In the Dark (18 page)

Elin cringed, defeated. “There's a small abbey north of us.”

Chapter 19

Elin had instructed her to head north, and she had, frequently glancing at the compass gripped in her palm. Keeping up a brisk pace over the countryside, she moved as silently as she could in the beaded emerald gown. She'd had little choice when it came to her attire. Those in Valenna wouldn't believe her to be vampire if she strolled up to the city in jeans. She lifted the gown away from her feet, cursing it almost as much as the matching pair of heels she now held.

Each step brought her closer to an uncertain fate, and she bolstered her courage with the fact that she was now vampire. Only demons and other vampires could harm her. Oh, and the sun. She'd almost forgotten it could fry her on the spot.

On second thought, she took it back. She was officially worse off than when she'd been human.

Faith shook her head to clear the fears and doubts from her mind. They wouldn't help her find Soren.

Her bare feet sank into the cool, lush grass as she climbed the hill. A steeple stood out against the night sky just over the hilltop. This must be the abbey.

Overgrown and unkempt vines crawled from the grass and over the few steps to the door. She would have guessed it deserted if Elin hadn't told her that Valenna lay beneath the abbey, just as Balinese hid under a chateau.

She put her shoes on, took a deep breath, then let her gown drop to the ground. What she'd planned terrified her. Soren's life might depend on her pulling off a feat she'd never attempted. Acting.

Gaze fixed on the arched wooden door, she slowed and moved with languid grace. The gown swept past her ankles with each step, the beads rustled softly. With her bare shoulders catching the moonlight and the chiffon flowing around her, she no doubt looked more like an apparition than a flesh and blood woman.

Her stomach twisted in knots as she sailed straight into danger. Yet somehow she was able to concentrate on keeping her heels from sinking into the grass and dirt. Several minutes passed in a blink, and the abbey loomed before her.

She didn't waver from her set path, not even as a tall, bulky man stepped from the shadows, blocking the entrance.

“Hello,” she said in the sultriest timbre she could manage, smiling sweetly.

A second man stepped into the moonlight, leering at her through a tangled beard. Revolting. It took all the willpower she possessed to keep her lip from curling.

“I require entry to Valenna,” she said regally, meeting his eyes.

The bearded man reached out, twisted his arm around her waist and crushed her against him. “You want in, sweets? You have to pay me a toll first.” A broad grin broke across his face.

The other man laughed.

“I'm here for your captain, and I doubt he would appreciate you touching something that belongs to him,” she said smoothly, forcing her body to relax.

“Want to see my captain?” His skeptical gaze swept over her through narrowed eyes. “Do you even know his name, little pigeon?”

Faith smiled, attempting sensual feminine pride. “If I told you what I call him, he'd have both our heads.”

He instantly dropped his arm from her waist. She'd either become scorching hot to the touch, or he seriously feared his captain's wrath.

“Follow me,” the taller man snapped, taking control of the situation. Elin had been correct. Neither man had been willing to cross their captain.

The man entered the abbey, and impatiently waited for her on the other side of the dark doorway. Faith chased after him, and kept her mouth shut. Without knowing what might give her away, she refused to take the risk.

This rescue had been based on a lot of assumptions. First, she should be placed in the captain's office. Second, the captain's office should be near the prisons. Third, the captain should be working and away from his office at this time of night. Fourth, Soren would logically be placed in the prisons. And finally, she assumed and prayed that he still lived.

How many times she'd prayed tonight, she couldn't even begin to count.

She hurried behind the man as they passed through the center of the abbey, between the simple wooden pews, and to the alter. He then turned left sharply, opened a narrow door and beckoned her inside.

Soren was in their city. She squared her shoulders and nodded, stayed on the Guardian's heels. The torches brightly lit the spiral stone staircase, creating a sense of claustrophobia.

He moved fast, and she kept pace, skimming her hand along the wall to steady her balance. The stairs ended, and she was in a rough stone corridor, much like the entry to Balinese.

