captive one more time, deciding that the best course of action at this point would be to keep him nice and unconscious until she got back. She sheathed the dagger and went to the dresser at the far side of the room. From the top drawer she retrieved several jars and bottles with the herbs and supplies sheâd need. She tossed a pinch here and a dash there into a mortar and ground them with a pestle until the ingredients were a fine powder. Then she sent some of her own power into the mixture, focusing her energy and drawing on her magic. The sweet tinkling of chimes echoed in her mind as the delicate threads, like spiderwebs, pulled with a slight tug as the magic resisted leaving her body. She coaxed it further and the tendrils drifted from her fingertips and into the stone bowl.
âI wish I could be more helpful, but honestly, just because I supposedly knew your name last night it isnât exactly just cause for chaining me to your bed. Iâm not judging or anything; maybe youâre just into some kinky shit.â The vampireâs tone was a little too playful considering the circumstances. A pleasant tingle drizzled from the top of Nayaâs head to the soles of her feet as she felt his eyes on her. She ignored his comments and continued with her work. âAnd since weâre on the topic of kinky shit, you donât need to slip me a roofie, you know. Iâve never had to be coaxed to cooperate by a beautiful female before.â
Despite his playful tone, she sensed his suspicion. It made the air heavy and thick with tension. Power awakened in him with his anxiety, the sharp twanging tones of the now-off-tune music only she could hear. No time to waste, sheâd be cutting it close as it was. Once sheâd infused the mixture with her magic, Naya scooped a pinch of the powder into her palm. She swiveled her head, took stock of her captiveâs muscular form, and added a second pinch of the powder to the first. Better to give him a little more than he needed than worry about not giving him enough. She clenched the mixture in her fist and brought her hand to her side. Sauntering to the bed with a casual gait, she paused near the headboard.
âWhatever youâre about to do,â the vampire warned darkly, âIâd reconsider.â
Naya worried her bottom lip as she took in the hard line of his jaw, eyes narrowed and brow furrowed. Going against her better judgment, she asked, âWhatâs your name, vampire?â
That sparkle returned to his eyes. âRonan.â
âI never reconsider my actions, Ronan.â Naya brought her fist up to her mouth and opened her hand. Ronan scowled, his eyes flashing silver as he fought against his bonds, the sound of his magic lowering from a soft soprano to a deep, urgent bass. She took a deep breath and blew the powder into his face. The music died, his thrashing ceased, and he lost consciousness.
âHave a nice nap, Ronan,â she said as she turned to leave. âSweet dreams.â
Â
CHAPTER
3
Naya circled the block until she found a parking space in front of the building the tribal elders conducted business in. She got out of the car and leaned against the hood, eyeing the front door. It might as well have been a portal into another land. The structure was one of a dozen old buildings in the area that had been rezoned and converted into office space. On either side were apartment buildings. Each unit housed members of Nayaâs pod. Her own apartment was just down the block in another building. An apartment she rarely frequented lately.
It wasnât any big secret why her pod had taken up residence in California. For centuries theyâd followed the caminos de la magia, invisible highways that covered the globe. Only it was magic that traveled these roads, a trail of bread crumbs called simply El Sendero that the Bororo followed in their eternal quest to protect magic and prevent it from slipping into the