“Natalie!” He looked for her, but saw nothing. The ground around where she had been lying was an open wound, sand and rock pouring into it. He dove after her.
Landing in a roll, he spotted her crouched in an odd cavern that seemed to bloom beneath the desert floor. The earth around them still quaked, but though the sand and rock rained down, the cave appeared stable. In the blink of an eye, he bent over her and wrapped his arms around her body, shielding her from the falling debris until the earth stilled. She trembled underneath him, and he could smell the blood that stained her skin from cuts and scrapes.
He said nothing when the earth finally stopped moving, uncurling from around her body to clear the sand and hair from her face. His senses reached out, searching for any threat, but no energy reached him. The gash where they had fallen had caved in and was covered by tumbled sandstone. The cavern narrowed into a small passageway that led into the unknown. Was it a mine shaft? An old tunnel?
Baojia could hear her heart beating furiously, so he lifted her in his arms and carried her toward the narrow opening that led farther down. It was pitch-black, but he sensed a familiar energy, a trace of scent and amnis that still lingered under the earth. Tulio. This passage, whatever it was, must have belonged to the old hermit.
She began coughing, and he could smell the salt of her tears and the teasing metallihatever c scent of her blood. He followed Tulio’s scent farther into the black, but could feel nothing and no one else. They were utterly alone beneath the earth.
Eventually, he could feel the air grow fresher and the sound of his steps echoed as he entered a wider part of the passageway. From the right, he caught the distinct smell of wax. Carefully, he set Natalie on her feet, reaching out until he could feel a niche in the wall. A stack of candles lay there, next to a box of matches. With steady hands, he lit one and looked around the room, carefully keeping his eyes on anything but the woman who was shaking only a few feet away.
He lit another, then another, placing them at intervals around a room lined with small alcoves. It had to have been an old hiding place. Or maybe the earth vampire kept many passages such as this one. Burrows carved from the earth to make for easy escape or shelter.
Whatever it was, it was safe.
The floor was dusty, but wool rugs were scattered over it, and a soft pallet sat in one corner. Wordlessly, Baojia picked up Natalie and laid her on it, carefully surveying her for wounds as his tension shifted from survival to anger.
“Where are we?” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse. “Is there anyone else down here?”
“No.”
He ran careful hands over her legs first, checking her ankles for twists or breaks. He bent and rotated the joints, carefully watching for signs of pain. There was a cut in her right calf but it wasn’t deep. He quickly ripped the lower part of her jeans away and bent down, piercing his tongue to clean and heal the wound before he checked her knees.
“Baojia—”
“Be quiet,” he muttered as he continued his examination. Her arms were next. He performed another cursory examination of her wrists. The right appeared to be slightly swollen, but not broken or seriously sprained. Another cut marked her left forearm. He ripped away the sleeve of her shirt and healed that wound as well.
“Are you going to talk to me?”
He still didn’t speak, just pushed her back on the pallet to gently run hands over her torso and ribs. Though there were more scrapes, particularly on her lower back and left shoulder from where she must have fallen, there appeared to be no sign of internal injuries or broken bones. He could hear her start to sniff.
“Will you say something? Please?”
“That would not be wise.”
Finally, he looked up. Placing his hands on her head, he gently probed her skull and neck, still searching for signs of trauma. He ignored her wet blue eyes. He brushed the hair away from her forehead and bent down, his lips inches away from a red scrape on her forehead. She was crying silently, tears running down her face as she pushed him away. She started to tremble again, but he could tell this time it was from anger.
“Say something.”
He refused, the quiet rage forcing him back on his heels as he crouched next to her, stubbornly looking anywhere but her eyes. He could feel the blood start to pulse in his veins as her anger mounted. He bit down, tasting the blood from where his own fangs pierced the inside of his lip.
“Say anything!”
He caught her outstretched hand a fraction away from his face as she tried to slap him. He held her wrist, barely containing his raw fury. Finally, his eyes lifted to hers.
Anger. Relief. Desperation. He saw every emotion he had locked away spilling from her eyes.
“I 8">e of herreturned to the house to find you gone,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I had to wake Matt in the middle of the night to activate the GPS tracking on my car. I flew down here with Tenzin, convinced I would find your body drained in the desert.”
“I was with Beatrice and Brigid—”
A swift hand covered her mouth as he continued in a deadly soft voice. “He was seconds away from killing you. You were moments from death.”
She peeled his fingers from her mouth, grasping his hand in hers as she sat up slowly. “I had the Taser. I shocked him. I would have had time to—”
“You can die, Natalie.”
“I know that.”
“You can die.”
“I know!”
“You almost did.” The wall of anger that had masked his fear began to crumble. The sheer terror of the previous two hours began to slash at his throat.