Shouting a string of what must have been curses, his friend sprang forward, but Logan pushed the first guy into his companion.
They both went down. The one with the knife wound stayed on the ground, blood oozing from the front of his shirt. The other picked himself up and faced Logan, his eyes narrowed and his face red.
"This is where you die," he growled, raising his weapon and slashing downward.
The spikes grazed Logan's arm, and he winced in pain as he dodged aside. He was in no shape to fight this guy in human form. Taking a chance on his other alternative, he danced back a few yards, then dropped the knife and began ripping off his shirt.
"Oh, shit," baseball bat muttered.
Ignoring him, Logan began to say the words of transformation.
"
Taranis, Epona, Cerridwen
," he intoned, then repeated the same phrase and went on to another.
"
Ga. Feart. Cleas. Duals. Aithriocht. Go gcumhdai is dtreorai na deithe thu
," He was still wearing his pants, but he knew from past experience that the wolf's body could slither out of them.
The man gasped and took a step back. Logan tried to focus on him, but it was hard to see as the structure of his eyes changed.
He felt his muscles contort, his jaw lengthen. The change was always painful, but the place where the jaws of the trap had dug into his flesh throbbed with agony.
Baseball bat could have run. Instead he chose to stand and fight. Even before the transformation was complete, Logan felt the guy leap forward, knocking him backward.
Snarling in pain and anger, Logan went for the man's arm, his jaws clamping down.
The assailant screamed, flailing at the wolf with his good arm, desperation fueling the attack.
Logan felt his strength ebbing. He wouldn't have bet that a man could win a fight with a werewolf, but knew it was happening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LOGAN CLAMPED DOWN with all his strength on the man's arm. If he was going to die, tie would inflict as much damage as possible before he went out. Just as his jaws began to slacken, he saw a figure leap from the shadows.
It was Rinna.
She came up behind the assailant and brought a massive rock down on his head. A crude but effective maneuver.
The man went still, and Rinna yanked him off the wolf, then tossed him to the ground.
"Come on," she shouted.
When she took off in the direction of another ruined building, he was right behind her, running on all fours.
In wolf form, he should have been able to outrun any human. But he had trouble keeping up with Rinna, and his lungs were burning by the time they ducked into the shelter of another bombed-out structure.
Panting, He lay down on the pieces of charred wood that littered the interior of the building.
Rinna let him rest for a few moments. Then said, "What in the name of Carfolian Hell were you doing outside?"
He didn't like getting chewed out—not when he'd almost gotten killed. And, of course, he couldn't answer in his present form, so he stood up. Taking a step back, he said the words of transformation in his head, feeling the change take him again.
The pain in his injured leg was worse now that he had disturbed the tissue. But he gritted his teeth as he faced Rinna.
She had something in her left hand, and when she tossed it toward him, he realized she'd snatched up his pants before dashing away.
He pulled them on.
"How did you get outside? And what were you doing out here?" she repeated.
"I followed the old man through the entrance. Something was wrong with him."
"You're lying!"
"No."
"Haig wouldn't go outside with you there."
"See for yourself."
"I will."
She turned and started running back in the direction of the cave, looking to left and right as she went.
Luckily no other enemies sprang up during the short trip back to the shelter.
Logan kept up with Rinna as best he could. As soon as she reached the rock wall, she pressed her hand against the vertical surface.
The door opened as he had seen before, and she dashed inside. He followed, and this time he understood better how to ignore the sensation of the force field trying to hold him back.
Rinna looked wildly around the front area of the cave, then charged to the back. When she returned, her eyes were wild.
"He's not here. What have you done with him?"
"What? You think I attacked him?"
"I… don't know."
"He went out, and I followed him."
"But where would he go?"
"You're asking
me
?" he answered sharply, but the look of terror on her face softened his heart.
"I'm sorry. I know you're upset."
"Upset!" she echoed.
"Before he left, he looked like…" Logan stopped and swiped a hand through his hair, wondering how to describe what he'd seen.
"Like what?" she demanded.
"Like he was listening to something I couldn't hear."
She gasped. "No."
"You know what was going on with him?"
Her face had taken on a look of alarm. "I… not for sure," she said in an uncertain voice.
"Are you thinking he'd rat you out?"
