It was so sudden, she had no time to think or act. Her heart caught in her throat as the creature leaped, its powerful haunches propelling him up and out, his speed mesmerizing. Almost as mesmerizing as the vampire who hit him midbody.
The lion’s roar was a deafening explosion of surprise, but before Elisa could draw breath, she was seized in hard hands that flung her painfully over a shoulder. A jolting run across the ground; then she was dumped into the Jeep’s backseat. Tokala slammed the door closed, then ran a few yards from the Jeep, bringing the rifle to his shoulder.
Elisa scrambled up to the open window, a cry catching in her throat. The grasses were a tornado of motion as the two beings struggled. There was a flash as they surfaced, and she saw Mal grappling with the lion, then ducking under the swipe of a paw, avoiding wide, fang-filled jaws that could have crunched down on her skull like shellfish. The lion had more than one set of claws, however, and as they rolled, the powerful back legs raked, tearing open the jeans and flesh covering Mal’s left leg. A geyser of blood erupted and Elisa cried out.
“Mal.”
Tokala fired into the air. It might have worked if the creature didn’t have blood in his nose, but he was as gripped in bloodlust as one of the fledglings. As fast as they were grappling, the Indian had no clear shot, though Elisa knew he could shoot through the vampire if needed, since a bullet wouldn’t kill Mal. She wondered why he didn’t, shouted in panic at Tokala to take the shot, and then realized Mal wouldn’t want the lion harmed unless absolutely necessary.
Tokala cursed and leaped forward. As Elisa watched in amazement, he darted in, seized the lion’s tail and twisted it, hard. At the same time, he yanked on it, using his second-mark strength to haul the lion back several feet. By his tail. The creature howled in pain, turned like a whipping snake.
“No!” But Tokala was already backpedaling and fired directly into the ground between him and the lion, spraying up dirt and grass and startling the creature. It gave Mal the moment he needed. He threw himself on the lion, pulling the beast onto his haunches and locking his fists around the maddened creature’s neck, a wrestler’s headlock.
Get her out of here. Elisa heard the thundering command in her mind and Tokala was already in motion. She scrambled to the front, shoved open the door. Tossing the rifle in the back, Tokala slammed into the driver’s seat, turned the engine over, fishtailing the vehicle to get up the slope and back toward the service road. She twisted around in the seat in time to see Mal release the lion, thrust him away, and then the vampire was no longer there, moving out of the animal’s range faster than she could follow, despite that grievous injury.
Less than two minutes, and it was all over. As they reached the top of the hill and the road, she looked back and saw the lion at the abandoned trailer. Mal’s blood had sprayed against it, such that the beast was hitting the metal side with his body, roaring, as if he thought his prey had escaped in there. She noted he was trampling the flowers she’d dropped when Tokala had been running with her.
Her mind was pinwheeling, panicked. Mal? Mal?
I’m here, Irish flower. I’m well outside of Thai’s range now. He’ll calm down in a bit. I’ll meet you on that next ridge.
She glanced toward Tokala, whose face was tense, lips pressed tight. “It’s okay; they’re all right.”
He gave her a half nod, and she realized he was listening to someone else. Someone giving him what for, because he looked like he was being beaten with a tire iron sitting still.
This wasn’t his fault. Sir? Mr. Malachi?
He ignored her, making her jaw clench. How could Tokala have known the lion would come out of nowhere like that? The western section had miles of area, after all. Even Mal hadn’t expected them to be around. They’d be indifferent, he’d said. When they pulled up to the ridge, though, her worried irritation over that was eclipsed. Mal was sitting on the ground, that frightening tear in his jeans soaked with blood, and he was pale.
As the Jeep slowed, Elisa was all set to jump out, but Tokala clamped down on her arm. “Wait.” He nodded, and then she saw what he did. Jeremiah, standing at the edge of the forest.
Mal managed to get to his feet, and though he didn’t look toward Jeremiah, she could tell by the set of his shoulders he was well aware of the young vampire’s proximity. Their bloodlust could be set off by violence, weakness, the smell of blood itself, and this moment was rife with all three.
However, that didn’t appear to be Mal’s primary concern. He was pure vampire now, the one who commanded all of them, his expression devoid of emotion or familiarity. Tokala got out of the Jeep to face his employer, his eyes anguished and smooth face tight.
“You want me to get my stuff and leave, I will, Mal. No excuse for it. Just plain stupid, in so many ways.”“No.” Elisa got out, though the fact she was having to hop took some of the dignified determination away from it. “You can’t fire him. The lion came out of nowhere.”
