Chapter 29

T he tunnels were lit periodically by motion sensor lighting which Hemlock explained Ordell had installed a few years ago while Ezekiel slept. Branwood was a mishmash of old and new, past and present, and I couldn’t help but wonder what our future held.

Despite our banter of earlier about who would be the faster, we kept pace with each other, running steadily, boots slapping on stone, breath warming our faces.

“We’ll be reaching the halfway point soon,” Hemlock said. “If you need a rest.”

“I’m…good.”

He chuckled, not even a little out of breath. I mean, I wasn’t too out of breath myself, but I was feeling the effect of exertion. He, however, sounded like he was lounging on a sofa.

“What’s at the…halfway point…anyway?”

“Old burrows,” he said. “The batlings sleep here when Ezekiel sleeps.”

“And when he’s awake?”

“They have roosts on the roof and in the bell towers.”

“You have a…bell tower?”

“It seems like you need a proper tour of Branwood. Once the curse is lifted, I’ll show you and…” He trailed off. “Or Ezekiel will show you…”

“You could both show me.”

He slid a glance my way, and I caught the yearning in that look, but it was brief, and we were running, just running. A companionable silence fell, just the thud of our feet and the panting of our breath. The tunnel widened and opened into a larger chamber that was so dimly lit I could barely make out the huge holes in the walls. The burrows, no doubt. An arch sat opposite—the tunnel’s continuation.

I took a step, and my boot hit something soft and squishy. I slipped, grabbing out for Hemlock to stop my fall.

He snagged me around the waist and against his frame as I stared at the dark mess beneath my shoe.

Fleshy and bloody and… “Hemlock?” Scuttle scratch scratch. “What was that?”

Hemlock tensed. “Let’s head back.”

“What is it?”

He kept his hold on me, drawing me away from the shadows. “Probably nothing, but my gut says we should?—”

Dark shapes shot out of the burrows and into the chamber. Hemlock wrapped his arms around me, his body vibrating with tension as several batlings surrounded us, red eyes glowing in the gloom.

“Halt!” Hemlock called out. “Stand down!”

A finger of dread slid up my spine as the creatures circled us even as I reminded myself that these were Ezekiel’s minions. They wouldn’t hurt us.

Hemlock released me but laced his fingers through mine. “We’re leaving now.” His voice held command as we took a step toward the tunnel we’d come through.

The batlings closed in.

“What are you doing?” Hemlock asked. “You know who I am.”

The batlings parted to admit a larger gray one. “Barin knows who you are,” he said. “Barin will let you pass. But she stays.” He pointed a finger at me, and ice pooled in my belly. I’d never seen him before, but there was intelligence in his eyes. Like Godor. Except half his face was twisted and mottled with scar tissue that swept down his shoulder and arm.

“She belongs to your master,” Hemlock said.

“We have no master. No longer. No more. We are free.”

“Free? Is that why you’re down here?” Hemlock asked. “Because you’re free?”

He snarled. “Give her or we take, and you will be hurt. I do not wish to hurt you. One chance for the debt owed. One chance you walk away.”

“We need her,” Hemlock said. “She’s the key to breaking the curse.”

“Argh, the curse, the curse. His curse, not ours. Now that he is looking elsewhere, we can finally see. No longer in here.” He tapped his temple. “We see we can be free, curse or no.”

The batlings closed in, and my heart jumped into my throat because we were trapped. There was nowhere to run and no way to fight without weapons.

“GIVE!” Barin lunged at us, and flames leapt up to circle Hemlock and me. Barin fell back, wild-eyed. The others squealed, but Barin stood frozen, chest heaving as he watched the dancing flames, and it hit me that the scars on his body were from burns, and he was terrified, but the terror soon morphed to rage that matched the burning flame before him.

“Cruel,” he spat. “You too cruel.”

“Back up!” Hemlock ordered. “Back up or I’ll burn you all.”

Barin made a series of clicks and squeaks, and the batlings fell back.

Hemlock steered us toward the tunnel, and the flames came with us, protecting us.

I glanced up at him, at the bead of sweat trickling down his brow and the golden veins crawling up from beneath the collar of his shirt.

“Hemlock…”

He clenched his teeth and shook his head in warning.

We passed into the tunnel, and he squeezed my hand. “Run.” The flames winked out, and we ran.

The sounds of pursuit turned my bowels liquid, but I focused on the path ahead, on keeping up with Hemlock. The exit was only a few minutes away at this pace.

But the batlings were fast too. I could sense them getting close, gaining on us. Hemlock must have done so too because he threw a jet of flame down the tunnel to slow them down.

