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 defiance. There was no reasoning with him. He was set in his way, certain he was right, and she wouldn’t—couldn’t—give in to him. He made her nervous with that quiet promise of retaliation she sensed, that absolute iron will she knew she wouldn’t get around, but he had come up against that side of her that was just as determined and just as certain she was justified.
Zacarias, you were able to darken the sky and emerge before sunset to save Ricco. It was close, but it was still before you should have been able to do so. And when I found you that morning. . . She hated bringing that morning up. He had chosen an honorable death and she had interfered. He had been righteously angry with her. You should have been dead already, completely incinerated, the sun had been out for a little while. I think you’re more resistant to it than you believe. If I stall them and my plan doesn’t work, and they get to your resting place, then you’ll be that much stronger.
I have forbidden you to endanger yourself.
She sighed. There was no getting through a brick wall. We’ll have to agree to disagree.
As long as you understand all consequences are also your choice.
She shivered, blinking back tears when she made the mistake of biting down on her swollen lip. You’re making this worse for me.
She needed him to retreat, to allow her to concentrate on misleading DS and Esteban. It took courage and Zacarias could sap her courage faster than anyone. Marguarita felt Zacarias’s instant, instinctive rejection of her evaluation.
Lea gripped her wrist, distracting her. Her gaze jumped to Esteban as he went up on his knees, his arms curled in the classic begging position.
“Tongue out, faithful Fido,” DS laughed. He went back a third time, taking most of the powder.
Esteban cried out and flung himself forward, shoving his face onto the table in desperation. A single sound emerged from Lea, a low keening moan. She buried her face in her hands, unable to watch her brother humiliate himself for the drug.
Marguarita pulled her notepad out of her other pocket and carefully scribbled a message to Lea. It could not fall into DS or Esteban’s hands.
There is a panic button at the top of the stairs under the picture of my father. If you can open the front door, hit that button. All the men will come running. But they can’t enter the house if the door isn’t open.
Marguarita snuck a quick peek at DS, who was laughing hysterically at Esteban. She continued, writing as fast as she could, her body covering the movements.
You can’t hit the button to call the men if you can’t get the door open for them. Too dangerous.
She slid the paper across the floor faceup under Lea’s hand, so she could read it. Lea peered through her fingers at the note. Her eyes went wide and she nodded. Before Marguarita could take back the paper, she crumbled it into her fist and brought it to her mouth. Marguarita smiled at her. They were locked forever in that moment of complete camaraderie and understanding. She could count on Lea. They were in it together. Live or die.
DS’s maniacal laughter cut off abruptly. Marguarita felt every muscle tense as his gaze settled on the two women.
“What are you lying on the floor for? Get your asses up. If you want this bitch to live through the next five minutes, tell me where he is.” He stalked across the room and dragged Lea to her feet, shoving his gun against her left eye.
Marguarita struggled to stand, making a show of pulling herself up the wall, gasping and clutching her ribs. She looked around her for help, and then caved when he pressed the muzzle tight against Lea’s eye.
Marguarita indicated the kitchen with her chin, her gaze sliding away from his in a cowed manner. DS stepped close to her, catching her arm, jerking her close to him. The smell of the drug oozed from his pores making her want to gag. She cowered away from him, throwing up her other arm as a shield as if to protect her battered face.
He gripped her tighter, his fingers digging into her skin, wanting to leave bruises, wanting her to feel his strength. Realization of how gently Zacarias touched her flooded her mind, bringing her a warmth she hugged to herself. Zacarias’s strength was ten times what this man’s was, yet once he’d learned that humans were indeed quite different from Carpathians, his care of her had always been uppermost in his mind. Even when he was a little rough during sex, marking her body, he took the time to ease any soreness after he’d learned her body’s responses.
DS was a man who enjoyed inflicting pain and humiliation on others. DS was the monster Zacarias thought himself to be. Zacarias would never prolong suffering for the sake of watching it. He dispensed justice. He eradicated evil, but he didn’t enjoy his job. He simply did it to the best of his ability.
“Esteban, get your ass up off the floor.”
For the first time, Marguarita allowed herself to look at Lea’s brother. DS had knocked the remaining powder from the table onto the floor. Esteban was busily trying to get every speck. His face, when he looked up, was speckled with white. Her heart went out to Lea who made a soft sound of pain.
