roof edge. Shifters were tough—it could take a two-story fall without breaking a nail.
She spun and ran for the stranger. When she was close enough, she launched herself at him, twisting in the air so that she'd hit him feet first. He didn't react, merely stood there dumbly, confirming her guess that Dunleavy wasn't using this man's eyes. She hit him hard, and sent him flailing backwards. He hit the landing's back railing, and with a crack that sounded like thunder, the wood splintered and gave way.
With arms flailing, the stranger fell backwards into the fog and disappeared.
She barely had the chance to swear before the impetus of her leap took her over the edge and down into that same fogginess.
'Oh, shit ,' was all she managed to say before the free fall experience was over. She hit the ground with enough force to jar every bone in her body and send her teeth through her tongue.
She slumped face first into the dirt and lay there for several minutes, trying to remember how to breathe, trying to ignore the pain pouring through every nerve ending. She'd never fallen two stories before, and it was certainly an experience she never wanted to repeat. It damn well hurt.
Concern flooded through her mind, and suddenly there were warm hands on her back, her neck, feeling for a pulse, checking that she was okay.
'I'm all right,' she murmured, and forced herself to roll over. 'Just winded.'
Michael's face was dark with dust, and there were smears of blood near his temple, as if he'd dragged bloody fingers through his hair. 'Are you sure?'
She wiggled her fingers and moved her feet. 'I'm fine. Really.'
The relief and love evident in his gaze made her heart do its usual happy dance.
'I was in the mines and felt your pain.' He paused and frowned. 'Odd, really.'
She smiled and touched a hand to his cheek. 'Not as odd as you might think. Did you find anything?'
'Another circle. I destroyed it, though the pentagram is still viable.' He glanced up at the roof of the whorehouse. Orange flames were now visible through the rapidly retreating fog. 'Looks like the one up there is in the process of being destroyed, though.'
She nodded and grabbed his leg, using it to help her sit up. He winced, and as she pulled her hand away, she saw the blood. 'What the hell…?'
He shrugged. 'Dunleavy wasn't about to let me take one of his sacrifices without a fight. He had three wolves protecting the stones. I used one of their bodies to displace the rocks.'
'Since your jeans are soaked with blood, you definitely need that wound treated.'
He gave her a gentle smile. 'Blood is easy enough for me to replace. The man I rescued needs treatment first.' He paused, looking past her. 'Who is that?'
She twisted around. The man she'd knocked off the roof was lying on his back not far away. 'Dunleavy left him as a guard on the roof. He okay?'
'He breathes. His heart beats.'
She glanced at Michael. 'Can you touch his thoughts.'
He frowned. Energy buzzed around them, a sharper heat than that coming from the flames above them.
'I should be able to, but it feels like I'm fighting my way through molasses.'
Because of the runes. At least she'd be able to tackle them again—given he was covered in dirt, he was definitely taking a bath. 'Where's the man you rescued?'
In answer, he rose and offered her a hand. She placed her fingers in his, her skin trembling at the sheer warmth of his touch. He pulled her to her feet, but didn't move immediately, instead touching her bruised chin with his free hand.
'I know you,' he said softly. 'Love you.'
Elation winged through her soul. The wall around his memories was breaking down—and though she wished it would happen a little faster, at least it was happening.
'And I you,' she whispered, then added through the link, but when you remember my name, do not
Again, despite the spell, he didn't seem to think it strange for them to be connecting this way—even though he'd tried to use telepathy moments ago and couldn't. But maybe that was because Dunleavy didn't actually know about the deeper connection between them. He'd blocked Michael's memories and, therefore, his path to the link, but as the memories seeped back, so did his access to the mind link.
Seline.
As he would be, since he'd basically been left to bleed to death. 'We'd better move the other man first.
Wouldn't want the building falling on him.'
Michael raised an eyebrow. 'You save him, and you're just saving another weapon Dunleavy can use against us.'
'He's not helping willingly, and I'm not leaving him here to die.'
Michael didn't look too enthusiastic about the task, but he hobbled over to the stranger and hauled him to an old water trough, dumping him inside. 'The concrete will protect him from the heat,' he commented. 'That good enough?'
She nodded and glanced up as something exploded on the roof. Sparks flew high, blue and black shards that glittered like diamonds against the bright flames. The candles, perhaps. Black smoke curled upwards, oddly reminding her of the slug creature as it worked its way through the rapidly disappearing mist.
A chill ran through her. Was that thing still in the building? While she damn well hoped so, she very much suspected it wouldn't be so easy to kill.
She turned her back on the burning building and wondered why no one was coming to douse the flames.
Even Dunleavy couldn't want the outside interest such a fire might evoke.
'We're very remote,' Michael said, his gaze skating across the building before meeting hers again. 'And there's no one inside, other than the already dead.'
'No strange slug creature?'
'No, unfortunately.' He turned and limped across to the next building. A naked man was sprawled near the front of the building, his body bruised and bloody, his breathing rapid but shallow. Shock for sure.
'We'd better get him inside and get him warm,' she commented.
Michael nodded, and with a grunt of effort, hauled the stranger up onto his shoulder. The surge of fresh blood down his thigh made her worry. The wound was worse than he'd led her to believe, though that was something she should be well used to. Even with his memory short-circuited, he was still playing the same old games and not telling her everything. She couldn't help the smile that teased her lips as she followed him down the street. Obviously, that was something that was never going to change.
Once they'd reached the house, they cleaned up the injured man's wounds and made him as comfortable as possible in the second bedroom. She found several extra blankets, shoving one under his feet to elevate them a little, and throwing the other over him to keep him warm.
'We're going to have to restrain him,' Michael commented, coming into the room with rope.
'We can't. He's injured.'
'He's also a threat. Dunleavy could take his mind at any moment, and while you might believe the fiend has no intention of killing us before tomorrow, I'm not so sure.'
Her gaze skated down to his blood-soaked thigh, and she knew he was right. They couldn't risk serious injury. She took a rope, tying one of the stranger's arms to the bed while Michael tied the other.
'Now, your turn,' she said, as she straightened.
Amusement flirted with his lips. 'Woman, if you want your wicked way with me, all you have to do is ask. You don't need to tie me down.'
