Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

her, perfecting her skills, and, she had to admit, coming up with specialized weapons for her to give her a little edge, which was needed. They were monstrous creatures.

    She made her way a few yards to the north, jogging, ignoring the pain in her body now. Nothing mattered but to give aid to whichever brother was in trouble. She found her cache just off the trail leading to the first limestone cave. She never cached inside a cave, aware that vampires and Carpathians went underground to rest. She pulled out the weapons she needed, chewed several leaves that would help numb the burning pain in her body but not fog her mind, and jogged back toward the battleground.

    She came in downwind, drawing on her jaguar’s strength when she feared she couldn’t keep going. When her legs felt too rubbery to support her, she went to her belly and slithered through the vegetation, ignoring the swarm of insects drawn by her wounds. Using toes and elbows, she inched closer to the group of men gathered under the trees.

    She could hear the moan of the trees and the wail of the grass as the undead trampled ferns and brush,

    withered flowers and leaves, poisoning everything they touched. The De La Cruz brother was easily recognizable. They all had that impressive stamp of absolute authority, the broad shoulders and handsome face. This had to be the elusive Zacarias, the eldest of the five brothers. She’d once caught a glimpse of Nicolas, and she knew Riordan, Rafael and Manolito. Zacarias looked calm and confident and not in the least bit concerned that he was surrounded by vampires.

    She gasped when the man standing in front of him turned slightly and she glimpsed him. Her Carpathian—
    the man in her dreams. He had no scars, but it was definitely the one who came to her in her worst moments. The one she’d so happily—and stupidly—spilled her guts to and cried like a whiny baby in front of. He was even more handsome in real life than he was in her imagination, which made it all the worse that she’d told him her darkest secrets.

    She let her breath out slowly, cursing herself for reacting like a woman instead of a warrior. He didn’t need a woman now; he needed her fighting skills—and that she could give him. That might be the only gift she ever had for him, but she would fight with every breath in her body to save him from the circle of rotting flesh surrounding him.

    She inched closer, and stopped abruptly when she caught the flash of the tall Carpathian’s eyes. His gaze moved over her—he knew she was there. She was certain that he did. He gave a small shake of his head, which she had every intention of ignoring. Zacarias glanced her way, and she felt the weight of his disapproval. That lightened her mood considerably. He’d always disapproved of her, and that constant in her life gave her another boost of energy. She really did find secret delight in annoying authoritative men.

    She pushed away the somewhat satisfying thoughts and drew on her last reserves of strength.

    Dominic felt the sudden shift in his blood—everything went quiet and still. The parasites had been on a rampage, trying to kill him from the inside out, but now they retreated as if from a deadly foe. Every nerve ending in his body went on alert. He scented the air, but there was no telltale fragrance. That didn’t matter.
    He knew. His lifemate was close. Too close.

    Zacarias’s head suddenly came up alertly, his dark gaze sweeping the surrounding forest before touching Dominic’s face.

    We have company.

    Power flared all around them as Demyan kept the lesser vampires under control. There was no way for them to tell the two Carpathians were communicating.

    My lifemate.

    Warn her off.

    Dominic never changed expression. He merely glanced at Zacarias, keeping his attention directed toward Demyan. You would never abandon your lifemate, Zacarias, not in a fight. You are not capable of that, nor is she.

    She is a woman.

    She is my woman and she is a warrior as is befitting my needs.

    Zacarias made a single sound that meant many things. Outrage. Disapproval. Disagreement. Solange was under his protection, but lifemates took precedence over everything else. In any case, he knew the woman by reputation. She was as stubborn as a mule.

    And what happens if they kill her? You will suicide.

    I am on a suicide mission, Dominic responded. I am already dead.

    Zacarias sighed. So be it, old friend.

    The lesser vampires swayed, their feet