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“Please don’t look.”

Ana continued to trace the puckered red flesh, wincing as the sobs escaped Libby, gut wrenching and full of pain, both physical and emotional.

Her eyes continued to wander over the mutilated area, and she could see that Libby favored her left side. Her ribs there were swollen, suggesting an injury that hadn’t healed.

Ana turned away, sickened by the obvious signs of torture. She

grabbed the towel from the floor and gently wrapped it around Libby’s shaking form. Less than twelve hours ago she had wanted nothing more than Libby’s blood. Nothing more than for Libby to experience the darkness of death.

She’d been alive for over three hundred years, and in that time had seen a lot. She’d traveled to every corner of the globe, and beyond. She’d suffered losses and endured indescribable anguish, both mental and physical, as she lost everyone she’d ever loved.

Ana was cursed and she knew it.

She could feel the darkness that was slowly chipping away at her soul. Or what was left of it. Diego had been her anchor. With him, she’d been able to push it back. She’d been able to hope. She’d been able to live once more.

Even among all the death and destruction they fought against every day.

When he’d been murdered, it was almost her undoing. The only thing that kept her from walking into the sun was a thirst for revenge. It ate at her with a ferocity that made blood lust pale in comparison. It was insatiable, relentless.

Now she was confused as all hell, and feeling something a three-hundred-year-old vampire rarely felt: shocked.

She exhaled softly. It looked like Libby had found her own nightmare punishment.

She led Libby from the shower room then, trying her best to ignore the sobs that escaped Libby’s clenched, chattering teeth. It was starting to look like Libby’s years in limbo had been no picnic at all. But for Ana, the question still remained. Did she deserve the sympathy that was knocking hard at her door?

As they entered the medical facility, the vampire’s steel resolve was once more in place. She was focused and determined to find out what the hell had happened.

And no amount of scars, burns, and broken bones would keep her from vengeance if Libby was complicit in the attack on their unit, in the death of Diego.

That was the one thing she was sure of.

Chapter 8

The large black jaguar swam through deep water, his powerful strokes carrying him forward until he reached the edge. Using claws as sharp as razors, he pulled his heavy body out and onto the bank. Midnight colored flanks heaved from exhaustion, the rosettes barely noticeable underneath the palette of black, as they glistened underneath the artificial light that gently illuminated the jungle room.

The cat barked a warning and jumped easily up onto a large branch that jutted out over the water. His tail flickered back and forth lazily. The animal was anything but. His mouth hung loose and he began to pant as anxiety once more drifted through his veins.

It roared once more, angered that the woman he wanted to claim, needed to claim, was being denied him. He was at war with the humanity that lived deep inside his soul. The part of him that held back, the part that ran on emotion.

The animal in him only wanted to mate. And no one but Libby would do.

It was a pleasure long denied.

A noise broke through the eerie silence, and the cat swung his great head toward the far corner. He growled low and deep from his chest, standing up and scenting the air. Without a sound he jumped back toward the embankment and crept slowly through the underbrush, disappearing into his surroundings.

With great stealth the cat moved forward, creeping low amidst the underbrush. He sensed a presence to his left and veered to the right, quickly circling back until a scent reached his nostrils. The cat began to tremble then, so great was his excitement, and as he stalked ever closer to his prey, it was harder for the human side to maintain control.

Up ahead a shadow passed before him, and with a mighty run and leap his great paws knocked his prey to the ground, landing on top in a rush of muscle and bone.

“For Christ sakes Jaxon, get the hell off of me.”

With a powerful push Declan wrangled his way from beneath the heavy animal, his face thunderous. “You weigh a fucking ton. Do that again and I’ll be forced to use dark magick on you. You wanna stay a pussy forever?”

The two of them stood for a few seconds, chests heaving, and then mist began to creep around the black cat. It lovingly caressed the powerful beast, enveloping it in its tendrils, encouraging the change until, a few seconds later, Jaxon stood in its place.

His tall frame was awash in sweat, glistening under the light that made its way through the heavy overhang of jungle fauna. His lips were pulled back into a rakish grin, and he flexed the long muscles in his arms, rotating his neck in an effort to calm the beast that still wanted to hunt.

His naked form slowly crossed to a pile of clothes left near the hidden entrance, and he pulled his jeans on, letting his chest fill with air. The clan tattoos that colored his left shoulder and curved down around his abs seemed luminescent.


Tags: Juliana Stone Jaguar Warriors Paranormal