The Warrior Vampire(57)

A little blood went a long way when rejuvenating a vampire, it seemed. And being the blood donor hadn’t exactly been a hardship for Naya, either. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as anger burned in her stomach at Ronan’s heated words. Why was he treating her so harshly? As though any of this were her fault. By rights, she should have killed him that first night. She’d spared his life. And now he was treating her kindness as though it were something reprehensible, taking the care she’d shown him and throwing it right back in her face.

She sat in the damp sand, stunned, as Ronan continued to shout at Joaquin. His eyes were fully silver, shining like the moon in an endless midnight sky. Her vampire was quick to temper. A foolish tantrum that would do nothing but coax Joaquin to violence.

As if it hadn’t been humiliating at all for her to have the male she was supposed to be paired with notice her raging desire for the one resting in her lap. Ronan acted as though she allowed her lust to master her on purpose. As though the pleasure of his bite were something that she could turn on or off like a light switch. Gods, her entire life had gone into a fiery tailspin. She no longer had control over anything, least of all her own emotions. And Ronan threw them in her face as though they meant nothing.

She belongs to me!

His words cut deep. Once again, a male equated her with nothing more than a bauble to be put on a shelf until needed. And who in the hell was Siobhan? Naya’s teeth clamped down at the thought of his incoherent ramblings. Was there another female in his life? One who perhaps thought she had a claim on him?

There was much Naya’s vampire hadn’t told her, it seemed.

As Ronan continued on his tirade, shouting at Joaquin, daring him to attack, the control that Naya exercised over the power swirling within her was held by the barest of threads. A pittance compared to what was still contained inside of Ronan, but no matter how she’d tried, she’d been unable to extract the magic from his body. Like a malicious parasite, it refused to leave its host. His volatile temper was proof enough that the darkness inside of him was growing in power. Cold dread settled on her heart at the realization that, as with every usurper she’d hunted, the only way to banish the magic would be to kill Ronan.

If she didn’t, he’d become a monster.

Hours seemed to pass in the minutes they’d been under the pier. The moment Naya had threatened him, Joaquin had shifted. It was hard to tell at this point if he was planning to kill them both. Knowing the chieftain’s son, Naya realized he’d try to take them both before the council. Joaquin was nothing if not a stickler for the rules. But if she didn’t do something to diffuse the situation now, he wouldn’t get the chance to play it by the book, because Ronan was going to kill him.

“Ronan, let’s go.” As much as his words stung, she didn’t want to be out here, exposed, for another minute. It wouldn’t be long before Santi or one of the elders showed up. They rarely went out alone in their jaguar forms. And whereas Naya had no doubt that Ronan would win in a one-on-one fight, she doubted he’d fare as well if he fought a handful of Bororo warriors.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Ronan grated. He jerked his chin toward Joaquin. “I’m not afraid of him. I’m not afraid of any of them.”

Exasperating male! “I never said you were! But this is going to get ugly fast if we don’t leave. You’re still volatile. I can hear it. And I’m not doing much better. We’re at a disadvantage here. We need to regroup.”

“We don’t need to do anything,” Ronan stressed. “I need to find my sister. I need to get rid of whatever this is inside of me. And I need to get my ass out of this backward fucking town and back to L.A. Come on!” he shouted at Joaquin. “Are you going to stand there all fucking night or are you going to fight me, you cowardly son of a bitch!”

Deafening music punished Naya’s ears, so loud that she wished she could do something to soften the offending song. Ronan’s fury washed over her like a winter-ocean spray and she sucked in a sharp breath at the chill that permeated her skin.

Joaquin’s dark ears perked up and he took off down the beach, letting out a loud cry as he loped through the sand. Not good. There would be a force of Bororo descending on the beach in a matter of minutes.

“What in the hell is the matter with you?” The music of corrupt magic had begun to quiet in Ronan’s body though his anger had yet to subside. “Are you out of your mind? It’s like you’re looking for a fight!”

“Maybe I am.” Ronan rounded on her, his eyes bright with silver. “I don’t need your protection, Naya, and I don’t need you to fight my battles for me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”