Circle of Desire

Chapter Thirteen

Ethan crossed his arms and leaned against the damp, cold wall. Janie was a bare ten feet away, sleeping like the angel she was, curled up in a ball around her favourite teddy bear.

He was surprised the monster who'd taken her had allowed her to keep it, especially if Kat was right in suggesting this thing's offspring fed on terror. That in itself suggested she'd been taken for a reason beyond being a meal. He hoped so, if only because it meant she might stay alive a little longer.

God, how he wished he could beat down the wall that separated them, sweep her into his arms, and let her know everything was going to be all right. That he was here and he would protect her against the demons.

But the truth was, he couldn't protect her against those demons. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Kat and her grandmother probably had more chance than he ever would.

He wished the cabin was only a few minutes away.

Wished Kat was coming back right now with whatever she needed to free the girls. He had a bad feeling time was running out.

His gaze drifted to the left. In the other cell lay a second little girl — undoubtedly Karen, the kid they'd failed to save last night.

Like Janie, she was asleep, curled up into a ball. Unlike Janie, she was naked and shivering and crying softly in her sleep. He had no doubt they'd both been drugged. The cave was icy, and neither child had blankets. And it certainly wasn't an environment that induced a restful sleep.

Damn it, they had to get them both out. They couldn't leave either of them here in that monster's grip any longer than necessary. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes had passed. It felt like an eternity.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and studied the two zombies. They stood on either side of the small cells, one of them close enough to turn his stomach with its smell. They'd obviously been around for a while, if the withered, gaunt look to their skin was any indication. Did zombies actually grow old? Did they decay? They were dead, so surely they must, eventually.

He snorted softly at the thought. Two days ago he would have considered himself insane for even thinking something like that. God, what a nightmare this was all turning out to be.

Except for Kat.

He certainly didn't regret meeting her. Or making love to her. She was warm and vibrant and so damn sexy he ached just thinking about her. Her scent lingered around him, a taste of sunshine in the cold darkness. He briefly closed his eyes, remembering the way she looked at him just before she'd left — green eyes filled with a combination of passion and hesitation. Doubt. Her mouth had been so damn lush he'd just wanted to reach out, drag her close, and kiss her senseless.

But that was dangerous. Especially if she wanted to take this whole thing one step further, though it was crazy to think anyone could get so serious in such a short time.

It was a thought that made him smile grimly. He had. It had only taken two incredible days — and nights — with Jacinta, and he'd been ready to commit the rest of his life to her. It was Luke who'd convinced him to wait.

Luke who had picked up the pieces when it all went to hell.

God, he had to save Janie for him. Had to.

Sound scuffed against the silence. He froze, listening intently. It came again — the brush of a heel against stone. Then the smell of death began to invade the air.

The zombies must have awoken and discovered the open trap door.

He swore softly, grabbed the pack and called to the wolf within. Nothing happened. No rush of power, no moment of numbing emptiness as his body reshaped and the wolf formed. The chain . He'd shoved it into his pocket without really thinking about it. He pulled it out and dropped it onto the ground, then reached again for his wild side. It came in a rush of power that was almost overwhelming.

In wolf form again, he gathered the chain in his mouth and bounded up the tunnel. He'd seen a small fissure in the rock about half way down — not big enough to hide a human, but just right for a wolf. All he had to hope was that the zombies had a lousy sense of smell. As much as he liked to think he could handle ten dead men, he wasn't going to take a chance when Janie's life was at stake. Not unless there was no other choice.

The dragging footsteps moved closer. From the sound of it, there were only three coming down the tunnel. He wedged himself into the fissure, keeping low to present a less obvious presence to any dead gaze that might happen his way.

The smell drew closer. But with it came something else, something he'd felt before — in the warehouse, just before Kat and the man he now knew was a vampire had entered.

Heat began to burn against his neck. He glanced down.

One of the stones in the necklace Kat had made was beginning to glow the colour of blood. Hadn't she said the red stone was meant to prevent the Mara from sensing his presence?

Did the fact that it glowed now mean the soul sucker was coming down the tunnel with the dead men?

If she was, he had to hope the stone worked like it was supposed to work. Zombies he could handle, but what hope were teeth and claws against a creature who could disappear into a cloud of smoke?

A zombie shuffled past. It was big and lumbering and looked no more dangerous than a slab of meat. But the dead men he'd fought at the farm house had proven just how deceiving that image was. They might look slow, but they weren't. And they were damn strong.

A second zombie lumbered past. The stone at Ethan's neck burned more fiercely, searing his skin with its heat.

