She thought about everything her mother had stood for, the way she was raised, her sense of humor, how she always was there to pick her up when she had fallen down. Annabel was classy and strong; if this dragon was her last gift it deserved a better place than inside her dirty pocket.
Riley’s mind was puzzling out what it meant to wear her mother’s stone out where others could see it. “How did you know about the dragon, and my mother?”
“You touch it from time to time when you walk, although you don’t seem to notice. As for knowing about your mother, how could I not know?”
Opening her hand she presented the dragon to him. “Would you mind?”
Dax covered the bracelet and her wrist with both hands, having palmed the dragon. She felt the heat but couldn’t tell if it was his touch or what he was doing as tingles ran up her arm and into her fingertips. His hands came away, and it was perfect. The shadows of grief were still inside, but as she looked from his face down to her mother’s gift on her wrist, Riley felt a little more at rest. Without thinking Riley wrapped her arms around Dax, this time feeling completely at ease; she pulled hard, bringing his head closer to hers, initiating the contact this time.
His kiss took her away, sensations pouring into her body. He was so warm, his skin almost hot, his body hard against hers while his mouth moved over hers in long, heady kisses.
Riley pulled back a little, and Dax let her, but she could feel the struggle in him. It caused a wicked sense of danger and control she found a little intoxicating. The fact that he was having a difficult time with control was reassuring. Riley released his neck, slowly bringing her hand over his chest. She could feel his heart beating. Looking up she saw that his eyes were dancing as he held still, and Riley felt even more powerful. Playing with fire, she curled her nails into him.
The growl that rumbled out ran over Riley, causing her to jump back. Dax’s whole demeanor was one of victory and entirely too male, she thought. “You beast.” Shocked laughter infused her voice at the man that had growled at her.
“If you wish me to be, sivamet. It would be my pleasure.”
Riley felt he wanted to pounce on her right then, and by God there was a part of her asking him to. Dax spoke in her mind. We will have lots of time for pouncing, I promise you.
“I’m going to leave that one alone for right now. Thank you for the bracelet.” She was trying to find a way to break some of the sexual tension, but she didn’t think there was a knife big enough. “What does sivamet mean?”
Dax smiled down at her, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome. I enjoy giving you things you like. As for sivamet, it means ‘of my heart,’ or ‘my love’ might be a better interpretation in your language.”
Her heart performed a slow dizzy somersault. She had no words, but held his answer close to her. She just nodded.
“We need to get moving,” he said gently.
“It’s probably best. Where is the village we were going to?”
“Not very far, but we should explore the perimeter first and see what we find. And, Riley, be aware, Mitro’s evil will be drawn to you like no other. Keep your mind open to me at all times.”
“Dax, I made my choice.” She rubbed the bracelet on her arm. “Mitro killed my mother, those villagers and how many others, and now he’s out there right now and by all accounts doing it all over again. I don’t think I can fight him, but I can do this.”
“Take my hand. I have been blocking the area around us from your senses, but I am dropping the barrier now.”
The difference was instantaneous. Riley was filled with information. Her power was not one she could turn off and on, only turn up or dim down. It was easy to tell where the village was. The slimy feeling sinking into her skin gave that away.
“He was here,” Dax said. “But he’s long gone. I feel his evil permeating the ground. He’s left a few traps, and I’ll get rid of those. He’s good at masking his tracks, but there will be evidence. As powerful as he is, even he has to leave something of himself behind.”
She closed her eyes and filtered through the information.
They walked the perimeter, in a very wide circle, looking for signs Mitro left behind. They’d circled halfway around the village when Dax suddenly stopped in his tracks. Evil lay so thick in the ground, she felt like she was swimming through it. She looked down at the ground and saw the soil moving. “What is that?” She was horrified.
The moment she spoke, ants erupted from the ground, the surrounding bushes, even dropped from the branches overhead. Dax snatched her up and jumped across a clearing of grass and dirt. The area was ant-free, and as Riley looked back, she saw that the spot they’d leapt from had already returned to normal.
“One of Mitro’s traps. Let’s continue.” He was matter-of-fact.
Dax found two other traps, sprang them and cleared them unemotionally. But then, just before they completed their circle around the village, Riley halted abruptly without even knowing why. “Dax.” She looked up at him, confused. “I’m not certain what I’m doing.” She frowned. “There’s something here. Do you feel it?”
“Yes,” he said.
She looked up at him. “You would have found this without me. What is this? Some kind of test?”
“I didn’t want to leave you there. It was too dangerous. If one person from this village escaped or lagged behind the battle, you would be the target. Here I could protect you as well as find out what you can and can’t do.” There was no remorse in his voice. She realized he wasn’t going to apologize for choosing the best way to keep her safe.
She straightened her shoulders. “Let me try, then.”
As he had done when they first reached the village, Dax blocked all the other information, letting her concentrate her senses on that one strangely empty spot. As she focused, Mitro’s trail became clear. Riley began to shiver. The tiny spot wasn’t empty. The evil was so concentrated, it froze her senses, the way ice numbed nerves.
