Shadow of the Vampire (18 page)

         
A thin shiver of hope traveled up his spine.

         
Run.

         
He willed her faster, visualized her making it out that door and away from this place. In a whirl of dust and wind, Lotharus leapt in front of her, blocking her path.

         
"And where do you think you're going?" he snapped. Alexia gasped to see him in front of her and pivoted to avoid him. But he was too fast. The back of his hand connected with her face. She went flying back the way she had come. Her gun skidded across the floor, stopping right in front of one of the soldiers, who instantly bent to retrieve it. The other soldier fisted Alexia's hair, forcing her to her feet.

         
Already a darkening red mark had spread across her cheekbone. Although she had to be hurting, she wriggled and fought against the soldier's hold, testing it. She barely moved an inch.

         
The sound of a boot shuffling against the floor pulled Declan's attention to the other side of the dungeon. Lotharus stared down at the fallen soldier, kicking him slightly with the toe of his boot. Dead, the soldier didn't move.

         
"You always were a nice shot, Alexia." Lotharus bent, took the coiled whip off the soldier's belt and slowly unraveled it. "Personally, I never cared for guns. It doesn't take much skill to point and shoot. I much prefer the intimacy of hand-to-hand combat. There is nothing quite like facing one's quarry in a duel, with sword, fist or a whip, is there, dragon lord?"

         
Before Declan could reply or even knew what Lotharus was doing, the snap of leather cut through the still air. Alexia whimpered and everything in Declan pulsed in time with his heart until it alone was all he could hear. Although he knew Lotharus spoke by the movement of his lips, and saw the whip slash and bite Alexia's flesh again and again, his world had gone completely silent. Everything before him continued, but it played out in a slow-motion haze.

         
Finally, low, murmured words seeped into his conscious mind.

         
"I said, what's the matter, Derkein?" Lotharus asked with a mocking chuckle. "Aren't you going to help her like she helped you?"

         
Those words rang crystal clear in his mind. The callous precision and truth of them sent dread and self-loathing rolling along his spine. His utter inability to help her brought him to his knees.

         
Lotharus smiled. "That's what I thought."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

         
"ALEX!"

         
Declan shouted her name until his throat burned. But she didn't respond or even move. Worry clawed at him, brutal and unforgiving. Stabbing his hands through the bars, he worked on the padlock, trying to get it loose. Frustrated, he shoved against the rails, pulling and yanking on them frantically.

         
Lotharus had forced him to watch as he had strung Alexia to the wall and beat her mercilessly. At the memory, blistering rage swelled inside him. Guilt and revulsion followed close behind. As much as he'd wanted to look away, he hadn't. Not only had he not wanted to give Lotharus the satisfaction of seeing him upset, he'd tried to be strong for her. And she had fought with all she had. But feeding and healing Declan had weakened her, and Lotharus was just plain stronger. She hadn't had a chance. And worse, it was all because of him.

         
Cradling his skull in his palms, he fought the adrenaline pounding and roaring inside him. Flattening his hands over his temples, he pressed hard, hoping to silence the disconnected thoughts warring within. When that didn't work, he yanked his hands away and let loose a frustrated roar. The sound of something hard and heavy striking the floor by his feet sang in the still dungeon. It took a moment to register that whatever had fallen had come off his body. Puzzled, he looked down.

         
The collar.

         
Declan gasped and brought his hand to his now bare throat. His mind rolled through the past hours, stop ping just before Lotharus had walked in on him and Alexia...her hands on his neck. His gaze flew to her, unconscious across the chamber. She must have un locked the clasp when Lotharus had entered the room with the soldiers.

         
Closing his eyes, Declan channeled his anger, focused it all on firing up the energy stores already thrumming back to life inside him.

         
He focused on breathing, each inhalation fanning the flames, stoking the fire building inside him. Feeding the beast he would need to free himself.

         
In and out. In and out.

         
Anger wouldn't get him out of this box, wouldn't help her. But he knew something that would.

         
Skin humming with renewed energy, power coursing through his veins once more, Declan cocked his head and rolled his shoulders, shifting into his dragon self the instant he had the strength. Before the last scale rolled over his flesh, he opened his mouth, spraying a deluge of dragonfire on the bars.

         
The iron glowed, first red and then white, before it melted like wax from a candle beneath the white-hot flame. The metal dripped down, pooling in a blackened puddle at his feet.

         
Closing his eyes, he bent his head down and ran forward. Declan shouldered through what was left of the bars, feeling only a moment of discomfort as his armored body took the brunt of the impact.

         
The minute he stood upright in the center of the dungeon, his eyes sought her out. Part of his brain recognized he should be escaping, using the information she'd almost died giving him to free himself. The other part screamed that he could not in good conscious leave her here. For, no matter their past, their future, here and now he owed her his life. He knew Alexia was no more than a pawn in whatever jacked-up game Lotharus was playing.

         
The mighty black dragon released a shuddering groan and stepped toward her.

         
Alexia.

         
He couldn't vocalize her name while shifted, but it whispered through his thoughts.

         
Dipping his head, he nudged her cheek with the side of his muzzle, the tough skin warming at the feel of her silken flesh against it. She didn't wake. Narrowing his eyes, he gazed down at her. Faint sprinkles of moonlight cast shadows across her face, illuminating the sullen eyes, deep black circles and beaten skin. The urge to kill Lotharus very, very slowly flooded him.

