“Well?” Styx demanded, appearing even more ferocious with the large sword he clutched in his hand. Talk about overkill.
Dante shook his head, frustration etched on his too-beautiful face.
“It will be impossible to track him.”
“I can find him,” Harley said, squaring her shoulders as all eyes turned in her direction.
Darcy lifted her brows in surprise. “How?”
“I…feel him.”
Styx scowled. “This could be a trick.”
Harley wasn’t stupid. She’d already considered the possibility that someone or something was messing with her. And a part of her wasn’t entirely adverse to the thought that this was a devious spell. Otherwise she’d have to accept that she had a connection to Salvatore that went way beyond a casual lover.
“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around her waist as a cold chill raced over her. Damn, it felt as if the temperature had dropped by a dozen degrees. “I have to do this.”
Styx shifted his attention to the goddess at his side. “Abby, do you sense anything?”
“Evil.” Abby shuddered, her face paling to an unhealthy shade of gray. “God, it’s so thick I can almost taste it.”
“Take her home, Dante,” Styx growled.
Abby jutted her chin. “No.”
Dante ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Abby.”
“This is my duty.” Abby pointed a warning finger in her mate’s face. “You know it.”
Dante threw his hands in the air. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Oddly fascinated by the sight of the mighty vampires bending to the will of the tiny woman, Harley was caught off guard by the faint scent that briefly stirred the air.
Somehow sensing Harley’s sudden surprise, Darcy took a step in her direction.
“Harley, what is it? Salvatore?”
“He’s here.” Harley breathed deeply, shaking her head when the scent evaporated as swiftly as it had appeared. “But I sense another presence.”
“The demon lord?”
“No. It’s familiar.” Harley deliberately paused. “Like you.”
Darcy’s eyes widened at the implication another sister might be near.
“Oh, my God. Are you certain?”
Harley shrugged. The scent had been so fleeting it was impossible to be absolutely certain.
Moving toward the nearest tunnel, she attempted to determine where the smell had come from when she was struck by a sharp wave of panic.
She faltered, glancing around in confusion.
She would swear that Salvatore was attempting to warn her. But of what?
There was a baffled moment as she simply stood at the mouth of the nearest tunnel, wondering what the hell was going on. Then, as she once again shivered at the thickening chill in the air, realization belatedly hit.
Briggs.
Turning her head, she sent her sister a frantic gaze. “Run!”
Chapter Eighteen
Harley was remarkably unfazed as the flash of magic exploded through the cavern and the ceiling promptly collapsed. Of course, she’d endured a number of explosions and cave-ins over the past few days. Maybe she was becoming immune to disasters.
Sending up a quick prayer that the others had managed to escape, she darted into the tunnel and ran from the choking cloud of dust and debris. Only when she was certain that she was beyond the collapsing ceiling did she slow her pace and pay attention to the confusing warren of caves and passageways.
The burning need to find Salvatore continued to plague her, but she wasn’t stupid enough to rush blindly through the dark. Briggs was somewhere crawling through the shadows, not to mention a demon lord, and who knew what other nasties.
Contrary to popular opinion, she didn’t need anyone telling her to be careful.
Pulling the silver knife from the holster her sister had fitted around her ankle before leaving Chicago, Harley allowed the sense of Salvatore that echoed in her blood to lead her through the cold, oddly barren passageways.
She felt like a damned homing pigeon, she ruefully acknowledged, wondering if Salvatore was deliberately doing something to afflict her with this overwhelming need to find him. That suspicion was certainly preferable to the thought that this growingly desperate urge was coming from her.
Coming to a halt as the tunnel branched into three separate directions, she hesitated as she caught the faint whiff of cur. It was muted, but unmistakable.
Alarm raced through her.
She wanted to believe that the curs were Salvatore’s servants who were here to rescue him, but that would be way too convenient for her current streak of luck. Besides, Salvatore had been adamant in not allowing his pack near. Not when they could be used as a weapon against him.
Which could only mean that they were either strange curs, or ones under the control of Briggs. And yet another danger to have to worry about.
Perfect.
Gripping the knife tightly enough to make her knuckles crack, Harley swallowed her reluctance and forced her feet forward. She wasn’t opposed to killing a few curs who got in her way, but she suspected that Salvatore would blame himself if anything happened to them.
And that bothered her, why?
Harley gave a shake of her head. She might as well accept she was currently out of her mind. It would be easier than trying to make sense of her recurring bouts of crazy.
Prepared for an ambush, Harley cautiously followed the sharp curve in the tunnel, halting in surprise when an oversized, bald-headed cur staggered toward her.
Her first thought was that he was stark naked, as if he’d recently shifted. Her second thought was that he was taking up way too much space for one man. His shoulders almost brushed each side of the passageway. And if his head hadn’t been bowed and covered by his hands, she suspected it would have been in danger of bumping the ceiling.
Warily, she watched as he weaved and stumbled toward her, muttering beneath his breath.
Okaaaay. If this was an ambush, it was the strangest one she’d ever heard of.