"No." She raised her chin, apparently eager to go back to her previous theory. "What really happened. Did he go after you… and you killed him?"
"Jesus! All you want to do is blame me."
She took her lower lip between her teeth. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.
He took the opportunity to ask a question. "You've been with Haig a long time?"
"Since I was a little girl."
"He's your father?"
"My friend." She gave him a direct look. "Why did you go outside? I told you it was dangerous."
"Like I said, I tried to follow Haig. But he disappeared before I could get through the door. When I couldn't find him, I tried to go home."
"You can't. Not without my help."
"That's just great! Where the hell are we—I mean, what world is this?"
She swallowed. "A universe parallel to yours."
He wasn't exactly surprised, yet the confirmation shook him.
She glared at him, but below the anger, she looked shaken.
Now that he had her talking, he kept probing for information. "You say it's dangerous. Give me the tools to cope with this world. I saw men herding people along, people chained together. Who were they?"
Rinna swallowed. "Slaves," she finally said. "And if you don't want to end up as one of them, you'd better try not to get caught. If those guys could have subdued you without damaging you too badly, they would have sold you to the highest bidder."
"Sold a werewolf?"
"That makes you especially valuable."
Before Logan could respond to that observation, a low buzzing sound made Rinna's gaze shoot to the place where the door was located. "Carfolian Hell."
"What?"
"Somebody's out there."
"It's just Haig coming back."
"No. It's someone who isn't keyed to enter." She moved to a spot along the wall where a chink in the rock let in light from the outside. When she looked through, she gasped.
"Slavers?"
"No, Falcone's men."
"Can they get in?"
"I hope not."
Logan moved to the spy hole. He could see a man on the outside of the rock, moving his hand along the flat surface, probably looking for the mechanism that worked the door.
"Interesting coincidence that Haig goes out and soldiers show up right away," Logan muttered.
"He wouldn't turn me in," Rinna breathed.
"Then how did they find us?"
"I DON'T know," Rinna snapped. But her insides were churning. Turning away from Logan, she looked toward the place where the door would open, struggling not to let her panic drown out rational thought, She'd told him he could end up as a slave. She hadn't told him how bad it could be.
"If they get the door open, they have us," she whispered, hearing her voice shake.
Logan's expression had turned hard. "We could change to wolf form and fight."
"There are too many of them. And… and you still aren't up to full strength."
"Unfortunately." Logan looked over his shoulder. "Is there another way out?"
"No."
"What about the river?"
She stared at him. "What about it?"
"It flows out of here."
She thought for a moment. "I never tried to figure out where it exits. I don't even know how long it goes underground. It could be miles."
"Or not. I'm a landscape architect. Part of my job is studying the contours of the land. I think the river goes through the rocks. How big is the outcropping?"
"Not wide," she said in a low voice.
"Can you swim?"
"Yes. But I wouldn't say I'm good at it." Glancing toward the rock that blocked the doorway, she saw the stone beginning to thin, and she knew someone on the outside was melting his way through the barrier.
When she and Haig used the psychic key, the opening appeared almost instantly. The men out there hadn't found exactly the right combination yet, but they would get through eventually.
If she didn't want to get caught, she'd have to take her chances in the water. Even if she drowned, that was better than falling into Falcone's clutches again.
She and Logan rushed to the side of the cave where the river flowed through the bathroom area.
"I'll stay with you. Take off your clothes," he ordered.
She gulped, then turned her back and began tearing at her clothing.
"When we get to the other end, you'll have to lead the way to someplace safe."
Behind her, she heard loud voices. The warriors! They'd made it through the barrier.
She took a gasp of air, then dove in, the icy water shocking her body.
Above the roaring in her ears, she thought she heard the voices of the men shouting to each other, but she couldn't be sure.
She sensed Logan enter the water beside her. But the current pulled him away, and in the blackness she couldn't see him.
Struggling not to panic, she let the river carry her downstream. She felt something long and hard bump against her side and might have screamed if she'd had her head above water. A spear. One of 'the soldiers had thrown it at her retreating form.
The water flowed out of the cave and into a narrow passage, increasing the speed of the current and rushing her along. She cursed herself for not counting the seconds. In the black, watery environment, she had no idea where she was, how long she had been in the tunnel, or even if Logan was with her.
