Kiss the Night Good-bye

by Keri Arthur

  She shivered and somehow resisted the urge to glance upwards and inspect the roof.

  Michael stopped abruptly. “I smell blood."

  The air smelled no different to her, but she wasn't as attuned to blood as he was. Nor did she ever want to be. “Old or new?"

  He hesitated. “Both."

  "A sacrifice site?"

  "Possibly. It seems to be coming from the right, which means there's probably a junction in the tunnel up ahead."

  "So let's check it out."

  Something sparked through the link between them—a brief surge of resignation and amusement combined. She reached out, trying to touch that spark, trying to bring his awareness of her out into the open. For a moment, their thoughts combined, wrapping her in joy and love, then energy surged between them, and the spark died.

  But not for long, she suspected, barely able to resist the urge to dance. Her Michael was closer to the surface than ever before.

  "You should stay here,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “But I'm guessing you won't."

  "And you'd be guessing right.” She squeezed his fingers lightly. “Can you sense anything else?"

  "At this stage, no."

  He tugged her forward again. They'd barely walked a dozen steps when they reached a T-intersection. There was nothing to be seen either way but more rough-hewn tunnel.

  "Still nothing?” she asked.

  "There's a heartbeat. It's faint, but very fast.” He frowned at her. “Its beat is more one of pleasure than pain."

  She raised her eyebrows. “There's a difference."

  His smile was slow and sexy and made her heart do a dance.

  "Oh, yes."

  "How?"

  "Now is not the time for an explanation,” he said, voice dry. “Perhaps we should see what's going on ahead, first."

  "Then let's do it."

  They moved quickly down the right-hand tunnel. The air became thick and chilled and slapped wetly across her skin. Water splashed into the silence, growing ever louder the closer they got to the source. The rough-hewn walls gave way to natural rock, and the beams supporting the roof became few and far between.

  The tunnel opened into a cavern. Her footsteps seemed to echo, lending the cavern a feeling of vastness. Michael stopped, and his anger boiled through the link.

  "What?” she said, even as she looked up.

  And saw what he saw.

  It wasn't water dripping.

  It was blood.

  Chapter Ten

  Nikki could only stare, wondering if she'd stepped into some macabre version of the Twilight Zone.

  A woman hung from the ceiling. She was naked. Her torso was unmarked and her skin had a bluish tint and was covered with goose bumps. She was hanging upside down, her feet tied and somehow roped to the ceiling. Her arms were free, hanging limply past her ears. Her wrists bore several small cuts, but the blood dripped rather than pulsed down the woman's fingers. Some of the cuts had scabbed over, some hadn't, indicating, perhaps, that the wounds were being monitored and opened when necessary. The woman's eyes were wide open, but unfocused, almost dreamy-looking, and barely audible moans pushed past her bloodless lips.

  They weren't moans of pain, but rather pleasure.

  Nikki swallowed, forcing her gaze away from the obvious bliss on the woman's pale face and studied the thing covering half of her body. It was almost slug-like in form, and it stretched from breast to groin, where its body joined with the woman's. It was moving, squirming, in what looked like ecstasy, its actions matching the woman's pleasured groans.

  "What is that?” Though Nikki kept her voice soft, the words seemed to echo harshly around the cavern, again hinting it was larger than it looked.

  The slug creature obviously wasn't bothered by the fact it was no longer alone. If its movements were anything to go by, the prospect of being watched seemed to excite it.

  She swallowed back bile and pulled her gaze away from the bizarre sight.

  "I have no idea what that is,” Michael said, voice flat and cold.

  But there was something in the way he said it that made her look at him sharply. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and walked further into the cavern. She followed, trying to quell her desire to ask him what he knew. Trying to ignore the strange sounds of lust coming from above them.

  The woman's blood dripped into the middle of a star etched into the cavern's hard rock floor. While the blood glistened wetly, there were deeper, older patches that suggested similar sacrifices had been performed here.

  Around the star was a protecting circle of stones. These were a burnished black, just like the ones that ringed the town, but they were much smaller.

  Nikki put out a hand. Energy crackled through the air, a buzz that got steadily angrier as her fingers drew close to the unseen wall that protected the star. Flickers of blue cut through the air, lightning-like wisps that lashed out at her hand. It felt foul, somehow. Depraved, even.

  She clenched her fingers and dropped her hand back to her side.

  Michael looked up at the woman again. “I think we've found one source of Dunleavy's energy. Whether this sacrifice feeds his demented soul, his dark gods, or the circle you say rings this town, is anyone's guess."

  She nodded, keeping her gaze on the stones rather than the happenings above them. “We can't leave her here."

  "She won't live, even if we do manage to get her down."

  "I don't care.” Facing death was one thing. Doing so while forced to endure the ministrations of something not even remotely human was another.

  She walked past him, closer to the ring. The stones reacted, seeming to glow deep within their black hearts. Sparks crawled across her skin, an unpleasant sensation that made the tiny hairs over her body stand on end. Rubbing her arms, she swept her gaze around the circle, trying to remember everything Camille and Seline had told her.

  There was always a key. Always one stone that could unlock or destroy. All she had to do was find that stone. Not easy to do when they all looked the damn same.

