Michael hit the ground with enough force to jar just about every bone in his body. For a second, he lay on his back and listened to the silence.

Other than the odd scuttling beetle, there didn't seem to be anything down here with him.

"Michael?” Nikki appeared above him, her body backlit by the sunlight in the room behind her, making her blonde hair appear a more natural brown.

He blinked. Nikki?

Emotion flooded the link, wrapping him so tightly in joy and love that for a moment he couldn't even breathe. Not that he actually needed to.

You remembered!

Finally. He grimaced. I'm sorry it took me so long.

Better late than never. You hurt?

No. He pushed to his feet and looked around. The room was small and square, the walls bare rock. Old wooden shelves lined the wall near what was the stairs. They were filled with an assortment of old cans, bottles, and other whatnots.

On the opposite side of the room, what looked like another storage area had been carved into the rock itself, and in this sat a long wooden box. Unlike the shelving, the box looked brand new.

He looked up at Nikki. It's not much of a jump. You want to come down or not?

How will I get back up?

I'll boost you.

Then I'll come down.

She knelt on the second step and climbed over the edge, hanging by her fingertips for several seconds before she let go. He steadied her as she hit the ground, keeping her upright. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly. It was a kiss he was more than ready to return.

Welcome back, she thought when they finally parted.

He smiled. I'm not sure all my memories have returned, but at least now I can call you something more than woman.

Thank God. She turned around, scanning the room in the same careful manner he had. What's that? She pointed towards the box. Flames leapt across her fingers as she did so, throwing warm light across the darkness.

I don't know yet. It seems to be lined inside, because I can't see past the wood.

He walked over to the alcove. The box was about six feet long, made of rough-hewn planks, and was hinged and locked at the top.

You know, she said, a touch of uncertainty running through her mind voice. That looks an awful lot like a coffin.

The graveyard is on the outskirts of town. They wouldn't be burying the dead in the church cellar. Yet he had to agree with her—it did look an awful lot like a coffin.

He grabbed the old padlock and felt energy run across his fingertips. Some kind of magic protected whatever was inside the box.

Stand back, he warned. Just in case.

She stepped back. He tightened his grip and pulled back as hard as he could, wrenching the lock away from the box.

No magic, she said, relief evident. In the heat of her flames, her eyes appeared to glow a rich, warm gold.

There's magic inside. He undid the clasp and carefully lifted the lid. He wasn't sure what he expected to find, but it really wasn't a body.

Ohmigod, she said, peering past him. It's Weylin.

Emmett, not Weylin, he said grimly, recognizing the small differences. The fatter cheeks, the scar near the eye. The sour, almost petulant, look to his mouth.

Her eyes widened. But Emmett's been dead for close to a hundred years! He can't possibly be this well preserved!

He can, and is, with the aid of magic. He skimmed his hand across the top of the box. Power crawled across his skin, stinging like bees.

But—She hesitated, the horror in her amber eyes stronger. Why?

The soul needs a proper house. In this case, it's original body.

She swallowed convulsively. How could Weylin have maintained the spell all these years?

It would take regular sacrifices. He glanced at the floor. In the light of the fire dancing across her fingers, it appeared to be nothing more than dirt, but when he switched to vampire vision, the stains of old blood leapt to life.

There was no sign of a pentagram, but then, it would be easy enough to draw one in the dirt. But maybe he didn't need one. The old legends about vampires not being able to enter holy ground had some basis in truth—because some evil couldn't enter. The devil spawn was here only because it had been summoned by someone within the confines of the church. For the most part, evil tended to avoid churches.

Are you sure Weylin intends to use the sacrifice site in the Standard Mine to perform his ceremony later tonight?

She nodded. That's where Emmett died. That's were he must be brought back to life. Or so Seline told me. Her gaze rested on his. Why?

Because he's been doing sacrifices here for many years. I was just wondering if he'd risk moving his brother's bod—

He cut the words off as an odd sort of hissing filled the silence. His gut clenched, and he knew without looking what that hissing would be. Grabbing Nikki's arm, he ignored the flame that jumped from her flesh to his, but didn't burn. He yanked her behind him as he slowly turned around.

Yellow-tinged smoke billowed into existence in the corner of the small room, curling through the darkness with unnatural heaviness.

