Carpathian 21 - Dark Peril

eyes shifted from his. She was still uncomfortable around him in any other guise than that of a warrior. He didn’t speak, allowing the silence to stretch between them. He was proud of her, yet he was troubled. Upset. His stomach muscles had knotted tight. He had the urge to shake her, or fold her close and hold on so tight she couldn’t breathe. He felt as if he were coming down from an adrenaline high that left him edgy and out of sorts—conditions he was unfamiliar with.

    Dominic swept Solange behind him, uncaring that she might be upset that he was protecting her, but he was done with her putting her body in harm’s way. Zacarias had taken enough blood that she was feeling weak, and because of the parasites, he couldn’t even provide for her. She’d stumbled twice and tried to cover it, but he couldn’t fail to notice. He knocked politely on the open door leading to the master bedroom. Below, he was certain, Zacarias had a lair, but he wouldn’t be using it, wouldn’t risk his close proximity to his people, not with his strength waning. He would never knowingly endanger them.

    “Zacarias wanted me to see if I could help,” Dominic greeted as Cesaro spun around. The man looked disheveled. His face was twisted with grief.

    “I don’t know what you can do for her,” he replied, stepping away from the bed to give Dominic room.
    “She’s alive, but her throat . . .” He trailed off.

    Dominic took his place, noting that rather than rushing to the young woman’s side, Solange went to the windows, moving like a silent shadow through the room, checking the outside.

    “Her father is dead. Out in the courtyard. She has no mother. No other family.”

    “She has Zacarias and his brothers, and she has you,” Dominic said. “Zacarias wants everything possible to be done, and for this home to be considered her home.”

    Cesaro nodded. “He is like that. Always he looks after us.”

    “What’s her name?” Dominic asked. He needed a moment to breathe his way through the sight of the young woman, so small and helpless, barely making a ripple in the large comforter, torn as she was, her dark, thick braid bloody and her face nearly gray. The reminder of the destruction a vampire could cause in seconds only added to his resolve to curb Solange’s courage just a little—enough that he could live with.

    “Marguarita,” Cesaro answered. He wiped his hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell the others.”

    Dominic leaned over the young woman. Her breath was barely moving through her lungs. Have him leave the room, Solange.

    Solange didn’t hesitate. “We need you to patrol the grounds with your men. If you need to remove her father’s body from the courtyard, do so, but there could be another attack. They were after Zacarias. He’s a huge threat to them.”

    She said the right thing. Cesaro hurried to guard his boss’s estate and left the dying woman to them.
    Dominic trusted Solange to watch over his vulnerable body while he went outside himself and sent his energy into Marguarita.

    At once he could see that Zacarias had worked a miracle in the short time he had. The Carpathian had awoken ravenous, but he’d still given his blood and what energy he had to try to save one of those loyal to him. Had he known she’d been attacked because she refused to give up his resting place? Her mind had been protected and the vampire had been unable to break through the safeguards Zacarias had woven for each of those working for him.

    The Carpathian blood rushed to every cell, trying to repair the terrible damage. Her vocal cords were nearly destroyed. Dominic took up the repairs where Zacarias had left off, striving to make certain she could both breathe and swallow properly. The torn muscles were reattached. Thankfully Zacarias had given her the blood she needed. Dominic couldn’t supply her, and there was no way of knowing if Solange’s blood was compatible. He did the best he could, realizing that he hadn’t fed when he came back to his body weak and swaying.

    “You’ve been working a long time,” Solange said, holding out her wrist. “You need . . .”

    “Do not!” He held up his hand. “I think I have had enough of your sacrifices to last a lifetime. I will hunt while you watch over her.”

    Solange winced, but she dropped her wrist to her side without protest. Her face flushed and she averted her face.

    His words were sharper than he intended, the need for