Second tree from the left. High up in the branches. A rodent. Mitro’s using him the way the mages used familiars,
he informed Riordan.
I’ve got him now,
Riordan acknowledged, dropping his hands as if he had finished and thought his home safe.
You’ll have to come with us,
Dax whispered softly into Riley’s mind.
If you don’t, he’ll know we’re onto him.
He had to keep reminding himself she wasn’t Carpathian, but she didn’t flinch, although she didn’t attempt to hide her silent reluctance.
She took the hand he extended to her and got up, taking her time dusting off her jeans. He knew she was giving herself time to compose and steel herself for whatever was to come.
“I’m ready,” she said aloud, flashing a smile to him and then to Riordan. “Let’s go. I’ll do the shopping. Those boys are starving, and I doubt the two of you know much about grocery shopping.” She even managed a small laugh at her own joke.
He tangled his fingers with hers, amazed at her playful tone, not overly loud; in fact, he wasn’t certain the watcher could hear her, but it didn’t matter. She acted perfectly natural. He quickened his pace without seemingly doing so. Riley fell a step behind, but he appeared not to notice, leaning toward Riordan to say something in a low voice as they walked down the winding path to get to the vehicle parked in the left-side garage nearest that small grove of trees. She tucked in behind him in that way he was coming to love, her hand slipping into his back pocket as she matched his pace, using his body as a shield.
It’s tracking your lifemate,
Riordan warned.
It isn’t looking at either of us, just her.
Dax was careful not to look at the creature directly, but he’d already seen the beady eyes glowing bright through the foliage and the stare was directed solely at Riley.
Mitro believes she is someone else and he fears her. He rejected his lifemate Arabejila and he intended to kill her, but he couldn’t force himself to finish the job. She is the one person he can’t kill, so he’ll send every minion he has to do the job for him,
Dax explained.
That thing is looking at me,
Riley hissed in his mind.
She sounded scared. Her hand transferred from his back pocket to the small of his back. She bunched his shirt tightly in her fist.
It will be all right.
That’s easy enough for you to say. It isn’t looking at you.
He suppressed a smile.
Stop looking at it.
It has big teeth.
Of course it does. It is meant to kill you. I’m certain the claws are of equal size.
They were in striking distance now.
She thumped him hard on his back.
Do you think you’ll ever get the concept of watering down the danger level?
I don’t understand what that means.
He was genuinely puzzled. She was half serious, half joking, but he didn’t like the idea that he might be failing her on some level. How did one “water down”—whatever that was—
danger
? Any creature a vampire used to do his bidding was extremely dangerous, especially one that wanted to kill his lifemate.
Of course you don’t
.
There was a hint of laughter in her voice. Arabejila had a gift allowing a Carpathian male who had lost all color and emotion to feel some faint sensation, but the times he managed to feel something, the reaction had been so faint and distant, he’d never been entirely certain whether or not the sentiment had been merely a long-ago memory, or if he’d really experienced feeling. Certainly not humor. Arabejila had always had a sense of humor, but he hadn’t always understood her laughter.
Now, with Riley, humor had become fun. He liked teasing her. And he liked that she teased him. He was coming to understand humor, and hers always showed itself at unexpected times.
It’s getting ready to attack.
Dax could tell Riordan’s voice in her head startled Riley, but the only sign was the way she bunched the back of his shirt tighter in her fist and pressed her forehead against his back, making herself smaller. All the while, she stayed in step with him.
When I say, let go and crouch low.
He was in her head and heard her silent protest, but she nodded several times indicating she heard him. She was afraid. Really afraid. He was used to Arabejila, who always followed his orders without question. Like him, she didn’t fear death. Both had lost all hope of a lifemate, and knew death was now a matter of honor. Now, he had everything to live for, but fear was something he wasn’t familiar with.
I would not allow you to come to harm, Riley.
