Kiss The Night Goodbye

Kinnard's gaze met hers, the ghostlike depths filled with amusement and scorn. 'Girlie, you're in no position to be threatening me.'

'If you think that, you're a fool.'

'And if you think your vampire is going to come to your rescue, you're a fool. He's either fallen to his death by now, or he's trapped in a hole deep enough to swallow the Empire State Building. Either way, there'll be no last minute reprieve.'

'I don't need a vampire to rescue me.' And Michael wasn't dead or trapped. He was hurt, granted, but he was free and coming for her. His anger and determination burned through the link, a force so great she couldn't reach past it, couldn't tell him she was alive and unhurt. But he'd know, the same way she'd known about him.

'No?' Kinnard's tone was scathing. 'Let's take stock of your situation, then. You're naked. You're tied, legs and arms akimbo for my viewing pleasure. You're in a pentagram that will allow no one to enter but myself and those I serve.'

Meaning she could get out if she somehow managed to get free? That's what his words implied, and she hoped it was true. She began working on the ropes binding her arms, twisting and tugging as imperceptibly as she could while he continued talking.

'And if you're thinking you can raise your fire starting ability, think again. I've changed your particular muting spell to include that little psychic talent.'

Her flames weren't a psychic talent—not according to Seline, anyway. But she wasn't about to disabuse Kinnard of the notion, not when it could be the one thing that saved her.

'I warned you when I first met you that you didn't know as much about me as you thought. You still don't, and that lack of knowledge will kill you.'

He snorted softly. 'I'll have to give you top points for courage, girlie. Ain't many women who'd be feeling so smart-mouthed when lying in the position you're lying in.'

'Ah, but you see, I'm not just a woman. I'm a witch. And over the years I've faced, and defeated, evil far worse than you.' She gave him a cold, hard smile. 'I believe one of them currently rests in the coffin in that alcove above me.'

He hissed at her and stepped forward, his fingers clenching around the ceremonial silver knife shoved carelessly through the belt at his waist.

'And won't your dark gods be pleased if you kill their sacrifice before the appointed time?' She arched an eyebrow, feigning an indifference she didn't feel. 'You think they'll still grant your brother his freedom?'

He hissed again and spun away. She heaved a silent sigh of relief and continued tugging and working at the bonds on her wrists. The left one was definitely looser, but freedom from the ropes was nowhere near close enough.

Life sparked through the link, and the relief she felt belied her earlier tough words. Where are you?

In town, approaching the church. He hesitated. You okay?

He hasn't touched me yet.

His relief was a tidal wave that all but drowned her. I had visions…

So did I. But I don't think he's completed the full ritual yet, and I don't think he'll try anything until then.

I hope you're right.

So did she. I'll try and keep him off balance until you arrive. Maybe he won't notice your arrival until it's too late.

It was a slim hope, but better than nothing. She turned her attention to Kinnard. He was back to mumbling.

'Hey, slug boy.'

He looked up, eyes glimmering with anger. 'You will feel my flesh on yours, you know. You will feel me in you as I tear your limbs apart, and my gods take your heart and then your mind.'

'Like hell.' Yet even as she said the words, fear trembled through her.

Kinnard sucked deep and smiled. 'Ah, there's nothing that tastes quite so good.'

Damn it, she couldn't let him get to her. He wasn't going to get fat on her fear, not if she could do anything to stop it.

'Why the gnome face, Kinnard?' she bit back. 'Why not the pretty boy features? Hell, evil coming from such perfection would terrorize your victims more, wouldn't it?'

'This is the face I was born with, and the one I am most comfortable with.' His mouth twisted. 'Emmett is the pretty boy. Because I'm his twin, I can share his form.'

'And the slug?'

'We come from a family of shifters.'

'And ugly boy got the ugly form?'

Hate glittered in his eyes. Hate and old anger. Yep, this was definitely one of his hot buttons.

'That form is more versatile than most would think.'

'But I bet you weren't exactly welcome amongst the shifter fraternity.' Especially considering what he liked doing while in that form…

He snorted softly. 'They're all—' He stopped and swung around. 'So, your lover is free.'

'You never can keep a good vampire down,' she commented, twisting and tugging on her bonds less cautiously. Now that Kinnard knew Michael was free, her window of escape had decidedly shrunk.

'It won't matter, you know. I'm not foolish enough to leave the church unguarded.'

Even as he spoke, the sounds of fighting began to drift down into their hole.

'And here I thought you didn't have too many conscripts left in town.'

Kinnard flashed her a cold, cruel smile. 'There are the women and the barkeep. And since your vampire considers himself a protector of women, I doubt whether he'd use full force on them. It'll delay him, and in that delay, you'll die.'

He began to murmur again. She knew she couldn't let him complete whatever spell it was he was working on, because if he did, she suspected she'd be gone. The two men on the roof had died with a smile on their faces, and the spell was probably the reason why.

She tilted her head back, her gaze locking on the coffin. Reaching deep, she called forth her flames, putting as much force into them as she could, willing them to burn wood and flesh and bone until there was nothing left, not even dust.

Power burned through her body and leapt from her fingers in a huge ball of fire. Dunleavy made a strangled sound in this throat and flung out a hand. White light darted across the room, clashing with the flames. For an instant, they stopped, as white light and red rolled and boiled around each other in midair.

Another wave of power surged through her, though this time the call was not her doing. It was almost as if the flames themselves were calling for more energy. The fire ball burned brighter, then broke away from the white light and leapt across the coffin.

Kinnard's furious howl wasn't even remotely human. Nikki tugged harder on the ropes, and managed to get one arm free. She twisted, grabbing the rope binding her right wrist and pulling on it as hard as she could.

Air screamed above her. She looked up and saw the hilt of the knife aimed at her head. She threw herself away, the rope burning into her wrist as it bought her to an abrupt halt. The knife hilt smashed across the side of her face, and everything seemed to go red. Skin tore, bone cracked. Despite her vow, she screamed.

There was an answering bellow from above, and fury burned through her mind, through her soul. That was the answer, she thought dazedly. That would free them. Save them.

'Move and she dies,' Kinnard yelled. 'Your choice, vampire.'

'If you don't move, your brother burns.' Michael's voice was cold, harsh.

And weary. Nikki blinked back tears and fought the pain that threatened to sweep her into unconsciousness. Kinnard stood above her, his arm raised, the silver knife glittering in the harsh light of the flames behind them.

'My magic protects my brother. The flames only consume wood.'

She closed her eyes and reached for the link. You can use the flames to attack Kinnard. He won't be expecting that.