DS heard her and laughed, enjoying himself even more. “Yeah, Lea, look at him. Your big brother, that’s all that matters to him. Not you. You follow him all around the world. You know what he does? He smuggles weapons for me. He traffics women. Children. Whatever I ask. He’d sell his soul for that drug. And this one . . .” He shook Marguarita like a rag doll. “She serves the devil. You really need to have better judgment.”
Listen to his voice. He is very angry with her. He obviously belongs to the society that believes in vampires and has targeted my family for death, but there is much more to this.
Marguarita’s heart
jumped. She hadn’t known Zacarias was still in her mind, quiet and careful, a presence watching, but she should have. Once she was in danger, whether she was holding the bridge between them or not, he wouldn’t leave her alone. He was that kind of man. Her mind worked quickly to grasp what he was saying.
Lea was in desperate trouble, maybe more than Marguarita was. DS was fanatical about vampires, but this wasn’t all about Zacarias. DS had sought out Esteban for a reason, had controlled him out of anger. This was about Lea.
He must have tried to make a move on her first, before all this. She has a natural ability to recognize evil. She probably is not aware of it, but she would definitely resist any advances, because her subconscious would protect her. He is drawn to light and innocence and needs to corrupt and destroy it. He wants her. You can use that. He will not want to kill her. Hurt her—yes—but not kill her.
Marguarita was appalled. I am not going to put her in danger.
There was a brief moment of warmth slipping through the ice in her mind. Silly woman. You want her to run to the door and open it for Cesaro and his men. I am telling you he will not kill her. That should ease your mind, not make you feel guilty. You truly are a little illogical lunatic.
She knew he was trying to distract her from fear. Fear paralyzed anyone, and with DS dragging her into the kitchen, her heart pounded, accelerating out of control. She could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood in her mouth. This plan had to work. Zacarias had made her feel a little better. At least he wasn’t raging at her, making things worse.
She stumbled several times, each tiny delay a second she counted in Zacarias’s favor. She pointed very reluctantly to the root cellar door with a trembling hand. The moment DS dropped her arm, she hastily pulled out her notepad.
He will kill me for such a betrayal.
DS wrenched the satchel from Esteban’s hands. “He’ll be dead when I drive a stake through his heart, cut off his head and fill his mouth with garlic.”
“You can’t believe Zacarias De La Cruz is sleeping under the ground,” Lea burst out. “You’re insane to think that.”
Marguarita touched her wrist and urgently shook her head, but Lea continued, her voice filled with contempt.
“He’s a man, flesh and blood, just like us. I’ve seen him. He’s far too elegant to ever have slept in dirt. He didn’t have fangs and I sat at a table with him drinking tea and eating cake.”
DS reacted immediately, savagely, swinging out with the heavy satchel, slamming the bag into Lea’s stomach, doubling her over. Lea fell into the wall, hitting the back of her head hard. She slid to the floor. DS kicked her hip and spat. He grabbed Marguarita by her long hair and dragged her to the door of the cellar.
“You first, bitch, just in case this is a trap.”
Is she dead? Could you tell? Frantically, as she opened the cellar door, she called out to Zacarias. She should have tried harder to stop Lea from taunting DS. Lea didn’t seem to realize that she was the trigger.
Turn your head.
She felt Zacarias moving in her and for a moment her vision was strange. She held her breath as DS yanked her back around and nearly shoved her down the stairs. She caught the wall, switching on the light. The stairs were narrow and steep. Only one person at a time could go down them.
She is alive. I saw her chest moving.
Relief swept over her. She let out her breath and began the descent into the root cellar. She took each stair cautiously, trying to count out ten seconds between each step, aware of the sun’s position as she never had been before. There was still far too much time before it sank and allowed Zacarias his freedom.
“Esteban, bring your sister down here. If she refuses to walk, drag her down by her feet.”
Esteban laughed. “You’re one mean son of a bitch, Dan.”
“I told you never to call me that,” DS snapped.
Furious, he shoved Marguarita between the shoulder blades, sending her flying. She landed hard, facedown in the dirt, the wind knocked out of her. DS stepped over her and looked around with satisfaction. The floor was all dirt. The place was cool and dark, a perfect environment for vampires. He glanced at his watch before toeing Marguarita.
“Get over there, against the wall, away from the stairs.”
She scrambled to get out of his reach, wincing when Lea screamed. She was proud of her friend for not pleading with Esteban. It was evident that he was lost to them, in the grip of the drug and deep under DS’s influence. Lea sank down beside her and they held hands, the folds of Marguarita’s skirt hiding that small act of camaraderie.