  Her gaze came to rest on the stone on the north edge of the circle. It was a little smaller, a little less obvious, than the rest.

  She walked around to it. There could be no finesse about this. She didn't know enough about magic to dismantle the power of the stones. And brute force certainly couldn't dismantle a circle of this size any more than it could a circle the size of the one that ringed the town. But she'd bet this circle was set up to protect the star and its sacrifice against someone who knew something about the ways of magic, not someone armed with little more than a silver knife.

  Silver was the one thing immune to magic. The only thing that could cut through a magic barrier such as this with the ease of a knife through butter.

  She flicked the knife into her palm and knelt, studying the stone. Wisps of blue arced through the air, their foul energy scorching her forehead.

  "Do you know what you're doing?” Michael asked, from the other side of the circle.

  She met his gaze. “You'd better hope so."

  The thing above them let loose a strange sort of squeal. Nikki's gaze jerked upwards. The slug had disengaged itself and was slithering around the woman's legs, heading for the ceiling. Nikki hefted her knife, in half a mind to throw it, but at that moment, the thing reached the roof and disappeared into a fissure.

  "I'd take that as a sign,” Michael commented blandly.

  "Maybe it's just had enough sex, and the retreat is its version of rolling over and going to sleep."

  A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “I still prefer that you don't do this."

  "You know of any other way to get that woman down?"

  He lifted a hand toward the circle. Energy buzzed, the sound a high pitched scream of fury. Nikki raised her eyebrows. That reaction was far stronger than the one that had greeted her. Maybe Dunleavy had expected Michael to get this far.

  "No,” he said, “I'm afraid I don't."

  "Well, I'm not leavi
ng her there,” she said flatly. “And I don't care what trap Dunleavy has set, I'm going to spring it."

  "Wait—"

  She didn't. She slashed the knife toward the stone, backing the blow with as much force as she could muster. The air screamed, and energy lit the darkness, blue flashes of light that crawled across the blade and up her hand, burning deep. She bit her lip, ignoring the sensation, keeping her eyes on the rock. An invisible force pushed at the blade, momentarily resisting her blow. Then the knife hit the stone, and the force of it reverberated up her arm, jarring her spine.

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then there was a blinding flash, the boom of an explosion, and a wall of heated air slapped across her face and threw her backwards. She hit the ground with a grunt and flung her hands over her head, trying to protect her face. Shards of stone bit through the air, tearing at her clothes, her skin. Then the weight of another hit her, protecting her from the worst of the energy borne rocks.

  After a while, silence returned. Except the silence wasn't really silent, but filled with a dripping far stronger than before. Surely the woman couldn't have had that much blood left, Nikki thought, wanting to look, but at the same time not wanting to. If the force of that explosion had blown her off her feet and back a good ten feet, what had it done to the poor woman hanging above?

  "You don't want to know,” Michael commented, his lips caressing her ear as he spoke. “Are you okay?"

  She nodded, wondering if he even realized he'd read her thoughts. “What's that dripping?"

  "Water.” He lifted himself off her and touched her arm, gently assisting her into a sitting position.

  Despite his warning, she couldn't help looking. What was left of the woman didn't really resemble anything human. Just a bloody, shapeless, mass.

  She briefly closed her eyes, then opened them and took a deep breath. “At least it would have been quick."

  "Yes.” His confirmation didn't ease her conscience any. His thumb brushed at the moisture on her cheek, a gesture as gentle and as caring as the look in his eyes. “You gained a few cuts in the explosion."

  "So did you.” She carefully wiped away the smear of blood from his chin. “Are you hurt anywhere else?"

  "My back.” He shrugged. “Nothing major."

  She gave him a deadpan look. “I saw your version of nothing major with your shoulder. Turn around."

  "I do not think this is the time or—"

  "If you'd just stop arguing about everything and do as I ask, it would have been over with hours ago."

  "As usual, you exaggerate.” Amusement gleamed in his dark eyes as he turned around.

  His shirt was crisscrossed with tears, revealing bloody skin underneath. Nothing deep, as he'd said, but some of the cuts did go through the runes on his back, slicing them apart. Was that why he'd been able to read her thoughts? Was one of the cut sections responsible for the shut down of the link between them?

  "You're right. There's nothing here that won't wait until later."

  "Maybe next time you'll believe me."

  "Not when you have a history of understating wounds."

  She looked past him. The black rocks were no longer in an orderly circle. Of the eight that had been present, she could see only six. Hopefully, the explosion had blown up the other two. Hopefully, it meant Dunleavy wouldn't be reusing this sacrifice site anytime soon.

  She glanced at the roof, this time following the dripping water until she found the source. A fissure had opened up near the southern end of the circle, and the water was pouring steadily from that, washing across the star etched into the rock, bathing away the barely congealed blood. Though she doubted it would ever erase the deeper, darker stains.

  Little rivulets of moisture were beginning to work their way towards her. She pushed to her feet, glad of Michael's support as the cavern spun briefly around her.

  "I don't think Dunleavy will be able to use this place again,” she commented. “The water will make it too difficult."

