Vampire's Faith (Dark Protectors Book 8)

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Vampire's Faith (Dark Protectors Book 8) Page 8

by Rebecca Zanetti


  He nodded. “Have you flown in an airplane before?”

  She stepped onto the concrete and slammed her door a little too forcefully. “Of course.”

  He moved around the car and took her arm. “Please give me your phone.”

  She jerked free. “No.”

  “Yes.” He didn’t want to engage in a tug-of-war with her. “I tracked you by your GPS, and I have no doubt the Kurjans will do the same.” Everything inside him rioted with the need to go back and end Dayne. Breaking his neck hadn’t been enough.

  Her mouth tightened, and she put her phone behind her back.

  Man, she was cute. “We both know I could take it from you, Doc.” It was the first time he’d used the nickname and he liked it. He held out his hand. “Either give it over, or…”

  Her pretty eyes blazed. Then, being an obviously intelligent woman, she slapped the phone into his hand. “You’re a dick.”

  Yeah. He probably was. “Thank you.” He slipped the phone back into the car and turned, keeping her arm and striding toward the waiting plane. Two males stood outside, neither armed, both watching him carefully. He tuned in his senses. Vampires. Pure vampires—no demon blood. He nodded.

  They both wore tan cargo pants, white shirts, and brown boots. Both were tall, but one was at least six-eight. He nodded. “We’re your pilots.”

  Pilots. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Ronan eyed the narrow steps leading into the belly of the plane. He gently set Faith in front of him and then followed her up the stairs. The plane had several plush leather seats, with two on either side of an aisle for five rows. A large television took up a wall in the front.

  Faith moved and chose a chair by the window, so he sat next to her, extending his feet and crossing his ankles. His palms grew damp, so he flattened them on his dark jeans. His stomach felt like a tremendous hand held it in an inflexible grip.

  The pilots jogged up the stairs and into the plane. One of them instantly headed up front, while the other one secured the stairs and shut the door. Without a word, he too disappeared up front.

  Ronan felt a change in cabin pressure in his ears. A sealed interior? He cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders.

  Faith put her back to the window and faced him. “Scared to fly?”

  He cut her a look, keeping his face stoic. “Of course not.” What kind of idiot wasn’t afraid to fly? Again…no wings. “Are you still mad at me?”

  The engines flared to life.

  His heartbeats increased in number and his ribs ached.

  The pilots set the plane in motion.

  Jesus. They were going to die. He stiffened.

  “Ronan. As soon as we’re in the air, you can use the laptop and learn more about the world.” Faith slipped her hand beneath his and entwined their fingers. “Flying is much safer than driving a car.”

  Her hand was cool and delicate in his, so he lightened his hold.

  “Good. Now relax your entire body. One thing at a time,” she said, her voice soothing.

  He breathed in and followed her instructions. The plane sped up and slowly lifted into the air. His gut dropped to his feet. A ringing set up between his ears.

  “Breathe,” Faith said calmly.

  He breathed. In and out. More. They kept climbing and finally leveled off. His entire body felt like he’d gone over a waterfall. “I’m all right,” he said, turning toward her. She must be a hell of a doctor. She’d helped him calmly and gently. His heart thumped hard for her. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” She withdrew her hand, making his fingers ache for another touch. Her light brown eyes were veiled. “Just didn’t want you going into a panic attack and ripping apart the plane.”

  Good point. Was that all, though? She’d very naturally offered comfort, when she still didn’t trust him. “You’re a sweetheart, you are,” he murmured.

  Spirit flashed in her eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

  He smiled, wanting nothing more than to ease her mind. “All right. Let’s review whatever that Kurjan said to you.”

  She arched one eyebrow. “Take everything you said to me, make it the opposite, and there you go.”

  He frowned. “Could you be a little more specific?”

  “Sure.” Pink filled her cheeks as her temper spiked. “You’re the Butcher and you have killed many of the Cyst.”

  He drew air in through his nose, wanting to give her the truth. “They do call me the Butcher, and I have killed many of the Cyst.” In ways a woman like her could never imagine and he would never express to her. “What else?”

  She swallowed. “You were the one contained in a prison dimension, there are female Kurjans and female vampires, the Kayrs marking on your palm is just a way to seduce women, and the Cyst are good guys. Monk-like.”

  Man, she was pretty when riled. Then her words caught him. “Good guys?” He couldn’t help the low chuckle that rolled up his throat. “Wow. What a load of crap.” He’d learned the expression the previous night, and right now it really fit. “And good ole Dayne brought his kid with him to disarm you.” As a strategic move, it was smart. When had the Kurjans gone from being desperate fighters to using subterfuge?

  This new world might hold more than a couple surprises.

  He focused first on his mate. “I told you the truth. There are no female vampires or Kurjans, but there are female demons, shifters, and witches. The Kurjans do call me the Butcher because I’m good in battle. The Cyst are bad guys, really bad guys, as are the Kurjans as a whole.”

  She stared at him, clearly not believing a word. If anything, she looked even angrier when he finished talking.

  He sighed and held up his palm. “This is the Kayrs marking, and it appears when our mate is near. Period.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He leaned in, appreciating it when her pupils widened again. “Do you really think I need to lower myself to using stunts in order to seduce a woman?”