A third appeared — and above its head, tendrils of white smoke slowly gyrated. He didn't move, hardly dared to breathe in case the soul sucker sensed him. But his heart was pounding faster than a damn locomotive, and it was a wonder the creature couldn't hear it.

They disappeared into the tunnel's darkness. He waited until the shuffling steps of the zombies had become little more than a scuff of sound and the burning in the stone had faded. Then he slowly eased out of his hiding spot.

Four figures were silhouetted against the flickering light of the torches at the far end. The Mara had regained human form and was gesturing with one hand. Air shimmered briefly, then the four of them walked into the cavern.

He padded forward quietly, keeping low to the ground and close to the walls. When the shadows began to give way to the light, he stopped. Two of the three dead men who'd accompanied the soul sucker down the tunnel had moved into the cells and picked up the girls. The Mara was talking to the zombie guards. He flicked his ears forward but couldn't hear anything beyond a singsong murmur.

The two zombies with the girls moved out into the main cavern area. The Mara motioned them toward the second tunnel, then her form dissolved and floated after the dead men. One of the guards disappeared inside a cell, reappearing moments later with a box clutched in skeletal hands. Both dead men began to walk toward the tunnel he was in. He cursed softly. While he doubted the Mara had sensed his presence in the tunnel, any delay in following the creature could be costly. It had taken days — and blind luck — to find this hideaway. If he lost them now, it might be the end of any hope he had of rescuing Janie alive.

He turned tail and padded back to the fissure. Water dripped onto his nose as he crouched down. He shook it free and glanced up, noting that the cracks rising from ceiling to roof were oozing moisture. From the look of it, the tunnel slid right under the river in this section. He suddenly hoped whoever was responsible for creating the passageway had allowed enough depth to give the river base support — or the river could end up cutting itself an entirely new path.

The zombies shuffled past. They didn't go far, stopping just beyond his line of sight. They stood there for a good five minutes, their breathing as sharp as their smell, their fingers scraping across the stone. Finally, they moved on.

He edged out. The zombies were shuffling toward the trap door, and one still carried the box. He looked up, but couldn't see anything out of place and wondered what the hell they'd been doing. Something, he was sure of that.

Something that boded him and Kat no good.

For a second, he was tempted to follow them and see what they were doing. Kat was due back down this tunnel in the next half hour, and if the dead men were creating some form of trap, she'd be caught.

But dare he risk losing Janie by watching the dead men?

The answer was a resounding "No." Kat was a resourceful woman, and psychic besides. Surely she'd sense any trap the zombies were laying.

Right now, his priority had to lie with his niece and the other little girl, not with a woman he'd probably never see again once this mess was over.

He turned and padded after the Mara, wondering why the thought of never seeing Kat again churned his gut and made his chest feel tight.

Kat peered down into the dark tunnel from the relative safety of the empty cabin. She could hear no sound beyond a steady dripping, and Ethan's scent was little more than a caress of warmth across the chill air coming out of the tunnel. He wasn't in there, she was certain of that. Did the absence of both him and the zombies mean he'd been caught?

If he had been, he wouldn't have gone down without a fight. But she couldn't smell freshly dead zombie in the air of the tunnel, and surely she would have if there were one or two down there.

She bit her lip. She had an uneasy feeling that it was no longer safe in the tunnel, but unless she went in, she'd never know what had happened. Surely he would have left her some hint, some clue, as to where he'd gone if he hadn't been captured by the zombies or the Mara.

Perhaps shifting shape was the answer… only her back and legs were aching with the strain of carrying the small backpack so far in her claws. She doubted if her raven form would be able to hold onto it much longer without dropping it — and dropping it would shatter the extra sleep bombs she'd collected. Leaving it here while she explored the tunnel was out of the question. If the Mara came back, she'd be left without weapons.

She'd have to risk going in. She really had no other option. Sighing, she grabbed the pack, swinging it over one shoulder before lowering herself into the tunnel.

Her feet hit the stone with a soft thump. She remained where she was, studying the darkness in front of her, listening to the silence. Beyond the steady dripping there was very little sound. The air seemed thick and cold, icing her lungs with every intake of breath. She shivered and was suddenly glad she'd put on an extra sweater.

She rose and cautiously moved forward. The ground under one foot shifted. Something clicked, a sound so soft she might have missed it had she not been so aware that something was horribly wrong. She froze, her heart beating somewhere in her throat and goose bumps chasing down her spine. Nothing happened, yet that sensation of wrongness increased tenfold.

