Chapter 12

Zylas heard my telepathic warning. Holding my limp form, he kicked the artifact off the platform, then jammed his foot against the dead vampire and shoved. The body rolled limply. With a second kick, it tumbled over the edge and hit the black water with a splash.

He took two quick steps, then froze, head cocked as he listened. Hissing under his breath, he threw me over his shoulder, the air whooshing from my lungs. With a powerful leap, he grabbed the lip of a pipe high on the wall and hauled us up with one arm, then pushed me into the confined space.

Water drenched my front. Zylas shoved me in deeper, then crawled in after me. As I spluttered helplessly, he tugged on the back of my sweater to get my head out of the water.

"Quiet," he whispered.

Somewhere in the main channel, voices echoed beneath the ever-present noise.

Zylas scooted deeper into the pipe's confines, pushing me ahead of him. Icy water washed over me, stealing the last of my body heat. I shivered violently as more sensation returned to my body.

With half his attention on the opening into the main channel, Zylas reached for his shoulder. His dexterous fingers snapped across the leather straps of his chest plate and they came apart. He shoved the armor off so it hung behind his left arm, then lifted the fabric underlayer over his head.

Beneath the numbing cold and fear, confusion buzzed through my head.

He unbuckled his armguard and set it just above the line of flowing water, then stripped the fabric from his arms.

"What…" I slurred in a whisper, "are… you…"

Turning to me, he grasped the bottom of my sweater and pulled it up.

I squeaked in disbelief, feebly twisting away. He dragged the soaked material over my head and tossed it aside. I forced my shaking arms up to cover my bra.

Zylas!I cried furiously in my head. Stop—

His hands closed around my waist. Vertigo swept over me as he pulled me up—and the next thing I knew, I was sprawled on top of him as he leaned back into the curved pipe, his knees bent and feet pressed against the opposite side.

He held me down, forcing our bodies together. My bare front pressed against his naked torso—and heat blazed from his skin into mine. Gasping, I instinctively pressed into his warmth. His hot arms banded across my icy back.

Holy crap, he was warm.

My chilled skin burned from his body heat. He was hotter than any human—or, at least, any human without a dangerous fever. I burrowed my frozen face into the side of his neck, only then realizing that my glasses were missing, lost in the turbulent water.

Somewhere outside our hiding spot, voices sounded louder than before.

"… smell blood…"

"… missing… do you see…"

"… who killed…"

"… keep searching!"

The words bounced off the walls, half lost in the water's din. Vampires. More than one, and they were close. Would they find us hiding in this pipe? If they did, we had no escape. We were trapped.

Fear prickled over my skin and adrenaline sharpened my fuzzy brain. As my head cleared, my attention diverted from the voices to something far more immediate: Zylas's warm hands running up and down my bare arms.

I was on top of Zylas.

No, not just on top. I was straddling him, my thighs pressed against his hips, my knees squeezing his sides. Our naked torsos were pressed tight together, skin against skin. My arms were tucked in close, hands gripping his bare shoulders as he rubbed more warmth into me.

With a mortified gasp, I shoved backward. Icy air hit my bare front, and as his gaze snapped from the pipe's opening to me, I clamped my arms over my chest.

His mouth thinned in annoyance, then he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back down.

"Zylas!" I hissed frantically, struggling to free myself. "Let me go!"

"You lost too much heat," he growled. "Share mine, stubborn drādah."

I gave one more desperate shove against his immovable arms, then slumped in defeat. The hottest blush in the history of blushes burned my cheeks as I rested my face against his shoulder.

Zylas stared at the pipe's opening, his jaw tight—though whether with worry over the vampires' proximity or annoyance with the stupid human, I didn't know. As voices bounced through the cavernous channel, he tilted his head to catch the words with his sensitive hearing.

Something banged in the distance and Zylas gave the slightest start. I tensed in response, my blush reigniting and uncomfortable butterflies swirling through my gut. He stretched his neck, an ear tilted toward the sounds—and his hand slid up the length of my spine.

I shuddered from head to toe.

His eyes returned to me, fixing on my face. I peered up at him, frozen and unmoving, and he stared back, his expression a mystery in the near darkness.

Seizing my arms, he pushed me back against his thighs, his knees bent to keep his body—and mine—out of the water. As I blinked dumbly, he pulled his gear back into place and buckled the leather straps over his shoulder.

He found my shirt and wrung it out, then offered it to me. I snatched it from his hands, shook out the sleeves, and pulled it over my head. Gasping as the cold, damp fabric settled against my newly warmed skin, I suppressed another shiver.

"They have left this spot," Zylas whispered. "We will go now."

I nodded, distracted by the fact I was still straddling his waist.

"I will carry you," he said. "You must hold on."

"What—"

He nudged me off him. My knees splashed into the water and the cold burned. I'd forgotten how frigid it was. How hypothermic had I been before Zylas warmed me up? He'd probably saved my life with that alone.

