"It led as far as the nearest outbuilding, which happened to be a garage."
Her eyes lifted to the heavens. "Don't tell me. They took off in the witchmobile?"
"Something like that."
Abby sucked in a deep breath. She knew she should be disappointed.
Without the witches, her life remained in danger. All sorts of creepy, icky, semi-dead things would continue to hunt her. And the Phoenix that had taken up residence within her body would continue to refurbish her like she was a cheap dorm room.
But the disappointment that was lodged in her heart felt remarkably like relief.
"So, what now?" she demanded in an effort to sound resigned rather than certifiable.
Lifting his head, Dante sniffed the air. "Dawn will be approaching soon. I must find some place to wait out the day."
"Oh. We could return to the factories."
"I think there might be something closer. Can you walk?"
Her feet had gone beyond pain to a petulant numbness. "I'll make it."
A slow, enigmatic smile curved his lips. "You never fail to amaze me, lover."
Startled by the low words, Abby had no time to demand what he meant before he had a hold of her hand and was tugging her across the clearing to the woods on the other side.
In silence—well, Dante in silence and her with snapping twigs, squishing mud, muttered oaths, and a whimper of pain when she stubbed her toe on a fallen log—they made their way through the darkness. Abby swiftly lost track of time as she concentrated simply on keeping her feet moving forward, but eventually Dante slowed his swift pace.
"Here we are," he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush aside a heavy curtain of ivy that was growing upon the side of a low hill. "Not quite five-star material, but it's dark."
"And damp," Abby muttered as she bent low to follow Dante into the narrow tunnel that led to a small circular opening.
Seating himself on the sandy ground, he gave a tug on her hand, pulling her next to his hard length.
"Look at it this way, at least it's not a crypt," he pointed out in dry tones.
Although not overly impressed with the low ceiling and moss-covered walls, she did have to concede that it was a relief not to have a corpse lying about
"Meaning I should be grateful for small favors?"
"Well, you also have the pleasure of my company. That should make even a damp cave seem like paradise."
"God, you really need to get over yourself, Dante," she muttered, pulling her knees close to her chest and wrapping her arms about them.
Clearly feeling the faint shiver that raced through Abby, Dante shifted to study her pale face.
"Are you cold?"
"A little."
"Here." Wrapping his arm about her shoulder, he tugged her close to his side, his cheek resting on top of her head. "It should warm up as the sun rises."
There was no warmth in his body, but that didn't stop a sudden heat from flaring through her blood. Damn, it had been so long since she had been held in a man's arms, alive or dead. So long since she had felt that heady sense of sated passion.
And she couldn't deny that she had lusted after Dante for months. The dull hunger that plagued her seemed to have no sense of timing, damn it all.
"You should try to sleep," Dante broke the silence, his fingers aimlessly toying with a strand of her hair. "I'll keep watch."
She sternly turned her thoughts to more pressing troubles. Having the hots for this vampire surely came second place to imminent peril.