Carpathian 22 - Dark Predator

I can remove the immediate danger to her.”
    Julio shook his head. “You can’t just come here and decide that Marguarita is your woman. She may work for you, but she has rights. What does she say about this?”
    “Julio,” Cesaro hissed in warning.
    “She has no say in the matter,” Zacarias said, pitching his voice low—a velvet warning. “In our world, the man claims his woman and she is bound to him. There is no going back for either of them.”
    “It’s a mistake.”
    “It is impossible to make a mistake,” Zacarias said. “She is mine.”
    “You don’t sound happy about it, señor ,” Cesaro said quickly, interrupting his son before Julio could speak. “Perhaps in this instance, something could be done to free her. Surely you don’t want to be saddled with a human woman—one that can’t speak.”
    There was a short silence while Zacarias turned the idea over and over in his mind. All along, he had been thinking that exact thought—he didn’t want to be saddled with a human woman—any woman—but especially one who didn’t know the first thing about obedience. He had considered walking away from her, just leaving her without a word. He’d thought to stay a few days just to see color and feel just a little before ending his days. Hearing Cesaro give voice to his own thoughts changed everything.
    He felt his gut tighten, his body react physically to the thought of losing her. His mouth went dry, something viselike squeezed his heart hard in his chest. Everything he was rebelled against the idea of breaking the ties between them. Marguarita was his woman. He wasn’t about to find a way to be free of her. He didn’t believe there was a way, but even so, she belonged to him and he would never give her up willingly. Not to the humans, not to the vampires and certainly not to another man.
    So there it was. He had a lifemate, as crazy as the woman was, she belonged to him and he was keeping her. He flashed his teeth at Cesaro, allowing a flare of absolute predator to show in his eyes as a warning.
    “I will not give her up. There is no discussion. If you both care for her as you say you do, this will stay between us. No one else can know, not even other members of your family. It is the only way to keep her safe.”
    “Is she a prisoner?” Julio dared to ask.
    Zacarias touched his mind. The man’s barrier was intact, but Zacarias had taken his blood and pushed harder to gain entry. Julio pressed his fingers to his temples, shaking his head.
    “Just tell me what you want to know.”
    Zacarias was already getting the impressions he needed. Julio did love Marguarita as a sister. It was a relief to know he wouldn’t have to kill Cesaro’s son. “Who is this man you do not like that keeps coming around to visit Marguarita?”
    Julio looked startled. “Was I thinking about him?”
    “You do not like the idea of Marguarita being my lifemate, but you like the idea of her being with this strange man even less,” Zacarias said. “Tell me about him.”
    They were approaching the vine and Zacarias waved both men to a halt, not wanting them too close to the treacherous sap. “Just in the time I have spent with you, the vines have been busy.”
    “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Cesaro said. “The plant looks alive, eating everything in its path.”
    Zacarias nodded. “The vampire bends everything to his evil purpose. He knows I am in residence and he will be nipping at my heels in the hopes of weakening me before he shows himself. Do not try to kill this plant yourselves. If anyone spots it, let me know immediately.”
    Both men stepped well back when Zacarias waved them away from the destructive vines. Above their heads, clouds gathered, churned and boiled, silver veins flickered inside the turbulent patches. Lightning leaped along the ground, forks of white-hot energy traced the path of the thick vines, incinerating the wood, leaves and thick sap everywhere it touched. A foul smell much like rotting eggs permeated the air.
    “Do not breathe it in,” Zacarias cautioned.
    The trail of burning ash grew long and wide, racing over the ground and under it, following the path of the vines back to the original source—the edge of the rain forest. It was clear, seeing the blackened ash, the vine had been traveling toward the hacienda, searching for Zacarias’s resting place.
    “Tell me about this man you do not like, the one you believe is courting my woman,” Zacarias commanded as