And that she was not alone.
She might have screamed if a rough cloth had not been tied over her mouth.
A man was standing directly before her. Or at least he appeared to be a man. She was not about to be overly hasty in handing out species assignments after the past few days. And there was something very nonhumanlike about his pasty white skin and hairless head.
And of course there was his outfit.
What sort of man wore heavy robes and a medallion that looked as if it had been ripped off some sports car?
Even as the aimless thoughts floated through her mind the thing reached up to stroke a finger down her cheek. Abby gagged at the clammy feel of his touch, desperately wondering where Dante was.
He had to be near, she told herself. Perhaps even now plotting her rescue.
She didn’t for a moment consider the fact he might be injured. Or, God forbid, dead.
That path only led to stark, raving madness.
Instead she glared at the man who was regarding her as though she were a bug pinned beneath a microscope. An apt description considering she was tied so tightly to the pole she could barely even blink.
“Such power,” he purred in an oddly mesmerizing tone. “She hums with it. It seems almost a pity to have her slain.”
Slain? Abby groaned through the rag stuffed in her mouth. She didn’t think she was tied up for a surprise birthday party, but slain?
Damn Selena and those witches. She was obviously here to be served up like a Thanksgiving turkey for the Prince.
Hurry, Dante, she silently willed. Please, God, hurry.
Another face suddenly popped into view. This one belonged to a woman not much older than Abby with a pale, pointed face and a dark cloud of hair. She might have been attractive if it hadn’t been for the unnatural glitter in her brown eyes.
“She doesn’t look all that dangerous,” the woman scoffed.
The man shot her a condemning glance. “Because, like most, you see only with your eyes, Kayla. A weakness that I have warned you of more than once.”
“It hardly matters. She’ll soon enough be dead.”
Abby didn’t like the woman’s flippant tone. She made it sound as if they were taking out the trash rather than committing cold-blooded murder. With a flare of anger, she wondered if she could fry the bitch like she had those zombies.
“Yes, soon.” The hairless stranger glanced toward the burning fire. “The summoning of the dark lord has begun.”
“Shall I call for Amil and the vampire?”
Dante. Abby briefly closed her eyes as relief surged through her. He was near. And any moment he was going to charge through the door to kick some serious ass.
Unaware of his danger, the man allowed a peculiar smile to tug at his lips.
“Not just yet. I am waiting for the appropriate moment to . . . reward my loyal acolyte.”
Something in the oily tone caught Abby’s attention, stirring the hairs on the nape of her neck. The young woman, however, merely smiled.
“You have honored me by requesting my presence.”
“I assure you that your presence is essential.”
The dark eyes smoldered with a hectic fire. “We shall be blessed above all others.”
“Yes, indeed.”
There was a sound across the chamber, and Abby shifted her gaze to discover two shadowed forms standing near the corner. They were shrouded from head to foot in heavy robes. No doubt a good thing. Abby didn’t hope for a moment they were actually human.
The woman seemed no more impressed than Abby, and her lips curled as she waved a hand toward the silent witnesses.
“Shouldn’t you be sending away those . . . pests? You surely don’t want them around when his lordship returns?”
“They are essential as well.”
“Why?”
“You will discover soon enough.”
The woman gave a harsh sound of annoyance. “I hate this waiting.”
“Patience possesses its own rewards.” Still studying Abby, the man seemed to stiffen, his head swiveling toward an opening near the servants.
The woman frowned. “What is it, master?”
“I sense a . . . disturbance. Return to Amil.”
“Now? What if the Pr—”
A cold chill abruptly filled the air. “I said return to Amil.”
Both Abby and the strange female blanched at the frozen edge in his voice. It was the voice of a man who would kill without thought or hesitation.
“Of course,” she babbled as she gave a deep bow and hurried from the room.
Seemingly having forgotten Abby for the moment, the man studied the flickering flames.
“Nothing can stop me. Not now.”
Chapter 13
Dante was waiting for the woman. She passed his shadowed form without noticing, and then it was far too late as he swiftly moved to sink his teeth deep into her throat. He was incapable of drinking human blood, thanks to the witches, but it didn’t halt him from ripping out her throat.
Without even glancing down, he dropped her lifeless form to the ground and returned to the shadows to watch his arrogant partner in crime stride into the large chamber before them.
It had been child’s play to convince Amil to release him from his chains. Evil always turned on itself, and the ambitious pup wasn’t entirely stupid. He knew quite well his master wouldn’t hesitate to feed him to the coming Prince. It was precisely what he would do given the chance.
And thankfully his puffed-up pride made him believe he could control a mere vampire.
A mistake Dante was quite willing to encourage. At least as long as he dutifully distracted the mysterious master and allowed Dante to slip away with Abby undeterred.
Should he stand in the way, Dante would ensure he made an early trip to hell.
Moving with a silence no human could match, Dante slipped behind Amil as he crossed to stand before a thin, older man draped in heavy robes. The master. Dante narrowed his gaze as he sensed the power that shimmered about the wizard.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Dante slipped deep into the shadows that surrounded the cavern. He had no desire to confront the magician directly. Not when there was a danger he might be killed before freeing Abby.
