Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

down beside her and they held hands, the folds of Marguarita’s skirt hiding that small act of camaraderie.
    “What will happen when they don’t find anything,” Lea whispered fearfully.
    Marguarita shrugged a little helplessly. She tasted dread in her mouth. She would have to act to save Zacarias. She would never give him up. She hadn’t betrayed him to the vampire and she wouldn’t to such a foul creature as DS.
    Both men began to shovel dirt as fast as they could. The soil was rather loose on the top and easy at first, but as they went deeper it became more difficult, packed tight, hard, almost like cement.
    “Do you see, Esteban? This is his resting place or it wouldn’t be like this.” Excitement permeated DS’s voice.
    “It’s damned difficult,” Esteban complained.
    “Just keep digging.”
    Marguarita had never known any of their soil to be so hard and she could only surmise that Zacarias had used his energy to change the composition.
    Don’t. You’ll need your strength just in case I fail, she reprimanded.
    I am of the earth and Mother Earth protects her own as best she can.
    The cryptic reply didn’t help her anxiety very much. An hour and a half crept by. Both men had long ago shed their shirts, sweating and swearing. The earth yawned open like a beckoning monster, the gaping hole a good six feet in depth.
    DS wiped the sweat from his face and glared at Marguarita, his face once again a mask of fury. “You lied to me.”
    Esteban screamed, the sound high-pitched and frightened. He pointed toward the hole, backing away.

17
    R ats. Little rats digging in the earth. Deep beneath the rich soil, Zacarias could hear the two men sinking their shovels into the ground. Scraping. Slicing. Ripping apart the dirt, digging like the rats they were. The sound echoed through the layers of soil, spreading like a disease, that endless ripping and tearing. Mother Earth shuddered at the vicious attack and he felt her reaching for him, surrounding him with safe arms.
    His body was leaden, but his mind raced, trying to figure out a way to overcome the curse of his species. Never in his life had he felt so completely helpless. So frustrated. He had always accepted the weakness that was the price for great strength and power. The night belonged to his kind and the day belonged to humans. That was the way of his world and it was as much a part of him as living on blood.
    All those centuries and he had never once railed against that law, but he had been the only one at risk. Just him. His life had been one of duty and acceptance. Had they found him before, it would have mattered little. But this was not about him. This was different. Everything was different.
    His woman—his lifemate—was in danger and he could do absolutely nothing. He had no control over the situation. No control over Marguarita. No ability to destroy the men who threatened her. He was forced to lie helpless while she suffered and that was much more difficult to bear than if someone had hammered a stake through his own heart.
    DS had put his hands on her—a crime punishable by death—and yet he’d even done worse. He had struck her. Zacarias felt every blow landing on her soft body. He allowed himself to feel, to absorb the pain she experienced. The pounding seemed a lifetime, blows raining down on her face, her breasts, and then her ribs. The kicks struck her hips and legs and arms. The breath had left her lungs in an explosive burst, leaving a desperate burning for air.
    Fury swept through him. A rage deeper than anything he’d ever known. He’d forbidden her to place herself in such danger and yet she had disobeyed him. She had deliberately led his enemies away from his resting place. They had been digging for a long while and he could tell by the slowing of the shovels that their belief was beginning to wane. They would turn their anger on Marguarita and he would be unable to stop them.
    Summoning every ounce of strength he possessed, he sent his will rising through the earth.

    “Where the hell is he?” DS demanded, throwing down his shovel in disgust. He glared at Marguarita. “You’d better tell me or, I swear, I’ll bury you alive down here.”
    She slowly got to her feet and scribbled on her notepad. I told you he never stays long. This is the only place I know that he goes.
    DS slapped the paper from Marguarita’s hand, wrenched her around and dragged her toward the open grave.
    Marguarita flung herself away from the