Crouched in the flowing water, he caught my wrist and pulled me against his back. I gripped his shoulders, gulped hard, then wrapped my legs tightly around his waist. Scooting forward, he ducked low under the pipe's curved ceiling and cautiously approached the opening.

I squinted in the dim light. Without my glasses, the main channel was unpleasantly blurry, but I could tell the water had risen. The frothing current splashed onto the concrete platform and violent streams poured from the connecting pipelines.

Zylas squeezed my thigh in warning and I tightened my legs around him, sliding one hand under his leather shoulder strap for a better grip.

He sprang out of the pipe and landed on the platform in a crouch. I clamped myself around him as he sped down the platform and cut through an icy torrent from another pipe. Water drenched my clothes all over again.

We came out the other side. The platform stretched on and Zylas broke into a smooth trot past small light bulbs hanging from rusted nails. Now that I wasn't hypothermic, I knew why the sight had unnerved me. The lighting was a rudimentary addition to the channel's original construction. I should've realized the lights meant people—or rather, vampires—had taken up residence down here.

Zylas zoomed past pipes and tunnels, large and small, each one disgorging runoff into the main channel. At a seemingly random point, he slowed, turned, and sprang into a tunnel as large as the one Zora had led us down earlier.

"How do you know which way to go?" I muttered.

"This one smells like blood."

He sloshed through the thigh-deep water, fighting the current. His foot slipped and he lurched, grabbing the wall for balance. I gripped him more tightly. If I fell, I'd be swept right back into the main channel.

He waded upstream, the tunnel growing darker and darker as we left the lights behind. Ahead was an opening—another offshoot. Zylas hopped into it and ducked so neither of us hit our heads. Only the smallest trickle of water ran out and the walls were dry. More small bulbs hung from a long wire, casting a soft glow across the grimy walls.

Voices echoed down the tunnel.

Zylas prowled closer. The tunnel ran at a slight curve, hindering our view, and he drew to a stop. He sniffed at the air, then tapped my leg. Unclamping my limbs, I slid off his back. He started forward and I followed two steps behind.

Around the curve, I glimpsed moving shadows. People with dark clothing, thin builds, and no sign of gear or weapons. Vampires.

Gaze locked on the enemy, Zylas reached back and nudged my hip. I stopped. He took three more stalking steps, then coiled his body. His fingers curled, claws unsheathing.

"—can't get a signal." The vampire's gravelly voice reached us. His silhouette held up a small object. "If we don't report the—"

Zylas launched into a charge. The vampires didn't see him until he was almost on top of them, and only then did crimson magic rush up his arms in glowing veins. Six-inch scarlet talons formed at the ends of his fingers.

I knew he wanted me to wait, but I bolted after him. As he slammed into the vampire trio, claws tearing and the creatures shouting, I homed in on the one who'd spoken. Zylas rammed his talons into the vampire's heart, killing the fae spirit inside him, and the small object the man was holding spun through the air.

I ran forward, hands outstretched. The object bounced off my fingertips and flipped end over end. I snatched it out of the air.

Wow, I'd caught it? And without my glasses too.

The last vampire crumpled under Zylas's claws, and he turned to me with a questioning look. I uncurled my fingers. A small flip phone rested on my palm.

The vampires' other belongings were scattered around us—heaps of tattered fabric, garbage bags of who knew what, a disgusting amount of trash, and for some bizarre reason, a rusty shopping cart. Farther into the tunnel, a tarp formed a tent-like shelter, and sleeping bags were bundled in the corner. This section of tunnel was dry, suggesting a blockage somewhere along the line, and it stank.

Reallystank.

Zylas's magic faded from his arms and the darkness around us deepened—but not so much that I didn't notice the metal rungs on the wall beside him. Shoving the phone in my wet pocket, I rushed toward the ladder and grabbed the bottom rung—so high above my head I could barely reach it.

Hands closing over my waist, Zylas lifted me. I scrambled onto the rungs and rushed upward. A grate waited at the top of the chute and a streetlamp's orange glow leaked through it. I pushed on the metal, but it didn't shift.

"I can't…" I looked down. Zylas stood at the bottom, head tipped back as he watched me. "I can't open it."

"Weak drādah. Try harder."

Bracing my forearm against the grate, I shoved with all my strength. The grate tilted up, then tipped over and hit the pavement with an ear-splitting clang.

I heaved myself out of the chute and collapsed beside it, panting with relief. An anonymous back alley surrounded me—towering buildings and concrete walls interrupted by blank metal doors and loading bays.

The infernus flared with light and heat. A streak of crimson power leaped from the chute, hit the silver pendant, and vanished inside it. My fingers closed around the warm disc, the center carved with the sigil of Zylas's House.

"We did it," I whispered, scarcely able to believe I was alive.