The man held open the door to a small room, and waited for her to step inside. She entered, and the guard followed her in, closed the door solidly behind him. Only a desk and a single ladder-back chair stood in the room. This was not the captain's office.

The man pulled out his radio, lifted it to his lips. “I have a woman in the holding room,” he said. “Says she's here to see you.”

Her heartbeat skyrocketed as the captain responded immediately, “On my way.”

“Now, why would a mated woman risk death to dally with our captain?” Her escort sat on the corner of the desk, making a show of scratching the underside of his chin. “Who are you?”

Faith had no answer. She'd already used her lie, and the truth wouldn't help her.

A pounding knock at the door saved her, for the moment. The man jumped off the desk and gripped the handle, swung open the door.

An arm shot into view and punched the man right in the nose. He stumbled backward, dazed, shaking his head, his vision probably unclear. Then he was struck again. Harder. This time he crumpled, his head thumping against the stones as he landed.

Elin popped in, dressed head to toe in black, her hair slicked away from her face in a ponytail. “Are you all right?” she whispered.

“You knocked him out. How did you do that?” The man had towered over Elin.

“Brass knuckles on a knife hilt. Don't leave home without it,” she said, showing the weapon. “Better than breaking my fingers on his ugly face.”

Elin stepped over the man and grabbed his arm. Faith took the other. Together they towed his heavy body into the room.

“I think you broke his nose,” Faith said, eyeing him as if he would wake at any moment.

“He'll live. Let's go.” Elin dashed for the door.

Faith grabbed her arm, pulled her to a stop. “He radioed the captain. He's on his way here.”

“Then let's go fast.” Elin peeked out of the room, then motioned for her to follow.

In the movies, heroines running in heels got caught by the bad guys, so she took them off and dropped them, stepped over the unconscious man and raced after Elin, straight ahead, into what hopefully, would be the heart of the city.

It didn't take long before the corridor branched into an odd four-way intersection. The left and right had been straight and clear, but they needed to go forward. The corridor straight ahead arched to the left. Danger would be impossible to see coming, but Elin surged ahead, and she ran after her.

The chatter of approaching men echoed from ahead of them. Elin's outstretched arm smacked her in the stomach, stopping her from going any farther. Elin like a statue beside her, she stood still for a moment, listening.

“Durant isn't answering,” a volatile-sounding male shouted. “Get to the holding room. Now.”

Heavy footsteps followed those words. Heart pounding furiously, she and Elin spun around, and sprinted back the way they'd come. She couldn't keep pace.

At the vacant intersection, Elin grabbed her arm, pulling her to the left. After shooting past a closed door on the right, two tall doors on the left, finally there was hope. Music seeped down the hall through a door cracked open ahead.

Having been tugged inside by her companion, when faced with a crowd of people scattered throughout the room, she wanted to turn around and run again.

Elin squeezed her shoulder, not allowing her to retreat. “The best place to hide is in a crowd. You can do this,” she whispered.

She and her friend drew a curious glance or two, but to Faith's utter dismay, they were not questioned or stopped. In this bar-like atmosphere, everyone simply went back to the rather unsavory things they'd been doing.

A decent sized man stalked to them, and she nearly bolted, but Elin still gripped her shoulder. The man snatched a drunken beauty several feet from them, and tossed her over his shoulder. He carried her to the bar and pressed her against the counter as he drank from her neck in the middle of a room full of people.

“I thought that was...” Faith didn't finish the sentence, or look away.

“It's as private and personal as sex. At least it should be.” Elin kept them moving, slipping through the crowd.

Elin pulled her out of the way, preventing her from being crushed by two rowdy men. They pulverized each other with their fists and their friends tossed coins onto the table, betting on the winner.

“It's an underground Tortuga,” Faith said in horror.

“And then some. A pirate wouldn't last long here.” She pointed out the man who had started using his teeth to win the fight. Faith didn't have a chance to voice her disgust. Elin grasped her hand and tugged, shifting her attention. “There's another door.”

