Page 362 of Primal Bonds

Chapter 23

A few tardy snowflakes sifted down as Cleia and Dion slipped out the back door of her mansion for a morning stroll, leaving Brisa to eat breakfast under her nanny’s watchful eye. Cleia loved Rising Sun in the summer, when the gardens were a mass of colorful blooms, fruit swelled in the trees and the surrounding meadows were a soft, fecund green. But the overnight snowfall had touched the grounds with a sparkling wand, turning the gardens into a sugared wonderland.

Dion steered her onto a little-used path and pressed her up against a tree. His mouth took hers in a lazy kiss. She slid her hands under his leather jacket and kissed him back. Even with a nanny to help, a busy toddler meant they didn’t have much time alone.

A low, sexy growl. “I could take you right here,” he said against her throat, “if it wasn’t so cold.”

“Who’s cold?” Her hands went to the zipper of her own jacket…and then fell away.

Rosana’s in trouble.

Cleia clutched Dion’s shoulders, ears straining.

His hands tightened on her waist. “What’s the matter?”

She held up a hand, silently asking him to wait. A full thirty seconds ticked by before she gave up.

“It’s Rosana.” She swallowed hard. “Something’s wrong. She called my name—four times.”

“Where?” he bit out.

“Not close by.” She scrunched her brows, focusing. “Somewhere south of here. Virginia, or maybe southern Maryland. It was quick—a brief touch, and then nothing.”

Their eyes met. They’d spent the night at Rising Sun. Neither of them had seen Rosana since yesterday afternoon.

Dion muttered a nasty Portuguese curse. “She’s supposed to be at the base.”

“I’ll ’port to her.”

“Take me.”

She nodded and took Dion’s hand and teleported to the approximate location she’d sensed Rosana.

They were on a narrow country road, although that didn’t stop cars from hurtling past. A field of dormant winter wheat stretched along one side of the road, and on the other, stubbled cornstalks marched off to the horizon.

Dion turned in a circle, scanning the area. “We’re still in Maryland, about five miles from the Potomac River. What in Hades is she doing down here?”

“I don’t know,” Cleia said. “But she hasn’t tried to contact me again.”

His nostrils flared. “I can’t pick up her scent. But if she was in a car, she wouldn’t leave one.”

Cleia narrowed her eyes to the south, as if she could somehow see where Rosana was now. “New Moon is right across the river in Virginia.”

“I know.” Dion glared in the same direction. “If that fucking cabrão thinks he can use my sister as a bargaining chip…”

Cleia’s stomach hollowed. It was exactly what a night fae would do.

“We’ll go after him with everything we have. Rosana isn’t just your family, she’s mine.”

“I know. And I’m grateful, querida.” Dion squeezed her hand. “But first, let’s make sure that’s where she is. Take me back to Rock Run. I need Rui—his shark can track anything.”

“At least she has my protection charm. It’ll give her an edge.”

He nodded, expression grim. Humoring her.

Because they both knew Rosana might not be wearing the charm.

They found Rui in the training cave. The shark fada had once been Rock Run’s top assassin until the job had taken its toll. These days Rui spent his time training the younger warriors, a position to which the hard-faced, taciturn man had taken like a duck to water.

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