The thought of Abby made his gaze instinctively move to where she was tied to the post. He had deliberately avoided regarding her too closely. It was enough to know she was alive and seemingly unharmed. To dwell upon her obvious distress would only distract him at a time when he desperately needed to keep his mind focused.
Clenching his teeth with a cold fury, he continued through the shadows, moving toward the two robed servants who stood only a few feet away.
Across the chamber, Amil at last confronted the dark wizard. “Master.”
An icy tingle of power scoured the air, making even Dante shiver.
“Why are you here?” he charged. “Where is Kayla?”
Too stupid or too arrogant to realize just how overmatched he was, the younger wizard gave a low chuckle.
“The last I saw, she was being ripped into shreds by a very angry vampire.”
There was a furious pause. “You allowed the beast to escape?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Amil drawled.
Stepping directly behind the servants, who had not yet noticed his presence, Dante reached out to wrap his arms about their throats. With one smooth motion, he twisted both their necks until they cracked, and he lowered them to the floor.
They had never seen death coming, and he was one step closer to freedom.
There was a sharp hiss from the master. “You fool. You stupid, greedy fool.”
“No, not a fool,” Amil denied. “At least not fool enough to allow myself to become mere fodder so you can wallow in your own glory.”
There was a startled beat, as if the master hadn’t expected his student to realize his ultimate fate.
“Ah, perhaps not such a fool after all
,” he whispered in cold tones. “Tell me, Amil, what do you intend to do?”
“What I should have done to begin with. Kill you and offer the Phoenix to the dark lord myself.”
Not surprisingly, the proud boast brought only a laugh from the older man. “Kill me? You?”
“You are weak from your battle with the witches,” Amil boasted, causing Dante to pause in the shadows.
So, the wizard was responsible for the carnage at the coven. Bloody hell. The sooner he could get Abby out of this cavern the better.
Sinking back into the shadows, Dante began to inch his way behind the wizard.
“You can barely conjure enough power for a summoning spell,” Amil continued his taunting.
What might have been a smile curved the thin lips as the wizard grasped the medallion about his neck.
“Not so weak as you believe.” Pointing toward the younger man, the wizard struck.
Abby was well aware there was some mystical battle brewing between the two robed men. It would be hard to miss when the younger of the two abruptly slammed against the far wall only to scramble to his feet and lunge toward the older man.
Her attention, however, was not on the dueling wizards.
She had sensed Dante the moment he had entered the room. Fierce, near-heart-stopping joy had rushed through her as she had at last spotted him creeping through the shadows.
He was alive and free and on his way to sweep her away from this horrible place.
Then her joy had faltered when the light had flickered and she had seen the wet crimson that stained his shirt. Vaguely she recalled the young man in robes claiming a vampire was ripping the woman Kayla to shreds, but somehow she had not connected it to Dante. Not until she watched as he slipped from the shadows to dispatch the servants with swift and lethal ease.
He was silent, gliding death. A ruthless killer who stalked his prey without mercy.
A chill shot down her spine as she studied the alabaster features set in a pitiless mask and the eyes that glittered with a frozen silver fire.
This was the vampire he had warned her of.
The demon who lurked beneath the image of a man.
Another chill shot through her.
But not out of physical fear. Perhaps it was ridiculously naïve, but she didn’t believe he would harm her. Or at least not intentionally.
It was more the knowledge that she had come to think of Dante as . . . what?
Her boyfriend?
Her lover?
God, she didn’t know.
And now was not the time to consider such idiotic thoughts, she told herself with a mental slap.
For God’s sake, if Dante didn’t get her untied and out of the cavern, she was about to become a midnight munchie for some evil spirit. Surely that was more important than her love life?
There was a furious screech and sounds of scuffling from the two men battling in the middle of the chamber and a prickling feel of electricity in the air, but Abby refused to take her gaze from the ever-approaching vampire.
As long as she kept Dante within sight, she knew she was safe.
A ridiculous certainty perhaps, but what was a terrified, soon-to-be-sacrificed woman to do?
Unable to even whimper with the gag stuck in her mouth, Abby watched Dante move closer. His silver gaze held her own, as if compelling her not to panic.
Yeah, right.
Only the ropes binding her to the post kept her from crumpling onto the ground so she could babble in terror.
Abby Barlow, savior of the world.
Careful to avoid the raging battle in the center of the chamber, Dante flowed through the shadows. Her heart nearly halted when he disappeared behind her. Oh God. She couldn’t see him. What if he disappeared? What if there were more evil baddies hiding . . .
The feel of cool, slender fingers on her wrist put a swift end to her crazed thoughts. Abby would have wept in relief if she hadn’t realized they were still far from safe.
The ropes slithered to the floor, sending painful prickles through her arms as her blood was allowed to rush through her veins. She felt Dante’s lips at her ear as he struggled to remove the gag from her mouth.
