His gaze slid to the town. She grabbed his arm, wrapping her fingers around his cold, almost slimy, flesh and called to the fire deep within. Flames responded, leaping from fingertip to fingertip, touching, but not really burning, his skin. Kinnard's eyes widened in surprise and, perhaps, a touch of fear.
"You hurt any more of those people down in that town,” she said, keeping her voice flat, “and I'll hunt you down and burn you to cinders."
He jerked his arm free and stepped back. His flesh was white were she'd touched, her fingerprints seemingly burned into his arms.
"You try that, and your vampire lover dies."
"I don't think your master is going to be too impressed if you kill one of the two vital elements he needs to bring his brother back to life."
Kinnard snarled at her. It was her turn to grin. “Yeah, I figured it out. I may be blonde, but I ain't dumb."
"Aren't you?” He snorted softly. “Then why are you here, rather than finding the man who will die in an hour's time?"
She stared at him, her heart racing. No one else was supposed to be killed. Dunleavy had only set that task to keep her occupied—hadn't he?
Yet, Seline had warned five would die. Surely though, the sacrifices would be in that number. Unless, of course, Emmett Dunleavy had killed more people than Seline was aware of. But if that were the case, how did Weylin know? He'd been nowhere near Hartwood when his had brother died. Or had he?
Realizing Kinnard was waiting for a reply, she said, “Dunleavy's changing the rules already? We must be closer than I thought."
Kinnard hawked and spat. She shifted her foot, and the glob landed in the dust near her toes.
"It's Dunleavy's game you're playing. He can do what he wants."
"Not for much longer."
The old man merely grinned. “You wanna bet, girlie?"
"Not with a lecher like you."
"And not when you know the odds are on our side."
She stepped back. She wasn't about to get into a war of words with this man—not when she had a feeling that's exactly what he intended. “Remember what I said, Kinnard. You kill someone else, and you burn."
She turned and walked away, but his gaze followed her down the slope—piercing her spine and sending chills racing across her skin.
And yet, when she looked over her shoulder, Kinnard was gone. His stare had been imagination, nothing more.
Hadn't it?
Somehow, she suspected not. He was still watching her, even if she could no longer see him. The foul caress of his gaze still burned deep.
She turned a corner and, finally, the sense of him watching disappeared. She blew out a relieved breath and let her gaze roam across the old buildings crowding the main street. It was extremely quiet. Either everyone had finally passed out from all the booze they'd consumed over the last few days, or Dunleavy had decided it was better to keep them docile and conserve his strength in the process. Her gaze went to the two-story building at the end of the street. Though the day was still reasonably bright, the whorehouse's roof seemed oddly locked in mist. It was as if the clouds that raced the threat of rain towards them had paused for breath over that particular building. Even from where she stood, she could feel the tremble of electricity in the air.>"You don't want to know,” Michael commented, his lips caressing her ear as he spoke. “Are you okay?" She nodded, wondering if he even realized he'd read her thoughts. “What's that dripping?"
"Water.” He lifted himself off her and touched her arm, gently assisting her into a sitting position. Despite his warning, she couldn't help looking. What was left of the woman didn't really resemble anything human. Just a bloody, shapeless, mass.
She briefly closed her eyes, then opened them and took a deep breath. “At least it would have been quick."
"Yes.” His confirmation didn't ease her conscience any. His thumb brushed at the moisture on her cheek, a gesture as gentle and as caring as the look in his eyes. “You gained a few cuts in the explosion."
"So did you.” She carefully wiped away the smear of blood from his chin. “Are you hurt anywhere else?"
"My back.” He shrugged. “Nothing major."
She gave him a deadpan look. “I saw your version of nothing major with your shoulder. Turn around."
"I do not think this is the time or—"
"If you'd just stop arguing about everything and do as I ask, it would have been over with hours ago."