Dark Peril Page 0,84
and with a vampire, he was the acknowledged master. She was too intelligent and too experienced not to recognize that. Had she not interfered, he would have already had the undead's heart. It was a lesson and she learned fast. He respected the fact that she didn't beat herself up for mistakes. She simply did what had to be done.
The female jaguar began her circle, her green eyes glowing as she fixed on her prey. Head down, ears rotated backward, indicating aggression without fear, she began a slow stalk, never taking her eyes from her prey.
The humans stepped back, loathing in their eyes as they watched the jaguar circle the vampire, rifles at the ready. The only thing holding them back from firing was the will of their Chefe or Jefe, depending on which language they were thinking in. They detested both species. For too long they had endured the jaguar-men abusing their women. They had to guard the women carefully at all times, curtailing their freedom near the forest. The vampire was an ever-present threat that hung over their heads and threatened their boss as well as their families. Well versed in the ways to kill a vampire, each of them was armed with a stake, a torch and a cross as well as their rifles.
Zacarias didn't dare move away from them, knowing it was only his presence that prevented them from shooting the cat, and that if they did, Dominic would slaughter everyone in sight. The Dragonseeker was in motion, a thing of beauty, his body fluid and graceful, so fast he was a blur, slamming hard into Etienne even as the jaguar jumped back out of reach.
Etienne shrieked, a bizarre animalistic sound that startled the sleeping cattle in the distance. The herd came to its feet, mooing and stomping restlessly. Cesaro jerked his hand back, gesturing toward the rolling hills, and his men took off at a run. Others poured from homes scattered around the hills, leaping on horses, racing to calm the frightened cattle.
The vampire spun, moving fast like a twister, whirling and spinning, trying to use his feet like a drill bit, digging into the earth, hoping to escape the relentless hunter. Dominic spun with him, lost to sight in the debris, drawn into the tornado reaching from earth to sky. He flowed with the turbulent winds, implacable in his resolve to destroy the undead.
The air began to charge. The hair on their arms stood up. Zacarias called a warning to Solange as he took Cesaro to the ground, covering his body with his own. Solange leapt away from the charging air and nearly landed in a fountain. She flattened herself as close to the ground as possible just as lightning struck, the bolt going from earth to sky and back to earth again. Etienne shrieked hideously. The smell of decomposed, rotting flesh turned to smoke, permeating the air with a foul stench.
Zacarias could only smell the blood around him as he lay over the top of his foreman. The scent was everywhere, heavy in his lungs. His fangs refused to retract. The sound of hearts beating became a drum of desire pounding through his skull. Warm flesh beckoned, the lure of hot blood strong, the pulse right beneath his mouth. So close. So tempting. The whisper was insidious in his ear . Just this once.
His mouth nearly touched that strumming pulse. His ears filled with the sound, the ebb and flow of the life force in Cesaro's body. His mind refused to work, flooded now with need. Just this once. He could smell the delicious fear. The adrenaline racing through veins. He moved his head back, his sight narrowed to that temptation.
The jaguar hit him full force, knocking him off Cesaro's body. He rolled and came up on his feet, his mind a red haze of need and anger. Ruby-red eyes fixed on Solange, furious that she had stolen his prey. She prowled back and forth between Zacarias and Cesaro, keeping him from the hot, spicy blood his body needed so desperately. He hissed his anger, the two predators locked in a stare, each waiting for the other to attack.
Cesaro moved slowly, carefully, trying not to draw the attention of the large cat. His fingers inched their way to his rifle and, increment by increment, drew it to him. Don Zacarias needed and he provided, just as his family had done century after century. If it was his blood Zacarias needed, Cesaro would give