Riley sidestepped away from the direction they had been going, and started following the icy trail, certain that this was the path Mitro had taken. Her instincts were directing her thoughts. Her abilities stretched out. Though they weren’t as strong without using a ritual to focus and amplify them, with Dax blocking the “noise” from the rest of the forest, it was easy to follow the trail Mitro had left. Her mind raced along the icy remnants of his wake, twisting and turning as the vampire had until Riley was very far from where she started.
“That’s far enough, Riley. We have enough to go on.” His voice broke her concentration.
That wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She was getting closer to him. The trail had a different feel, like it was growing stronger. She wanted to know her abilities every bit as much as Dax did.
“Sivamet, you’ve given us a start, but it’s getting too dangerous.” There was a firm command this time.
With a sigh, Riley let go of the trail and came back. Her body ached and her muscles felt as if they were hard knots, her legs like rubber. Dax was the only thing holding her up. “Why did you call me back? I was getting so close.”
“You were getting tired. And Mitro might have been waiting for you. He has a gift for such things. He might have been able to strike at you in that form.”
“I really don’t like him.” Her breathing was back to normal and her arms didn’t feel like lead weights.
“I knew him before he turned vampire, and I didn’t like him then, either.” Dax stood and helped her to her feet.
She shuddered as the noxious sensations radiated out from the village, but she stood her ground. As she processed the information, she realized there was more, that the rhythm and pulse of the surrounding area vibrated in opposite tune. She could feel the earth fighting to expel the blemish on the land.
> Holding hands, Riley and Dax walked together toward the village. They walked into three more traps, each of which Dax quickly dispatched, and then they broke through the forest into the cleared area of the village, and Riley found herself standing in the middle of the most horrifying sight she’d ever seen. Words failed her. The sheer number of bodies strewn across the ground defied belief.
“Mitro must have visited the outlying areas during his first night and brought more villagers here,” Dax said. “I have never seen him work this fast before.”
In the center of the village was a horrific altar of sorts. A wooden dais bore a crude throne fashioned from what looked like wood and human bones. Great black wings soared out on two sides, each covered in layers of black feathers. The wings were covered in blood that refused to dry in the humidity of the jungle. Like a macabre waterfall, blood continued to drip from the blood-soaked dais to the black ichor-covered ground below. Riley and Dax carefully circled the dais. Pinned like a crucified Jesus to the back of the bloody wings was Marty’s tortured body, naked except for the insects that were feeding or hatching in his open wounds. Bile rose in Riley’s throat. Most of Marty’s organs were hanging free outside his body; his back had somehow been fused with the dais, and it was his blood dripping down the front. As they approached, the bloody, disfigured face lolled to one side and a bubbling groan wept from his lips.
“Oh, my God. Dax! Dax, do something! He’s alive. He’s still alive!”
With a wave of his hand, Dax sent all the insects fleeing their feast. He stepped up to the dais and placed a hand just over the boy’s collarbone. Bloody eyelids fluttered. Haunted eyes rolled up to focus on Dax. How Marty was alive, let alone still conscious, Riley had no idea. Her heart was breaking as she looked at him, and tears streamed down her face.
Dax held the contact for several minutes, clearly searching Marty’s mind for information he could use. When he was done, he turned his head just slightly toward her, not making eye contact. “Riley, look away.” It was the closest Dax had ever come to a plea, and she almost did as he asked. Instead, she squeezed the hand she still held. She knew what he was going to do, and she wouldn’t let him do it alone.
In that instant all pain was gone, memories of horror were gone from his mind, so Marty only remembered happy moments in his life. Dax waved his hand, and Marty gave one last sigh before succumbing to his horrible wounds. Riley didn’t need to be told that there was nothing they could do. The boy was too far gone. Her tears continued to fall as Dax walked them away from behind the dais.
Clouds formed unnaturally fast, dark and mean. Lightning raced from one side of the sky to the other. The electricity was palpable in the air, but it was Dax being so closed off that truly unnerved her. For the first time she felt him mentally slipping away, and she let him go. She understood the need to distance oneself when faced with such horrors.
“Marty was here to study ruins with his professor and Todd, his friend,” Dax said, staring at the gathering storm. “He had a love for history and especially the study of how myths and gods were created. Mitro spent a lot of time in this part of his brain. I believe the vampire may be considering making his own cult, using the volcano and the dragons and local legend.” His voice was neutral, but even without the connection she thought she detected shame.
“This is not your fault, Dax.”
He went on as if he didn’t hear her. “Mitro used Marty to learn about the modern world, or at least as much of it as he could. He took his time while he made the village people sacrifice each other in his name. Pedro was one of the first to die.”
“Dax . . .”
Dax cut her off. “Yes, Riley, this is my fault. Every child, every man, every woman . . . their deaths are my fault.” Dax raised his hand and lightning sprang to his fingertips, gathering into another ball of light and fire.
“Do we know where he is?”
