Paul scooped up the dog and raced for the house. Colby
pushed down fear. Ginny was probably picking berries near the pond. Ignoring her heightened senses and the alarm skittering down her spine, Colby tore at the tack, hastily bridling the mare. Without bothering with a saddle she flung herself on its back and rode up to the house. Paul was already waiting for her. Juan stood behind him, his shirt unbuttoned and concern stamped on his face.
“What is wrong? Where’s the child?”
“I’m going to go looking for her now.” Colby reached her arm down and Paul took it, swinging up behind her. “The dog’s been drugged and I’m really worried. Get Julio and bring a couple of rifles. I can use all the help I can get.” Not wanting to wait any longer, she dug her heels into the horse’s sides, whirling it around and urging it into a dead run toward the spring.
As they topped the rise, Colby slowed the horse while she scanned the area. There was no sign of life. It was quiet, too quiet. Colby’s heart slammed against her ribs. Fear choked her. Not Ginny. Colby would not allow any harm to come to Ginny. If anything happened to her, Colby didn’t know what she would do. Fighting back a sob, she reined in, practically shoving Paul off the horse. “You look for a sign. If you see anything, anyone, you shout but stay to cover. Understand, Paul? Stay covered. If anything happens to me, go to the sheriff. Go to Ben. Don’t trust anyone else.”
“But—Colby?” White-faced, he stared up at her. “I couldn’t have done this. I couldn’t have hurt her, could I?”
“You didn’t do this,” she said. “You’re in as much danger as Ginny. Be careful, Paul, and don’t trust anyone. I wish to hell I knew what was going on.”
“What if something awful has happened to her? I don’t think . . .” He trailed off. He couldn’t face a vampire again. Not for Colby. Not for Ginny. Not for anything.
“Do what I say.” She kicked at the mare again, riding across the meadow to the far hillside, where she began casting about for a sign.
Meu amor, why are you so afraid? Your terror awakens me from even the deepest of sleeps.
Rafael’s voice was a soothing caress in her mind. She nearly went to pieces the moment he
touched her mind with his. She actually felt his hand brush her face and realized she was crying.
It’s Ginny. The dog was drugged and she went alone for a walk. It should have been safe. The vampire is locked in the ground, isn’t he?
She needed the reassurance.
He is in the ground but he can use puppets. Where is Paul?
He asked it carefully, knowing how she would react.
It wasn’t Paul. If it had been Paul I wouldn’t be so worried
—
I know he’d fight against it. But I can feel that something is wrong, Rafael.
I will come to you.
No!
Colby’s gaze was riveted to the ground, looking for signs.
You’re badly wounded and I can’t take care of anyone else right now. Stay where you are and let me find her.
I’m coming to you and the little one.
His tone was implacable.
Paul checked the spring first. If Ginny had come this far she would have been thirsty. The first thing they always did when they were out walking was go to the spring for a drink. There was no print of Ginny’s small boot in the wet ground, but his heart nearly stopped when he saw the clear outline of a man’s boot. A good two sizes larger than his own foot, Paul knew neither Colby nor he had made that track. It might be from one of his uncles, but they wore a distinctive boot with a different tread and neither had such a big foot. Alarmed, he scanned the ground for anything that would give him a clue as to which way the man had gone.
A few minutes of scouting around and he found a faint trail. Not much, a partial track, a twisted leaf, a snapped twig; once he found a cigarette butt. Suddenly he dropped to his knees beside the imprints in the dirt, a low cry of alarm escaping. His hand reached of its own accord to touch the small boot print. It was definitely Ginny’s track; he would recognize it anywhere. The larger boot had covered hers. For just a minute indecision warred in him—he wanted to yell for Colby, but feared whoever had taken Ginny would hear him and hurt her. The tracks were fresh. He began to follow the tracks, staying low, keeping to cover, careful not to disturb the
dirt and send dust into the air. He hoped his uncles or Colby would come after him soon.