  * * * *

  Faith stared into his somber eyes, noting the color change once again. The blue and green had melded together into a sizzling and intense mixture. The guy had a point. He was big and strong and handsome in a way that promised multiple orgasms. Would he need to use any sort of ruse? Probably not.

  He took her hand again, sending sparks of electricity up her arm, through her chest, and much lower. The ridges of the marking heated against her skin. “Faith. I would not lie to you.”

  Okay. She tried to reconcile her instincts about him with the knowledge she’d gleaned in the last few hours. “What if neither of you are lying?” she murmured.

  His upper lip quirked. “Impossible.”

  Maybe. “You’ve been gone about a thousand years, right?” Her mind quickly sorted facts into place.

  He nodded.

  “Things change and species evolve. What if there are female Kurjans and vampires now?” She leaned toward him, warming to her subject. “History gets changed daily, whether we like it or not. Maybe the Kurjan history is one where you were the bad guy. Where you were the one put in prison and not, um, what’s his name?”

  “Ulric,” Ronan all but growled.

  “Right. What if Dayne was taught a different history?” Ronan’s hand was warm—too warm. It was hard to concentrate with him touching her, and she had to get a grip on herself. “What if the Cyst have evolved and become true religious leaders? They didn’t threaten me or really harm me the other day, if the one was telling the truth about trying to get me out of danger. And you just killed them.” At the thought, her skin chilled. She shivered.

  Thoughts crossed his rugged face, but they were difficult to read. “That is insane,” he said, rather mildly.

  “You maintain there are no female Kurjans or vampires?” That was a verifiable difference in their stories. “What if there are both now?” Maybe their species had
evolved in the thousand years since Ronan had been on earth.

  His eyes lightened.

  “What?” she asked.

  He glanced down at their entwined fingers. “There’s a prophecy. A very old one—ancient. That one day a female vampire will be born, and her choices will dictate our survival. Whether vampires will become extinct.” His voice was almost reverent.

  Another shiver took Faith. “So it’s possible?”

  “Just the one female vampire,” he said, looking back up at her face. “That’s it. No female Kurjans and no other female vampires. Dayne lied to you.”

  Probably. But she needed to examine what she’d been told from every angle. “The rest of it is possible.”

  “And this?” Ronan released her, and the marking on his hand almost glowed. “Do you believe him?”

  She looked at the marking and tingles exploded again in her abdomen. What was it with that thing? “Say for a second that you’re telling the truth, and that’s a mating mark. What if the Kurjans have heard an alternate history? That the marks don’t really exist?” If the two groups were truly enemies—and there seemed to be no doubt about that—it was totally possible their views of history and of each other were skewed. “Maybe Dayne told the truth as he knew it.”

  Ronan slowly shook his head. “Not a chance. The Kurjans are evil and always will be. You can’t change the nature of a being, sweetheart. They’ve just begun using lies as well as swords and knives. Maybe.”

  “He said he was a diplomat,” she countered. But she remembered that Dayne had moved gracefully, like a soldier.

  Ronan’s lip twitched. “He told you he was a diplomat? The leader of the Kurjans?”

  She nodded, not liking his amusement. “Yes.”

  Ronan laughed out loud this time. “Man, he is good. That guy was pure soldier, and now I understand better.”

  “Understand what?” she asked, goose bumps rising on her arms.

  “How I so easily broke his neck,” Ronan said, his gaze warming again. “It was an act for your sake. So you’d think he was harmless.” He shook his head. “Nice. It was a risk, because I could’ve killed him. But he banked on the fact that I wouldn’t. Or that you would stop me.”

  What about Drake? He seemed like such a nice kid. So she gathered her courage and met Ronan’s gaze evenly. There had to be an explanation that worked for everyone and also let her off the hook for this ridiculous physical reaction to him. He couldn’t be evil. “Were you or were you not imprisoned in a different dimension?”

  “Yes,” he said, his chin lifting. “We created three worlds. The prison one in the middle and two on either side, containing it. My brother and I sacrificed our lives—agreeing to exist in the outside spheres—to make sure Ulric never escaped by fortifying the walls every damn day. Morning and night. He was the bad guy and still is. Period.”

  “Then how are you here?” she asked, truly wanting to understand.

  His gaze moved around as if he too sought an answer. “Somehow my dimension, or sphere, or world—failed. I am unaware of the events leading up to the failure of that world. And I don’t know if Quade’s broke as well as Ulric’s. We have to find those answers, Faith. We must.”

  He seemed so earnest. So truthful. Maybe a little lost. She cleared her throat. “Even if everything you say is true, you know I’m not going to mate you just because there’s a marking on your hand. Right?”

  A light she couldn’t identify burned in his eyes. “Right.”

  She swallowed as her throat tightened. “How does it work, anyway?” Darn her curiosity.

  He ran his finger along her palm. “Sex, a bite with fangs, and the transfer of the marking. Immortality would be yours.”

  Immortality? Now, that was appealing. Sort of. “Then I’d never see my parents again.”

