“Lovely.” With an effort, Juliet rose to her feet, glancing up at the opening far above them. “How are we—”
Her words ended in a small squeak as he shifted with blinding speed to stand directly behind her, one hand clamped across her mouth and his arm wrapping around her waist to tug her against his chest. Bending his head, he placed his mouth next to her ear.
“Ssh.”
He felt her stiffen as she became aware of the ominous foreboding that drenched the air above them.
“What is it?”
Her words were muffled and so low that only a vampire’s heightened hearing could have heard them.
“Death,” he whispered.
“I am desperately hoping that is a metaphor.”
“Only if we are fortunate enough to avoid being caught.”
Keeping his arm wrapped around her tiny waist, he lifted her off the ground and began backing toward the nearby tunnel, calling upon his powers to cloak them in shadows. It would not entirely disguise their scents, but it would hopefully mute them enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention.
Silently he moved away from the cavern, edging deeper into darkness until he at last halted where the tunnel split in two directions. He gently set Juliet back on her feet, but he kept his arm firmly around her, absurdly needing the tangible comfort of knowing she was unharmed.
Glancing over her shoulder, Juliet tilted her chin, refusing to reveal the fear he could feel trembling through her body. His lips twisted as he ruefully admitted that he admired her courage, even as it threatened to drive him insane. After all, if she were a bit more timid they might even now be at his lair, spending the evening in a far more satisfying manner.
Wickedly, intimately satisfying.
“What are we doing?” she demanded.
“Waiting and hoping the creature passes on without noticing our trail.”
She nodded her head, then her brows tugged together as she noticed the thick scents that wafted from the far tunnel.
“Good lord, it smells of…”
“Humans.”
“Terror,” she softly corrected.
His hand cupped her chin as he studied her delicate face. “And what would you know of such a thing, little one?”
“When I was young my parents and I were traveling through Africa. One night we entered a town where a slaver’s ship was berthed.” She shivered. “I will never forget the stench of desperation. It spread through the streets and tainted everything in its path.”
“Your parents permitted you to be near such evil?”
“Actually, my mother used me to sneak aboard the ship and release the shackles that held the humans captive while she cast a spell that made the slavers believe they were being chased by hungry lions.” A small smile of remembered satisfaction curved her lips. “The last we heard, they ran straight into a tribal village that happened to take a very dim view of their townsfolk being sold like cattle.”
A cold fury clenched his stomach at the mere thought of what might have happened to her.
“Your mother sent you alone to release brutalized slaves?”
“She trusted that I was capable of performing an important task as well as teaching me to care for others,” she snapped, the raw wound of her parents’ death suddenly visible in her eyes. “Something I have forgotten far too often since…”
His fingers softened their grip to trail over her cheek, oddly feeling her pain as if it were his own.
“How did you become Hawthorne’s apprentice?”
“After my parents were murdered, I was determined to remain on my own.” A tremor shook her body. “It did not take long before I learned that humans are not the only creatures capable of great evil.”
“You were hurt?”