Careful to avoid eye contact or bump into anyone on the way out, they weaved through the room. They didn't have time to start a fight, let alone finish one.

Elin peeked out the door, then swiftly ducked back inside. “Now.” She darted from the room, heading to the same corridor the Guardians had just run through.

“Are you sure?”

“They're headed for the entrance. If that Guardian wakes up he'll describe us perfectly. We don't have much time.” Elin whipped around the corner.

At her friend's heels, Faith whispered between gulps of air, “Where's the prison?”

“We need to find the arena. Every city has one, and the prisons are always below. It should be in the center of the city.”

“How do we know where the center is?”

“Good question. Should be near the gardens.” Elin paused where a Y-junction split the corridor. Two identical corridors lay before them, their carved wooden arches seeming tacked on as an afterthought. These hallways had no rhyme or reason. The rounded walls and low ceilings gave the impression that these people had tunneled through without intending to stay.

“They look the same,” Faith said, her shoulders slumped. They couldn't separate, and if their guess was wrong it could cost them dearly.

“Stay here.” Elin ran several feet up the left corridor, stopped, stood completely motionless then returned and darted down the righthand corridor.

Faith glanced behind them, flinching at every rolling echo.

“Left,” Elin said suddenly, and in a heartbeat they took off.

“Why left?” Her bare feet slapped the cool stones as she raced to keep up with Elin.

“The left side is warmer. A garden would need the heat,” Elin said as she ran, repeatedly looking over her shoulder.

The dim corridor brightened as it curved left gently, and Faith stepped into the humid garden air. The tunnel walls opened wide, and the stone floor disappeared, replaced by a mossy pathway. Trickling water bounced off the thick leaves above, dripping around them in this created jungle.

No people strolled along. No Guardians kept watch. Good for them, but strange.

Fifteen-foot trees stood to her left, too tall to see over, but to her right a massive round wall peeked through thick, green vines. “There.” She pointed, and they were running again.

Ignoring the main doors, they followed the giant wall away from the gardens and into a dark, barren corridor.

Elin stopped at a small door and pushed it open quietly, listening for movement. The stench of blood and rotted flesh swept up the stairwell. Faith's stomach lurched. They'd found the jail.

“Sounds clear. Go on down. Find Soren.” Elin hustled her through the door.

“I can't leave you alone.”

“That captain isn't stupid. He'll end up here. Move fast.” Elin pulled her knife out, prepared to stand her ground for them.

Soren was all that mattered, and trying to change her protector's mind, a waste of precious time. The damp, chilled air engulfed her as she raced down the stairs. She paused as her feet hit the dirt floor. The open area before her was empty, the inanimate occupants two tables and a dozen chairs. No guards to stop her search.

The single light over the tables didn't illuminate the cells, and without light, she wouldn't be able to find Soren unless she peered into each cell.

She searched the grim aisle to her left first because the light shone slightly brighter there. The combination of dirt and stone grated on her feet, but it didn't slow her down.

Her vision had improved some with her change to vampire, but dark was still dark, and she strained to find a person in each cell. The prisoners hadn't been helpful. They melted into the darkest corners.

The man in the first cell was too thin and short. The second was a woman, and the third, dead.

* * * *

Soren propped his torso against the stones. Each muscle contracting sent shards of pain skittering over his side. Knowing what a good bleeding accomplished and experiencing one firsthand were two entirely different things. His body had weakened immediately, rendering him helpless, like he'd been drugged. The journey to this fetid prison, or what had been said around him, remained a haze. It had been easy for the Guardians to haul him into a jail cell.

He'd done his duty, stood before the lady of Valenna and her council, relayed vital news. He believed their concern genuine, until the captain bled him. All the experience in the world wouldn't have prepared him for their treachery.

Eyes closed, he let his head sag against the bars. They would come to kill him eventually. Sooner rather than later, if they were smart.

“Soren.” A harsh feminine whisper reverberated through the dank prison. “Where are you? I can't see anything.”