It hurt to move. Everything hurt, just the act of lifting her arm was painful, as if there were minor cracks in her bone. She was certain the damage was all severe bruising, but that small, subtle movement still sent white lightning streaking through her body.
Lea’s eyelashes fluttered. She frowned at Marguarita and slowly shook her head, fearing repercussions, but, although she clearly didn’t understand what Marguarita’s hand was doing sliding so stealthily up the leg of the end table, she valiantly shifted her body just enough to block DS’s view should he look. Her eyes went wide when Marguarita’s fist came away from under the table with the knife. The blade was four inches long and honed to a razor-sharp edge, tucked inside a smooth leather sheath. Marguarita shoved the knife as deep into the pocket of her skirt as she possibly could.
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.