Something had happened to him.
But as much as she wanted to hurry, she also knew it would be disastrous to move before her clothes had dried and she'd thawed out a little. Her only real hope of rescuing Michael might lie in silence, so
Cordell wouldn't know she was there. Though that might be hard to achieve, given he was a vampire.
Her fingers and toes began to tingle as warmth flooded back into them. She bit her lip, trying to ignore the pain. Her clothes were still damp, but they no longer dripped and, thanks to the flame imp, were at least warm.
The imp flashed past her again, its color a brighter red. She took the hint and followed it along the stream bank. The water bubbled into the silence, a cheery sound at odds with the air's heaviness.
A chill crept over her—a chill that had nothing to do with any lingering iciness left in her limbs. The smell of evil fouled the night. Cordell was close.
She walked on. The water was beginning to roar again, indicating another waterfall. She hoped this one had a path near it. Another dunking was not something she wanted right now—she was only just beginning to thaw out properly.
The flame imp hesitated, flashing blue-green highlights across an arch through which the stream disappeared. The color of fear, she thought. Cordell had to be just beyond the archway.
"Stay here," she murmured. The imp flashed gold, then darted away into the darkness. She didn't blame it. She'd have done the same thing if she could have.
Back pressed against the damp rocks, she edged around the arch. Beyond it lay a second, smaller cavern. The stream leapt into space again, and a path curved around to her left. In the center of the cavern below, strangely colored flames danced and shimmered, casting blue streaks of light across the darkness. Nearby, Michael lay spread-eagled on a stone table, arms and legs tied. He wasn't moving.
Blood pooled near his head, and the left side of what remained of his black shirt seemed horribly shiny—the sort of shine that came from a lot of blood.
Fear swelled thick and fast, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. She thrust a fist into her mouth to stop her scream, then saw his chest move. One breath—all a vampire really needed. He was alive.
But for how much longer was anyone's guess.
She glanced around quickly for Cordell. He was on the far edge of a circle drawn around a fire pit and
Michael, fiddling with something on a table. There was a bloody cloth wrapped around his left hand, but it didn't seem to hamper his movements. His low chant echoed across the darkness, surrounding her with the stink of evil and rising power. Ginger stood next to him, her face remote, lifeless.
Nikki bit her lip, her need to move and help Michael as quickly as she could warring with the need to be careful. Cordell was too dangerous for her to fight him alone—she'd caught him by surprise in the alleyway, but this time he'd know her weapon and be ready for her.
Somehow, she'd have to wake Michael, then free him. Back to the wall, she began to edge down the path.
Michael?She put as much force as could into her call. Deep down in the void, awareness stirred.
She crept a little farther down the path. Michael? You have to wake up. You have to help me.
Cordell turned, rolling toward the fire pit. She froze, barely daring to breathe. There was nothing else she could do, nowhere she could go. The nearest rock was several feet away, and she couldn't risk moving.
If he looked up, he'd see her for sure.
She clenched her hands, trying to hold back the energy tingling through her body. Even sparks would be dangerous right now. Cordell leaned over the fire pit, throwing a jar into the flames. Dust rose in a cloud, and the flames shivered, turning a deeper blue. Cordell's chanting grew stronger.
She licked her lips. The sense of evil was thick, and her stomach churned at the stench. Magic shimmered across the darkness, a cloud of power she could almost touch. Time was running out. She had to hurry.
Cordell turned back to the table. She scooted quickly down the path, going as fast as she dared, watching Cordell and only half watching the path.
He turned again. She ducked behind the cover of a large boulder, then peered out. He was throwing more muck into the flames. This time they burned a rich purple. His chanting rose another notch, and energy crackled through the night, accompanied by a high keening cry.
A flame imp, she realized. The magic was casting its net. The binding spell couldn't be that far away.
Damn it, Michael, wake up!He knew magic—she didn't. Surely he'd know the best way to stop
Cordell.
She tore one of the knives from her jeans and glanced across at him. Energy burned through her and into the knife, and the blade went scooting across the darkness. She kept it low to the ground, only half watching Cordell. When the knife reached the table, she quickly cut the ropes binding Michael's legs and right arm. The other arm she left, not wanting to risk Cordell spotting it before Michael actually woke.
Michael, can you hear me? You have to wake up. You have to help me.
Awareness again stirred, along with pain. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back quickly.
What in the hell had Cordell done to him?
Cordell cast something else into the flames. They leapt high, burning almost black. Energy crackled, raising the hairs along her arms and the back of her neck. The keening grew more frantic. Ginger's hands were clenched and tears tracked down her cheeks, glinting silver in the fire's strange light.
An imp was torn from the rocks, its color as purple as the flames, flashing frantic spears of light through the darkness. Fingers of fire leapt upwards, forming a cage around it.
Cordell picked up a knife, holding it high above his head. His chanting reached a crescendo as he moved toward Michael.
Cordell was going kill him, she suddenly realized. Michael's death would be the final step in the binding.
"No!" She jumped to her feet and tore the knife from Cordell's hands, thrusting it away into the darkness. Then she turned her energy toward the fire, scattering the flames as far as she could. The flame imp darted away into the darkness.
"Bitch!" Cordell's voice was high and filled with murderous fury.
Lightning arced towards her. She dove to the right, hitting the stony ground with bruising force. The rock exploded, the sound almost deafening. Deadly shards of debris sliced through the air, through her skin.
She yelped and covered her head with her hands, rolling away.
Magic burned a warning through the night. She glanced up quickly, saw another streak of lightning cutting towards her. Looking around wildly, she saw the boulder to her left. Scant cover, but all she had.
She scrambled towards it. The air seemed to howl behind her and heat bubbled across her skin. She screamed and flung herself sideways.
The ground exploded, thrusting her into the air. She twisted as she fell, thrusting energy wildly at Cordell.
She hit the ground with a grunt and, for a minute, saw nothing but stars. It hurt to breathe let alone move, but move she had to if she didn't want to be an easy target for the lightning. She thrust up, biting her lip against the scream of pain that tore up her throat, and staggered away.
She searched the cavern for Cordell. He was hovering in midair, legs and arms dangling like a broken puppet. His chair righted itself, then he was turned and set back down. Ginger, she thought, and wondered where the imp was.
Nikki?
Michael's thought was little more than an agonized whisper, but at least he was waking. I'm here. I think