“For now, all I want is to get away from Caine and his goons,” he hedged.
She tried to hide her shiver. “Then shouldn’t we be trying to get out of these tunnels?”
“I don’t doubt we could fight our way past the curs, but they’ll be right on our tails. I prefer to slip away unnoticed.”
Her scowled remained. “What of Levet?”
“The curs have no interest in a gargoyle, and once he comes out the curs will be expecting us to be behind him. Hopefully, it will take some time for them to figure out we aren’t with him.”
She gnawed her bottom lip, trying to find the flaws in his logic.
“Have you considered the possibility that the tunnel might be a dead end?” she at last demanded. “We’ll be trapped.”
Salvatore slowly smiled. “Trust me.”
She snorted. “Not in a million years.”
“We’ll see.” He grabbed Harley’s chilled hand and glanced toward the silent demon at his side. “Go, Levet.”
Tossing his hands in the air, the tiny demon stomped his way down the dark tunnel.
“Go, Levet. Come, Levet. Sit, Levet,” he muttered, making sure his voice carried back to Salvatore. “You do know I am not the dog around here?”
With a roll of his eyes, Salvatore tugged Harley in the opposite direction.
“Cristo. I hope one of the damned curs eats him.”
“You aren’t very grateful,” she predictably protested. The damned gargoyle possessed an unfathomable appeal to the fairer sex. Color him baffled. “He did rescue us.”
“I will give you anything you desire if you keep that our little secret.”
She laughed. “Is the big bad wolf embarrassed to be saved by the itty bitty gargoyle?”
“That itty bitty gargoyle could drive a perfectly reasonable demon over the edge,” he grumbled.
Thankfully, Harley was smart enough to let the conversation drop.
“Always presuming we live long enough to get out of these tunnels, what do you intend to do?” Harley demanded.
Salvatore slowed his pace as the passageway narrowed, batting aside the thick cobwebs.
“First I intend to get you somewhere safe,” he said, too distracted to consider his words. Stupid mistake. “Then I’ll deal with Briggs.”
“Ah. So you intend to unload me on the vampires so the manly man can take care of business without having to tend to the helpless womenfolk?”
He winched at the sugary sweetness that dripped from her voice.
“Briggs isn’t your battle to fight.”
“You can do anything you want to Briggs, but I can keep myself safe, thank you very much,” she snapped. “You aren’t my mother.”
Salvatore was at least smart enough not to press the issue. She would be going to Chicago with Styx. End of story. But there was no need to argue before he could manage to contact the vampire.
“Be thankful I’m not your mother,” he instead distracted her. “Sophia wouldn’t have been pleased at being locked in a cell. There’s no telling what carnage she would have caused.”
Harley stumbled, her breath suddenly ragged. “She’s…alive?”
Something dangerous, almost tender, stirred in the depths of Salvatore’s heart.