The cur had nearly reached her when he belatedly realized he was no longer alone. Jerking his head up, his eyes flashed crimson and his lips curled back in a snarl.
“Just hold on, Rambo,” Harley held up her hands in a nonthreatening motion. Well, nonthreatening if you didn’t count the big knife. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
The cur tilted back his face to sniff the air, and Harley realized that he was bleeding from a wound on the temple and that the left side of his face was a painful shade of black and blue. He looked like he’d just come out the loser of a Bully Beatdown.
“You’re not Darcy,” he at last growled.
“No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered, not entirely reassured by the knowledge he was familiar with her twin.
Would she be able to tell if he was under the influence of Briggs?
“Who are you?” the cur demanded.
“Darcy’s sister, Harley. And you?”
“Hess.” He sucked in a deep breath, coming back from the edge of shifting. Not that he was any less dangerous. “Why do you smell like Salvatore?”
Hess. The name clicked into place.
Salvatore’s most trusted soldier.
She could see why. He was a freaking mountain of muscle.
“The idiot seems to think I’m his mate,” she said.
His brow furrowed, as if stumped by her explanation. “Weres can’t mate.”
“Yeah, well, that’s something you need to take up with your king.”
“Salvatore.” Instantly distracted, the cur slammed his fist against the stone wall, his expression twisted with regret. “Shit.”
Harley instinctively stepped back. “What?”
“I attacked him. Christ, I knew he was my master and I still tried to kill him.” He stepped toward her, his expression wild. “I couldn’t help it. I swear to you, I couldn’t help it.”
Anger exploded through Harley
. Damn Briggs. He had to know that forcing Salvatore to hurt his own pack was the worst torture that Salvatore could endure.
“Save your pity party for later. I need to find your master,” she snapped, sensing that Hess was in need of a strong leader, not a shoulder to cry on. A good thing. She wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of gal. “Where did you see him last?”
As hoped, Hess was jolted out of his shame and squared his shoulders in determination.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, the muscles of his jaw knotted as he struggled to control his emotions. “He knocked me out during our fight and when I woke up, he was gone, so I took off. I wasn’t going to risk being used against him again.”
Which explained the bruises and his stumbling.
“How did you get here in the first place?”
He growled, his eyes flashing red. “Caine.”
Stupidly, Harley was caught off guard. It wasn’t that she thought Caine was above using and abusing his fellow curs. He was so lost in his delusions of grandeur that he was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything to make his vision come true. But he usually preferred to leave the grunt work to others.
Precious Caine didn’t like to get his hands dirty.
“Someday soon I’m going to rip out his treacherous heart,” she muttered.
“Not if I find him first.”
“Did Caine kidnap anyone but you?”
“Three others.”
Harley grimaced. “Where are they?”
“The cur had us in silver cages before the whacko Were came to take me away.” He waved a hesitant hand to the left. “That way…I think.”
Harley didn’t fault him for being confused. The place was like an endless maze of barren stone.
“Go find them and get them out of here,” she commanded.
Hess instantly bristled. “No, if you are the mate of Salvatore, he’d kill me if I let something happen to you.”
Harley swallowed the urge to tell him exactly what he could do with his macho bullshit. It didn’t matter that she could kick this cur’s ass with one hand tied behind her back. Just because she had a uterus rather than a cock meant he had to protect her.
Instead, she simply outwitted him.
Not a particularly difficult task.
“Do you truly think you would be of any use to me if Briggs decides to take control of you again?” she demanded.
Hess scowled. “He won’t…”
“Look, we’re wasting time,” she interrupted, her tone warning he was taking his life in his hands to argue with her. “You know that it isn’t safe for you to be around Briggs.”
Hess folded his hands over his massive chest. “How do you know he can’t control you?”
“My connection to Salvatore protects me,” she blatantly lied. She wouldn’t let herself consider the possibility. “Go rescue the others.”
There was a brittle silence, then with a foul curse, Hess swept past her, headed for the entrance of the tunnel.
“I’m going to be pissed if you get yourself killed and I’m blamed,” he muttered.
Harley rolled her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Waiting until she was alone in the tunnel, Harley sucked in a deep breath and continued her nerve-wracking journey. She hated feeling as if she were buried alive in this endless web of caverns. The vamps could have the dark and dank, as far as she was concerned. She wanted the open sky overhead, and a fresh breeze filling her lungs.
Ignoring the growing chill that prickled over her skin, Harley headed deeper and deeper into the darkness, losing track of time and direction as a creeping sense of claustrophobia threatened to choke her.
She concentrated on keeping her heartbeat steady and one foot moving in front of the other, her years of training at last coming in handy as she flowed silently through the empty tunnels.
On the point of turning back and trying another path, Harley caught the unmistakable scent of smoke. It wasn’t exactly proof positive that Salvatore was near, but it was the first indication she wasn’t completely alone in the barren hellhole.
Following the smoke, Harley slowly entered the large cavern, her heart coming to a complete and perfect halt at the sight of Salvatore laid out on a stone altar, his blood dripping into a blazing brazier.
