Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

signaled the two waiting men.
    Jubal arrived a stride or two ahead of Gary. Dax saw Gary’s face. He knew exactly
     what he was going to see. There’d been too many of these times, humans ripped apart
     by a vampire.
    “Mitro’s a bastard,” Jubal stated.
    “She was jaguar,” Dax said. “And pregnant with a jaguar baby. The baby is over there.”
     He indicated the infant with his chin. “A boy.”
    “He killed the baby in front of her, didn’t he?” Jubal asked grimly.
    Gary took off his shirt and wrapped the baby’s body carefully in it. “He took the
     baby while she was still alive, drained the baby dry and then attacked her. He likes
     to play with his victims. Jaguars need to be burned. They never leave bodies where
     others can examine them.”
    “Let’s get it done before the helicopter comes for us,” Dax said grimly. He glanced
     over to Riley. “There’s no need for her to see this. It will be bad enough telling
     her about it.”

17
    T he Old One was agitated, and it didn’t do to have an extremely large dragon upset
     in a large city—or anywhere, for that matter. Dax paced up and down the terrace overlooking
     the lights of the city. The De La Cruz family owned an enormous estate on the outskirts
     of Rio de Janeiro. Apparently, they owned homes in nearly every major city throughout
     South America. They seemed to have adapted well to living among the human species.
    Just as Dax had evolved there in the volcano, the De La Cruz family had evolved as
     well—yet he wasn’t comfortable with their modern transformation. He didn’t believe
     it. They were hunters, every one of them, wolves in sheep’s clothing. For all their
     modern look, and the charm the De La Cruz brothers exuded, he knew what they were
     deep down under all that sophistication—predators, every one of them.
    “What’s wrong?”
    Riley’s soft voice brought him up short. He turned to look at her. She sat in one
     of the deep chairs, chin on her drawn-up knees, watching him with her dark, cool eyes.
     There was genuine concern in her voice—in those liquid eyes. He’d never had anyone
     concerned over him before other than Arabejila, and certainly not like this, not that
     he could remember, not that he could feel. It was a strange—and wonderful—feeling.
    “I’m concerned about being here in this dwelling.”
    “House,” she corrected as promised. “Why?”
    He paced the long length of the terrace restlessly. Riley was his lifemate and she’d
     asked a question requiring an answer. He sighed and came to a halt in front of her.
     “I should have executed Mitro centuries ago, long before he went on his crime spree.
     I knew the darkness grew in him. I was born with a curse, although Arabejila’s father
     told me it was a gift of tremendous value. I knew better. Even as a young boy I saw
     the mark on many of my friends. As we grew, I became uneasy around them and they were
     much more uneasy around me. No one wants to be marked as damned.”
    “Did you do that?”
    He shrugged. “I tried not to, but I saw that shadow in them very early and I couldn’t
     help but watch them. I made everyone uneasy. At first the elders didn’t believe me,
     but when my predictions came true, they started paying attention. The moment that
     happened . . .” He trailed off, turning his back on her to grip the railing with both
     hands, staring out into the night.
    Riley bit her lip. That little boy had to be somewhat of an outcast. The other boys
     and men in his village would have shunned him, kept their distance just in case he
     discovered that shadow in them and called them a potential vampire. She could feel
     the stark loneliness in him. As a man—a hunter—he didn’t seem to be aware of it. He
     didn’t recognize his own emotions let alone acknowledge them; he’d been too long without.
    “The thing is, just because I saw the shadow didn’t mean they chose to give up their
     soul. Some found lifemates eventually and lived honorable lives.”
    Riley held herself very still, refusing to give in to the urge to comfort him. Dax
     had no idea he needed comfort and he would shut down. She reached tentatively for
     their mind connection, not wanting him to pull away from her. Empathically she felt
     his childhood pain, but she wanted to “see” his memories through his eyes. The moment
     she reached for him, she felt not only Dax, but the Old One. The dragon was just as
     concerned for the Carpathian