these years later, he still quietly grieved that fact.
Was Patrick dead because Michael hadn't been there to meet him? Was that the reason for the anger she'd sensed in him when they'd first met? Had his need for revenge been fueled just as much by guilt as anger?
'Was Patrick much older than you when he was turned?'
Michael scrubbed a hand across his jaw and, for a moment, looked as if he wouldn't answer. Then he glanced down at the hole and said softly, 'No. He took the ceremony earlier than I. But he wasn't in such a hurry to die, and he didn't turn until his heart gave out when he was in his forties.'
'He had a heart attack?'
'No. Living was tough back then, and forty was a fairly old age.'
'And you were by his side?'
He nodded. 'By then, I'd had reasonable control of my blood lust, and I had left Elizabeth. Patrick had caught sight of me a few years earlier, and he told me he knew what I was. He made me promise to be by his deathbed, because the man who had turned him was dead, and he didn't want to hurt or kill anyone while in the fledgling stage.'
She raised her eyebrows. Was he implying Patrick was gay? Was that why he'd been headed for San Francisco? Was the city so liberal in its thinking way back then? She didn't know, but even if it wasn't, it surely wouldn't have bothered a vampire all that much.
'So who turned him?'
'I don't know. He never told me.'
'But it was a man?'
He looked at her again, answering what she hadn't asked rather than what she had. 'Patrick's bisexual.
He's the reason the Kelly line still lives on in Ireland.'
'Then you never had kids?'
'No.' He raised an eyebrow. 'A fact I suspect you already knew.'
She grinned. 'Just confirming these things while you're under the influence.'
'Of what?'
'A spell that has apparently frayed your natural reticence when in comes to speaking about your past.'
'Woman, you speak in riddles.'
'Yeah, makes a nice change, doesn't it?'
He shook his head. 'Enough of this ridiculousness. Wait here while I check to see what waits below.'
She didn't argue, just watched him disappear down the hole. 'It's not a very wide tunnel,' he said, after a few minutes.
'Rats don't need wide tunnels,' she commented, squatting down. The sunlight filtering into the tunnel barely lifted the gloom, and Michael was little more than a shadow. 'Is it safe enough?'
'It appears so.'
'Then move aside, because I'm coming in.'
She hung her legs over the edge and eased herself down. Hands grabbed her hips, catching her weight and lowering her the rest of the way. It was further down than she'd first thought. He didn't release her immediately, his gaze burning into hers. 'You will do what I tell you to down here, won't you?'
'Always.'
He gave her the sort of look that said he didn't believe her. Grinning, she rose up on her toes, gave him a quick kiss and said, 'After you.'
For a moment, he did nothing more than simply look at her. Even though the sunlight filtering in from above barely lit the shadows, she could see the questions in his eyes. See the doubts. It didn't really matter whether those doubts were of the situation or of her. The mere fact he doubted was a start.
And while there was no response in the link between them, he'd said her name while making love.
Somewhere deep inside him, the spell was beginning to fade. All she had to do was keep pushing. Keep doing and saying things that were echoes of times past. Keep trying to wash the runes from his back.
'This tunnel probably runs down to the town,' he said, his soft tone echoing around them, mingling with the insistent buzz of energy. 'If Dunleavy can't move far, he might need to be near his food source.'
'But the ceremony he'll perform to bring his brother back to life will be done in the Standard mine. If he can't move far, he won't be far from there.'
'I doubt—' She raised an eyebrow. 'Do you actually have doubts, or is it the spell on your back making you think that way?'
'I do feel a pressure to go down rather than up the tunnel.' He hesitated. 'So, up it is.'
He caught her hand, his fingers warm and strong against hers as he tugged her forward. The darkness surrounding them quickly faded as her eyes adjusted. It was like she was looking at a negative—the air was black, everything else various shades of gray. And while this allowed her to see in darkness almost as well as Michael, she wasn't about to let go of his hand. The last time she'd been in a tunnel like this, the damn thing had collapsed on her, and she'd almost died. And while sharing his life force now meant she couldn't really die, she wasn't about to go through a repeat of the pain.
She pushed the memories away and peered past Michael. The walls of the tunnel were rough-hewn, the roof supported by aging beams of wood that were darkened by moisture and time. From a distance up ahead came a soft but steady dripping, and while the ground beneath them was dry, the air was stale and damp.
There didn't seem to be any sort of incline, suggesting the tunnel was burrowing deeper into the hill. The creaks and groans of the supports seemed to be growing louder, as if they were having trouble bearing the weight of the earth above them.
She shivered and somehow resisted the urge to glance upwards and inspect the roof.
Michael stopped abruptly. 'I smell blood.'
The air smelled no different to her, but she wasn't as attuned to blood as he was. Nor did she ever want to be. 'Old or new?'
He hesitated. 'Both.'
'A sacrifice site?'
'Possibly. It seems to be coming from the right, which means there's probably a junction in the tunnel up ahead.'
'So let's check it out.'
Something sparked through the link between them—a brief surge of resignation and amusement combined. She reached out, trying to touch that spark, trying to bring his awareness of her out into the open. For a moment, their thoughts combined, wrapping her in joy and love, then energy surged between them, and the spark died.
But not for long, she suspected, barely able to resist the urge to dance. Her Michael was closer to the surface than ever before.
'You should stay here,' he said, looking over his shoulder. 'But I'm guessing you won't.'
'And you'd be guessing right.' She squeezed his fingers lightly. 'Can you sense anything else?'
'At this stage, no.'
He tugged her forward again. They'd barely walked a dozen steps when they reached a T-intersection.
There was nothing to be seen either way but more rough-hewn tunnel.
'Still nothing?' she asked.
'There's a heartbeat. It's faint, but very fast.' He frowned at her. 'Its beat is more one of pleasure than pain.'
She raised her eyebrows. 'There's a difference.'
His smile was slow and sexy and made her heart do a dance.
'Oh, yes.'
'How?'
'Now is not the time for an explanation,' he said, voice dry. 'Perhaps we should see what's going on ahead, first.'
'Then let's do it.'
They moved quickly down the right-hand tunnel. The air became thick and chilled and slapped wetly across her skin. Water splashed into the silence, growing ever louder the closer they got to the source.