Swallowing to ease the dryness in her throat, she lifted her hand, running her fingers against the damp wall for guidance as she edged forward.

Again, her foot hit something. Again, there was a whisper-soft click.

Apprehension slithered through her. She scanned the inky tunnel, fingers clenched against the urge to release kinetic energy. At what, she had no idea. There was no threat to see or smell or hear. Yet every instinct suggested she was stepping deeper and deeper into danger.

Sweat trickled down her cheek. She swiped at it, then stopped, suddenly aware that it was beginning to get truly hot inside the tunnel. Just like the house…

Apprehension turned to fear. She swung around, knowing she had to get out while she still could, before whatever trap the soul sucker had set could snare her.

Deep darkness slammed down on her. Someone had shut the trapdoor. Cursing loudly, she bolted for the end of the tunnel.

The air around her began to vibrate with energy. The heat increased, until it felt as if her skin glowed with it.

Then everything exploded. She was knocked off her feet by a blast of red hot air and hammered into the tunnel wall. The darkness began to rain on her.

Janie's baby soft scent lingered, giving Ethan a trail to follow. The light of the torches was quickly left behind, but the veil of darkness didn't fully return, lifted by the beams of light filtering in up ahead. Slime hung in tendrils from the ceiling, waving gently in the breeze wafting down the tunnel. Water trickled past his paws, freezing his pads. He half thought about shifting shape, but he knew it was safer to remain as he was, cold paws notwithstanding. The Mara was less likely to be on the lookout for a wolf.

The path came to a junction. He stopped, looking both ways. To his left, warmth and light and the promise of an entrance to the outside world. But Janie and her captors had headed right, up the slope and deeper into the mountain.

Why? The cells in the cavern behind them had appeared secure enough, so what did moving the two girls gain?

Did they suspect he and Kat had found their hiding place?

Or did the move have nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that both girls were food for the soul sucker and its offspring?

Fear began to pound through his veins, and the sensation of time running out increased.

He followed the tunnel, his nails making little noise against the damp stone under his paws. The air grew colder, and the sensation of being very deep under the earth increased. Odd, when the path he followed seemed to be going up rather than down.

The smell of death sharpened the air. He slowed, knowing he had to be close.

Light shimmered up ahead. He stopped, not sure what he was seeing. Then he realized he was viewing the torch through a curtain of water, and the tension in his gut increased. The clothes of the kid they'd found torn apart in the warehouse had been damp. Now he knew why.

He edged closer to the water. The zombies were standing next to a stone table that reeked of blood. Not fresh blood, but old. As if the stone had spent years and years steeped in it.

He couldn't see the two girls, but the soul sucker stood in front of what looked like a second cave, placing small stones across the entrance. When she'd positioned the last one, she made a motion with her hand, and the air shimmered briefly. Another magic wall, obviously. Only this time, he was on the right side of it. With any luck, all he had to do was shift the placement of those stones, and the energy wall would dissipate.

The Mara walked past the old stone table to the other side of the cavern. She stood in front of it for several seconds, then made another motion with her hand. The curtain of darkness that shadowed the wall seemed to flow aside, revealing another tunnel. One that had a slightly phosphorescent glow. He had no doubt a sample would match the material under the second kid's fingers.

The soul sucker glanced at the zombies, and all but one followed her into the greenish passageway. He shifted his feet, itching to attack, knowing this was possibly his best chance. But Kat had said the Mara would know the minute one of the zombies died. Right now, he couldn't afford to do anything that would attract the soul sucker's attention. Not when he was alone and the Mara was so close.

Besides, he doubted if he could outrun the zombies, and he certainly couldn't fight when he was carrying both girls It left him with very little choice. He'd have to wait and see whether the Mara and the zombies intended to leave the girls here, then he'd have to go back and wait…

The thought died as a distant sensation of foul energy vibrated through the air. The hackles along his back stood on end, and he turned, sensing the main source of that power came from behind him.

The buzz increased until the air was thick and electric.

The rock under his feet quivered, and hot air blasted down the tunnel. Then energy died and silence fell once more.

He remembered the fissures he'd seen in the tunnel.

Remembered the zombies stopping. Knew Kat was due back any minute. Felt fear engulf him, a fear that was both his and hers.

His four legs had never moved so fast as he raced back to the tunnel.

Kat thrust upright and swiped at the wetness running down her face. The sound of the explosion still rang in her ears, but it didn't prevent her hearing the rush of water — water that was up to her knees and rapidly rising.

