by Jami Gray
The evening light began to retreat before the coming night, deepening the shadows around the ramshackle structure. Gavin disappeared around the back of the shack, only to reappear on the far side a few moments later. His mental voice cut through her thoughts. “We’re clear.”
Raine had to admit that the intimate tie they shared was coming in handy. Even if it occasionally gave rise to distractions in the form of some unexpected fantasies. Tuning out her wayward thoughts, she broke cover, careful to keep her footsteps light, as she made her way to him. “Anyone inside?”
“Not sure.” He stared at the seemingly empty cabin, his brow furrowed. “Something or someone is in there. Just can’t get a read on it.”
She stopped next to him as they stayed in the shadowed depths crowding the side of the cabin. “What’s the plan?”
“You take the far side of the door, and I’ll get the lock.”
She nodded and went to step forward, only to stop when he grabbed her arm. She shot him a questioning look.
“Be ready,” he cautioned.
Thrilling at the male concern he didn’t bother to hide, she found it amusing that he, of all people, would worry about her. Turning a little more, she pressed a quick kiss to his unsmiling lips then hid her small grin as she left. Like the Wraiths they were, they flowed silently into position.
She called on her inner cat’s night vision. Her surroundings morphed into shades of yellow, red, and green. Keeping her back flat against the rough boards next to the door, she dropped her wrist blade into her palm while Gavin worked the lock. In moments, the quick snick of the lock releasing sounded. He pushed the door open and she glided inside.
Crouching beside the door, she scanned the room. Although her night vision allowed her a more detailed picture of her surroundings, it was just enough to know that nothing resembling prey lingered here. “Clear.”
As he moved inside, she kept an eye on the sparsely furnished room even as she straightened, tucking one wrist blade back into its sheath. Cupping her palm she uttered, “Tachair.”
A ball of soft white light blinked to life, and her vision adjusted to normal. Setting it to hover behind her shoulder, she surveyed the interior. In a rough kitchen, a rickety table sat near a small sink and what looked like a two-burner camping stove. A black, pot-bellied stove, and its matching pile of chopped wood, took up one corner. Shoved against the far wall was a cot with a ratty-looking blanket.
Striding over to the cot, she used her blade to draw back the blanket, uncovering an abandoned animal nest. She turned to Gavin. “I don’t think anyone’s been here for quite some time.”
Shutting the door behind him, he prowled the room, his frustration mounting. “Something or someone is here,” he growled.
Not wanting to crush his fragile male ego, she wisely refrained from pointing out the obvious lack of anything living, except maybe the bugs. As he completed another circuit of the one room shack, she re-sheathed her other blade.
He stopped in front of the stove and dropped into a squat. His fist clenched, and a tingling rush brushed over her as his magic scoured the area. When his eyes narrowed and a predatory grin crossed his face, she perked up. He motioned her over. “Check it out.”
He pulled her in until she stood directly in front of him. The line of warmth curling along her spine fractured her focus. It would be so easy to lean back into that tempting heat, but she crammed her heightened awareness of him down. She needed to concentrate on what he was trying to show her. Lowering her protective shields, she slipped into their bond and found what caught his attention.
Anticipation coursed through her, setting her instincts on point. Barely discernible under the woodpile was a small warp in the way his magic flowed, as if it hit some sort of barrier. She took a step forward, only to be stopped by his arm at her waist. Leaning forward she tried to bring the warped image into clearer focus. “What is that?”
“A keyed ward.” His voice rumbled behind her. “It’s meant to only work for whoever set it.”
Straightening, she studied the strange weave. “Can you get through it?”
He hesitated. “It wouldn’t take long.” He let her go and crouched next to the woodpile. “Do you see anything else?” His question was carefully neutral.
She looked at him, wondering at his tone, but couldn’t read anything in his face. “Like?”
“Cheveyo?”