The second devil spawn. He should have known it would be down here somewhere.

He pressed his hand against Nikki's stomach, keeping her behind him but forcing her backwards.

What do we do?

Her fear crowded his mind, becoming his own. Though in his case, it was fear more for her than himself. Get out.

It'll come after us the minute we make any sudden movement, and we don't have anything to protect ourselves here.

Nothing stops a spawn. Not until it hits something to consume.

Water can repel it, and water can also contain it.

Her voice was so matter-of-fact he glanced over his shoulder at her. How do you know?

She grimaced. Um ... I didn't tell you about my encounter with the second spawn in Jackson Hole, did I?

No. Though it does explain the burn scars on your calf. The ones you kept waving away as not being important.

Hey, I obviously lived, so it didn't matter. There was a slight thud as her back hit the shelf, and tin rattled. Is there anything big enough on these shelves to satisfy the hunger of the spawn?

The spawn was finding shape, gathering substance. They didn't have much time left to decide what to do. On the shelves, no. But the pew I threw at the door is lying to our right. That might do the trick.

That thing is going to attack the minute you move.

It certainly was. Right now, it was simply hanging there, a twisting boiling mass of smoky evil waiting for something to happen. I don't suppose there's any water on that shelf?

There are bottles. Could be booze, though.

In a church?

Hey, they do use wine in ceremonies, don't they?

Just check.

The shelf rattled, and the spawn's mass became agitated.

Hurry.

If I go any faster that thing will attack.

Her tension and fear simmered through the link, sharper than before. Glass clinked, and the spawn zipped sideways, as if trying to see where the sound was coming from. In the warm light still leaping from Nikki's hands, its eyes gleamed like soulless diamonds.

Got something. She hesitated, then sniffed and added, It's water. I think.

Okay, the minute I move, you spray that water across the room. Hopefully, it'll deter the spawn long enough for me to grab the pew. He paused. Ready?

No. Her spirit reached out to his, wrapping him in heat and love. Now I'm ready. Let's do it.

Okay. He took a deep breath, then said, Go.

He dove for the pew. The spawn screamed and zipped towards him, its vaporous curtains reaching out, ready to smother and consume.

He hit the ground, sliding through the dirt as he grabbed the pew. The spawn screamed again, teeth gleaming as it tried to wrap vaporous arms around him. Water slewed through the air, glittering brightly in the fire of Nikki's flames. The droplets lashed across the spawn's mass, and it hissed, snapping its skirts away. Michael lifted the pew and threw it toward the coffin. The spawn howled in fury and lurched forward, wrapping its gowns around the pew in midair. There was a retort, a bright flash, then the pew and the spawn were gone.

He blew out a relieved breath and climbed to his feet.

Why did you throw the pew at the coffin rather than the spawn? Nikki twined her fingers through his and squeezed lightly.

Because I figured the spawn might have been programmed to protect the coffin, whereas the first spawn had been set to attack anyone who touched the handle.

Anyone but Dunleavy.

He nodded. By throwing the pew at the coffin, I made the spawn attack the pew rather than us.

But why would Dunleavy have a spawn here, when he's protecting the coffin with magic?

Extra insurance. He squeezed her fingers then released her. We'd better get out of here

She raised an eyebrow. We're not going to try to destroy the coffin?

I doubt that we can. I don't know enough about magic, and I'm sure the magic protecting Weylin's brother is pretty powerful.

He cupped his hands, and she stepped into them. He boosted her up, ensuring she'd climbed safely onto the second step before following her up.

"Where next?” she asked, dusting her hands on her skirt. “The Standard Mine?"

"Yeah. I don't think we have any other choice.” It was either that or sit back and wait for Weylin to come to them, and he'd never been one to do that.

"Neither have I.” A smile teased her lips. “Which is why I'm always so surprised that you're so surprised when I do something rather than wait, as ordered."

"That's because you tend to rush in where angels dare not tread.” He caught her arm and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her quickly. “Or vampires, as the case may be."

He slid his grip down to her hand and again twined his fingers through hers. “Let's go."

They walked into the church's main room. He scanned the outside of the building as they headed for the door, using his vampire vision so that he could detect blood heat. No one waited for them. Yet, tension crawled through his limbs, and he had a peculiar feeling that the men from the bar would soon be making an unwelcome appearance.

