will provide. If that means we wait to do this, until you unders
tand you are my one and only, then that is what we’ ll do. Just tell me.

  He could feel her intense need to show him the truth, even though it embarrassed her a little. The sheer courage in her, the way she kept her word, giving herself to him fully and without reservation in every situation no matter the cost to her, astounded him.

  Zacarias knew how much she loved the horses. He could feel the joy in her when she spoke of them or thought of them, yet she was willing to turn around and walk back to the house with him if that was what he needed. She humbled him with her gift. With her serenity. With her efforts to put him first. She simply stood in front of him, quietly waiting his decision.

  Zacarias drew her into his arms and buried his face in the thick mass of her hair—the hair she’d left wild and messy just for him. How small a thing was it for him to allow her to calm the animals, especially if he was the one making them edgy and perhaps even dangerous?

  “You shame me, Marguarita.”

  No! She shook her head violently and stepped back to look him in the eyes again. Don’t do that. Don’t ever do that. You are my choice, just the way you are. I am not asking for changes. I will do whatever you wish.

  She wasn’t asking anything of him for herself that he could see. In truth, she had asked for the life of a friend. He had saved the man because she’d asked him to, but her motives weren’t selfish.

  He gestured toward the stable. “Continue. And do not worry about the way you feel. It pleases me that when we are together you are aroused by me.”

  She smiled at him. I am aroused by the mere thought of you, Zacarias. I don’t have to be in your presence. That’s how pathetic and obsessed I’ve become.

  He frowned at her. “Not pathetic. I am pleased.”

  Marguarita studied his face as if seeking something—reassurance perhaps. He was certain she didn’t want him going berserk and destroying her horses in a jealous rage.

  Again that sweet amusement slid into his mind. It never occurred to me that you would do such a thing.

  There it was. Her naivete, her innocence didn’t allow her the imagination to see the true depths of the monster she had tied herself to for all time. He refused to lie to her. To look away from her. “I am quite capable of such an action given the right provocation.”

  She frowned. What would that be?

  He squared his shoulders. She had courage and she deserved truth. “Jealousy. A threat to me—to you. To us.”

  There. It was out between them. The truth of what he was. Let her try to pretend she wasn’t appalled, sickened even, wishing she could shun him as the rest of the world did—and should. He watched her expressive and transparent face closely. At the same time, he held himself still inside of her, wanting to know every thought in her head.

  Marguarita sighed and brought his hand to her mouth, kissing his scarred knuckles. You have a very skewed vision of who you are and what you’re capable of, Zacarias. It’s a good thing I can see inside of you. I think you are deliberately trying to frighten me. Do I see that you are capable of great violence? Of course. I have access to your memories—all of them—even the ones you refuse to revisit. Are you capable of murder? Killing for killing’s sake? No. Solidly no. Firmly no. All the arguing in the world won’t change what I know to be true.

  He heard himself groan. He leaned his forehead tight against hers. “I have no idea what I am going to do with you, Marguarita.”

  Again her soft amusement filled his mind, bringing that heat that kept growing and moving through him, chasing out shadows and replacing them with light.

  Fortunately for you, I have all kinds of ideas. Let me take you into the stables, Zacarias. I want to share this with you. It’s the one thing I have to give you—a gift. My gift to you.

  She made him feel as if he could do anything. Was this love? Was this what he had been searching for all over the world, through centuries, never knowing such a thing really existed? He felt he could endure the warmth of the sun as long as he had her. She had brought colors to real, vivid life. Maybe there was nothing she couldn’t do, no miracle she couldn’t work. Maybe the horses would accept him into the stable as long as he had her by his side.

  “If it means so much to you, sívamet, then we will try.”

  Her face lit up and he felt everything in him settle again. She took his hand, threading her fingers through his. Let yourself drift with me. Stay inside me. You’ll feel what you need to do eventually.

  Once again he felt her pouring into him, all that heat and fire, all that fascinating light spreading through him like a million candles. The fire turned molten, spreading slow and thick through his mind and body, until he felt that connection deep. Spirit. He often left his own body and became nothing but spirit in order to heal a fellow warrior. He had done that very thing to save Marguarita when the vampire had torn out her throat those months earlier. He should have suspected, yet it came as a surprise.

  Marguarita was entirely human, yet she possessed strong psychic ability. Her connection with animals—and her first connections with him—had been spirit to spirit. She shed her ego, what and who she was, and became a being of welcoming light. Even for a Carpathian, shedding what he was, shedding his physical body, was a difficult task, yet she did it so smoothly and easily, he hadn’t realized what, within him, she was bonding with.

  His spirit. He was very aware of it as he never had been. He felt her bathe him in scorching heat, dispelling the deeper shadows that had taken hold. They fled before her as if she would destroy them with her brightness. He felt light. Different. Saved. But he knew his salvation would last only as long as she was connected to him.

  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 w
ide 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.