It was a simple truth. He
couldn’t
allow such a thing. She was his lifemate, his world, light to his darkness and there was no possible way he would let anything hurt her. Arabejila understood that …
If you compare me to that woman one more time, I’m going to hit you over the head with a very large object. I’m not Arabejila, and I’m not wild about the comparisons.
He swore her teeth snapped together just shy of his skin. She might have torn his shirt.
I think the dragon would be a good thing right now. Maybe you ought to call him out. He’s big and he’s got teeth, too.
She was royally angry at him, but again, he didn’t really understand why. Lifemates were much more difficult than he’d ever considered. And the dragon? She wanted the Old One to protect her? He felt a faint stirring of an emotion he couldn’t quite catch or identify.
All the while he tried to puzzle out her illogical reasoning, he kept most of his attention centered on the rodent. Small flames had begun to burn in the beady, glowing eyes. Muscles bunched as it gathered itself in wait for its prey to get close enough.
Now.
He gave the command as the watcher leapt from the branches, bursting into the open, hurtling itself through the air straight at Riley.
She dropped low, releasing his shirt as scales slipped over his skin, that hard armor protecting him, and he swung at the creature with a hammerlike fist. He connected with the long snout, smashing through razor-sharp barred teeth, and driving the fangs back down the rodent’s throat.
The rodent flew backward, right into Riordan’s hands. He caught the watcher around the neck and held tight, staring into the flame-filled eyes. Deep inside those red flames burned black hatred. Riordan only caught the briefest of glimpses in the midst of the swirling, leaping towers of fire raging inside the eyes of the beast.
He’s shadowed, Dax, you were right.
The creature snarled and ripped at Riordan.
Now, but watch for the sliver to try to save itself.
Before the shadowed rodent could sink its claws into Riordan’s skin, the hunter hurled it into the air. Dax summoned dragon fire, opened his mouth and breathed a torrent of flames to engulf the watcher, burning it fast. The smell was terrible, noxious, even poisonous. The snarling turned to a terrible scream. Riley put her hands over her ears and held her breath.
Both hunters didn’t take their eyes off the burning rodent as it fell to the ground. Shockingly, it got to its feet and staggered toward Riley. Dax sent another sweeping torrent of flames at the creature, the force so strong the watcher rolled over and over away from Riley. Burning fast, squealing, the rodent opened its mouth and coughed out a small sliver of darkness, a mere shadow. The shadow fell to the ground and began burrowing deep. Without the shadow of Mitro keeping it alive, the hapless creature burned hot and bright, turning to nothing but ash.
“Stop it, Riley,” Dax commanded the moment the sliver landed on the ground. “Don’t let it use the soil to get away. Drive it back to the surface.”
She plunged her hands into the soil without hesitation, although her fear was tangible. He didn’t need their mind bond to feel it. Her murmured chant was low but strong and firm without hesitation. Mother Earth answered her child.
At once the ground rippled, rolled and then shuddered. Dirt burst into the air, a geyser spewing high as the sliver of evil was rejected. The wind shifted away from the Carpathians. Dax and Riordan both leapt through the spray of soil, eyes trained on the single dark shadow as it was taken in the direction of the trees.
Once more Dax called the fire, inhaling deeply, drawing on the reserve in his belly, and sending the stream of flames directly into that sliver of darkness. Screams of rage and pain rent the air. Dogs howled throughout the neighborhood, the alarm spreading throughout the city. Car alarms went off. Sirens sounded. Windows shattered in some homes and businesses. The promise of retaliation—of vengeance—came as the unholy noise faded away.
Riley knelt with her hands over her ears, head down. Riordan checked to make certain both the sliver of evil and the creature were dead.
“It’s over,” Dax said, hurrying to Riley’s side. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, pulling her into the shelter of his body.
Riley leaned into him for a brief moment, taking the comfort he offered. He wrapped his arm around her, nearly crushing her to him, inhaling, drawing her deep into his lungs. Her scent wiped out the repulsive, offensive stench permeating the air around them.
“What was that?” She rested her head on his chest, betraying nerves by the nervous little strokes of one hand over his heart.