"Which is odd, you know,” Nikki commented, as he released her hand to put the wire mesh in place.

"What's odd?” He couldn't do much about the lock, as he'd broken it when he'd snapped it free. But he hooked it onto the latch. From a distance it would look as if the mesh and the lock had been undisturbed.

"These feeling's you're getting. It's almost as if you're somehow siphoning my abilities."

He glanced at her. “Could be. After all, you're siphoning mine."

She raised her eyebrows. “Am not."

"Then how do you explain the fact you've developed brilliant night sight?"

"But—” She hesitated. “I don't see blood rushing through bodies or anything like that."

"No. But from what you said, you're vision is somewhat similar.” He led the way down the steps and into the main street. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet. Even the blustery wind made little sound as it blew around the old buildings.

"So how is something like that possible?"

"I'm told it's because of the bond we share.” He hesitated and decided to finish the sentence through the link, simply because he couldn't shake the sensation that they were being watched. Seline thinks that because I shared my life force out of love rather than need, the bonding between us became far deeper than normal. It made us one.

Her frown deepened. But you have talents I'm not developing. And vice-versa

True. But we haven't been together all that long. It could take years for the assimilation to be fully complete.

And years before we know which talents we can share, and which we can't?

He nodded. Right now, he was wishing that they could share all their talents. He had a feeling it would come in handy when they were finally battling Dunleavy.

They turned the corner and headed up the hill towards the old mine. The wind was colder here, fiercer. Yet through it he could hear a heartbeat. Many heartbeats, in fact.

The men were waiting up ahead.

He scanned the horizon, but he couldn't see anything, which meant they were probably underground. Maybe they were waiting near the pentagram. Maybe Dunleavy expected them to do precisely what they were doing.

He stopped. “I think we should try getting to the Standard Mine pentagram through the shaft near the ranger's house."

Her gaze searched his. “You sense something?"

"Those men are waiting up ahead."

Her gaze jumped to the top of the hill then back to his. “Where?"

"I don't know. I can hear the beat of their hearts, but I can't see them with vampire sight. If we're in that smaller shaft, we're at least coming from a direction they might not be expecting. Plus, there's less room for them to come at us."

She nodded, and he changed direction, heading back down the street and across to the house. The wind had blown off a lot of the dirt covering the mine shaft's hatch, making it hard to tell whether the shaft had been used recently or not.

He flung back the door and peered inside. No sound. Nothing to indicate anyone or anything waited inside the dank blackness. He met Nikki's gaze.

"When I give you the all clear, come down."

She nodded and crossed her arms, her determined stance at odds with the fear lurking in her eyes. That determination was part of the reason he'd fallen in love with her. Part of the reason he would always love her.

She'd become part of the Circle simply because she was determined to share his life—determined to share everything—good and bad.

And for the briefest of moments, he wished he could simply give it all up, just walk away and enjoy an eternity of being with her, loving her. But he couldn't. He'd vowed on Patrick's grave that from there on in, he would hunt and kill the evil that preyed on good. That vow was the reason he'd made into a reality Seline's half-formed desire of a paranormal army to battle evil. The reason why he was still financing the Circle today. He knew that evil would always be around. But if he had any say in the matter, the Circle would always be there to battle it.

And though he now had more to lose than ever, he finally had something more than a vow to fight for. Live for.

He leaned forward, briefly, fiercely, kissed the love of his life, and then dropped into the hole.

Nikki shifted her position so she could see him a little more clearly. Power surged through the link, and after a moment or two, Michael looked up. His eyes were as forbidding as the black shadows crowding the edges of the puddle of afternoon sunlight in which he stood.

"Come down."

She bit her lip, but she eased over the edge and into the tunnel. He helped her down, then twined his fingers through hers and led the way forward. The darkness leapt into focus as her eyes adjusted, but she felt no easier now than she had before. It still felt like there was a ton of earth above her, just waiting for the chance to bury her again.

She shivered and pushed the memories away. That wasn't going to happen here, simply because this time, the madman they were chasing needed her alive.

They reached the cross tunnel again. Water flowed past their feet, trickling down the right-hand tunnel for several feet before sweeping sideways.

"Obviously there's another tunnel down there,” she commented.

He nodded, his expression remote as he listened to the silence.

"You hear anything?"

