But that was dangerous. Especially if she wanted to take this whole thing one step further, though it was crazy to think anyone could get so serious in such a short time.
It was a thought that made him smile grimly. He had. It had only taken two incredible days — and nights — with Jacinta, and he'd been ready to commit the rest of his life to her. It was Luke who'd convinced him to wait.
Luke who had picked up the pieces when it all went to hell.
God, he had to save Janie for him. Had to.
Sound scuffed against the silence. He froze, listening intently. It came again — the brush of a heel against stone. Then the smell of death began to invade the air.
The zombies must have awoken and discovered the open trap door.
He swore softly, grabbed the pack and called to the wolf within. Nothing happened. No rush of power, no moment of numbing emptiness as his body reshaped and the wolf formed. The chain . He'd shoved it into his pocket without really thinking about it. He pulled it out and dropped it onto the ground, then reached again for his wild side. It came in a rush of power that was almost overwhelming.
In wolf form again, he gathered the chain in his mouth and bounded up the tunnel. He'd seen a small fissure in the rock about half way down — not big enough to hide a human, but just right for a wolf. All he had to hope was that the zombies had a lousy sense of smell. As much as he liked to think he could handle ten dead men, he wasn't going to take a chance when Janie's life was at stake. Not unless there was no other choice.
The dragging footsteps moved closer. From the sound of it, there were only three coming down the tunnel. He wedged himself into the fissure, keeping low to present a less obvious presence to any dead gaze that might happen his way.
The smell drew closer. But with it came something else, something he'd felt before — in the warehouse, just before Kat and the man he now knew was a vampire had entered.
Heat began to burn against his neck. He glanced down.
One of the stones in the necklace Kat had made was beginning to glow the colour of blood. Hadn't she said the red stone was meant to prevent the Mara from sensing his presence?
Did the fact that it glowed now mean the soul sucker was coming down the tunnel with the dead men?
If she was, he had to hope the stone worked like it was supposed to work. Zombies he could handle, but what hope were teeth and claws against a creature who could disappear into a cloud of smoke?
A zombie shuffled past. It was big and lumbering and looked no more dangerous than a slab of meat. But the dead men he'd fought at the farm house had proven just how deceiving that image was. They might look slow, but they weren't. And they were damn strong.
A second zombie lumbered past. The stone at Ethan's neck burned more fiercely, searing his skin with its heat.
A third appeared — and above its head, tendrils of white smoke slowly gyrated. He didn't move, hardly dared to breathe in case the soul sucker sensed him. But his heart was pounding faster than a damn locomotive, and it was a wonder the creature couldn't hear it.
They disappeared into the tunnel's darkness. He waited until the shuffling steps of the zombies had become little more than a scuff of sound and the burning in the stone had faded. Then he slowly eased out of his hiding spot.
Four figures were silhouetted against the flickering light of the torches at the far end. The Mara had regained human form and was gesturing with one hand. Air shimmered briefly, then the four of them walked into the cavern.
He padded forward quietly, keeping low to the ground and close to the walls. When the shadows began to give way to the light, he stopped. Two of the three dead men who'd accompanied the soul sucker down the tunnel had moved into the cells and picked up the girls. The Mara was talking to the zombie guards. He flicked his ears forward but couldn't hear anything beyond a singsong murmur.
The two zombies with the girls moved out into the main cavern area. The Mara motioned them toward the second tunnel, then her form dissolved and floated after the dead men. One of the guards disappeared inside a cell, reappearing moments later with a box clutched in skeletal hands. Both dead men began to walk toward the tunnel he was in. He cursed softly. While he doubted the Mara had sensed his presence in the tunnel, any delay in following the creature could be costly. It had taken days — and blind luck — to find this hideaway. If he lost them now, it might be the end of any hope he had of rescuing Janie alive.
He turned tail and padded back to the fissure. Water dripped onto his nose as he crouched down. He shook it free and glanced up, noting that the cracks rising from ceiling to roof were oozing moisture. From the look of it, the tunnel slid right under the river in this section. He suddenly hoped whoever was responsible for creating the passageway had allowed enough depth to give the river base support — or the river could end up cutting itself an entirely new path.
The zombies shuffled past. They didn't go far, stopping just beyond his line of sight. They stood there for a good five minutes, their breathing as sharp as their smell, their fingers scraping across the stone. Finally, they moved on.
He edged out. The zombies were shuffling toward the trap door, and one still carried the box. He looked up, but couldn't see anything out of place and wondered what the hell they'd been doing. Something, he was sure of that.
Something that boded him and Kat no good.
For a second, he was tempted to follow them and see what they were doing. Kat was due back down this tunnel in the next half hour, and if the dead men were creating some form of trap, she'd be caught.
But dare he risk losing Janie by watching the dead men?
The answer was a resounding "No." Kat was a resourceful woman, and psychic besides. Surely she'd sense any trap the zombies were laying.
Right now, his priority had to lie with his niece and the other little girl, not with a woman he'd probably never see again once this mess was over.
He turned and padded after the Mara, wondering why the thought of never seeing Kat again churned his gut and made his chest feel tight.
Kat peered down into the dark tunnel from the relative safety of the empty cabin. She could hear no sound beyond a steady dripping, and Ethan's scent was little more than a caress of warmth across the chill air coming out of the tunnel. He wasn't in there, she was certain of that. Did the absence of both him and the zombies mean he'd been caught?
If he had been, he wouldn't have gone down without a fight. But she couldn't smell freshly dead zombie in the air of the tunnel, and surely she would have if there were one or two down there.
She bit her lip. She had an uneasy feeling that it was no longer safe in the tunnel, but unless she went in, she'd never know what had happened. Surely he would have left her some hint, some clue, as to where he'd gone if he hadn't been captured by the zombies or the Mara.
Perhaps shifting shape was the answer… only her back and legs were aching with the strain of carrying the small backpack so far in her claws. She doubted if her raven form would be able to hold onto it much longer without dropping it — and dropping it would shatter the extra sleep bombs she'd collected. Leaving it here while she explored the tunnel was out of the question. If the Mara came back, she'd be left without weapons.
She'd have to risk going in. She really had no other option. Sighing, she grabbed the pack, swinging it over one shoulder before lowering herself into the tunnel.
Her feet hit the stone with a soft thump. She remained where she was, studying the darkness in front of her, listening to the silence. Beyond the steady dripping there was very little sound. The air seemed thick and cold, icing her lungs with every intake of breath. She shivered and was suddenly glad she'd put on an extra sweater.