As the river carried her along, her shoulder bumped against an outcropping, and she scraped along the rock, feeling her skin abrade.
Repositioning herself, she struggled to stay in the center of the stream, but twice more the water banged her into a rock.
She knew she was collecting scrapes and bruises, but they were the least of her worries. Her lungs were going to burst if she didn't get some air. Swimming toward the surface, she was relieved to find that there was just enough room for her mouth and nose to poke above the water. She might have stayed above the surface, but she was afraid that she would hit her head in the dark and get knocked unconscious.
So she plunged under again, then kicked toward the surface when she needed air again, only this time there was no room for her head. She was stuck under the water.
Fighting panic and the pressure inside her chest, she looked ahead of her and saw a spot of light.
Thank the Great Mother! The river must be coming out of the underground passage—if she could only last long enough to reach it.
Focusing on the brightness, she struggled to increase her speed, kicking with her legs and stroking with her arms, trying to get out of the tunnel as fast as she could.
Finally, she burst into the open, broke the surface of the water and gasped in blessed air.
Her relief was short-lived, however. A hand closed around her ankle, pulling her under again before she had a chance to scream.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RINNA SHIFTED TO her right and saw one of the warriors had her in his grasp.
As she struggled to get away, the soldier grunted, and the hand loosened. The man began to thrash beside her. Twisting around, she saw Logan struggling to pull the attacker off her.
Trying to help, she grabbed at the soldier's hair, angling his head back. Together, they held him under while taking quick gasps of air themselves. The struggle seemed to take forever. Tired from the long swim, she felt her own strength ebbing. But finally, the man's body went limp. When she and Logan let go, the current carried him away.
Dragging in drafts of air, she let Logan take her arm and steer her toward the shore. But the rock walls along the banks were steep, so he kept going, looking for a place to get out.
She was beginning to think they would have to drift alone for miles when they finally came parallel to a sandy beach. Logan began to tow her toward shore.
They both crawled onto the sand, where they lay panting. When she shivered, Logan rolled toward her, lifting his arm to gather her close.
It was a natural response to their chilled circumstances, but she couldn't stop herself from flinching.
She was angry with herself for the reaction. This man had proved that he had her welfare at heart. Of course, she could have said the same about Falcone—not so long ago.
He had seemed to care about her. When some of the members of the council had voiced concerns about her power, he had told them she was useful. He had sent her out of the city to fight the Suckers. Partly to get her out of sight. And she had proved that she could track the mind vampires and drive them back to the world where they had originated. That was when she had first seen Logan. She had been tracking a Sucker and found it had gone into his universe.
She kept her head turned away from him, still remembering Falcone's betrayal. She had thought he was her protector. And he had proved her so wrong.
Logan was speaking, and she struggled to focus on his words. "You're hurt," he said, touching the place where the rock had scraped her shoulder.
"So are you," she said, staring at the ripening bruise on his muscular thigh where he also must have struck a rock. At the same time, she was trying not to stare at his sex. He was magnificently naked, and so casual about his body as he lay sprawled on the sand.
She should be just as casual. A woman who often found herself inconveniently nude when she changed from wolf to human could ill afford to be modest. Yet she couldn't stop herself from scooting a foot away from his large body, scraping her bottom on the rough sand as she went.
A flash of movement in the water caught her eye, and she went rigid. Great Mother! It looked like Logan was the least of her worries.
As she watched, another of Falcone's soldiers bobbed to the surface of the fast moving stream. Apparently more than one of them was willing to risk his life to bring her back.
Luckily, the man was turned away, scanning the bank on the other side of the river. Logan had followed her gaze, then grabbed her hand and pulled her off the beach and around a pile of boulders, shielding them from the river.
Climbing up on the nearest rock, he reached down to help her up. They ascended about ten feet above the river, into an open space.
Behind them, Rinna heard splashing noises. More warriors.
"If they find the beach, they'll see our footprints," she gasped.
"Shit! I wasn't thinking about that."
"There wasn't anything we could do about it. Not and get out of there fast."
Exclamations from below told her they were almost out of time. "Hurry," she urged. But as she looked around, she saw that there wasn't much chance of a quick escape. They'd have to keep climbing. And when they did, they would stand out against the rock walls.