And the tunnel was no longer dark. Dust danced in the golden slithers of light that thrust into the gloom, and even from where she was standing she could see the gray of threatening clouds.

But those same sunbeams allowed her to see the water. It looked as if half the damn river was being diverted into her prison.

She rose and staggered forward. The water poured in through two fissures. They were large enough to thrust a couple of fingers through, large enough for the water to pour in with sufficient force to tug at her feet and threaten to topple her. But not large enough to allow a raven to escape, let alone a human.

Being caught in a tunnel was bad enough. Being caught in a tunnel rapidly filling with water was the stuff of nightmares…

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid pounding of her heart and the fear threatening to lock her limbs.

The water was only at her knees. She had plenty of time to find a way out. She ducked under the water, gasping in shock at its icy touch. But she didn't go more than four steps before she hit a wall of rock. She looked up, studying the roof, noting at least half a dozen fissures that dripped water. Move one rock, and she might just bring not only the wall down but the rest of the river as well.

Getting to the trap door that lay beyond the wall was definitely out of the question.

She turned and went back through the water. The darkness weighed in on her as she moved away from the fissures and the sunlight. She tried to keep her breathing even, tried not to think about the weight of the river above her or the water that was creeping up to her thighs. Tried to think warm, calm thoughts as a chill crept across her skin and made her teeth chatter so hard her jaw ached.

She raised her hands, running one along the wet walls, holding the other out in front as she waded slowly through the swirling water. It wasn't long before she hit something solid — but it was a solid she didn't want to feel. Another wall of rock.

She bit back a curse, ignored the rising sense of panic, and edged sideways. It couldn't be totally solid. There had to be stones she could move. Even if she only made a hole big enough for the water to escape through, it would be enough. Ethan was beyond this wall somewhere. She was sure of that, if nothing else. He'd find her. He'd get help and get her out. If the soul sucker and her zombies didn't find him and the rescue party first.

Rock tipped under her touch. Kinetic energy surged to her fingertips. She carefully withdrew the stone from the pile and tossed it behind her. Water splashed, creating a wave that lapped past her hips. She bit her lip and grabbed another rock, working methodically to create a gap as dust and pebbles rained down on her and the water continued to rise.

Sweat trickled down her face and a pounding ache settled into her head. She was beginning to push her kinetic limits, but she had no other choice. The water was rising faster now, and creating a hole was her only hope of escape. Her only hope of immediate survival.

She pulled out another rock. There was an odd sound, like an old man groaning as he struggled to rise, then rocks and debris began to rain down on her.

She yelped and jumped back. Her feet slipped and she went under the water, the coldness snatching her breath.

Stones rained around her, churning the dark waters, confusing her senses so she couldn't tell up from down.

She tried to relax, tried to let herself float, but a rock hit her shoulder, and she cried out in pain, sucking in water, filling her lungs with ice. Then something hit her head and darkness closed in.

Ethan dropped the chain and shifted shape as he ran into the cavern. Where the entrance of the tunnel had been was now a wall of stone and rubble. He could hear the rushing of water, knew the fissures must have opened in the explosion, providing the river with a brand new course.

A course that might kill Kat if he didn't find some way to free her quickly.

He slid to a stop. Near the very top of the wall there was a small gap. No water escaped through it, which surely meant it hadn't reached that high yet.

He scrambled up, dislodging rocks and slipping in his haste. Stones tore at his hands and arms, but he didn't care. Time was ticking away, and so were Kat's chances of surviving. He had to act fast.

He grabbed the rocks and began throwing them down, rapidly widening the hole. The air that rushed out of the tunnel was thick and cold and filled with fear. Or maybe it was his fear he could smell. His gut churned, and the thought that he might already be too late made his hands shake.

He kept working, shifting a rock, throwing it down, then grabbing another and repeating the process. Over and over, until his arms and back ached and sweat stung his eyes. Water lapped at the widened hole. He climbed a little higher and leaned into the damp darkness.

"Kat?"

His urgent whisper seemed to echo through the darkness.

She didn't answer. The steady rush of water was the only sound to be heard.

He swore and grabbed another rock, thrusting it past his feet. A tremor ran through the rocks, then the whole pile shifted and slipped forward, as if the pressure of the water behind it had became too much. He froze for a second, every muscle tensed as he listened to the groaning. The wall shifted again, this time more noticeably. It was going to collapse… he jumped down and ran like hell.

There was a rumble of sound, like that of an express train bearing down on him, then a surge of water and rock swept him off his feet. He hit the ground with a grunt and was sent tumbling forward, tossed and turned as easily as the boulders that rained around him.