The obviousness of his question made her wince. Turning back to the woodpile she concentrated on the lines tracing though the shack. This time she narrowed her focus to Cheveyo’s earth tone hues, allowing her shields to drop a bit more. When her magic didn’t surge to the forefront, a tremor of nerves sprung to life. She took a deep breath. Now was not the time, nor the place, to doubt herself or her ability. Her magic was just strained, not crippled.
Working carefully, she finally unearthed the tie linking her and Cheveyo, hidden under the overlying power of the ward. Excitement stirred. Gavin was right, someone was here, and she was betting it was Cheveyo.
This time, the weakened tie didn’t startle her. Not wanting to endure another attack by the chindis or whatever the hell else might be lying in wait, she reached for Gavin. Their connection sparked and strengthened. Together they sent a gentle push down the line, keeping in mind the fragile nature of the magic stretching between them and the witch.
Trying to follow its path, she wasn’t surprised when she couldn’t get beyond the strange warp of the keyed ward. Blinking, she found herself on her haunches before the woodpile with Gavin behind her. “We have to get this wood moved.”
They cleared the wood in a matter of minutes and revealed a trap door nestled in the floor. She reached to pull it up, but Gavin’s quick reflexes stopped her hand inches away from the handle.
“Ward!” he snapped.
She fought the color stealing up her neck at his reprimand but kept her mouth shut, realizing her careless impulse could have caused irreparable damage. Jerking to her feet, she stalked away to lean against the far wall, her arms crossed across her chest. Gavin stayed in front of the trap door as she studied the boards between her boots. Impatience beat at her, but she accepted that his caution was a necessary evil at this stage.
It took longer than she expected before he rose to his feet.
Straightening from her slouch, she caught sight of his pale face as he turned to her. Setting her earlier annoyance set aside, concern rose and she moved to him. “Gavin?”
“I’m fine.” His voice was rough.
She gently snagged his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze, and let her silence speak for her.
He leaned into her touch. “I’m fine.” This time his voice was a bit stronger.
Smart enough to know when arguing with his indomitable male ego was a lost cause, she sighed. She’d just have to keep an eye on him. She peeked around her shields and noted that the strange warping was gone. In its place were the now familiar traces of Gavin’s magic and deep in their midst, she saw Cheveyo’s telltale color.
She moved back to the trapdoor, her hand hovering above the grip. She looked at Gavin. “Ready?”
At his nod she pulled the door open. The damp smell of wet earth and cold underground air wafted through the opening. Directing her globe of light down into the dark maw, she rubbed at the aching mix of anticipation and trepidation clawing at her stomach. The steady light illuminated the dirt floor and dug out walls of crumbling dirt.
Seemingly undaunted, Gavin braced his hand on the floorboards next to the opening and leapt down. He landed on the balls of his feet, his knees bending to take the brunt of the impact. When he rose to his full height, she realized the tunnel was taller than she had first thought. He looked up. “You coming?”
Her feet hit the dirt and even with bent knees, the impact jarred her. Rising, she noticed that the sphere of light hovering near them didn’t make much of a dent in the darkness stretching down the tunnel. Uneasiness crept over her.
Some long dormant i
nstinct began buzzing under her skin, chittering along her spine. The darkness could hide so much, and you never knew what was coming at you, until it tried to rip your face off.
Under normal circumstances, the idea of walking into the foreboding tunnel might give her a reason to pause, but she could do it. Unfortunately, the last few days had been anything but normal. Her magic was iffy at best, and her confidence in her ability to defend herself and those around her was seriously undermined. Her safety net of anger was riddled with huge gaping holes. Perhaps moving forward was not such a wise idea.
The shocking unnaturalness of her last thought pulled her up short.
Her sharp intake of breath brought Gavin around to face her. “What’s wrong?”