On the other side of the open space, two rock outcroppings created a crevice.
One wall had a ridge that jutted out like a roof, darkening the space inside and giving a good deal of shelter.
But it would also be one of the first places the soldiers looked.
Still, it might be their only chance.
"We'll be trapped," Logan whispered when she started toward the crevice.
"Maybe not. Maybe I can do something." She pressed a hand against his shoulder. "You go first." She could leave him now. Maybe she could even get away, if she was by herself. But she wouldn't abandon him to the mercy of the warriors.
Logan gave her a doubtful look. But as they heard the sound of men scrambling up the rock, he backed quickly into the space until he was hidden by darkness.
She followed, then turned to face the doorway, focusing her thoughts on the opening. By herself, she couldn't create a force field like the one that had protected the cave. But perhaps she could make a mental curtain.
Moving closer, Logan cradled her in his arms, his naked front pressed to her back. It would be easy for him to take advantage of her here. He could let his hand drift downward, onto her breast, and she took her lip between her teeth as she realized how vulnerable she was. She couldn't run. And she couldn't fight him—if she wanted to keep the two of them hidden from the soldiers.
To her vast relief, he kept his fingers cupped over her shoulders.
Lowering his mouth to her ear, he spoke in the barest whisper, and she knew he was thinking about their situation—not about overpowering her. "If they find us, we can change and fight them."
Depending on how many
, she thought.
She pressed her lips together when she heard a voice below; one of the pursuers was calling to the other.
They both went still as they listened to the shouted conversation.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. But I thought I was going to drown."
"Where's Terrell?"
"I didn't see him."
Terrell. Was that the guy they'd killed in the water? She'd prefer not to know his name. He had nothing personal against her. He was just trying to survive in the service of a ruthless man.
"Maybe he didn't make it," another voice said.
"I thought he was a good swimmer."
"Maybe Rinna and the guy drowned."
At the sound of her own name, her heart started to pound even harder. Logan stroked her neck, her hair, but he said nothing.
"We could go back and say that's what must have happened."
The first speaker made a harsh sound. "You want to tell
Falcone
that we lost them?"
"Gods, no."
"They're both shape-shifters. They could be long gone."
"Still, we'd better search. Falcone was sure they'd be in the cave."
Rinna felt her throat close.
Logan pulled her farther into the shadows of the rocks, as far back as they could go.
It was dark inside the crevice. She couldn't see Logan, but she could feel him. They had been close together before. Now her body was wedged against his. His skin had warmed, maybe because the two of them were generating heat in the enclosed space.
He lowered his head again, stroking his lips lightly against her neck. As footsteps approached their hiding place, she pressed the back of her head into the dark hair on his chest.
When she heard a soldier climbing toward them, she went absolutely still as she formed an image in her mind. An image of the cave entrance and the cavity beyond. It was dark and scary inside. And it was impossible to see more than a few inches into the darkness. Probably there were cougars inside. Or bears. Or maybe even a fire-breathing dragon.
She felt Logan shiver, then lower his lips to her ear. "Are you doing that?"
"Yes," she murmured.
One of the warriors came close to the cave, and they both stopped breathing. Rinna could see the man staring into the darkness of the crevice.
Did he have a flashlight? They were very rare because it took some psychic ability to operate them. But this man might have been trained to do it.
She tensed, waiting for a beam to strike a shoulder or a leg. But apparently the man lacked that skill, and with the terrifying images she had called up, it seemed that he didn't want to take a chance on creeping into a tight space where danger might lurk.
After several moments, he moved off, and Rinna let the air trickle out of her lungs.
She would have pulled away from Logan, but he held her fast.
"I think they're gone," she whispered, reaching backward to press her hand against his shoulder. "We should get out of here."
"Not yet."
She couldn't see him, but alarm sizzled through her as she felt him turn her in his arms.
"I dreamed of kissing you," he said, "Was it real?"
"How could it be real if it was a dream?"
"But do you remember it?" he pressed.
She gulped. Lying was never easy for her. But there was no way she could tell him the truth.
