Harley grimaced, feeling as if she had been dipped, dredged, and battered in grime.
“This someplace better have a shower.”
Salvatore grunted, managing to shove aside the rock. Then, without hesitation, he pressed himself through the narrow opening. Harley rolled her eyes as she hurried behind him. Clearly it didn’t occur to him to allow her to take lead, despite the fact he looked close to total collapse.
Typical.
He’d rather fall flat on his face than admit he needed a woman’s help.
She had always suspected that testosterone sucked any common sense from the male brain.
Entering the cramped chamber carved in the dirt, Harley paused to take in her surroundings. Not an overwhelming task. There was nothing more than a pile of stones in one corner, and across the room, an opening that revealed some roughly carved stairs.
She had, however, heard Caine speak of his various spiderweb of tunnels, and she knew there was more here than met the eye.
“The stairs,” Salvatore muttered, heading toward the opening.
“Hold on.”
His expression tightened with a weary impatience. “Harley.”
“Caine always keeps stashes hidden, in case of a hasty exit,” she said, moving to the loosely piled stones. Her kick held considerably less impact that Salvatore’s, but it was enough to send the rocks flying to reveal a pile of objects that had been hidden beneath them. “See?”
Moving to her side, Salvatore reached to pluck the two loaded handguns off the ground, surprisingly shoving one into her hand before tucking the other into his waistband at his lower back.
The large ivory-handled dagger disappeared into a holster beneath his tattered pant leg, but he appeared far more interested in the tiny silver medallions that were half-buried beneath the dirt.
Most people would dismiss them as pieces of junk. A stupid mistake.
“I recognize these,” he said, gathering the medallions in his hand, a smile of satisfaction curving his lips.
Harley shrugged. “Amulets.”
He tilted one of the amulets to display the odd symbol etched into the thin metal.
“Caine’s cur pack used these to hide from me while they were in Hannibal.”
Abruptly, Harley realized that Salvatore’s scent had disappeared. Completely and utterly.
“Holy shit.”
“Here.” He pressed an amulet into her hand. “Keep it on you.”
She absently tucked the amulet into her sports bra, unnerved that Caine had possessed such a powerful tool that he’d never bothered to share with her.
But why should she be surprised? Caine had never been subtle in his obsession to keep her from slipping away from his control.
This amulet would have offered her the opportunity to escape without fear.
“No wonder Caine keeps so many witches on his payroll,” she gritted, annoyed that she’d been so easily fooled.
“I thought he took them to his bed.”
“Fringe benefits.” She shrugged. “Or at least they seem to think so.”
The golden gaze studied her with an unwavering intensity. “But not you?”
“I’m not interested in being the flavor of the month.” She met his gaze squarely. “For any man.”