Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night (Immortals After Dark #4)(10)
Author: Kresley Cole

"Below the cable, there’s a lava tube, another cavern."

"I doona see anything," Bowe gritted out.

"It’s there. You want the prize? Then you’re just going to have to trust a vampire – "

The boulder toppled over. Before Wroth could trace, Bowe lunged to grab Wroth’s left arm, then whistled low at what remained of the vampire’s right – pulverized bone and severed sinews of muscle. "That’s got tae hurt," he said with a sneer.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Wroth snapped.

"Aye." Bowe hauled him up. "And I plan to kill you for that. After this competition. Right now, I doona have all day."

The vampire seemed to just prevent himself from rocking on his feet. He blinked as though struggling to focus.

Bowe jostled him. "Are you even going to be able to do this – "

Without warning, the vampire traced.

Instantly, they were in a new tunnel. Though Wroth looked disoriented, somehow he’d done it. The smoke and steam were thicker here and flames seemed to sprout from barren rock.

Bowe caught sight of a reflection on the ceiling of the cave. He spied the source deeper within – a shining blade on a waist-high column of rock at the very end of the cavern. Bowe shot forward, sprinting for it. Wroth traced and got there first. He snatched the blade with his good hand and tensed to disappear.

But Bowe had already freed his whip. With a crack, he had the length coiled around Wroth’s wrist and yanked down, preventing the vampire from tracing. "I’ll be takin’ that now."

Wroth transferred the blade to his right hand to raise it and claim the victory. But that ruined arm hung lifeless.

"Canna quite make it to your heart, then?"

The vampire bared his fangs. "I’ll gut you before you get this."

"That equals the life of my mate."

"I’ve the same on my mind," Wroth bit out.

"The Valkyrie died?" That was why Wroth was here instead of Kaderin?

"Not for long."

The look in his eyes gave Bowe pause. He’d seen that level of unyielding determination in his own gaze in the mirror. "We could share it, vampire," he said, disbelieving what he was offering – especially when he had the advantage. "The key works twice."

"I need both of those times… for her." Suddenly, the vampire’s wasted arm shot up. Impossible – The blade rose as if by its own accord and struck viciously.

Blood spurted from Bowe’s wrist; searing pain erupted as his severed hand dropped. Freed from the whip, the vampire traced the distance across the pit, decisively out of Bowe’s reach.

Bowe sank to his knees, staring dumbly at the blood streaming from his body. How? He gaped at his lost hand, still clenching the whip handle. How had that blade risen?

I’ve… lost? His body shuddered violently at the realization. "I will kill you for this, vampire!" he roared.

Bowe had lost. He wouldn’t be able to go back and save Mariah – save her from himself.

He’d lost her. Again.

"I will eat your goddamned heart!" But the vampire was already gone, leaving Bowe trapped in a cavern of fire where immortals went to die.

6

"Jump, Mariketa! I’ll catch you."

Mari crawled on her belly inch by inch among the rancid corpses of the incubi slumbering all around her. In the last two weeks, this was the closest that she’d made it to the edge of their lair without waking them.

The night of the first attack, one had dragged her into the shadows, then lifted her into the air by her ankles, feet over her head, though she’d kicked and thrashed to be free. As the incubus had flown ever upward, her body had swung loosely like a rag doll. When her head had knocked against a shelf of carved stone, blackness dotted her vision. She’d awakened here on this ledge, somewhere high in the tomb.

Almost there. When she raised herself up on her elbows, she shook so wildly her head bobbed. You can do this, Mari. One elbow in front of the other. Finally… finally, she reached the edge – and barely stifled a gasp. She’d known she was high up, but didn’t realize it was this bad. They were at least a hundred feet in the air.

Heights. Just ducky.

When Tera saw Mari peeking over the side, she politely turned up her lantern. Though the other immortals could see in the dark to varying degrees, Mari couldn’t, not yet. "Mariketa, are you okay?"

Mari nodded weakly.

"Come, then. I promise I’ll catch you," Rydstrom said once more in his deep baritone voice.

During the days, Mari had heard the five of them debating plans of defense or arguing about their escape, and she’d learned their voices and personalities. She liked Rydstrom the best, and not just because he was so stalwart and handsome. For the most part, he was coolheaded, especially for a rage demon, and remained rational even as hour upon hour lagged by.

Yet Cade seemed to be able to provoke him as no other, and the brothers sometimes fought in the heat of the day. "Still acting like a king!" Cade had snapped. "But you’re not. No longer."

Rydstrom had answered, "And whose fault is that, brother?"

The two had, in fact, entered the Hie for the means to reclaim their kingdom – lost because of some act by Cade.

As for the archers, Tera was indeed sister to the hotheaded Tierney. And Mari suspected the pretty, brunette elf was also an object of great interest to the second male archer, Hild. Hild was normally silent, but when he spoke the others listened. Mari hadn’t discovered if those three had had a specific agenda in entering.

"Come on, Mari! Rydstrom won’t let you fall," Cade said, and the others nodded with encouragement. "Just jump!"

Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Ge–ronimo, bitches.

Her expression must have betrayed her thoughts because Tera asked, "If you can’t jump, then can you work any magick?"

Over the last two weeks on this ledge, each failed attempt had angered the incubi and drained her even more. She couldn’t even produce illumination to break up the inky blackness surrounding her.

Mari shook her head. She was simply too weak. She drew away, collapsing onto her back. She wasn’t a puss in most circumstances, but she’d been born and raised in an area situated below sea level. She’d never even seen a mountain in person until she’d flown in white-knuckled awe over the Guatemalan countryside with its volcano silhouettes and jungle-covered peaks.

Kiddie Ferris wheels could wig her out – diving from the height of nearly half a football field wasn’t forthcoming.

Oddly enough, she had gotten past her other great phobia – the very unwitchly one of large insects. Once she’d become too weary to continue swatting them away, they’d crawled over her in abandon, and she’d simply grown accustomed to them with repeated exposure. If they didn’t bite her, she wouldn’t bite them…