“Paul keeps a tight rein on our pod.”
“Pod?”
“You know. It’s the Bororo equivalent of a…” Naya swirled her hand around as she tried to find the right word. “‘Pack.’”
Ronan quirked a brow. “Vampires don’t live in packs. We live in covens.”
She pursed her lips. “Potato, potahto. You know what I mean.”
He continued to fiddle with her hair, his gaze pinned to it as he ran the strands through his fingers. Naya suppressed a pleasant shudder. Something so simple shouldn’t have felt so good. “There are other Bororo pods?” The sound of his voice lulled her, low and warm.
“A few.” She leaned into his touch, angling her body until her shoulder rested against his. She wanted to lay her cheek against his chest, but she held herself in check. She couldn’t afford to lose herself to him again. His pull was too strong, too absolute. And until she knew more about this Siobhan and what she was to Ronan, Naya had to guard her heart as best she could. “Smaller pods are less conspicuous. The size of the pod depends on the size of our location. Crescent City is a tiny town, so our pod is relatively small in comparison to some of the others.”
The pads of his fingers caressed the shell of her ear. A rush of liquid warmth suffused her and settled in a soft thrum between her legs. It seemed even innocent touches from the vampire made her ache with desire. “Are you the only hunter?”
Pride swelled in Naya’s chest. That he would acknowledge her in such a way was more than even Paul could do. He called her tracker. Or bruja. But she wasn’t worthy of the title hunter as far as the elders were concerned. “I am. Each pod only has one at a time. Though there is always an apprentice. My cousin Luz is mine.”
“How does an apprentice move up in the ranks?”
Ronan’s interest in Naya’s life—and who she was—warmed her heart. He was genuinely curious, not simply placating her. The tightness that had pulled her entire body taut for the past few days loosened and something rose up inside of her as though an empty pocket of her soul had been filled. Beside her, Ronan’s eyes drifted shut and an enigmatic smile settled on his full lips.
“An apprentice moves up when the pod’s bruja either dies or becomes mated.”
“Hmmm.” Ronan didn’t open his eyes. “They plan to put you out to pasture, then?”
Naya laughed. As though her head acted of its own volition, she laid it on Ronan’s shoulder. Her palm found his thigh and he captured her hand in his, twining their fingers together. Naya marveled at how natural it felt to settle her body against his. To allow the strength of his body to support her. This was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to feel anything for him.
“More or less,” Naya responded with a sigh. Ronan’s thumb traced a lazy pattern over her finger as she tucked in closer to his chest. “I just don’t understand the rush. Luz isn’t even close to being ready to take over and it’s not like I’ve been botching up any of the repossessions I’ve done lately. If I had to guess, I’d say that Paul’s nervous about the fact that I’ve tried to put some distance between my life and the pod’s tight-knit circle. He probably thinks that mating me to Joaquin will bring me back into the fold.”
“Why bring you in at all?” With his free hand Ronan guided her chin up until their gazes met. “Why not let you leave to live your life as you wish?”
Naya gave him a sad smile. “There are few Bororo females who can hear the music of magia anymore. Paul needs me to stay. To make babies with Joaquin. Girls with the ears to track and take the magic that’s been stolen or loosed upon the world.”
A territorial growl built in Ronan’s chest. “If he thinks to keep you like a common brood mare, he’ll find your current mate to be an obstacle in seeing his ambitions to fruition.”
Jealousy flashed hot in Naya’s chest, followed by a rush of fierce protectiveness that left her muscles aching with the need to fight. By her physical reaction, the emotions gripping her might as well have belonged to her, but she knew that Ronan’s emotions swirled in a violent whirlwind inside of her.
The tether?
“So…” Control seemed nonexistent when it came to Ronan. The urge to get closer—and with a hell of a lot less clothes on—consumed her. Naya’s mind wandered to the incredible high she felt when he touched her. The magic and power that it evoked in her. If she didn’t keep their conversation rolling, she’d be naked and begging him to do wonderful and delicious things to her before another minute passed. “Are you allowed to live your life the way you want, Ronan? When you’re not busy losing your memory or searching for missing sisters?”