A savage, astonishingly protective fury ripped through her. Christ, his body was being destroyed by the heavy silver chains wrapped around him, and his beautiful face…it was dangerously pale from the rapid loss of blood. Dammit. She wanted to rip off Briggs’s head. She wanted to feed his putrid heart to the rats. She wanted…
Her heart twisted.
She wanted to snatch Salvatore off the ghastly altar and take him far away from this cavern.
Checking the impulse to rush across the seemingly empty cave, Harley forced herself to pause and use her brains. Hey, there was a first time for everything.
Spreading out her senses, she searched for any hint of danger. It should have been simple. Beyond the altar and brazier the vast space appeared to be empty. But she knew from bitter experience that Briggs had the ability to pop in and out without warning.
When there was no smell of rotting meat and the air remained chilly, but not icy, she took a cautious step forward. She had taken her second step when Salvatore’s head abruptly snapped in her direction, his eyes widening with unexpected panic.
“Harley, no,” he growled.
“Listen to him, Were,” an ominous voice rasped through the air. “A step closer and I’ll kill him.”
Harley sucked in a sharp breath, belatedly catching sight of the shadow that hovered above Salvatore.
She knew instinctively that the…thing wasn’t Briggs using his hocus-pocus. The thick power that suddenly pulsed through the air had nothing to do with Were, and everything to do with pure, undiluted evil.
This had to be the demon lord that Styx feared.
Or at least a portion of his essence.
She briefly stumbled, her mouth dry with sheer terror. Deep in her heart, she understood she was in way over her head. What the hell did she know about battling a demon lord? Or a zombie Were, for that matter.
Then gritting her teeth, she ignored her perfectly reasonable fear and instead concentrated on the scent of Salvatore that at last broke through the dampening spell.
“You’re going to kill him anyway,” she accused, continuing forward.
“True, but you can save your own life,” the voice promised. “Just turn and walk away.”
“No.”
“Dio, Harley, do as he says,” Salvatore rasped, struggling against the silver chains. “Get out of here.”
“Listen to your mate, female,” the demon lord warned.
“Go to hell,” she muttered, her gut clenching as Salvatore abruptly screamed in agony, his body contorting as if it were being tortured by an unseen enemy. “Shit. Just hang on, Salvatore. Do you hear me?”
Despite his obvious pain, Salvatore’s golden gaze never wavered from her.
“Please, go. I can’t bear…”
“Shut up, Your Majesty. I’m not leaving.”
Unable to halt her by punishing Salvatore, the demon lord turned his attention in Harley’s direction. She was mere steps from the altar when a bolt of energy smashed into her with enough force to send her to her knees.
Salvatore cried out. “Harley.”
She pushed herself upright, jerking as another bolt slammed into her. Pain exploded through her body, but she refused to go down. Just a few more steps. And then…
Then what?
She didn’t have a clue what she was going to do when she actually reached Salvatore, she only knew that she had to get to him.
Jagged shards of agony burrowed into her bones, making her movements awkward, and black spots danced before her eyes, nearly blinding her. Distantly she could hear Salvatore’s ragged breaths and the low moans that were coming from her own throat, but she refused to focus on anything but putting one foot in front of another.
Demon lord or not, she was too damned stubborn to concede defeat.
There was blood dripping from a dozen small wounds, and Harley suspected that more than one bone was cracked by the time she at last reached the altar.
Once there, she realized that Salvatore looked even worse than she felt.
The dark hair was matted with blood, and his face was an alarming shade of gray. And his poor body…
She shuddered at the charred flesh, unable to imagine the agony he must be enduring.
Instinctively she reached to offer comfort, her hand lightly touching his shoulder.
Her fingers had barely brushed his skin when the black shadow that had wrapped around her gave a bloodcurdling scream. Harley leaned protectively over Salvatore, convinced that her eardrums were about to shatter.
What the hell was the matter with the thing?
Trying to prepare for whatever the demon lord intended to throw at them, Harley barely noticed the tingling sensation beneath her palm. Why would she? She tingled whenever she touched Salvatore.
But as the tingling became more pronounced and a strange heat raced up her arm and through her body, Harley pulled back to meet Salvatore’s startled gaze.
The shadow that had been tormenting her had seemingly vanished, although Harley didn’t believe for a moment that it had truly disappeared. No doubt it was revving up for something even more horrible. But for the moment, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except the warm awareness that flooded through her.
Good…God.
Her wolf impatiently prowled beneath her skin, growling with a need she didn’t understand. It was as if her beast were anxiously searching for something just out of reach.
Shivering, she met Salvatore’s glowing golden gaze. She could sense the power of his wolf reaching out to her, brushing over her skin and cloaking her in his familiar heat. But more than that, she could feel him flowing through her fingertips and into her bloodstream.
Like warm honey, the feeling of Salvatore poured through her, marking her in the most intimate way possible. Harley made a sound of shock, but deep inside, her wolf howled in satisfaction, the restless ache that had plagued her being replaced by a stunning sense of…rightness.
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