It does, indeed, he told her. It might take us a while to find the right tunnel, but if we keep the room as our reference point, sooner or later, we’ll be able to find the right one. Can you get us back there?
She nodded. I kept mental track of my turns.
There was approval in his gaze when he glanced at her. Good job.
When he started forward again, he followed her directions. Right, right and across. At that latest one, he cocked his head. Why didn’t you go right again?
She shook her head with a shrug. I didn’t realize at first how big the tunnel system was, so I was making decisions on instinct instead of some kind of well-thought-out plan. I was afraid if I took too many rights, it would lead me back to where I started.
Fair enough. He shone the flashlight both ways down the intersecting tunnel.
What happened to the stealthy someone? she asked.
I don’t know. There’s an echo down here. It could have come from farther away than I thought. Or he might have stopped moving.
That sounded a lot more sinister than she would have liked. If the feral had stopped moving, that might mean he was lying in wait somewhere.
She glanced over her shoulder. Beyond the range of her flashlight, the darkness looked as solid as a curtain. It seemed to have personality, like it was watching her. She studied the darkness carefully but saw nothing.
For the first time, she realized the ferals had to exist in total darkness most of the time. The cavern where they had been feeding had been lit, but she suspected the torches had been more for Justine and Anthony’s benefit, whereas the feral Vampyres would know every nook and cranny in the tunnels like the back of their hands.
After checking both ways, Julian stepped forward, and she followed.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement. Even as she turned her head to look at the feral that had dropped from a shadowed hollow in the ceiling, Julian sprang forward to engage.
Another feral dropped down and leaped after Julian. They had coordinated an ambush.
As soon as the realization hit, she whirled in a complete circle, her stake out and ready as she looked for the third.
He rushed out of the darkness, not from behind her, but from the tunnel ahead. She had never faced one without the barrier of bars between them. Terror flared, followed by a surge of rage.
She was done with being scared of these things. Done.
He came at her so fast, she wasn’t sure she could stake him accurately in the heart — and she didn’t dare get into such close quarters with him and miss, or risk getting her stake caught in his chest.
Leaping and pivoting at the hip, she went into a roundhouse kick that clipped the feral in the chin and knocked him back against the tunnel wall. He rebounded immediately — but that time she was ready for him. Even as he reached for her, she grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him toward her while she drove the stake into his chest.
For a moment she stared into the feral’s red gaze. She found herself searching for any sign of the personality he had once had, yet she saw nothing but madness in his eyes. As he bared his fangs at her, he collapsed into dust.
She turned just in time to see a snarling Julian in midlaunch toward her, easily two-hundred-plus pounds of deadly Vampyre male, complete with red eyes and fangs.
Flinching back against the wall, she gasped, “Holy shit.”
He landed in front of her, slapping one hand against the wall, so close that his body pressed hers against the cold stone.
“Jesus,” he said roughly. “I thought he had you. I thought I was going to be too late.”
Any other time, she might have slapped him with a retort for thinking she couldn’t take care of herself. But this time, she felt a shudder wrack his powerful frame as he sucked in an unsteady breath, and she realized he had been terrified for her sake.
Leaning forward, she put her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m all right,” she told him in a soft voice as she rubbed his broad back. “Everything’s okay.”
Still breathing hard, he buried his face in her hair and held her tight.
An odd kind of peace stole over her.
Maybe they weren’t going to have sex again. Or even if they did, maybe they wouldn’t be together for long.
Maybe they would never get over what had happened before. Earlier, when she had given him her truth, he hadn’t said whether or not he had believed her. Even now, after so long, their conversation remained unfinished.
But she did believe in one thing now.
Wherever she was, and whatever kind of trouble she might get into, he would always come for her to make sure she was all right.
Because he really did care for her at least that much.
Eleven
After a moment, she lifted her head.