Unable to figure out what was triggering her internal alarms, she ignored him. Instead, she set her back against the dirt wall directly under the trap door. Instinct dropped her wrist blades into place. The feel of leather wrapped metal against her palm helped stem the rising uneasiness. She was under some sort of attack. The paralyzing self-doubts didn’t belong to her. Since she couldn’t see any physical manifestations of an attack, she let her shields drop and the magical world snapped into view.
Gavin’s bright form blocked her line of sight. Hissing in frustration, she sidestepped him, aware on some level that she and her leopard were both staring out at the psychic light show.
A hand wrapped around her wrist and, caught in the strange spell, she twisted, yanking free. She spun around, her blade poised to slice through the threat, but found herself trapped in steel bands. The sudden sense of being forcibly restrained separated the woman and cat. The sundering of her two halves fractured the cloying web of the spell. Her face was pressed into a firm chest while her blade hand was locked behind her back, her wrist held immobile just below her shoulder blades.
Reality returned.
“You back?” His gentle voice was a heady contrast to the controlling grip on her wrist. The tension in her body dissipated, only to be replaced by an erotic heat. His hold caused her to arch into him, spiking her blood pressure. Her head fell back and she tried to breathe through the sudden, sharp arousal.
In the flickering light, his gaze darkened and focused on her parted lips. Lust left his body hardening against hers. Held as she was, she felt the low rumble of a distinctly male growl reverberate against her chest before he claimed her lips with a power that stole her breath.
He took control, allowing her only to respond. His tongue delved deep, demanding she follow. Heat and fire rushed in, burning away her will. There was no teasing, no gentleness in his possession. It was a claiming, a male dominating his female. There was no option but to give in to what he demanded, no space for second thoughts or muddied emotions. Pure sensation dragged her under as the raging desire consumed her.
Lost in the heat of his kiss, she forgot her surroundings, wanting only to quench the wildfire spreading through her. His ravaging mouth moved down her neck, the sensation so primal, she could only moan. He released her wrist. The sound of her blade tumbling to the ground couldn’t stop her from using her new found freedom to tangle her hands in his hair.
When his lips covered hers again, he teased and tempted until she became the aggressor, forcing him back against the wall of the tunnel. She ravaged his mouth with the sole goal of driving him mindless. Freeing one hand from the silky strands of his hair, she ran her nails down his T-shirt-clad chest. A sense of feminine triumph rose as she wrestled another low growl from this alpha male. Nipping at his lips, she stroked him, moving down until his hardness filled her palm. Her low groan was drowned out by his.
He moved liked lightning, capturing both hands and spinning her until her back hit the wall. His forehead pressed against hers, his wide chest heaving as his eyes burned into hers. “Damn, you tempt me.”
Between her primitive mind wailing in frustrated need, and the strident voice of reason reminding her of where she was, it took a moment to find her voice. “You started it.” There was no hiding the painful ache in the words.
The devilish grin he gave her didn’t help. “I promise to finish. Later.” The dark vow made her tremble in a purely feminine reaction.
They stared at each other, both fighting to get their flash-fire lust under control. Slowly, he stepped back. She was perversely glad to see him wince and adjust his jeans. She dropped her gaze, hoping a change in scenery would allow her to regain her sanity.
Her blade glinted from the dirt floor. Sighing, she bent down to retrieve it. Dear gods, if the heat between the two of them kept rising, she was in serious trouble. Hysterical humor had her lips twisting as she considered the wisdom of taking a vacation purely so they could spend some quality time in bed and possibly burn this fire out.
“As much as I enjoyed that,” he said, watching her, “are you okay?”
Keeping as much careful distance as she could within the confines of the tunnel, she nodded. “I am now. It was just…” She trailed off, uncertain how to continue.
“What?” he prompted.
“I got down here, and suddenly the thought of going through that tunnel scared the shit out of me.” She didn’t hide the defensive anger in her voice. She didn’t like being scared, something he was highly aware of.
He looked into the heavy darkness stretching in front of them. “Maybe it was part of the warding.”
