The Tracker's Rage (Mate Tracker #3) - Ingrid Seymour Page 0,72

steps and placed him in front of Bernadetta.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled at the petite vampiress.

He was a head taller than Bernadetta, but her powerful aura made her seem greater than life.

“Worry not,” she smirked. “I won’t lay a finger on you. I avoid touching your kind like the plague. I hate the stench.” She turned, picked up the dagger from the altar, and stuck it inside the vessel. “One drop will do,” she said in a musical tone as she pulled the dagger back out. The silver blade was covered with a sheen of blood. She held it steady for a bit as droplets of her blood splashed back into the jade cup.

Grinning with satisfaction, a glint in her eyes, she faced the werewolf and gestured toward the red-clad vamp. “Open his mouth, Danika.”

The werewolf struggled, shaking his head, trying to get free, but Danika forced him to his knees, and, with one hand, squeezed his face until his lips parted open.

“Stop!” I cried out, but no one paid me any mind.

Bernadetta tiptoed closer, holding the dagger in front of her, inching it closer toward the werewolf’s mouth. He screamed, hopelessly fighting against the arms that held him in place, his legs thrashing as the rest of his body was kept in place.

The blade hovered over the werewolf’s lips. A drop of blood quivered at the tip of the blade. The werewolf’s face disfigured in terror.

I fought against Stephen. “Let him go, you psychopaths. Stephen, don’t do this. If you do this, there’s no coming back from it.”

The drop of blood fell. For a second, it seemed to hover frozen in midair. I thought of a miracle that might stop it, but the drop plunged into the man’s opened mouth, sizzling on contact. The hands that held him released him.

The man dropped to all fours, sputtering and spitting. Bernadetta took a couple of steps back, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him with curiosity.

He slowly rose to his feet and glanced around, chest heaving, hatred burning in his gaze.

“You’ll pay for this.” He reached for Bernadetta, wrapping his hands around her neck.

She didn’t even flinch. Danika made as if to pull the man back, but the Dark Donna waved her back. In the next instant, the man began trembling all over. He tried to hold onto the vamp, but he fell to the floor and flopped like a fish out of water. He clawed at his throat, screaming and arching his back to the breaking point. A blue light shone under his skin, descending from his throat to the rest of his body and also climbing to the top of his head.

“Fascinating,” Bernadetta observed as the man continued to thrash, crying out in agony.

I wanted to turn away, to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see his suffering, so I wouldn’t have to witness what would happen to me next, but I was transfixed.

Suddenly, the man went utterly still, his cries turning into soft moans. At last, he went silent. Was he dead?

Maybe something had gone wrong, or I should say... something had gone terribly right? Because I would rather die than become the Dark Donna’s mind slave.

Bernadetta exchanged a glance with Stephen. It seemed she also thought something had gone wrong. She opened her mouth to say something when the man twitched and sat up straight with a jolt.

The Dark Donna made an approving sound in the back of her throat. “Stand,” she ordered.

The man rose to his feet and faced her, looking like a soldier ready for his next command.

“Act like a monkey,” she ordered.

The man placed one hand on top of his head and the other on his butt and started scratching both places simultaneously while he walked around with bent knees saying, “Ooh, ooh, ooh, ah, ah.”

Bernadetta laughed and her vampires laughed with her, looking delighted.

“This is easier than compulsion,” she said. “Totally effortless.”

“Ooh, ooh, ooh, ah, ah.” The man seemed to be getting carried away and started bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and beating his chest.

“Enough,” the vamp said.

He stopped, straightened his back, and waited for his next command.

“Stand aside and wait.”

The man retreated, bowing his head respectfully and standing with his hands behind his back.

Bernadetta turned to Stephen. “She’s next.”

I dug my heels in. “No, please don’t let her do that to me.”

This couldn’t be happening. Stephen pushed me forward.

“No!” I cried out. “Please. I’ll be on your side, Stephen.” I would say