Could a wolf lose his heart more than once?
She'd ask him, except for the fact she'd promised to drop the subject and didn't want to risk alienating him completely. Maybe it was a question Gwen could answer.
She hoped so. Because she very much suspected she was falling in love with the damn man.
She hugged her arms around her belly. She'd find out tonight if she was pregnant or not. And if she was, there was one thing she was suddenly certain of.
Her child would know its father.
She'd grown up without that knowledge and knew the pain it caused. If he didn't want any part of his child's life, then fair enough, but her child would know who he was, what he looked like, what he did and where he lived.
They would have the sense of history, of belonging, that in many respects she never had, no matter how much Gran had loved her. Four simple pieces of information could have made her childhood seem a whole lot less of a mistake.
And perhaps most importantly, her child would never be in doubt that her mother not only wanted her, but loved her. Or him, as the case may be.
She glanced at her watch again then rose and looked inside. The red mist had almost dissipated. It should be safe enough now to enter without waking the zombies.
She signalled to Ethan, then carefully opened the window. A heartbeat later she felt the warmth of his presence wash over her senses.
"What, no masks?" Ethan asked, voice low and annoyed as she clambered inside.
She hid her smile and met his gaze. "Don't need them with the mist almost gone."
He snorted softly. "Wouldn't be a ploy to keep me at a safe distance while you explored, would it?
"Of course not," she said absently as she looked around, trying to sense the presence of anything else other than the sleeping zombies.
"That's what I figured." He stepped carefully over a zombie. "What are we looking for?"
"I don't know. You check that door." She waved a hand at the door to their left. "And I'll look around here."
He made his way toward the door. She stayed where she was, hands on her hips as she studied the floor. The air gently caressing her face was damp and smelled slightly musty. It wasn't the staleness of a cellar, rather that of an old cave. Suggesting, perhaps, there was another access point here besides the window and the front door. One that went down rather than out.
She stepped over a dead man and followed the caress of air into the shadows. And found a trap door. One that had a zombie sleeping over the top of it.
"Nothing in this room," Ethan said quietly. "You found anything?"
"Yeah, a zombie in the damn way."
He stopped beside her. "So why not kill it?"
She gave him an annoyed look. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do not run around killing zombies willy-nilly.
Besides, if I kill any of these things right now, the person who raised them would know."
"Then let's move it, so we can check out the door." His voice held an edge of impatience. Or maybe it was annoyance.
"I'll move it. You touch it, and it might just wake."
She directed a thick lance of kinetic energy at the zombie, carefully moving it closer to the window. It stirred, tearing at her kinetic hold. Hot lances of fire burned into her brain, and she bit her lip, blinking back tears as she eased the creature back to the floor.
Ethan had the trap door open and was squatting near the edge, peering down into the darkness. "It smells damp.
Musty."
She nodded. At least the air coming up from the darkness was free from the scent of death — for the moment, anyway. "I'll go down first, check that it's okay."
He glanced at her. "What if we're attacked?"
She slipped off the pack and opened it, grabbing the stakes and zombie deterrents. "Use these," she said, offering him a set.
He just looked at them. "Thanks, but I'll stick to my gun."
"A gun won't work against the dead."
"I'm sure they'll stop if you shoot their damn brains out."
"Zombies have no use for brains, so splattering them won't make a difference." But she put one set of weapons away, knowing he wasn't going to believe her until he actually shot a zombie and discovered for himself what little effect a bullet had.
She handed him the pack then peered into the hole. It was as dark as hell down there, but the breeze was coming from the right. She looked up at Ethan. "Just how good is your night sight?"
"Wolf keen." He frowned. "I was under the impression your sight was pretty damn good as well."
"It normally is, but I can't see squat down there."
"Then I'd better lead once we're down."
She nodded and climbed in, dropping lightly to the stony ground. For several seconds she did nothing more than listen. Everything was still — silent. Almost oppressively so.
She met Ethan's gaze. "It's okay."
He jumped down then caught her hand, his fingers warm against hers. "Nothing?"
She shook her head. "Nothing dead, at any rate."
"Good."
He tugged her forward. The chill in the air increased, and the ground seemed to be sloping downward, though the darkness was so deep it was hard to be sure. The tunnel was narrow, tight, and her breath caught as she imagined the weight of the walls and the roof bearing down on her.
She only had to straighten her fingers and she could brush the cold stone. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and she bit her lip. Damn it, why couldn't she see? It was odd, to say the least. Especially when Ethan obviously could. She would have thought a raven's sight to be nearly as good as a wolf's, but obviously, it wasn't. Or maybe it was just the fact they were under the ground rather than above it.
Ahead, moisture dripped, lending the darkness a steady heartbeat. The dank smell increased, until it almost felt like they were breathing in liquid.
"I'd say there's a river overhead." Though his voice was soft, it seemed to boom through the tunnel, echoing loudly.
"I can't hear water running."
"Probably wouldn't, with the amount of rock above us."
Right now, she didn't need to be reminded about the weight above them. She swiped at a trickle of sweat and peered past his shoulder. Something glowed up ahead. "Is that light?"
"Torchlight, by the way it's flickering." He squeezed her hand. "It opens up a little up ahead."
"Good." She didn't bother masking her relief. "Can you smell anything?"
"Humans. Two of them."
Though his voice was flat, she could feel his excitement.
"It might not be her, you know."
"I know."
But his pace increased regardless. The flickering glow grew until it shone warmly across the damp rocks and finally lifted the darkness. Ahead, the tunnel opened up into what looked like a wide cavern. Relief crawled through her.
There was no one to be seen ahead. Nothing to be heard.
But she could certainly smell someone. Something.
She pulled Ethan to a stop. "Zombies, dead ahead."
"How many?" His question was little more than a caress of air past her ear.
"Two." She hesitated, and frowned. "But there's something else."
"What?"
"I'm not sure." She let go of his hand and stepped forward cautiously. Energy tingled across her skin, brief but powerful. She raised a hand. The further she reached, the sharper the buzz, until it felt like it burned across her skin. Eventually it became a wall that resisted her efforts to push any further. Tiny slivers of energy shot from her fingers, lightning sharp as they crawled up that unseen wall and faded away.
"What the hell is that?"
"Some form of magic barrier. I haven't got the equipment with me to get past it right now."
She kept her hand against the barrier and moved from one side of the tunnel to the other. The barrier appeared to be oval in shape, bowing out into the tunnel from either edge.