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“He can’t,” he said grimacing, “he already tried to take a female Iridescent, Antonio’s daughter, but it failed miserably.”
“So, he does leave your body at times?”
“At times, yes.”
“Why don’t you just run when he’s out, hide and hopefully the Council will track him down and kill him.”
“I can’t run because he’s used his powers to take possession of my organs, my heart and brain. I’m trapped between the two of them.”
“The two of them?”
“Yes, the spirit of the seventh and Scarface who was his original symbiont. When Scarface departs my body, I am shackled within him by the spirit.”
“So as Zaroc…right now, Scarface and the spirit are…inside you?”
“Yes, and if I don’t comply with getting them a baby, we all die!”
“I can’t believe this…how the hell did he get in you?”
“Afghanistan. I was visiting my father who can never pass up the spoils of war, bloody battlefields, the wails of death, he loves it. Three days into my visit I got caught by a land mine and was near death. The seventh’s symbiont host also sustained injuries and was weakening. The seventh made a deal with my father, to not only heal me, but to help find a Chippewa and make me a Sirun.”
“But why Scarface, why not just the spirit?”
“The two of them can’t separate until there’s a permanent host. I’m just temporary and I can’t sustain them. That’s where you come in, Donja. You and I make a baby and it’s done, the spirit takes the baby and Scarface and I walk away, free.
“You’re crazy…even crazier than I thought.”
“Careful, Scarface might not appreciate that,” he whispered.
“Scarface,” she huffed. I don’t believe you, he’s not inside you. You’re crazy.”
“Oh, but he is, and he fell hook, line and sinker the minute he laid eyes on you. He would have had you already and saved us the time and trouble of abducting you if not for that fucking Mancini. Sadly, the bastard marked you, so now you’re tainted by his antigens, but don’t worry, that can be fixed. In the meantime, you and I can get to know each other,” he grinned with his smoldering eyes washing over her, “and after the transfusion, I’ll mark you as my own.”
“Transfusion…what are you talking about?”
“Your brother’s blood, surely you knew.”
“Frankie! Don’t you dare touch him!” Donja screamed.
“Sorry, my sweet, but there’s no other way. Mancini and his goons may have the manor protected, but after a feeding to gain power, which your Durent blood will provide, the seventh will be far too powerful for them.”
“Zaroc, please,” she pleaded. “You’re a good and decent person and I can tell that you’re a victim. Help me, please,” she begged, “my brother’s just a kid. Torin and Gage will help you find a way to get rid of this demon. No one else has to die.”
“No.”
“I won’t do it, I hate you…both of you,” Donja sputtered, tears welling in her eyes. “I’d rather die myself,” she mumbled backing away.
“It is better to be hated for what you are,” he growled with a voice that sounded foreign, “than to die a sniveling coward like Zaroc.”
She blinked, unwilling to accept it as fact, shaking her head and then, a gasp escaped her as Zaroc’s face and hands flickered. She narrowed her eyes and it happened again. Suddenly he transformed, his dark skin evanescing to a soft golden tan. She stepped back from the table and bumped into a chair which fell to the side. Stumbling, with a near fall, she righted herself with unbelieving eyes as he completely transformed to Scarface. A scream tore from her. She spun, her heart stampeding, racing for the door.
“We meet again, my pretty,” he said as he moved with lightning speed and blocked the door with his hulking body.
Donja slid to a stop. Fear gripped her like a vice. Weak in the knees, she took a step, backing toward the desk. “Don’t touch me,” she sobbed hysterically.
“Just give me a little taste of that Durent blood, bitch. “I’ve waited so long.”
“No,” she cried, tears welling.