No Humans Involved (Otherworld 7)

"Hmmm."

Not a terribly reassuring response. Elena had told me before

that werewolves confuse other animals, that mix of wolf and human, and when confused and faced with a larger potential predator, they run. We'd had problems with the rats in Toronto only because they'd been infected and acting irrationally.

The chattering grew louder as the smell got worse. Mud oozed between my toes. And if it wasn't mud, I didn't want to know about it. I stepped on something that crackled under my toes, hard and thin like twigs...or bones.

"Almost past," Jeremy whispered. "When we reach the entrance to the nest, I'm going to stop and swing you by. All right?"

"Thanks."

A hiss in the darkness. I froze, my hands falling from Jeremy's hips as he kept moving. A loud chatter sounded right at my feet. I resisted the urge to kick and danced backward instead, wildly looking around, seeing only blackness.

"Jaime?"

Another hiss. I stumbled back. My foot slid in the muck and--

Jeremy's hands caught me around the waist and swooped me up.

"Grab my neck and hold on."

As I slid my hands around his neck, my fingertips brushed through his hair, then down along the back of his neck. Just bad aim, of course. Couldn't expect me to see in the dark.

He took two steps, then stopped and cursed under his breath. More hissing. The scrabbling of tiny claws on concrete. The enraged shriek of a rat defending its nest, and I knew our path was blocked.

Jeremy made the low growling noise that had scared off the cat. A few rats' shrieks turned to panic, but more just kept chattering. Jeremy jerked back as he kicked a rat. I resisted the urge to bury my face in his chest like some nineteenth-century heroine.

"Hold on," he murmured. "This is going to take a stronger warning."

I tightened my grip. He twisted, as if leaning away from me, and let out a snarl that resounded through the tunnel. The rats squealed, claws scraping the concrete as they ran.

Jeremy took a few steps, getting us past the rats' nest, then lowered his lips to my ear. "My apologies. That wasn't very civilized."

I wasn't complaining. It'd worked on me too...though not in the same way. I readjusted my grip, pressing closer. His lips brushed my ear, sending a delicious chill down my neck.

"Sorry," he murmured, mouth still at my ear, breath hot on my neck. Then he straightened. "We should keep going."

I agreed wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, he meant walking. And just when I'd started thinking sex in a dank, rat-infested tunnel wouldn't be so bad after all. It would certainly be a first and, with me, that wasn't easy.

I rested in his arms, enjoying the heat of his body, the smell of him blocking the stench of the tunnel. After a few minutes, though, that twenty-first-century independent woman started nagging at me and, with a silent sigh, I said, "We're far enough away. You can put me down."

"I could. But the tunnel is wide enough here for me to carry you and, from the smell, people use this end, so I suspect there's a discarded needle or two on the ground. Not something you should step on in bare feet."

Couldn't argue with that. Another minute and we could see dim light. We soon reached the source--moonlight streaming through a partly boarded-up exit.

Jeremy put me down and I pulled on my shoes. Then we squeezed out through the door and found ourselves at the bottom of stairs leading from a parking lot to the basement door of some building.

We finally escaped the putrid, rat-infested tunnel, only to step out into a cold drizzling rain. Never fails. I catch a break and I pay for it. The story of my life.

So we ran, shivering and wet, from under one overhang to the next. Jeremy gave me his coat, and I didn't argue. We finally reached the street and darted under a store awning.

"Not the safe fact-finding mission you had in mind, was it?" Jeremy said. "Are you all right?"

"Sure. It was fun."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "Fun?"

"Well, fun is probably pushing it but, hey, this is the first adventure I've survived without being kidnapped, attacked, knocked unconscious or possessed by evil spirits. A ripped blouse? Ruined skirt? Bad hair? I'd call this progress."