It was unlikely the cur would recognize Salvatore’s disturbing reaction to the female’s scent. Hess hadn’t even been transformed when the last mating had happened. Not to mention the fact that he was as thick as a stump. But Levet was certainly annoying enough to let the cat out of the bag.
Waiting for the curs to grudgingly shift back, he gave the gargoyle a shake before dropping him onto the ground.
“You—not another word.”
Regaining his balance, Levet glanced upward, his wings fluttering and his tail twitching.
“Um. Actually, I have two words,” he muttered. Then, without warning, he was charging forward, ramming directly into Salvatore and sending him flying backwards. “CAVE-IN!!!”
Momentarily stunned, Salvatore watched in horror as the low ceiling abruptly gave way, sending an avalanche of dirt and stone into the tunnel.
Because of Levet’s swift action, he had avoided the worst of the landslide, but rising to his feet he was in no mood for gratitude. Hard to believe this hideous day had just gotten worse.
Moving to the wall of debris that blocked the tunnel, he sent out his sense to find his curs.
“Hess?” he shouted.
Levet coughed at the cloud of dust that filled the air. “Are they…?”
“They’re injured, but alive,” Salvatore said, able to pick up the heartbeats of his pack, although they were currently unconscious. “Can we dig our way through to them?”
“It would take hours, and we risk bringing even more down on our heads.”
Of course. Why the hell would it be easy?
“Damn.”
The gargoyle shook the dirt off his wings. “The tunnel is clear behind them. Once they recover they should be able to find a way out.”
He was right. Hess might have a brain the size of a walnut, but he was as tenacious as a pit bull. Once he realized he wouldn’t be able to reach Salvatore, he would lead the others back to the cabin and return overland to dig them out.
Unfortunately, it would take hours.
Turning, he glanced toward the stone wall that marked the end of the tunnel.
Whatever exit the cur had used to get out of the tunnel was now buried beneath the rubble.
“Which is more than I can say for us,” he muttered.
“Bah.” With a flagrant disregard to the thin sliver of ceiling that hadn’t yet fallen on their heads, Levet gingerly climbed up the side of the tunnel. “I am a gargoyle.”
Salvatore sucked in a sharp breath. A ton of rock and dirt falling on his head wouldn’t kill him.
Being buried alive with Levet? That would be the end.
If he had to rip out his own heart with his bare hands.
“I’m painfully aware of who and what you are.”
“I can smell the night.” Levet paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming, or what?”
With no other legitimate options, Salvatore awkwardly scrambled behind the gargoyle, his pride as tattered as his Italian leather shoes.
“Damn lump of stone,” he breathed. “Jagr should rot in hell for sticking me with you.”
Nearly flicking Salvatore’s nose with the tip of his tail, Levet continued upward, sniffing the air. He paused as he reached the edge of the ceiling, his hands testing the seemingly smooth rock until he abruptly shoved upward, revealing the cleverly hidden door.
Levet disappeared through the narrow opening and Salvatore was swift to follow, grasping the edge of the hole and pulling himself out of the tunnel.