“What will happen when they don’t find anything,” Lea whispered fearfully.
Marguarita shrugged a little helplessly. She tasted dread in her mouth. She would have to act to save Zacarias. She would never give him up. She hadn’t betrayed him to the vampire and she wouldn’t to such a foul creature as DS.
Both men began to shovel dirt as fast as they could. The soil was rather loose on the top and easy at first, but as they went deeper it became more difficult, packed tight, hard, almost like cement.
“Do you see, Esteban? This is his resting place or it wouldn’t be like this.” Excitement permeated DS’s voice.
“It’s damned difficult,” Esteban complained.
“Just keep digging.”
Marguarita had never known any of their soil to be so hard and she could only surmise that Zacarias had used his energy to change the composition.
Don’t. You’ll need your strength just in case I fail, she reprimanded.
I am of the earth and Mother Earth protects her own as best she can.
The cryptic reply didn’t help her anxiety very much. An hour and a half crept by. Both men had long ago shed their shirts, sweating and swearing. The earth yawned open like a beckoning monster, the gaping hole a good six feet in depth.
DS wiped the sweat from his face and glared at Marguarita, his face once again a mask of fury. “You lied to me.”
Esteban screamed, the sound high-pitched and frightened. He pointed toward the hole, backing away.
17
Rats. Little rats digging in the earth. Deep beneath the rich soil, Zacarias could hear the two men sinking their shovels into the ground. Scraping. Slicing. Ripping apart the dirt, digging like the rats they were. The sound echoed through the layers of soil, spreading like a disease, that endless ripping and tearing. Mother Earth shuddered at the vicious attack and he felt her reaching for him, surrounding him with safe arms.
His body was leaden, but his mind raced, trying to figure out a way to overcome the curse of his species. Never in his life had he felt so completely helpless. So frustrated. He had always accepted the weakness that was the price for great strength and power. The night belonged to his kind and the day belonged to humans. That was the way of his world and it was as much a part of him as living on blood.
All those centuries and he had never once railed against that law, but he had been the only one at risk. Just him. His life had been one of duty and acceptance. Had they found him before, it would have mattered little. But this was not about him. This was different. Everything was different.
His woman—his lifemate—was in danger and he could do absolutely nothing. He had no control over the situation. No control over Marguarita. No ability to destroy the men who threatened her. He was forced to lie helpless while she suffered and that was much more difficult to bear than if someone had hammered a stake through his own heart.
DS had put his hands on her—a crime punishable by death—and yet he’d even done worse. He had struck her. Zacarias felt every blow landing on her soft body. He allowed himself to feel, to absorb the pain she experienced. The pounding seemed a lifetime, blows raining down on her face, her breasts, and then her ribs. The kicks struck her hips and legs and arms. The breath had left her lungs in an explosive burst, leaving a desperate burning for air.
Fury swept through him. A rage deeper than anything he’d ever known. He’d forbidden h
er to place herself in such danger and yet she had disobeyed him. She had deliberately led his enemies away from his resting place. They had been digging for a long while and he could tell by the slowing of the shovels that their belief was beginning to wane. They would turn their anger on Marguarita and he would be unable to stop them.
Summoning every ounce of strength he possessed, he sent his will rising through the earth.
“Where the hell is he?” DS demanded, throwing down his shovel in disgust. He glared at Marguarita. “You’d better tell me or, I swear, I’ll bury you alive down here.”
She slowly got to her feet and scribbled on her notepad. I told you he never stays long. This is the only place I know that he goes.
DS slapped the paper from Marguarita’s hand, wrenched her around and dragged her toward the open grave.
Marguarita flung herself away from the yawning hole and pointed upstairs frantically.
“You’ll take me there this time, or else, do you understand?”
He was angry enough to bury her alive, she could see that. She nodded her head frantically. Deep inside her mind she could hear herself screaming against what she was about to do. Now or never. She had to end this, or die trying.
No. Marguarita, bring him to me. Do not do this.
For the first time, she actually felt panic in Zacarias. He would never understand, but she felt she had no choice. I love you. I’m sorry, but I will never give you up. Never. Nothing will induce me to do it. Please don’t stay with me through this.
“Stop! Stop this right now.” Lea leaped to her feet and rushed DS. “You’re crazy. Absolutely out of your mind.” She flung herself at DS, pounding on his back.
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