Rafael burst from the ground. He gave a guttural cry as shafts of sunlight raked across his skin like knives. He shapes-shifted immediately to protect his sensitive eyes and body from the burning sun. The wrenching of muscles and bones reopened his wounds so that droplets of blood sprayed across the sky and settled on the ground. He chose the form of vapor so he wouldn’t have to continue to protect his eyes. Holding the form in his weakened state was precarious and left him with little energy to provide cloud cover. Nicolas had found rich soil deep in the mountains, but far from the ranch, and had put Rafael to ground there, in the hopes that the rich minerals would heal him faster. It had been a perfect healing ground, but it meant traveling a distance with his body already drained of strength. Using his tremendous iron will, Rafael pushed aside the clawing pain and streaked across the sky toward Colby, leaving behind a trail of red mist.
Colby dismounted, dropping the reins so the mare wouldn’t move far while she studied the ground with a puzzled gaze. There was something wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Squatting down, she ran her hand over the dry earth as if that would give her a clue. She made herself take several deep, calming breaths. Hysteria would not help at this point. She had to believe Ginny was off playing somewhere completely oblivious to their concern. She quartered the ground carefully, frowning as she discovered a clean break in a tiny twig of a small bush. She touched it with her fingertip. Ginny’s height. She would have brushed it running by. But where were the tracks? A bruised leaf a few feet away convinced her Ginny had come this way. She shook her head. This was crazy, there should have been more. Where was the trail? It was too elusive, as if Ginny had flown, and only touched down lightly in obscure spots, like a small wraith. She shuddered, clamping down on her imagination and the terror that threatened to consume her any moment.
I am on my way. I do not see why your fear is growing when you see that she has passed that way.
Rafael was calm and rock steady. She latched on to his strength as an anchor.
Tracks aren’t made like this, Rafael. I see her boot tracks in the dirt, and farther on, a rock kicked over. There would be more obvious signs of her passing.
She tried to convey to him what she meant, showing him memories of tracking animals.
Where are Juan and Julio? All of you should be armed and you should stay together.
His voice hadn’t changed, but she sensed his uneasiness.
They’re on the way.
She hoped it was true.
“Colby!” It was a cry, a plea, a small child seeking adult reassurance. She hadn’t heard Paul use that voice since he was about six years old. She leapt to her feet and spun around to spot Paul. He staggered toward her, his face a pale, twisted mask of anguish. He dropped to one knee, burying his face in his hands.
Colby’s mind went mercifully blank as she covered the distance between them in a flat run, flinging herself down beside him, drawing the lean, trembling body against her protectively. “Tell me, Paulo.” Incredibly gentle, her voice still held a wealth of authority.
She felt Rafael go still, felt him wrap his arms around her to give her strength.
“The tracks, hers and his. I followed them. There’s—there’s a—a . . .” He broke off, sobbing wildly, tears coursing down his cheeks. He buried his face again in his hands, refusing to look at her.
Colby gripped his shoulders, shook him hard twice. “Tell me!” Fear was choking her, making it impossible to breathe. “Paul! For God’s sake, did you find Ginny?”
Paul lifted his face, staring at her with haunted eyes. Colby held her breath. Rafael held his breath.
“Paul.” Colby touched the tears on his face. “What is it?”
“A grave!” Paul shouted. “I found a grave.”
There was a sudden silence. Shocked, Colby was completely still for a minute, the thudding of her heart slamming in her ears and a scream tearing up from her heart. “I won’t believe it,” she said, shoving him away, stumbling to her feet.
Wait for me.
Rafael redoubled his efforts for speed in spite
of his injuries. She was nearly hysterical. He should have taken the children’s blood so he could know where they were at any given time. The thought of that small child hurt, perhaps dead, struck at his heart and soul until he wanted to echo Colby’s silent scream.
Colby took off running in the direction Paul had come from. She saw the large boot prints where a heavy man had overtaken Ginny, the broken, bruised bushes where she’d struggled, the deeper imprint of the man’s tracks as he’d carried her. The tracks twisted back into the shelter of a dead-end canyon. Off to the left, in between two large boulders, was a small mound, fresh earth piled up and more scattered around, small rocks placed carefully on top to prevent animals from digging it up.
Rafael. Rafael. Oh, God I think she’s dead.
Colby ran forward, screaming a denial, hurling the rocks away in a terrible fury, tearing at the earth with bare hands.
Do not do this yourself. I am so close, meu amor. Let me do it for you.