  He shrugged. “Not true. We all die at some point. Some of us just get a few thousand years first. Who wouldn’t want that?”

  “Have you ever mated before?” she asked, truly wondering what kind of woman would appeal to him. Besides a modern-day doctor.

  He gave a slight shake of his head. “Oh. No. One mate only. That’s all we get.”

  Her eyebrows rose as she tried to comprehend. “Seriously? For thousands of years? That must make for a lot of infidelity.”

  He cocked his head to the side, his gaze searching her face. “No. None. A mate can’t touch another member of the opposite sex for any duration without succumbing to a terrible rash. It’s called the mating allergy.”

  Back to crazy-town, apparently. “That can’t be true.”

  Tension rolled off him, filtering around her. “Mate me and find out.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The landing had been smooth, but Ronan was certainly more relaxed on the ground. Acutely aware of the immortal at her side, Faith sat back in the luxurious town car as they navigated the gridlock of Chicago to a sketchy area of the city. Upon landing, the pilots had ushered them right to the car, which had already been running. The privacy screen was up, so she couldn’t get a read on the driver. Couldn’t see if he’d help her. “This is kidnapping, you know,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

  “Aye,” Ronan said, craning his neck to look up at a skyscraper. “Incredible.”

  Aye? “What are you, Irish?” she asked.

  “Part of me is, and I spent a lot of time outside of Dublin long ago.” He turned away from the window to face her. “Thank you for the use of your laptop on the plane. I studied modern weaponry and security measures. The amount of knowledge available to everyone on the Internet is truly awe-inspiring. In my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t have imagined the weapons humans would create. Nuclear and biological warfare concern me.”

  “As they should,” she said. “Stop changing the subject.”

  “Are you a prepper?”

  She frowned. “A what?”

  “A prepper. Somebody who preps for doomsday. With hidden food, weapons, medicine.” He scratched his head. “I watched a video of some people prepping, and they were training themselves with guns in a forest. Guns may be new to me, but I have to tell you, those men were doing it wrong.”

  She rubbed her aching temple. “No. I am not a prepper.”

  He nodded, approval in his gaze. “That is good. You have no need.” He looked outside again at the buildings flying by. “I have a concern about privacy in this new paradigm. For now, anyway. Satellites are impressive. Cameras are everywhere.”

  “For now?” Her head was starting to hurt from her frown, and it didn’t seem to be intimidating Ronan, anyway. “What do you mean?”

  He faced her fully, and she could actually feel his gaze deep beneath her skin. His scent wrapped around her and even now, she couldn’t exactly describe it. Woodsy and comfortable and on edge. The scent was just…him. Intelligence shown in those otherworldly eyes. “It’s all temporary. You understand that, true?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  He swept a broad hand out. “This. The buildings, the cameras, the technology. It’s a blip in time. All this won’t be everlasting—especially with humans creating such weapons. Land and family and ties and blood last forever. That’s all.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” she said quietly. “I have faith in the future.”

  “As do I, but we might see the future differently,” he said, his gaze wandering her face. “You’re still angry. Would you like me to get your sketch pad? Drawing might help you to relax.”

  She hated that he’d figured that out about her. At the moment, she was more likely to stab him with the pencil than to draw anything interesting. “No. How about you don’t ever kidnap me again? Then I’ll feel nice and relaxed.”

  “I couldn’t exactly leave you alone since the Kurjans had already found you. You’re my mate.”

  “No,” she burst out, “I’
m not, damn it. Get that out of your head right now.”

  His eyes darkened to a glint of green color on battered bluish steel. “I’m a patient male, Doc. But finding you in the presence of the Kurjan leader—if that’s who he really was—has greatly depleted my stores. Not to mention the unholy act of flying we just endured. I suggest you hold your tongue.”

  Hold her tongue? Anger raced through her so quickly her head rang. “Just who the hell do you think you are?” she snapped.

  “Your. Mate.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m allowing you time to learn what that means and to adapt to this new reality.”

  “Or what?” She poked him in the chest, telling herself his audacity did nothing but piss her off further. “What exactly is your course of action here, oh-so-patient one?” She poked him harder. “You can’t mate the unwilling.”

  He moved before she could blink.

  One second she was in her own seat, and the next she was perched on his lap. One broad hand spread across her upper chest, above her heart, securing her against the muscled arm along her back.

  She couldn’t move her upper body.

  So she kicked out, her boots bouncing harmlessly on the vacated leather seat.

  He leaned down until his face was merely an inch from hers.

  She stopped breathing.

  “Do you really think you’d be unwilling?” he growled.

  A tremor started in her lower abdomen and spread out, sensitizing her entire body. “Release me,” she whispered. This close, she could see the blue rim around the aqua of his eyes.

  “No,” he whispered back just as softly. “You need to learn when to stop pushing.”

  She was so out of her league right now she couldn’t see straight. “You can’t force me to mate you.” How crazy was her life that she was even using those words?

  “Force?” His gaze warmed now. The hand across her chest—her entire chest—moved up, and he ran his knuckles along the edge of her jaw. The touch heated her with an electricity that had to be unnatural. Her blood pumped faster through her veins, and the air in her lungs burned. “I would never force you.”

 

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