Not that he was particularly surprised. He’d suspected from the beginning that the curs’ confidence that they could defeat a pureblooded Were was more a product of their mutual arrogance than genuine skill.
But he’d at least hoped they could disable Caine long enough that he could get his hands on the prophet and disappear from the cellar.
Now Ingrid was down and out for the count. Dolf was pinned to the ground with the Were’s fangs clamped in a death lock on his throat.
And the witch was trying to wriggle her way into the narrow cell with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner headed to the gallows.
The temptation to simply walk away from the unfolding fiasco screamed through him. He could return to his lair and pretend he’d never been near St. Louis. Unfortunately, he couldn’t be certain that Caine and Cassandra would do him the service of actually killing the Three Bumbling Amigos. And if one survived, they were bound to squeal to the Dark Lord.
Then . . .
He shuddered, unwilling to imagine what might happen. No. He couldn’t run. But he was still too weak to battle an enraged pureblooded Were. So now what?
Lost in his dark broodings, he was caught off guard when Sally gave a sudden war cry. Or he assumed that’s what it was supposed to be. To be honest, it sounded like a bad imitation of Tarzan.
Gaius watched in disbelief as the witch darted toward the female Were and grabbed her by the ponytail, giving it a violent tug.
Had she gone mad?
Clearly as baffled as him, the prophet shoved the female away with more confusion than actual fear. Her protector, however, didn’t give a shit what Sally was trying to do and, after giving the unconscious Dolf a toss to land on top of Ingrid, Caine turned his lethal attention to the witch.
Sally screeched as he snapped his bloody fangs directly at her face, and she charged out of the cell with a speed that was considerably faster than the pace she used going in.
Nothing quite like having a Were trying to bite off your head to offer a bounce to your step.
Heading directly toward him, she waved a closed fist in the air. “Get us out of here.”
He scowled, silently hoping that the rabid Were managed to strike the killing blow.
Of course, he couldn’t be so lucky.
Clearly wounded, the animal refused to give in to his bloodlust. Instead, he remained in the doorway, resolutely protecting his companion rather than yielding to his primitive instincts.
Bastardo.
Cursing in resignation, Gaius moved to stand beside the mangled curs who were neatly piled next to the shelf. Then, wrapping his fingers around the medallion that hung from a chain around his neck, he waited only long enough for Sally to reach his side before muttering a word of power and surrounding them in mist.
A spectacular f**k-up from start to finish.
Caine had a vivid memory of his battle with the two curs. The taste of their blood as he’d ripped out chunks of fur and flesh. The sound of their howls of pain. And the scent of their escalating desperation.
But he hadn’t managed to entirely avoid injury. And while none of his wounds were life-threatening, they were all leaking blood at a rate that was rapidly stealing his strength.
Grimly ignoring his increasing weakness, he managed to drive away the human witch before his legs collapsed beneath him. His head hit the cement of the floor with enough force to briefly knock him loopy and when he at last managed to clear the fog, it was to discover he’d shifted back to human form and Cassie was kneeling beside his na**d body.
“Caine.” She tenderly brushed the hair from his sweaty forehead. “We have to get out of here.”
“Yes.” His voice was hoarse, but he sensed that most of his wounds had sealed shut during his shift. Unfortunately, it would take time to completely heal. Time he wasn’t sure they had.
“Let me help you,” Cassie murmured, slipping her arm beneath him as he struggled to stand.
“The vampire?” he rasped, his blurry gaze searching the seemingly empty cellar.
“He disappeared.”
Reluctantly allowing Cassie to take the majority of his weight as they stumbled toward the tunnel, he frowned at her vague response. “Which way did he go?”
Her arm snaked around his waist as they entered the tunnel, her lavender warmth wrapping around him. He sucked in the sweet scent, hoping to ease his wolf ’s rabid fury.