“Shit!” Naya blinked to clear her vision. She threw open the car door, barely taking the time to slam it behind her as she ran for her house. Two at a time, she hopped up the steps to the front porch. Her hand shook as she fumbled with her keys, and after the third try she managed to slide the key into the lock. Tendrils of dread spread like poison through her bloodstream as she eased open the door and stepped into the living room.
How in the hell was he awake? She’d infused the encanto el dormir with her own magic, making it more than strong enough to keep a coven of vampires good and unconscious for another four or five hours. She’d been right to consider him a threat. Naya had underestimated his strength, and that bothered her more than anything. With the quiet steps of a hunter, she padded through the sparsely furnished living room to her bedroom. She pulled her dagger from the sheath. The blade pulsed, the citrine glow spreading over Naya’s hand and wrist. It could sense whatever magic Ronan had stolen as well, and she knew by the way the handle warmed in her palm that the dagger was hungry.
She wrapped her left hand around the doorknob and took a deep breath. The sour taste of regret settled on the back of her tongue as she thought about what she was about to do. Whether he had no recollection of what had happened the night before or not, Ronan was a liability. She’d been anxious to unravel his mystery. She needed to know why his song could be so crude and ugly one moment and so breathtakingly beautiful the next. She wanted him to tell her how he knew her name and why he thought she was in danger. The male was a walking contradiction. A puzzle she longed to solve. None of that mattered, though. If the magic took him and he became a mapinguari, she couldn’t allow for him to be loosed on the city. She had to neutralize him before he managed to free himself from his bonds. She turned the knob. The music changed, no longer wild and volatile but sweet with tinkling notes that caused her heart to swell in her chest. Damn it. What a waste. She was about to silence that beautiful sound forever.
* * *
Ronan stood with his back suctioned to the wall.
He’d felt her presence the moment her car had pulled up to the house, waking him from endless darkness. He blinked away the fatigue that pulled at his lids and worked the key, releasing his ankles and then his wrists from the manacles. He couldn’t even take the time to appreciate the relief of being rid of the accursed silver. What would happen when she walked through the door? Would she finally run that scary-ass dagger through his heart? He felt like fucking shit and he wasn’t even sure if his sorry ass would be worth a damn in a fight.
Guess you’ll find out soon enough.
The doorknob turned slowly and Ronan tensed. His concentration was divided between controlling his mounting bloodlust and getting ready to neutralize the threat about to walk through the door. He’d feel a whole hell of a lot better if he were armed with more than his fangs, but there was nothing to be done for it. A low growl built in his chest. The feeling of vulnerability triggered an instinctual need to protect himself and his lip curled in a snarl. Gods damn it, calm the fuck down.
A sliver of light shone through the cracked door and cast a long, bright gash across the dark brown carpeting. She led with her hand, dagger extended, and Ronan suddenly felt the urge to chide her for coming in that way. What was she thinking? An attacker could easily disarm her and leave her defenseless. Ronan reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her with ease. With his free arm he seized her around the waist, pulling her tight against him. It didn’t take much effort to pluck the strange dagger from her hand when she was immobilized this way. Something she should have known had she been half as badass as she’d pretended to be.
With a quick flick of his wrist Ronan sent the dagger flying to the far end of the room. The blade lodged itself in the drywall and he hoped it stayed there. He didn’t like the way it felt in his hand, the warmth pulsing from the handle like a heartbeat. His captive’s ribs expanded under his arm as she took a deep breath, and he slapped his hand over her mouth to stifle her building scream. “Quiet.” His mouth brushed the delicate skin behind her ear and Ronan’s thirst blazed hot in his throat. “I can snap your neck with little effort. Don’t make me do it.”
She stilled for a moment as though she’d decided to play nice. But then she dug her teeth into Ronan’s hand and bit down on his fingers, hard. He pulled his hand away with a yelp, shaking out his hand, surprised she hadn’t bitten through the damned bone. And she didn’t stop there. The bite was nothing more than a distraction, and she used it to her advantage. She threw her elbow into his stomach and Ronan grunted as she slammed her back into his chest. It put him off balance and he stumbled, his head knocking against the wall with a thump. Wow, that so didn’t help the steady throb that made him think his brain was trying to escape his cranium.