  He nodded. “I dare say he has other places ready to go."

  "Yeah.” She dusted off her palms on her skirt. “And if they're anything like this, we'd better try to find them."

  He raised an eyebrow. “And what of the two sacrifices you were told to halt?"

  "I'm beginning to think they were merely a means to keep me occupied and off the trail."

  "Believe me, Dunleavy will kill those people if he said he will."

  "I know. But I think we're better off trying to find the source of all his power—and destroying it—rather than running around trying to figure out who is next on his hit list.” After all, they were probably all on his hit list. She was certainly under no illusion that he'd let her and Michael go.

  "We could spend days searching through these tunnels,” he said. “It's literally a maze down here."

  And they didn't have days. Only hours. Forty seven of them to be precise. They had to narrow the search area down. “Where is this cavern in relation to the town?"

  He hesitated. “Somewhere near the eastern edge."

  Meaning that they'd ended up heading away from the Standard mine rather than towards it. “So, if the Standard mine is west, and we know for certain there's a sacrifice circle there—"

  "We haven't actually seen it, so you can't say that for sure."

  "Yes, we can.” Her gaze met his. “He's using compass points."

  "If the magic being used is as large as you say, he'd probably have to. I doubt whether he'd be able to feed it all from one central point."

  She raised an eyebrow. “You think there's a central point as well?"

  "We've already found it. The roof of the whorehouse."

  She closed her eyes and fought the rush of memories, although the man on the roof had died a cleaner death than the woman here. “Would they use it again? They surely must know we've discovered it.” Hadn't that been the whole point in the first place?

  "I think they'll have no choice. Dunleavy probably figures we have enough keeping us occupied to be keeping a close watch on that roof."

  And in reality, he'd be right. “If this place is the maze you say it is, then it might be better if you search alone. Once you find something, you can come back for me."

  "I don't fancy leaving you alone, after what I discovered in Kinnard's hole."

  She raised an eyebrow and mentally asked, Why?

  Energy stirred the air, and his gaze narrowed in sudden concentration. Fighting the spell, Nikki thought. Fighting the commands being placed on him.

  Because it seems Kinnard has taken quite a fancy to you. He answered her question through the link without even seeming to realize he'd done so. Nor did he seem to realize he'd basically recognized that she was the women in the photos and not the woman whose image she still wore.

  And though she felt like dancing at the breakthrough, she controlled the urge. There was still a ways to go yet before he was totally free of the effect of the runes. And until he was, she had to play it carefully. They couldn't afford to have Dunleavy realize she wasn't Seline.

  "I can protect myself. Dunleavy may think he holds all the aces, but I hold one or two little surprises up my sleeve."

  "Yeah, both of them silver.” His tone held a teasing edge. “But those little stickers aren't going to be of much use if Dunleavy decides to send his goons after you."

  "But he won't, because he needs me alive for the ceremony."

  Michael raised an eyebrow. “You willing to bet your life on that?"

  "Yes.” Seline killed Dunleavy's twin. Killed him in the midst of the ceremony and consigned his soul to hell. Which meant Seline had to be at Weylin's ceremony so that he could reverse the spell and bring his brother's spirit back to life. And she was Seline's doppelganger.

  All they had to hope was that Seline was correct in her assumption that the ceremony would fail simply because she wasn't Seline.

  "I'll escort you back to the entrance."

  "No. I can go by myself. We need to find the
other sacrifice sites before Dunleavy has a chance to protect them any further."

  His concern whisked through the link, warming her soul. “I don't think—"

  She placed a finger to his lips, stopping him. “Trust me. I can look after myself."

  It was a phrase she'd repeated often enough, and something sparked in his eyes. Amusement or memory, it didn't much matter which, because he was getting closer and closer to breaking the chains around his memories.

  "Okay."

  He brushed a hand down her cheek, slid it around her neck and pulled her towards him. His kiss was both demanding and passionate. Despite knowing the danger of doing this here, she couldn't help responding just as intensely.

  And with their bodies crushed so close, she was fiercely aware of every part of him. From the rush of longing burning through the link, to the way her breasts crushed against his chest, right down to the restrained hardness pressing luscious heat against her abdomen. His body remembered her, even if his mind was still chained.

  He pulled away with a suddenness that made her gasp softly. Then she saw the fiery glint in his eyes. It was passion and something else. Something far deadlier.

  "There was blood on your mouth, just a smear,” he explained, his voice soft yet strained.

  Yet his teeth weren't extending, even though his demon had risen to the surface. He was gaining control again, despite the spell on his back. She nodded. “I'll meet you back at the house later."

  He stepped away, then stopped again, reaching out to brush a thumb across her mouth. “Be careful."

  "I will."

  He wrapped the shadows around his body, disappearing from normal sight, but not her enhanced sight. He was a whitish blur that ran quickly towards the tunnel and disappeared.

  She bent to retrieve her knife. The blade was nicked, the end broken. Even so, it was a useful enough weapon against a vampire or shapeshifter. She shoved it back into its sheath, walked around the star and headed for the tunnel.

  And tried to ignore the weight of the earth pressing down on her as she made her way back to the entrance.