“Something better,” she assured him, lifting a warning hand. “Stay back.”
“Why?”
“There are spells we have to avoid.”
He watched as she cautiously inched her way forward, her eyes closed as she concentrated on the invisible magic surrounding the small clearing.
“What kind of spells?”
“Most of them are simply to repel stray trespassers. But there are a couple that are dangerous.” She held up a hand, speaking soft words that carried a power even he could feel. After several tense minutes she finally opened her eyes. “I’ve created a small pathway. Follow my footsteps.”
She was forging forward before he could halt her, leaving behind Roke to mutter his opinion of impulsive witches who charged into dangerous situations without concern for the sanity of the poor vampire who was stuck trying to keep her alive.
Carefully following in her path, he battled his way past the relentless weaves of revulsion that managed to leak through Sally’s barriers. The spell was strong enough that he had to physically fight the urge to turn and flee, reminding him just how much power Sally had to expend to keep them from being harmed.
She needed rest and food.
Two things he intended to ensure she had plenty of once they were safe.
Concentrating on the slender form in front of him, Roke pressed forward until they were at last through the magical barriers.
He shook off the lingering strands of magic, moving to stand at Sally’s side as she knelt in the middle of the clearing. She muttered another spell and the ground parted to reveal a large hole.
“This is it?” he muttered.
“Yep.” She swung her legs over the edge of the hole. “Let me go first.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been here since I was sixteen and I can’t be sure whether or not my mother left behind any painful surprises.”
“Sally,” he growled.
“I’ll be careful.” The promise had barely left her lips before she was dropping into the hole.
“Dammit,” Roke hissed in horror, swiftly leaping behind her.
He landed in a surprisingly large room that was lined with thick walls of cement.
“Ta-da.” Sally sent him a mocking smile. “You see, sunproof enough for the fussiest vampire.”
Stepping forward, Roke lifted his brows as he took in the towering shelves that held cans of food as well as bottled water. There was a narrow bed shoved against a far wall and an open cabinet that held row after row of ceramic pots filled with potions, dried herbs, and copper pans for mixing spells. On the top of the cabinet were kerosene lanterns, basic tools, and a first aid kit.
“Your mother built this?”
She shrugged. “Actually, I think it was a bomb shelter before she decided it suited her purposes and claimed it for herself.”
“It will do. At least for today,” he murmured, moving forward to touch the pallor of her cheek. “First dinner. And then bed.”
Chapter Six
Levet surveyed the tangled mass of steel and chrome and rubber that had once been Roke’s motorcycle. A petulant scowl marred his forehead.
It wasn’t his fault.
How was he to know that anyone would be stupid enough to put such a sharp curve in the road? Or that the motorcycle would acquire a mind of its own and fly off the road to smash into a tree?
“Mon dieu. What an absurd machine,” he muttered, well aware that Roke was bound to blame him for the wreck. Vampires were so unreasonable. “Who would build a vehicle with only two wheels? Roke should be happy that I rid him of such a faulty piece of equipment. He might have been seriously injured.”