Beside her Ronan stood stoically, but from the corner of her eye she noticed the flex of his jaw and the angry muscle that ticked there. Luz needed to hurry the hell up before the situation went south.
“The vampire has slaughtered innocents and, through the spread of corrupted magic, created mapinguari to ravage this town. He has taken lives and he has violated the secrecy that protects not only his kind but ours as well. For whatever reason you have come here tonight, Naya, it is your duty to hand him over to us so that we might mete out justice.”
Twenty angry Bororo shifters against one enraged vampire? Naya already knew who she’d put money on in that fight.
“Hand him over.” Joaquin stepped forward, every bit his father’s son. “If you don’t, you’re proving that you’re in league with the vampire and a betrayer to our people.” His brow furrowed as she kept her gaze forward, her face impassive. “Do you want to die alongside of him, Naya?”
Joaquin’s anger prickled over her skin, abrading with each shouted word. Drums pounded in the depths of her soul, a precursor to the magic that initiated a shift. Joaquin was tired of talking, it seemed. He’d always been a rash male with a too-short temper.
“Luz is coming.” Ronan murmured the words under his breath for Naya’s ears alone. That he could hear Luz approaching from around the block renewed Naya’s admiration for his keen senses. “Time for a new distraction.”
“What? No.”
Ronan threw himself at Joaquin. With a quick snap of his head the sounds of their skulls cracking together echoed in the space of the nearly deserted street. Joaquin whipped back from the force, his shock apparent in his wide eyes. He righted himself much too quickly, though, and swiped at the blood that trickled from his nose before charging at Ronan with a violent battle shout.
Others moved to come to Joaquin’s aid, but one of the elders raised his hand to stay them. “They’ll fight to the death!” he proclaimed over the din of the fight. “The truth will lie with the victor.”
Useless, antiquated logic. Why not dunk them underwater? Set them on fire? Drive them off the edge of a cliff? That sort of thinking worked well in the witch trials. Why not use it here, right? The stupidity of it all made Naya want to scream. Ronan had been right. Her people needed to step into the damned twenty-first century.
Even with his wrists bound, Ronan was a formidable opponent. His speed was beyond impressive as he dodged each swing of Joaquin’s fists. The dagger he clutched in his right hand flashed silver under the streetlights as he stabbed down at Ronan’s shoulder. It was a wasted effort, though, as the weapon made contact with nothing but air. Ronan used the other male’s misstep to his advantage and brought his knee into Joaquin’s gut.
The static charge of magic thickened the air as Joaquin gave himself over to the shift. In his jaguar form, he’d be even more formidable. Faster. Stronger. As deadly as Ronan, with sharp canines more than capable to rip out a throat. Her mate would lose the upper hand, and in the court of warriors Ronan would be found guilty, his sentence delivered before the verdict could even be made.
Magic pooled in Naya’s palms. Her own worry and anger fueled her power. It built in her body, and her limbs quaked with the effort to contain it. Change was going to come to the Bororo and it would begin with this pod.
“Stop!”
Energy exploded from every pore in Naya’s skin, leaving her body in a mad rush that sent out a massive shock wave. The ground shook with the force of it and sent bodies sprawling to the pavement. Ronan whipped around to look at her, shielding his eyes from the burst of bright golden light of Naya’s magic. In the ensuing chaos and confusion she could hear nothing save the sound of music that rose to a crescendo in her ears.
“Naya…! Naya…!”
Luz’s screams were muted by the music of Naya’s own magic. The rush of power as it funneled from her body left her weak and shaking. Her knees buckled and her vision blurred as Ronan changed course to rush to her side. The muscles of his arms bulged and cords of veins pressed to the surface of his skin as he yanked his wrists apart and snapped the gold chain that secured the cuffs together. He scooped Naya up in his arms and held her tight against his chest. “I’ve got you, love,” he said close to her ear. “I’ve got you.”
“No.” She’d be okay. She just needed a minute to gather her focus. “Luz. Protect Luz and help her with Paul. Distraction, remember?” Ronan’s brow furrowed with indecision and his jaw squared with his downturned mouth. “Don’t think about it,” she ordered. “Do it.”