He slithered into a cavern wall, pain blooming up his side. He cursed, but braced himself against the wall and rose. The wall of rock was all but gone, the water rushing down the other tunnel. He couldn't see Kat anywhere.

Pushing away the rising sense of panic, he ran back to the wall and climbed over the few stones that remained.

That's when he saw her. She was face down in the remaining puddle of water, wedged up against the wall.

He grabbed her, pulled her onto drier ground, and turned her over. She wasn't breathing, and her lips were blue.

Panic surged, and he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He knew CPR. He'd done it successfully more than once.

Only this was the first time it had really mattered. This was the first time he was trying to save someone he cared about. He pushed her onto her side, then opened her mouth and checked for obstructions. None.

He began resuscitation. Fear was a knife digging deep into his heart. He didn't want to lose her — not now, not like this. Not ever.

And that one thought filled him with as much fear as the thought of not being able to revive her. But he thrust the fear aside and concentrated on breathing for them both, on willing her back.

For what seemed like ages, nothing happened. He continued CPR and hung on to hope. Then she shuddered and coughed. Water spewed from her mouth. Relief surged, so strong it left him trembling. He thrust her onto her side, holding her while she vomited the rest of the water from her stomach.

"God," she murmured. "I feel like I've been sitting in a freezer for a week."

Her teeth were chattering so hard he could barely make out what she was saying. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

She shook her head and coughed weakly. "What in hell happened to the magic barrier?"

"The Mara came down the tunnel not long after you'd left and took it down. She and the zombies moved the kids to higher ground."

Her gaze met his. The fear still lingering in the green depths of her eyes stabbed through his heart. He ran his hand down to her cheek and brushed a thumb across her cold lips. Lips he ached to kiss. "You up to walking?"

"I think so."

"Good. We have to get you back to the cabin where it's warm."

"We can't. Not until we get those two kids."

He rose, then took her hand and pulled her upright. She hissed, and pain flitted through her pretty eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close.

She was wet and cold, and he wanted her so fiercely his whole body ached.

"You look like something the cat coughed up," he said softly. "I don't think rescuing anyone is really an option right now."

A cheeky smile touched her lips. "So that's a stake in your pocket and not an indication that you might be exaggerating just little about how bad I look?"

He grinned. "It's no stake, and I'm not exaggerating. And I think I'd want you no matter how horrible you looked."

She raised an eyebrow. "The heat of the moon has a lot to answer for, huh?"

"Maybe." But it wasn't the moon surging through his veins right now. It was her presence. Her closeness. He brushed a kiss across her lips and resisted the temptation to do anything more. Now was definitely not the time.

He stepped away. "You're shivering with cold and barely able to stand. There are at least three zombies guarding the kids, and the Mara's with them. I think it's safer to wait until tonight."

"And give her time to set more traps? How sensible is that?" She looked around. "Have you seen my backpack anywhere?"

He ignored the rush of annoyance and said as calmly as he could, "No."

"Then we'd better look for it. We'll need the stakes if the soul sucker attacks."

"Kat — " "No." She crossed her arms, her expression a picture of stubbornness. "We're wasting precious time standing here arguing, you know."

"I can pick you up and carry you out."

"And I can slap your ass across the cavern and go on by myself."

And she probably would, if he didn't give in. "God save me from obstinate women," he muttered and swung away to find the backpack.

It was wedged into what remained of the fissure he'd hidden in earlier. He swept it up then walked back down to her. "At least get out of those wet sweaters."

She raised an eyebrow. "And run around the tunnels topless? As much as you might enjoy that, I don't think so."

"As much as I definitely would enjoy that, that wasn't what I meant." He took off his coat. His shirt was relatively dry, and if he got too cold, he could always shift shape. "Wear this."

She hesitated, then handed him the pack and quickly exchanged her sweaters for his coat. Though it was loose everywhere else, the coat squashed her glorious breasts flat, and she glanced up with a grin. "Well, I guess this proves your chest is not as large as mine."

"I'd be worried if it was."

He handed her the pack and she got out several stakes, handing them back to him. She pulled out one more, shoved a couple of chains and what looked like stones into her pocket then tossed the bag aside. "Everything else is smashed."

Little wonder, given the small space the backpack had ended up in. "You ready to go?"

She nodded. He caught her hand and led her toward the exit, only to stop when the smell hit.

"That's not good," she said softly.

It certainly wasn't.

The cavern beyond was filled with dead men.