“Say nothing,” he breathed, waiting for her nod before allowing the disgusting rag to fall away.
Abby sucked in several deep breaths as she stepped from the post and directly into Dante’s welcoming arms. He gathered her close, as if sensing she would collapse without his support. Her weakened state, however, didn’t keep him from forcing her wobbly legs to carry her toward the narrow opening across the chamber.
She bit her lip to halt her instinctive protest. She had been tied to the post for hours, and her entire body felt as if it had been ridden hard and put up wet. Still, she had no more desire than Dante to linger in this damp cell.
Not when that pasty-faced moron considered her a yummy treat for Prince Badass.
They had reached the narrow opening when a hair-raising scream rose behind them.
“No!” the younger man screeched. “I surrender! I—”
There was a horrid gurgling noise and then a whiff of what might have been scorched flesh.
Abby gagged even as Dante roughly tossed her over his shoulder and bolted down the dark corridor.
On this occasion she didn’t even notice the nausea at the swaying motion. That was one good thing about absolute, mind-numbing fear. It tended to put everything else into perspective.
Moving through the darkness with a speed that defied the law of physics, Abby silently prayed to every god and deity she could think of. It seemed an appropriate moment to cover all the bases.
Really, when it came down to it, who knew?
Time had no meaning, but slowly she began to sense they were moving steadily upward. Then, without warning, she felt the unmistakable brush of fresh air upon her cheeks.
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, she breathed heavenward.
They were out of the dismal cavern.
And best of all, there seemed to be no sign of any sort of pursuit.
Still, Dante’s pace never slowed. Seemingly unaffected by her weight (a sop to her vanity at any other time), he charged through an overgrown cemetery and past an abandoned church. She thought she caught sight of a handful of shabby houses, but they passed in such a blur it was impossible to be certain.
It was not until they were well away from the cavern that Dante at last slowed and gently lowered her to her feet. Abby instantly swayed, and his arm lashed about her waist to keep her upright.
“Are you harmed?” he growled, his hand grasping her chin to tip her face upward for his inspection.
She shivered beneath the compelling glitter of the silver gaze and then forced herself to relax.
This was Dante.
The beautiful, incredible vampire who had just saved her life.
“Nothing that twenty years of therapy won’t cure,” she retorted in a voice that was not quite steady. “Who were those freaks? Demons?”
His nose flared with smoldering fury. “They were human enough. Mortal disciples.”
Well, that wouldn’t have been her first guess.
“Disciples?”
“Worshippers of the Prince,” he clarified. “You would call them wizards.”
Her lips twisted. So much for kindly old men with long white beards and a twinkle in their eye.
“Which would explain the magic, I suppose.”
“Magic more powerful than a mere human should be capable of possessing.” His brows drew together as if the thought troubled him. Which in turn troubled her. A lot. “It was the elder wizard who attacked the coven.”
“Dear God.” She shuddered in horror at the memory of what he had done to the witches. How could any human commit such atrocities? “He was going to feed me to that . . . shadow.”
“Yes. With the Phoenix destroyed, the Prince would walk the world freely once again.”
“A wizard. Just perfect.” She gave a shake of her head. “I s
uppose he’ll be in line with the demons and zombies chasing us?”
“Hopefully not immediately. The battle with the witches and young Amil will have left him weak. I don’t think he will be eager to face me just yet.”
Her gaze unconsciously darkened. “No, I wouldn’t think he would be in any hurry.”
It took a beat before he abruptly grasped her shoulders in a firm grip. His beautiful face was somber in the muted moonlight.
“I did warn you, Abby,” he rasped. “I’m a vampire. A predator. Nothing can change that.”
Instinctively she lifted her hand to place it against his cheek. His skin was chilled and smooth beneath her palm, sending a familiar excitement through her body.
“I know.”
With a gentleness that made her heart leap, he smoothed her hair behind her ears.
“Did I frighten you?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted in low tones.
Something that might have been pain flared through his silver eyes.
“I would never harm you. No matter what happens.”
Held close to his hard body, she didn’t have a moment of doubt. “That is not what I feared.”
“What is it?”
“I just realized you were right. We’re very different. God, I’m not sure we’re even the same species.”
His arms shifted to tighten about her waist. “Different, but bound together, lover. At least until the Phoenix can be handed to another.” He held her gaze with ease. “Will you trust me, Abby?”
There was no hesitation. “With my very life.”
Oddly her swift assurance made him stiffen. As if he had been caught off guard by her ready trust.
“I . . . oh God, Abby, if only you knew,” he muttered, lowering his head to press his lips tenderly against her mouth.
Abby readily arched against him, her arms encircling his neck. Dear God, she needed him. His touch. His strength. His comfort.
Softly he soothed the horror of the past few hours, his lips stroking over her mouth, his hands gripping her hips.
Tilting back her head, she moaned as he turned his attention to the sensitive curve of her neck, nibbling at the pulse that raced with soaring excitement.
“If only I knew what?” she questioned breathlessly.
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