"No," she whispered. She remembered sharing a kiss with him. Not just a kiss. He had touched her, stroked her body and she remembered waking—out of breath and wanting him. Then she'd gone right to him and tended his wounds.
They had been in an opulent bedroom. Now they were outside, wedged together in a crevice in the rock.
Before she could drag in a breath and let it out, he lowered his head so that his lips skimmed hers, brushing back and forth, and she felt a thrill along her nerve endings. Like in the dream.
She didn't want it to be true. She wanted to remain aloof from him. She thought of standing very still and simply letting him kiss her as though she were a statue. If she didn't respond, he would get the message.
They were both naked, and she felt a dart of fear when his penis stirred against her middle.
"I won't hurt you," he murmured. "I only want to find out if the dream was my imagination."
Suddenly she knew she'd trapped herself. If she'd told him the truth, perhaps he would turn her loose now. Or would confession only have made it worse?
He rubbed his mouth against hers again, creating a kind of heated friction. When she made a small sound, he pressed more firmly, moving his lips against hers as though he were speaking to her in a language only the two of them could understand. When she accepted that much from him, he took the intimacy to another level, his tongue playing along the line where she had her mouth sealed closed.
She had never realized there were so many subtle nuances to a kiss. And maybe she wasn't as opposed as she thought because she allowed the tip of his tongue to work its way to the inside edge of her lips, teasing and persuading.
He was gentle yet convincing. When he lightly stroked the sensitive inner surface of her mouth, then slowly swept his tongue along the line of her teeth, it felt good, which was as alarming as his naked body pressed to hers. Something about this man drew her. Some inner voice urged her to let down her guard with him. Only him.
Yet the thought of being at the mercy of any man tightened her chest.
She made a small sound, and he took advantage of that opening, deepening the contact, finding her tongue with his, delicately stroking the side.
He seemed to have turned kissing into an art form that a man and woman could appreciate together.
His tongue withdrew, and he used only his lips again, sipping from her as though her mouth tasted better to him than fine wine.
She was dizzy, swaying against him, his crisp chest hair making her breasts tingle. He stroked his hands up and down her arms, then slid lower, tracing the indentation of her waist and the curve of her hip, his fingers trailing heat over her skin.
It felt right. And good beyond belief. Yet there was no way she could relax in this situation. And the spreading warmth in her body changed to panic when she felt the hard shaft of his erection rising between them.
He was aroused. And his touch grew more urgent as he reached to stroke the sides of her breasts, then slid his hands inward toward her nipples.
"Don't."
He didn't seem to hear her, and that fueled her fear, so that she pushed sharply against his chest.
As soon as he felt that pressure, be dropped his hands to his sides and lifted his mouth away from hers.
Though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was looking down at her. When he spoke, she heard confusion and disappointment in his voice. "You wanted me to kiss you. You were enjoying it."
This time she found she couldn't lie to him. "Yes."
"It stopped feeling good?"
"I…"
She wanted to tell him she was frightened—of him and of herself. But admitting so much would put her at his mercy. And she knew what it was like to be at the mercy of a man.
When she didn't speak, he went on in a gritty voice. "I wasn't planning to take advantage of you."
Words rose to her lips. Words she wanted him to understand, yet at the same time, she couldn't speak.
Unable to tell him what she was feeling, she turned the subject away from what they had been doing and to the danger around them.
"We have to leave before more soldiers come. We should climb the rock wall and see what's on the other side. If you can get down as a wolf, then we should change," she said.
To her relief, he agreed. "You're right, I guess I stopped thinking clearly."
She had done that, too. But she didn't admit it.
As they moved toward the light, he cleared his throat. "How did you do that trick with the cave entrance?"
"You saw the image?"
"Yes. How did you do it?"
"In school we had classes where we learned to project scenes," she answered. "Sometimes I can do it."
He tipped his head to one side, studying her. "What kind of school was that?"
"For children with psychic talents," she answered in a clipped voice.
"Magic school, like in
Harry Potter
?"
"There was no one in my school named Harry Potter."
He laughed. "He's a character in a book."
"Oh." She dragged in a breath and let it out. "Some people call it magic. I call it talent."
"Okay."
As they approached the entrance to the cave, he held her back, then stepped in front of her, inspecting the area around the hiding place before stepping out.