“Before coming here Marty and Todd spent time in a city, filled with people. Mitro spent time reviewing those memories. I think the city appealed to his latest aspirations.”
Dax threw the ball of flame straight down at their feet. Waves of lightning and fire in every color spread in an instant, burning everything but them. Dax took her arm and guided her back toward their camp. The fire retreated from their every step. “I believe he wants to go to a place where there are young people that will worship him as he believes he deserves.”
When the village was out of sight, Riley looked up at Dax. Otherworldly and beautiful, his expression looked carved from stone.
Riley had had enough of his stoicism. She could feel how much he was suffering. She reached up, grabbed the back of his hair and kissed him hard. At first, he held firm and then their world turned to a fire as hot and wild as the one they’d just left as he let her take him to someplace far, far different.
12
Riley knew she wasn’t alone the moment she woke. She was surrounded by Dax’s scent. Warm. Masculine. Wild. Dangerous—which was strange because she instantly felt safe.
“Open your eyes.”
Her body responded to that soft, hypnotic voice, melting, turning liquid. She lifted her lashes and looked into his face. Desire, raw and electric, sizzled through her body until heat pooled low. He looked sinfully beautiful, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. There was nobility in that carefully carved face. Each feature was distinct and etched with an artistic hand. His short, spiked hair, obsidian black, nearly sparkled, giving her palms a tingly feeling and forcing her to curl her fingers tightly into fists to prevent her from running them through that thick pelt. God, he was gorgeous.
Her breath caught in her throat. He was lying beside her on his side, his body curved protectively around hers, on one elbow, his head propped up by his hand, his eyes drifting possessively over her. The look in his eyes stole her sanity. There was desire, stark and raw that set her blood surging hotly, bringing every single nerve ending in her body alive.
Riley was reluctant to sit up, savoring the feel of his hard muscles, the impressive length and thickness of his heavy erection lying tight against her bottom and the heat from his body warming her. He smiled at her, a flash of white teeth, his strange eyes claiming her. The multifaceted eyes glowed at her with small orange-red flames illuminating the colors of diamonds. His free hand was in her hair, as if he couldn’t resist the feel of it. His long fingers massaged her scalp, sending the most delicious sensation through her.
She blinked up at him. “Hello.”
He inclined his head. “Good evening. I brought you something.”
His hand reluctantly slipped from her hair, and she actually followed the descent of that warm touch with her head, wanting to rub against him more. Was there shyness in his voice? Not quite, but certainly a hesitant charm she found intriguing. She turned over and as he sat up, so did she, stifling a yawn. He traced the pad of his finger down her cheek to her lower lip.
“You have this very tempting lip that makes me want to lean over and just bite,” he said very softly.
She found herself blushing. She wasn’t a woman who blushed, but then men didn’t say blatantly sexual things to her as a rule. Her mother always told her she was intimidating, unapproachable and too striking. The combination, according to Annabel, was lethal when meeting men. Only the bravest would dare to get shot down. Of course mothers had to say things like that—maybe they even believed it. Riley had never bought into her mother’s explanations.
His finger caressed her lip, soft brushstrokes threatening to steal her sanity. She had an incredible, and completely out of character urge, to draw that finger into her mouth. He was temptation personified—the serpent in the garden—and she was falling faster than Eve ever thought of eating that apple.
She made a sound, she knew she managed something, but his eyes, with those small red-orange flames flickering wi
th such heat, surrounded by the longest lashes she’d ever seen, were so distracting and intense.
“Do you want your gift?” he asked softly.
Her gaze dropped to his perfectly molded mouth. If she leaned forward just a few inches . . .
“Sivamet, are you awake?”
There was laughter in his voice. Riley had it bad, because that laughter resonated through her body, setting every nerve on fire. She managed a nod, completely mesmerized by him. She had wanted out of the classroom, wanted some adventure, but she had never considered she might find . . . him.
“This is an ancient tradition,” he explained as he gave her a single flower.
The blossom was large, much like a lily but shaped like a star. The petals were open to reveal the inside, the ovary a deep ruby red with two striped filaments. The shape and size of the stigma brought the color flooding to her face—that particular part looked like a very large erection. She knew flowers, her mother grew every kind, but this one, stunningly beautiful, definitely could be used to explain sex.
“Taste it.”
She blinked at him. Swallowed. She didn’t know why that sounded sexy. Everything he said and did seemed to be sexy.
“Use your tongue to stroke along the . . .”
“Um. I get it.” She couldn’t possibly.
Her eyes, captured by his, refused to look away. She was caught there, in those mesmerizing eyes, trapped, unable to defend herself. Her tongue darted out and she touched that bulbous head tentatively. At once taste burst through her mouth, vibrant and spicy. Addicting. She licked along the underside and all around the head, seeking more of the elusive flavor.
Dax leaned closer until she could feel his warm breath against her neck. “Do you like it?”
“It’s amazing,” she admitted. “I’ve never tasted anything like this.”
“The flower takes on the taste of the giver.”
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