Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

ranks.”

    Dominic cleared his throat. “One small detail, Demyan.” He waited until the master vampire turned to face him. “His blood belongs to me, and I have never believed in sharing.” He smiled and there was a clear challenge in his smile.

    Solange pushed herself to her hands and knees and took a careful look around. She inhaled the scent of the two jaguar-men. She wanted to remember them, to be able to know them anywhere, know the men responsible for taking the light from her beloved cousin’s eyes.

    Mustering as much strength as she could, she crawled along the trunk to the bank and let herself fall onto the ground, into the mud and grass. Giant root cages made a bizarre-looking jungle, dark and mysterious, where creatures could watch her with fear-filled—or hungry—eyes. She got to her feet and fell twice, so she dragged herself into deeper forest. She could shift, but she had so many injuries, she doubted if the jaguar would be better off than the human was.

    She used a hanging liana to pull herself up again and, stumbling, took off in the direction of five small limestone caves. They each appeared to be small single chambers, but she had discovered years earlier, in one of them, an entrance that led to the honeycomb of caverns much deeper beneath the earth. More than once, she’d retreated to them when she needed to heal wounds and be safe. It never occurred to her to go to her cousins, or to anyone else. She was wounded and vulnerable. She would never take the chance of leading an enemy to her family’s door. It simply wasn’t in her code.

    She wrapped her arms around her middle and continued her journey. It was dangerous moving through the rain forest at night, bleeding from a half dozen wounds, but she didn’t dare try to examine her body. She burned with every jarring step, and she knew from past experience the damage claws and teeth could do, but as a rule she healed fast. Brodrick could have killed her, but he hadn’t. He’d been angry, but he wanted her royal blood and ability to shift. He was depraved enough to think she might give him a royal son.

    She pushed her hand through her matted, stringy hair. She often chopped it off when it got out of control.
    Her hair was thick, as it was with most jaguar-people, and it grew fast. The more she cut it off, the faster it seemed to grow. The color was dark sable, much like her jaguar fur, with a few golden streaks. If there was any one feature that might be considered beautiful on her, it would have been her hair. Not so much now.

    Her cat’s eyes allowed her to see in the dark as she made her way through the trees and brush, the forest of giant ferns and the tangle of roots snaking across the ground. She simply put one foot in front of the other.
    She had been here before, wounded, weary, heartsick, and she would be again. Sometimes, like tonight, there was no win for anyone. Annabelle had died; she wouldn’t be going home to her husband. Annabelle probably hadn’t even known why the men had kidnapped her from her home in France.

    Solange closed her eyes briefly and then snapped them open, taking a deep breath, aware of the silence of the insects. The hum was continual as a rule, a background noise that never ceased, yet this part of the forest was abnormally still. Something dangerous lurked here. Something unnatural. This was no jaguar.
    No predator that walked the night familiar to the rain forest inhabitants. The danger had to be the undead.

    She melted into the trees, her body close to the trunk. Drawing on her jaguar, she tested the night. Her heart began to pound. Not one but several, just ahead. She felt the familiar and very strange reaction in her veins.
    Adrenaline coursed through her body. She turned to slip away and caught a familiar scent.

    De La Cruz.

    She would recognize that scent anywhere. Juliette wore it all over her, as did MaryAnn. She swore under her breath. She was exhausted, but he was family and family was sacred. She tried to clear her brain and think straight. Right now she was fuzzy, off balance, and she couldn’t go into battle with vampires without a plan or a clear head. Somewhere close she had a cache, but . . . She turned in each direction, trying to throw off the exhaustion in preparation for battle.

    Vampires were difficult to kill. She could rip out their hearts as a jaguar, but she couldn’t incinerate them.
    The undead called for special weapons. Riordan and Manolito had worked with