“No, he didn’t.” Tokala turned toward her, since Mal said nothing. “I knew there were two of them wandering the preserve. I should have been keeping my senses tuned to it. They likely wouldn’t have bothered us, even if they saw us, because they’re familiar with humans, but it was your limping that drew him. Sets off a prey radar and he pretty much has to run you down. The moment you twisted your ankle I should have told you to stop where you were, not move until I scouted the area or brought the Jeep to you.”
“So you made a mistake. It happens. I’m fine. We’re all fine.” Though she’d feel far more certain of that if she could get a closer look at Mal’s leg, see if it was healing up already. Offer him blood if he needed it. She sidled, just a discreet hop, and Mal’s gaze twitched wholly onto her.
“Stay by the Jeep, Elisa.”
Jeremiah straightened then, and when Mal glanced toward him, his throat worked. Elisa stilled as she heard a coherent sound come from him, such a remarkable occurrence that everyone’s attention turned. He squared his shoulders and spoke. “Go . . . I’ll go.”
“You spoke.” She let the joy of it fill her, keeping the trauma of the past few minutes at bay.
Jeremiah nodded, ducked his head. She heard the next words clearly enough. “Different . . . here.”
Mal studied his bent profile. “Join the others back at the water hole. I’ll be there shortly.”
Jeremiah gave Elisa one more look and then disappeared into the trees. Mal waited, obviously confirming the boy was well out of range before he turned his attention back to Tokala. Elisa could see the man’s pain. This was his home. It wasn’t a matter of being fired from a job. If Mal told him to go, he was being expulsed from a family. She wanted to argue or plead with Mal, whichever might work, but she was afraid either one might push him in the wrong direction. After a long moment, the vampire shifted.
“Take Elisa back to the house. You and I will talk in my office later tonight.”
She let out an unsteady breath. Tokala might not be able to tell, but she could. He was going to get a serious thrashing in some manner, but Mal wasn’t going to send him away. Only then did she notice she’d started to shake, her knees weakening at an alarmingly fast rate.
Of course she didn’t fall or faint; she’d never own up to that. She just lost a few minutes, after which she found herself being placed in the passenger seat of the Jeep. Mal slid his arms from beneath her. She guessed he’d caught her before she could hit the ground. Which would have happened if she’d done something like fainting, which of course she hadn’t.
“Of course not.” He pushed one of her curls off her cheek, the irritable look at odds with the gentle touch. “You’ll go back to the house now. If you so much as lift a finger to clean, cook, iron, scrub or whatever domestic verb applies, you’ll regret it. Take a bath and go to bed for the next few hours. Tell Kohana to make one of his herbal teas to help you sleep.”
“I’m fine. It wasn’t any more terrifying than being in the way of a cattle stampede. Which is bloody awful, but in the end, it’s over and done with. That happened when I was a cook on a cattle drive for a short stint. You need blood, though. He spoke, Mal.”
“Tokala will give me some if I need it before dawn.” Mal leaned in then, rubbed his mouth along the line of her cheekbone. “And if you’re in bed, I’ll know just where to find some more, won’t I?”
When Tokala turned over the engine, Mal stepped back without further comment. However, watching him recede in the rearview mirror, Elisa thought she’d do better with whiskey than tea, if she wanted to sleep after that comment.
18
DESPITE that, by the time she reached the house, she was dozing in the seat. The sudden surge of fear, the pleasure of seeing the children run, the wonder of Jeremiah talking, it all washed through her, taking the evening’s energy with it. Vaguely, she was aware of Tokala radioing ahead to Kohana. Probably letting him know what happened, giving him Mal’s instructions. She was aware of a barking response from Kohana, and realized that everyone was going to have their turn pummeling the man verbally. But no one would be harder on him than Tokala himself. So as she bumped along in her pleasant haze, it was natural to reach out, find his hand on the gear shifter and close on it briefly, then move up to his forearm to stroke.
“’S okay,” she mumbled. “I’m fine, Tokala. It’s all good. No worries.”
She wasn’t sure what he replied, but she was aware he let go of the shifter to squeeze her hand, hard enough to cause her bones to complain, but it was okay. Men were so funny. They couldn’t cry about it like girls could, or simply be thankful it hadn’t been worse. They had to get mad at someone, like Mal or Kohana did, or be all silent like Tokala, afraid to let it out. It was all right. He’d be fine. They’d work it out in their own way. Just like the children were starting to do, now that they were in a safe place. She cherished those few words Jeremiah had spoken, reliving them again and again. Especially the last two. Different here. Yes, it was.