She raised an eyebrow, feigning mock disbelief. “You missed something?”
He didn’t bother to respond to her taunt. Instead, he sent his magic to probe around them. She cursed at the sudden sensation of ants biting her skin.
“Hold still,” he said. “I’ve got to make sure it’s gone.”
Pure force of will kept her motionless, trusting whatever he was doing was necessary. Within moments, the uncomfortable stinging feeling faded away.
“Remnants of a spell,” he explained.
“A human can’t ward or set a spell like that.” She followed him into the tunnel’s darkness.
The small orb of light glided ahead of them nudging the inkiness back a few feet at a time. “Adds weight to Ransom not pulling this off on his own.”
There was some relief in validating one of their theories.
“Yeah, but we still need to figure out who was pulling his strings.” Gavin’s voice was muffled as he forged through the dugout passageway.
“I know.” She picked her way over the rough ground while keeping pace. Since she hadn’t fared so well in her previous encounters with the Soul Stealer and the damn chindis, the thought did not inspire confidence.
As the tunnel made a sharp right, a cold breeze caught them unawares. He jerked to a stop while she quenched the small fey light with a thought. Shadows seeped around them. The breeze came again. Peering down to the far end of the tunnel, she noticed a faint difference in the darkness.
“Can you see anything?” His question filtered through their bond.
Moving up beside him, she dropped her shields. There was a moment of anxious anticipation before both her magic and her leopard surged forward. Gently, she urged her cat into the background, not trusting its more instinctive responses. Especially now, when caution was key.
Gathering her magic, she sent it out to search. The world spun. Faster than expected, she stood before the door leading to Cheveyo. He was so close. Fighting the urge to let him know they were just on the other side, she took a moment to center herself.
A delicate touch was needed if she wanted to accomplish this without alerting the Soul Stealer. Double-checking her anchor to Gavin, she drew on his strength and control. Slowly, she began to send her magic through, using the mental equivalent of scratching at the door.
Dear gods, please let Cheveyo hear her. Nerves stuttered beneath her forced calm. Minutes ticked by with no answer. If she didn’t get something soon, she’d be forced to open the door regardless of what was waiting on the other side.
Just when she began to give up, she felt a faint responding pulse. Worry spiked. It
was so weak. This was not good. This close, Cheveyo’s response should be stronger. Possible scenarios ran through her mind, filling her with dread. She kept a light level of energy flowing and slowly backed away from the door. She and Gavin needed a plan because she was damn certain Cheveyo was out of time.
Back in the tunnel, her shields in place, she felt Gavin’s stillness as he considered the situation. She marveled at how fast he weighed and discarded various scenarios as she studied the plan forming in his mind.
Together, they moved forward, each taking a side of the tunnel. Her blades were in her hands, while his remained sheathed along his spine. He began amassing his magic, the surrounding earth making it both faster and easier. Without their small light, her night vision was back in full force.
The tunnel ended in a roughhewn opening. Letting him watch her back, she stepped to the opening and hugged the rock edge as she surveyed the chamber. The slight lightening of the dark wasn’t due to any light source, but the empty space framed by a massive rock dome. Gazing up, she made out a small opening letting the air circulate. The night sky seemed tiny, dwarfed by the darkness of the cavern.
Scanning the massive room, she found a faint tone of orange huddled near the far wall where something warm blooded clung to life. She had a horrible feeling she knew who it was. Dread echoed down the magical tether to Gavin.
The hair at the base of her neck rose as her night vision crumbled under the psychic onslaught of Gavin’s magic. His power ripped through the shadowed web shrouding the underground cavern. Blue fire began devouring the strands spanning the entire cavern.
As difficult as it was, she left her end of the bond wide open, trusting his ability to shield them both. He continued to battle the writhing strands as her doppelganger made a reappearance. Leaving this part of the battle to him, Raine used the distraction to swiftly cross the dirt floor.
