Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

well.
    It’s close to dawn, Zacarias, she reminded gently.
    What I wish to show you requires the dawn.
    The night was his, what little was left of it. His world. His domain. It mattered little that for centuries it had been a hell. She was with him now. Marguarita. The flip side of hell was paradise and he would take her there, find it with her, experience it with her. Through her.
    Marguarita didn’t hesitate. She tightened her fingers in his and reminded him gently. I’m not wearing any underwear. Will I need different clothing?
    He groaned. He’d been steadily ignoring the temptation of her body. He wanted to spend time with her, give her something besides his continual hunger.
    “I will keep you warm.” His gaze drifted possessively down her body. He loved her hourglass figure, all those lush curves just for him. “You are a beautiful woman.”
    She blushed, glowed. Her smile was a bit like the moon rising and the stars joining in. He went out the door before he lost his control and they didn’t make it out of the house. She seemed to have that effect on him.
    He wrapped his arm around her waist and took to the sky. She gasped and clung. He laughed softly and buried his face in all that hair. Silken strands were everywhere. She tried to tame it by tightly holding the arm locking her to him and reaching cautiously with her other hand to bunch the mass into a thick twisting knot held to the nape of her neck.
    “You have to actually open your eyes to appreciate this,” he whispered.
    Joy burst through him. Fireworks. Vibrant colors. Speeding light zipping across the heavens. A glittering wonderland spread out below him and Marguarita was in his mind, sharing it all with him. She was more than a miracle, she was a little piece of heaven. What would it matter if he had seen this without her? It would have meant nothing at all. Now . . . his rain forest . . . his country—was everything, because she was there.
    He felt her fingers dig into his arm. He bent his head to put his mouth against her ear, although he didn’t use words. He wanted the more intimate form of communication. He felt every breath she took. Felt every beat of her heat. Show me your trust, mića emni kuηenak minan.
    Her breath hissed out, although he felt laughter, nervousness and excitement at the same time, filling his mind. You just called me a lunatic again, didn’t you?
    Well, he teased, you are flying through the air above the canopy of the rain forest with me. You have to be a bit of a lunatic to do that. I did call you beautiful though. And mine. Does that make up for it?
    She opened her eyes. Below her was every shade of green on the color spectrum, with the bright silvery light of the moon spilling over the canopy. Instead of looking up at it from the forest floor, she was looking down at it. A breathless sigh of wonder filled his mind. He dropped down fast, taking her through the branches, to show her the spectacular find he’d run across years earlier.
    Few people, if any, have ever seen this sight. I have come here once a year to see these macaws. In the early morning they flock together for their morning meeting, stirring just before dawn. I found a small cave near this spot and hollowed out a chamber, just so I could see them take flight.
    He felt the wonder of that sight from so long ago, and knew now why he had returned year after year to make certain the flock was still there. He hadn’t felt the rush back then, but he felt it now, the beauty and majesty of the large birds all roosting in the hollows of the grove of trees. There were so many, great imposing birds.
    He had always felt at home in the rain forest and had felt more of a kinship with the animals than he had with people populating the world.
    Like me, Marguarita confirmed. That’s why we connected so quickly and deeply, Zacarias, we both have a kinship with animals.
    The impression of her soft laughter teased his mind. Of course you’re more like a great jungle cat, all teeth and claws, and I’m more like the hummingbirds buzzing around the flowers.
    She looked up at him, her eyes bright with joy, with the thrill of what he was sharing with her. Deliberately he showed his teeth, baring them at her much like a wild animal. More laughter spilled into his mind. All that warm honeyed molasses poured through him, a kind of molten gold, filling the cracks and spaces and driving away more of the shadows.
    His arm tightened around her. How had he gone from being