         
He puffed out a breath. Smoke wafted out of his nostrils, curling around her, hazing his vision. Declan shook his head. Getting angry would do her no good; it would do him no good. He needed to calm down before his rage and hate had the animal inside him lashing out.

         
He let out a quivered exhale and again tipped his snout toward her, inhaling deeply. At first, the acrid and bitter smell of the dungeon pricked his sensitive nose. Then he caught a sniff of it--the slightly sweet, decidedly feminine scent of her. A low purr vibrated his throat. He concentrated on that scent, on her. The fire inside his throat burned out and the dragon receded with a resigning groan.

         
Human once more, Declan ran a hand over her bent head before cupping her cheeks in his hands and lifting her closed eyes to his.

         
"Alexia," he said softly. "Alex, wake up."

         
ALEXIA HEARD SOMEONE CALLING her name. But it sounded so far away. A strange cloud enveloped her, preventing her from seeing anything. She groped her way through the smoke.

         
"Hello?" she called, feeling a bubble of panic rise in her throat when the haze wouldn't lessen despite all her efforts to swipe it away.

         
Spinning in circles, arms jutting out in front of her, she walked in shuffled steps. Then, the next thing she knew, she was falling face-first into a white void. Alexia barely had time to scream before her body jerked and she flattened out. Almost like someone had snapped a harness around her midsection and tightened a bungee cord. Heart still racing, she frowned. Currents of air breezed through her hair and slid past her skin, so she hadn't stopped falling. But she wasn't on the ground, either. Was she flying? She couldn't really be sure, as she had her eyes shut tight. "Alexia."

         
A voice called to her again. Sucking in a breath of courage, she opened her eyes. Miles and miles of purple sky peppered with white, cottonball puffy clouds stretched before her. A laugh bubbled to the top of her throat, and a beaming grin crossed her face. Then she caught sight of a huge black dragon flying beside her. Her first instinct was to scream, but then she saw its sparkling blue eyes, its familiar black wing.

         
Declan?

         
A strange mist around her shimmered, each particle catching light until it shone so brightly it was like looking into the sun. She shrunk back, feeling a great weight slam upon her as the grains turned to sand. Mountains of sand poured on her, pulling her down, closing over her head. No matter how hard she struggled to get free, it piled higher and higher.... "Alex!"

         
She gasped for breath. Panting, her eyes wide with shock, she glanced wildly around, waiting for the wall of deathly sand to collapse on top of her again.

         
Only warm hands enveloped her face. They forced her head still, her gaze to lock on a face. A face she knew. "Declan?"

         
His blue eyes smiled brighter and warmer than his sincere grin. "I thought I'd lost you there for a moment."

         
Alexia closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to dislodge the random and dizzying thoughts still bombarding it. When she opened her eyes, reality came back into glaring focus. Over his broad shoulder, she saw his cell. Noticed the bars were melted and gone. Remembered she'd used her fingerprint identification to unlock his collar the instant Lotharus had entered the dungeon. She moaned and recalled the brutal beating he'd given her afterward. She felt mortified that Declan had seen her at her weakest.

         
"Oh," she said, closing her eyes again, wishing she could forget again.

         
"Alex, stay with me."

         
His deep voice rang in her ears, commanding and yet concerned. A hand petted her cheek, rubbing lightly. Then a warm forehead met hers. The tip of a nose rubbed against hers, whisper soft.

         
When at last she seemed to breathe normally, seemed calm, he let out a sigh. His warm breath melted her lips and feathered against the skin of her neck.

         
"You," he said, the word a combination of a scold and a laugh. "Why did you do it?"

         
Alexia opened her eyes. "Do what?" Speaking, actually talking, brought a new kind of pain to her jaw. One she had not felt in Goddess knew how long. Every muscle in her body tensed, riding out the wave of pain.

         
"Why didn't you leave when I told you to?" he asked. A warm hand floated across her throbbing flesh, taking away some of the ache. "Why did you try and save me?"

         
The answer, the truth, was too much to bare. But she couldn't deny it, couldn't fight it. Not anymore. In fact, she wasn't sure she had any fight left in her at all. Everything seemed too much, too overwhelming. The only thing that made any sense in her crazy world stood in front of her. And that made no sense at all.

         
Alexia stared into his eyes, feeling herself spiral into their depths, wanting to lose herself in them forever. She opened her mouth to answer his question, but what felt like an earthquake rocketed through the cavern. The catacomb walls quaked. Dust sprinkled from the ceiling, which crumbled beneath the weight of whatever had landed above.

         
Declan threw himself over her, shielding her with his body. Warm and hard, his bare chest brushed against her, his head falling into the crook of her neck and his palm covering the back of her head protectively.

         
A roar splintered through the night, vibrating through the air. She felt more than heard Declan's surprised gasp before he leaned off her, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

         
"Dragons," he breathed.

         
She looked from him to the ceiling, frowning when she saw lines of worry marring his handsome brow. She'd expected to see him smiling.

         
"What is it?"

         
He opened his mouth to answer. However, the cadence of marching footfalls pounding on the ground outside the dungeon door stopped him. Declan flattened himself against the wall beside her just as a mile-long line of soldiers rounded the corner. They held their weapons at the ready and moved so fast they did not even spare a glance inside the chamber or notice him loose, his cell bars melted.