She didn’t stop, couldn’t stop until her fingers touched something solid. She stopped breathing, stopped thinking, her mind nearly numb. She became aware of everything then, the tears on her face, the dirt on her clothes, the material in her hands. Burlap. Reluctantly she pushed the remainder of the dirt away to uncover the sack.
I can’t breathe, Rafael, I can’t breathe.
She was going to be sick.
“No, you are not.” She hadn’t even heard Rafael arrive. He was simply there beside her, a hand on her shoulder, his breath warm and reassuring against the nape of her neck. “Look closely at the bag, Colby.”
She could barely see through her tears. Then she was sobbing aloud, wildly, uncontrollably, gratefully, joyously. “It’s a hundred-pound sack of oats. Not Ginny. Oats.” She turned around into the haven of his arms, buried her face against his chest, and cried with sheer relief.
“She’s alive,” Rafael said. “I scanned the area and there is something evil here, but she is alive. I feel her presence.”
“Not Paul,” she whispered, clutching at his shirt.
“Not Paul,
querida,
” he confirmed, his hands gentle as he helped her to her feet.
Colby turned to look at Paul. He was several yards away, clutching a tree for support, his face buried on his arm. “It’s not Ginny,” she called. “It isn’t her, Paul. It’s a hoax. Thank God, it’s a hoax.”
Paul lifted his head, staring at her as if she was crazy, then he ran forward on trembling legs, stumbling over the uneven ground to see for himself. They clung together laughing hysterically, their relief so great they were a little crazy for a few moments.
Colby sobered first, reaching again for Rafael. It was only then that she really looked at him. His face was ravaged and raw from the deep claws of the vampire’s mutated creatures. His shirt hung about him in dirty shreds, the skin of his chest angry and lacerated. Blood stained his shirt and seeped from his wounds. His eyes were red and swollen even in the early morning light, a testimony to his loss of strength.
He stood tall and straight and so torn up her tears began all over again. “Rafael, you shouldn’t have come.” He was so wounded, his great strength utterly diminished, yet still he had come to her aid. She bit her lip, wanting to touch him, wanting to hold him close and soothe the worst of his pain. “You don’t even have dark glasses.”
“And where are yours?” He took her hand, his thumb moving over her skin as if checking for burns or blisters.
“I don’t know, I forgot them. I still have to find Ginny. I should have known. It was right there in front of me, but I was so frightened. That’s what they were counting on. I’d be so scared I’d believe the obvious.” She touched his face gently. “Rafael, you have to go back. There’s Julio and Juan. I’m not alone now.” She couldn’t help herself, she wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him, careful of his wounds. “Thank you for wanting to be here for me.”
“You
must
go to rest, Don Rafael,” Juan said, dismounting. He took in the tracks, the opened grave and sack of oats. Rafael stood very close to Colby, a purely protective gesture. “Have you found young Ginny?”
Paul flung himself into Juan’s arms. “I didn’t do this. I know I didn’t do this.”
Rafael quieted him with a touch. “No, Paul, you didn’t do this. There is a puppet at work here, a very evil being. I will not
leave until the child is found. She is somewhere in that direction.” He pointed back toward the area where Colby had been casting around for sign. “Juan, you and Julio get to higher ground and use the scopes. Make it look as if you’re heading out of the area to check the cattle.”
“You think someone is watching us,” Paul said. “I don’t understand this. Ginny’s still missing; he must have her with him.”
Rafael nodded. “I do not think they are together. Ginny would fight to give his position away. I think the two of you were lured out here deliberately.”
Paul met the red-rimmed eyes. “You think they want to hurt Colby. Can the vampire use me to hurt either of my sisters?”
“Paul,” Colby objected.
Rafael put a restraining hand on the small of her back. “During daylight hours the vampire cannot give you any orders. He can program you ahead of time, but cannot continue to do so during the day. Nicolas is watching over you. I will not allow anything to happen to any of you.”
Paul squared his shoulders. “What do you want me to do? If this man has Ginny, we have to get her back.”
Colby shook her head firmly. “No, she went off in the other direction. Somehow he lured her over there, I’m not sure how, but we’ll find her over that way. He erased her tracks and did a darned good job of it too.”