Did they? Catch you all together?
“They thought they had. They had not counted on me or another warrior, Dominic. Nor had they considered that the women would fight—or the humans.” Just the brief encounter with Marguarita’s wounds after the harpy eagle had carried her through the sky, tearing her flesh with its talons, had made him so much more aware of the fragility of humans—and yet his people there had gone willingly into battle to defend the property.
Did they know what they were facing?
He jerked his head up. “Are you reading my thoughts?”
Your feelings. You feel sorrow for the ones who fell. You admire them.
He shook his head to deny the charge. He felt nothing. His mind turned over his new understanding as fact, storing it away with all the other pieces of information he had collected in his long lifespan. But emotions had no place in his world.
Did they know what they were facing? She urged an answer.
He nodded his head. “Nicolas spoke to them all and gave them the option to leave. It was recommended that women and children be moved. They refused. They stayed, although my brother made it clear that we would suffer casualties and any who left would not forfeit their rights to continue to work for us. A full assault had never been planned and launched by vampires, and we knew the battle would be brutal.”
Show me.
“I will not.” He said the words quietly.
Slow color slipped under her skin. Her gaze jumped to his. He felt her inquiry and there was a tinge of hurt attached.
“War is not for you. You had an encounter with a vampire and one is more than enough. They will never get close to you again as long as I am alive.”
Marguarita put down her fork and studied his face. I work for your family. We are sworn to protect you, señor, and I will, as will the others who work here. We are every bit as courageous and as loyal as those who serve you in Brazil.
It took him a moment to assimilate the jumble of impressions she sent. He had offended her. “You misunderstand me. I am well aware of your loyalty and courage. I know you have every intention of protecting me . . .” He had thought to find the idea not only ludicrous but dim-witted and simple-minded. A childhood fantasy. But he found his thoughts had changed with knowing her. He couldn’t help being secretly pleased that although she feared him, she had in fact raced to call in the hunters to destroy him, that at the thought of vampires coming for him, her thoughts were fiercely protective of him. Feelings were odd things and difficult to accept in himself as well in others. Emotions clearly complicated everything.
She sketched a question mark in the air between them. He shook his head and refused to answer. He wanted her mind firmly in his. He demanded nothing less from her. Their ability to communicate grew each time she formed pictures and impressions of the words she wanted to speak. He would be different than her human companions. With him, she could “speak” without her actual voice. The intimacy of it pleased him.
“You will obey me in this, Marguarita, without question.”
He deliberately held her gaze for a moment so she could see there would be swift retaliation if she dared to defy his order outright. And knowing her strange infirmity for doing the opposite of anything smacking of a command, he would be watching her very closely for defiance. He waited until she looked away first before continuing.
“We killed every one of the vampires sent after us, as well as the puppets they created. The masterminds have no time to raise another army to bring against me. Rather, I suspect, they will nip at my flanks to weaken me and then one will come to attempt to destroy me. They will have learned their lesson by now.”
This time the question mark was meticulously drawn in his mind. He found that warm bubble of laughter rising. She’d been so obviously annoyed at the word obey. The way she squirmed a little in her chair and tried so carefully to hide her irritation from him was rather endearing. He might just have to throw that word into the conversation often to see what eventually happened. If anyone would dare to surprise him, it was obviously going to be Marguarita.
What does that mean? Their lesson? What did it teach them, sending an army after you and your brothers?
“They like to be safe and sacrifice their pawns. Two of the five masters were destroyed. There are three left. If they want me dead, only a master has a chance of defeating me. Not just any master, one of the Malinov brothers must come for me.”
A shiver went through her. Her warm brown eyes went very dark. He leaned forward to peer into those enormous, dove-soft eyes.
“There is no need to be afraid. I welcome his coming. Should he defeat me, he will have too great a fear of my brothers to remain close.”
Abruptly she pushed her chair back, rose and took her unfinished meal and the teacup to the sink where she meticulously washed and dried them, her back to him. It was a silly human gesture, turning her back, as if that could possibly keep him out of her mind. There was no way to retreat from him now that he had discovered her—shared her mind and exquisite blood with him.
“I speak only the truth to you.”
She swung around, her back to the sink, her face so expressive his heart clenched down hard like a vise. This time, when the pain flashed through his body, he made a conscious effort to feel it, to allow it into his mind. Her eyes swam with tears, turning all that beautiful dark to a fathomless pool. It was impossible to fully comprehend the jumble of impressions in her chaotic mind, but she was upset and he’d somehow managed again to be the one to upset her.
Zacarias sighed. Females were difficult at best; one never knew what they were going to do from one moment to the next. They were without logic or reason. At least this one was. He hadn’t been around any others for any significant amount of time so maybe others were different, but this woman made no sense to him.
“Stop that,” he ordered abruptly, pressing his palm hard over his heart as if he could heal the ache her tears caused.
Stop what? She looked confused.
He watched both fascinated and horrified as one tear tipped over her feathery bottom lashes and ran down her face. His heart stuttered. “That,” he snarled.
He stepped close, crowding her. Waves of distress poured off of her. There was no sound, not even a small one, but he was aware of every tiny thing about her and deep inside where no one else would ever see, she was weeping.
Acidic poison from vampire blood could not kill him. Torture. Mortal wounds. He had endured them all and survived, but this . . . this silent weeping by this woman for him—and God help both of them, it was for him—was too much. He might dissolve into a puddle at her feet. Entirely unacceptable and disturbing that she could wield such a powerful sword against him.
He dragged her against him, his body without give, with no soft edges to it, so that the air rushed out of her lungs and she had to catch at his arms to steady herself. He needed to hold her to him, without a clear idea of why, but he couldn’t look at her tear-drenched eyes another moment. One hand passed over her face, wiping away all evidence. He brought his palm to his mouth and tasted her tears.
You can’t order me not to cry.
“Of course I can. And by all that’s holy, this one time, you will obey me.” Palming the back of her head, he pressed her face tight against his chest.