They fell back for a moment, but Barin yelled at them to push forward. To not be afraid. “He cannot use his power much more.”

Shit.

The gold veins skimmed Hemlock’s jaw now. But he threw another jet of flame anyway.

Oh God, his hand was hot enough to burn me now.

He was using too much power. How much farther?

The batlings screeched in triumph because we were slowing.

Hemlock was slowing.

He ground us to a halt, spun, and erected a wall of flame between us and them. “Run!” he said to me. “I’ll be right behind you.”

The veins inched up his cheeks. The batlings wanted me, and staying forced Hemlock to protect me. But the veins, the power inside him was surging. He’d told me once that if it wasn’t controlled then he’d detonate. He was risking that for me now.

How much longer could he use his power before it burned him up?

I had to go. I had to leave him.

But my feet remained rooted.

“Go…” Hemlock ground out.

Heat circled my arm as my blessed mark activated, power surging through me as if…as if I was wielding my conduit. But I wasn’t. The power shot down into my hand, an inferno of agony, but my scream was muffled beneath a wave of screeches coming from behind us. A fresh wave of batlings.

The inferno died.

Hemlock dropped the fire wall as shadows rushed across the tunnel ceilings and walls.

The wave of batlings attacked Barin and his minions.

“Now fucking run!” Hemlock ordered.

This time I obliged.

I helped Hemlock into his room. His body was scorching hot and uncomfortable to touch, so it was a relief when he pushed me away. “The whip, the fucking whip.”

I grabbed it from his drawer as he tore off his shirt and fell to his knees.

I stifled a cry at the sight of his bare skin, lit up with a network of fiery fracture lines.

“Hit me!” he ordered.

I lashed out, over and over, not holding back, knowing that he needed this to subdue whatever the fuck was going on with him. His grunts of pain clawed at me, and sobs stuck in my throat.

I hit him again and again, tearing up his back as the fractures pulsed, fighting me.

“Harder!”

My arm ached. My chest hurt. I hit him with all my might until his back wascovered in rivers of blood and the glowing veins sank back into his body, and only then did his grunts morph to something else. Something low and aching.

A sob of relief finally from my lips, even as the pulse at my groin throbbed.

He moaned on the next lash and fell forward, palms on the ground.

I stopped hitting him.

“No…Again. Orina. Again.”

Fuck. I lashed once more.

He jerked and cried out, the sound one of release, and my pussy flooded with heat.

I dropped my arm, the whip hanging limply from my hand because it was over.

He was safe.

He stood slowly, his bloody back to me. “I need to…need to shower and—” He staggered, and I rushed forward to brace him, accidentally pressing my arm to his wounds.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry, oh fuck.”

“I’m fine.” He pulled away from me and staggered toward the washroom.

I followed. “Let me help.”

He chuckled dryly. “You in the shower with me? I’m not a fucking saint, kitten.” He stepped inside and closed the door.

The water started up a moment later.

I sat on the bed and waited. There was no way I was leaving him until I was certain he was okay.

He emerged a few minutes later in a black tee and loose black pants. Did he keep clothes in his washroom?

“Why didn’t you leave when I asked you to?” Hemlock said. “In the tunnel…I asked you to go, and you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t. Something made me stay and…And what if I had left? What would you have done? Held them off and detonated?”

“If that’s what it took to keep you safe, then yes.”

His words knocked the air from my lungs, but his next ones had my heart sinking a little.

“You’re vital to Ezekiel. To the world. I’m dispensable,” he said.

“No. You’re not.” I approached him slowly. “Why would you think that way?”

“It’s a fact, kitten, and you know it. We need you and Ezekiel to keep Loviator locked up, I’m superfluous to the equation. Whether I live or die doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

He exhaled sharply, but then his eyes narrowed. “I think you’re getting things a little twisted, kitten. Everything I do is for the bigger picture. That involves keeping you comfortable in the safe room and saving your life. It’s my job, that’s all.”

His words stung, and my face burned with embarrassment. Had I been reading too much into our interactions?

His mouth tightened. “Now if we’re done here, I need to check on Godor, find out what’s happening with Barin, and secure the tunnels again.”

“The padlock…”

“It had a good reason for being there. You can wait in your room and?—”

“I’ll come with you.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but I didn’t give him the opportunity, yanking open the door and stepping into the corridor. “Well, come on. Let’s go find him.”

Maybe Hemlock was simply doing his duty by protecting me, or maybe he felt more and didn’t want to. Either way, I had to be true to myself and my feelings, and there was no denying that I cared about this man. Whether he liked it or not.