RAMOS’S RIGHT claw punctured the padded handle he gripped as Angela careened around a bend in the road. His left arm held the priest upright because the man had gone limp upon seeing the wolf spirit, and every muscle from Ramos’s chest down was clenched to keep him wedged in the seat. On top of that, he’d placed his wolf spirit in the back to avoid frightening the old man again when he woke and now found his limited vision from that position frustrating enough to howl over.Then again, the wolf kept looking at Angela in the moonlight and not the road ahead or the jungle passing by in a blur—at least he blamed the unwarriorlike behavior on the wolf and not the growing desire inside him to do nothing else.It didn’t help that with every jolt and jerk, his fangs gouged his lip and the burning in his head from the fire strike throbbed to the point of madness. He couldn’t think clearly —a condition that worsened beneath the full light of the moon.From the spirit world, he’d seen the effec
ANGELA FELT Ramos stiffen for a moment as if surprised; then he pressed his lips harder against hers and the stubble of his beard roughly brushed her skin. She fleetingly wondered why she would dream that but the thought was swept away by a hot wave of need. Her heart swelled and pounded, racing as wildly as the desire rushing through her.Then...nothing. Wasn’t there more to a kiss?She drew closer, moving her lips against his, wanting that more. He groaned, a deep rich sound expressing satisfaction greater than when he’d eaten the Snickers bar. She automatically slid her free hand up his sculpted chest through the smattering of soft dark hair there then along his neck, relishing the sensual nuances of supple skin, burning heat, and hard man. She threaded her fingers through his silky short hair, sighing with utter pleasure at every sensation. Short?Her eyes snapped open, bringing her fully awake from dreamland. Ramos the warrior she dreamed had long black hair to his shoulders. Thi
SEÑORA HERRERA? Rafael in hell? Denial and outrage bubbled up from the very depths of Angela’s heart.“No!” She pushed herself from Ramos’s warm arms and sucked in a bolstering breath before voicing her outrage as she glared at Father Dom, wondering how he even dared to declare her married. “Por Dios, no matter what words were said last night I am not and never will be the wife of that vile demonic creature. Do not ever refer to me as Señora Herrera. And you.” She pointed at Rafael. “Are not going to kill yourself or go to hell. We will, however”—she touched Ramos’s arm—“obliterate Herrera together once we have the proper weapons and a plan.”The priest shifted his gaze between her and Ramos, pointedly looking at her hand on Ramos’s arm.Angela automatically pulled her hand back, as if it were sinful of her to touch the warrior, but doing that really did feel wrong. She had a difficult time believing any part of the wonder and pleasure she’d shared with Ramos was wrong. It seemed the
“I’M SURE they had help, Otto. Who besides you knew of my plans?” Herrera watched the General’s expression closely as he sipped the creamy smooth scotch. The fifty- year-old Chivas Regal Royal salute had been released to honor a queen’s coronation. It was the best he’d ever tasted and he decided then he’d have the finest liquors to commemorate a Cortes’s return to power.“I’ve given it a great deal of thought since last night. Even asked a number of questions, discreetly, of course,” said the General. Then he shrugged. “And have come up with nothing.”Herrera dug his fangs into his gums. The General had always been a difficult man to read, but something about his confident, suave demeanor wasn’t hitting the right note of innocence. The inept guards following Angela had lost track of her after an attack from the ghost wolf and his men had yet to pick up the trail.The search by ground and air continued, but he’d been unable to sit by the phone any longer. Herrera had taken out all the
ANGELA VALDES had known her escape from prison was too good to be true, but the suddenness and violence with withDios. Was Ramos dying? Was he already dead?The gag in her mouth kept her from screaming, but her soul cried out in anguish. The blind warrior, a Shadowman from the heavens with a magical wolf spirit, had tried so desperately to save her. He’d been too drugged and injured to fight, and ended up face down in the mud, blood gushing from a knife wound in his back.What had become of Stefanie, Dr. Annette, Erin, and Megan? Her friends had been kidnapped with her, but taken somewhere different. Were they alive? Had the vampires sacrificed them as they’d threatened?How could she bear it? It was all her fault. She hadn’t stopped Ramos from being drugged, hadn’t cried out to Dr. Annette that he might not be delirious when he’d pulled Angela from the treatment room, warning of danger. It was true that he’d been in and out of consciousness since magically appearing the day before.
The men dragged her across the courtyard and into a two- story manor with a tiled roof as opposed to the thatched roofs she’d always seen in jungle buildings. Icy cold air hit her as the double doors opened onto a lavish interior. The exact details of it all were lost in a blur as the men quickly hauled her up the stairs, not even giving her a chance to make her muscles work. Stabbing pain shot up her legs every time her feet thudded against a wooden step.She gritted her teeth, determined not to cry out again. A short distance down a corridor, they brought her through double doors into a large, dimly lit bedroom.“Up, puta,” said one of the men as he kicked at a woman lying on a pallet on the floor.The woman rolled to her feet, brandishing a knife in her hand. She lashed out at the man who kicked her, but sadly did not come close enough to his crotch to harm him. Her quick agility revealed a youthfulness that couldn’t be seen in her harsh features and scarred visage. At some time po
DEEP WITHIN the inner circles of the spirit realm sat the Guardian Council’s glittering Judgment Hall, where aged and true warriors, chosen for their wisdom and zeal, presided over all of Logos’s forces. Twelve in number and robed in white, the Leader’s spirit forms were blinding in their intensity and intimidating in their countenances.York had peeked into the hallowed hall once, but he’d never sought entry.Whether it was because he felt unworthy or because he harbored anger over certain judgments was up for wager. The bottom line was, he didn’t trust himself in their presence, and Sven wisely didn’t, either. Sven’s extraordinary leadership and diplomacy always led him to face the Guardian Council over dire issues, of which there had been many of late—a situation that left York always waiting, an intolerable state of being.“It is a wonder you have not paced a rut down to Heldon’s icy realms by now,” Sirius said, frowning at him as he passed.York wanted to do something rash to ruf
“THERE, YOU make a beautiful bride. El jefe should be pleased and will show Ysalane good favor.”“You will pay for your part in Herrera’s evil,” Angela said through clenched teeth. “There is a God and you will pay.” She kept her gaze directed at Ysalane rather than at the mirror she stood before. She wanted to shred the white satin and lace gown from her body on principle alone. But since she didn’t know when or where she’d find any clothing, she bore the humiliating finery, hating every second that she was once again forced to do, say, and be what she despised in order to survive.The pictures of the twisted sex, blood, and death she’d seen made her feel violated, ugly, and so sick that she would rather die than be subjected to such a hell. Yet hope still beat inside her, urging her to hold on, to believe that freedom would once again be hers and that Ramos might be the large prisoner of which the old man spoke.She had to find a way to the dungeon before tonight. She had to find a w