“Mitro created a watcher by putting a small sliver of himself into the creature so he could see what it did. That way he could send it where he wanted, have total command, and obtain information at very little risk to himself,” Dax explained, bringing one hand up to the nape of her neck to gently ease the tension from her.
She turned her face up to his. “You live in a very scary world. What did he hope to gain?”
“Clearly he was having someone watch either the Carpathian hunters or Jasmine.”
Over her head he could see Riordan once again weaving new safeguards around his home. This time there would be no watcher able to report back to Mitro the exact patterns of the wards, knowledge of which would have essentially given his minions free entrance into Riordan’s house. Now, it would be nearly impossible for anyone wishing harm to gain admittance.
“You believe he’s after Jasmine.” Riley made it a statement.
“Don’t you?”
Riley stepped back, her eyes meeting his. “Absolutely. He’s after her child for some reason and we’re going to have to find out why, Dax, and stop him. He’s a serial killer. You can call him anything you want, but in the end, he seems to take great pleasure in torturing and murdering innocent people. He’s ritualistic in his killings.”
“He wants others to think that, Riley. The rituals are put in place to impress his followers. He wants them to worship him and to do that, he demands his sacrifices.”
Riley sighed. “If there is a faction of young, lost Goth kids that he’s impressed, then he’s building an army, a cult, young people looking for answers and strengths, somewhere to belong when they don’t fit in. Believe me, Dax, there are so many runaways and throwaways looking for a home, and they’ll do anything for the right charismatic leader. They’re lost souls, and he’s collecting them.”
“But the killing of these jaguar women, that has nothing to do with his followers, other than they bring the women to him,” Dax said. “At least that’s my suspicion. I need you to confirm that for me and see if you can follow the trail.”
Riley nodded. “I said I would and I meant it.” She gestured toward the burnt ashes. “That changes nothing, but it was after me, wasn’t it?”
Dax nodded. “Mitro will do anything to destroy you. You have to understand, his ego, his vanity is enormous. He believes himself superior to all beings, all species. Remember the village in the Amazon?”
She shuddered, giving him one look of reprimand. “It’s impossible to forget.”
He stroked a caress down her long hair. “He
needs
to be worshipped. That need drives him all the time. He fears nothing on this earth but Arabejila—his lifemate—and her blood is strong in you.”
Riley made a little face at him. “When I’m dead and in the ground, I’ve got a few things I want to say to that woman. I longed for adventure when I was teaching at the university, but I have to tell you, thanks to Arabejila, normal seems really, really perfect.”
Dax found his mouth actually curving into a smile at the little bite in her voice. He hastily tried to hide it, knowing it wasn’t the smartest move on his part, smiling when she was a little annoyed. He took her hand and urged her gently toward Riordan.
“Take us to the home of the woman who disappeared most recently.”
Riley shook her head. “Not there. The doctor’s office. Her clinic. Let’s go there first.”
Riordan frowned. “There’re too many people in and out. You’ll never get a clear trail.”
“If you see a pregnant woman walking down the street, can you tell she’s a jaguar woman? I was introduced to Jasmine, and I couldn’t tell by look or scent that she was any different than a human woman. Can you? By scent maybe?” Riley asked.
Dax had to concede she had a point. “No, the jaguar is usually well hidden, especially in a pregnant woman.”
“So the common thread has to be the doctor they choose to see.
She
has to be how they target the women. They can’t just randomly pick a woman walking down the street, not if your theory that Mitro wants jaguar babies for some nefarious purpose is correct. If this Dr. Silva is the only doctor jaguar women trust, then once Mitro knows that, he can figure out that the majority of the women who go to her are probably jaguar. That takes the guess factor out of the game.”
Riordan nodded. “Do you think you can catch the trail even with the number of people in and out of that place?”
“Mitro can’t be getting the information himself. He wouldn’t use a watcher,” Dax said. “He can’t risk weakening himself. He has to have a human aiding him. And whoever it is wouldn’t just be hanging around outside. Someone would notice eventually.”