The Warrior Vampire by Kate Baxter Read Free Book Online Page B

her thoughts inward. If she continued to think about what had happened her energy would become volatile, and she wouldn’t be worth a good goddamn to anyone if she wasn’t centered. A heaviness settled in her limbs as she meditated, a peaceful urging toward calm and focus that she welcomed. She hadn’t rested in almost twenty-four hours, as she’d been too uncomfortable to let her guard down with a volatile vampire chained to her bed. Gods, she was tired.
    The tinkling chimes of magic stirred her senses, caused the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck to stand on end. Wild, unfocused, the song lashed out at her senses, grating on her ears like metal scraping metal. Her eyes watered and her chest tightened until she couldn’t take a deep enough breath to fill her lungs. Without thinking she snatched her sheathed dagger from the cubby in the center console, and it warmed her palm through the leather as though in warning.
    â€œShit!” 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