Carpathian 18 - Dark Possesion

didn't mean for you to kill them. Maybe they're just curious about my jacket." She made a scooting gesture with her free hand. "Move along, little froggies." Hurry before the big bad Carpathian fries you all. I mean it, you've got to move . Silently she urged them to cooperate, while mentally rolling her eyes. For heaven's sake, how much damage could a tiny little innocent tree frog do, after all? She didn't want to see Riordan do anything like rain down fire on the poor helpless things. "Shoo, shoo. Go back to your little froggy homes."
    The frogs took to the trees, the movement sending a strange wave of green over the tangle of roots, as dozens of frogs skittered away toward the safety of the higher branches. MaryAnn sent Riordan a small little sniff.
    "What were you going to do, make them into shish kebab? Poor little things. They're probably as scared as I am."
    Did you feel that, Juliette? That surge of power? She made the frogs leave. And she's sneering at me.
    Sneering . He was going to have to revise his thinking about his brother's lifemate. "Those frogs are poisonous. Natives used them for years to tip their arrows," he couldn't resist adding.
    MaryAnn straightened slowly, automatically looking at her broken nail. Her nails grew abnormally fast, they always had, but now her nail polish was going to be a mess. And it was hurting like hell. It always did when she broke off a nail. Her finger would throb and burn and tingle as the nail regenerated.
    She nicked a scowl at Riordan. "Don't try to scare me with frogs. I don't like them, but I'm not that big of a city girl." She was, but he didn't need to know that.
    "They really are toxic," Juliette confirmed. "Riordan is telling the truth. It isn't normal to see so many frogs in one area, and they certainly shouldn't be following us."
    MaryAnn glanced at the frogs surrounding them. "Are they following?" The idea made her nervous. She didn't want them killed, but she wanted them gone. Out of sight. Of course then they might be hidden in the foliage, staring with their giant eyes just like everything else in the rain forest seemed to be doing.
    "Yes, and so are the monkeys," Riordan said, folding his arms across his chest and indicating the canopy with a nod of his chin.
    MaryAnn was afraid to look. Frogs were one thing—and she chose to leave out the poisonous part—but monkeys were furry little beasts with near-human hands and big teeth. She knew that because once, just once, she'd gone to the zoo and the monkeys had all been insane, screaming and jumping around, baring huge teeth at her through what appeared to be smiles. It had been a horrible day, not as bad as this one, but she'd vowed never to go to a zoo again.
    MaryAnn squared her shoulders and elevated her chin a notch. "Do you have an explanation for why these creatures aren't behaving normally?"
    "I thought I did," Riordan admitted. "I believed a vampire might be using their eyes and ears to gather information, but now I am not so certain."
    Her heart jumped when she heard the word "vampire." She'd been expecting it ever since she'd entered the dark oppression of the rain forest, but she still wasn't prepared. She longed for the normalcy of gangs hanging out on the corner. She could quell the street toughs with one look, but a herd of frogs or monkeys commanded by vampires… Was it herd? She didn't even know. She didn't belong in the animal kingdom.
    She desperately wanted to go home.
    As soon as the thought was completed, grief welled up, swamping her. More than sorrow, she felt need, a compulsion to keep moving, to hurry. She turned away from Riordan and Juliette, toward the direction the pull was strongest. She couldn't leave this terrible place until she found Manolito.
    She turned her head from side to side, not seeing anything, only thinking of him, the lines of pain and fatigue etched deep into the handsome features. His broad shoulders and thick chest. He was tall, much taller than she was, and she wasn't exactly short. Where was he?
    She could hear the high-pitched sound of bats calling to one another, and somewhere in the raging river one porpoise beckoned to another. The world seemed to narrow, or maybe her senses expanded, making her hearing far more acute, so that her brain processed every individual noise. The rustles in the leaves were insects, the flutter of wings were birds settling for the night, the monkeys overhead disturbed leaves as they kept pace. She heard the sound of voices,