"Yes.” He glanced at her. “The heartbeats are stronger. They're moving towards us."

"Dunleavy doesn't want us to destroy that pentagram."

"Maybe.” He lightly squeezed her fingers. “I'll try to find a way around them."

While she hoped that was possible, she suspected they'd have no choice but to confront the oncoming mini-army. Dunleavy had planned his revenge to the nth degree, and it was doubtful they'd be able to slip past his net this late in the game.

Which meant there was no getting around the fact that the final confrontation would occur during the ceremony tonight.

Goose bumps trembled across her skin. She could only hope that Seline had been right in her assumption that the ceremony couldn't be completed simply because she wasn't Seline. Because if she and Michael failed, that was the only thing stopping Emmett's evil from being unleashed on the world yet again.

We won't fail, Michael commented, his mind voice calm, almost soothing. I have every intention of getting you to that alter and officially making you mine.

And here I was thinking you'd forgotten the little detail of our wedding.

Amusement bubbled through the link, wrapping warmth around her heart. Thinking or wishing? Maybe you've had second thoughts about marrying such an old man.

As long as that old man keeps loving me as well as he did today, I'll have no complaints.

Then I shall endeavor to—

His words cut off suddenly, and he stopped. She followed suit, listening to silence, hearing nothing but the steady gurgle of water. The air was thick and cold and moved easily past her cheek, indicating there was an outside entrance somewhere up ahead.

What? she asked eventually.

The heartbeats have ceased.

Her stomach began to churn. Oh God ... He's killed them?

I don't know. I certainly can't smell blood, and if he's killed them, I would.

Could they have moved back up top? The air is moving, and it wasn't before.

Maybe. He tugged her forward again. I've a feeling we'd better get to that pentagram while we can. Dunleavy is weaving his net around us.

It's been around us the whole time.

Yes, but now it grows tighter.

They hurried through the darkness. Though Michael made little noise, her steps echoed, the sound slapping off the wet walls loudly enough to make her wince. One thing the Circle hadn't taught her was how to run without noise. Maybe she'd suggest it when—if—they got out of here.

They reached another junction. He barely hesitated before pulling her right. She had no idea where they were in relation to the mine or the town, having lost all sense of direction about twenty steps in.

They'd barely gone three steps when noise scuffed across the silence. She glanced over her shoulder. Michael.

I know.

But—

I know. His mind voice was terse. They've been there for a few minutes now.

So why didn't you mention it?

Didn't want to worry you.

I thought you were going to stop doing that?

I said I'd try. I didn't say I'd stop completely.

Now, that was definitely the vampire she knew and loved. So when were you going to tell me we were being tailed? A heartbeat before they attacked?

Give me a little more credit than that.

Okay. Two heartbeats, then

Amusement shimmered down the link. That's more like it.

She shook her head. So, is there anything else I should know?

Have I mentioned there's something ahead?

No. Her thoughts were more acerbic than annoyed. What?

There's one heartbeat. I think it's the last shifter.

Can we go around him?

I'm trying, but he's shadowing us. Remember, they know these tunnels. I'm only following instinct.

He tugged her right again. The walls began to close in, and the rough-hewn support planking gave way to natural rock. The air became danker, thick with the scent of age and disuse. Ghostly tendrils of slime appeared, sprouting from the ceiling like a living thing and slapping wetly across her face. It felt like the fingers of the dead grasping for her.

A chill ran across her skin, and she edged a little closer to Michael's back. This tunnel was way too similar to the one that had almost claimed her life.

Stone rattled behind them, the noise echoing harshly. The men were closer than before, and fear scooted through her. While she really did believe ten men weren't much of a match for her and Michael, the situation they were in now was far from normal, and she was without the benefit of her basic abilities. Sure, she had her fire, but she didn't particularly want to hurt any of those who followed them, and that would hamper her actions and perhaps make it more difficult to protect herself.

The tunnel twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the darkness. The walls closed in, brushing her shoulders, tearing at her shirt. She bit her lip and hoped like hell they weren't being herded into a dead-end.

After a few minutes, the walls began to ease back. She felt no sense of relief. Though she could hear little beyond the harsh note of her own breathing, she couldn't shake the sensation that the men were close enough to almost touch.

The link sprang to life, wrapping around her fear, gently easing it away. They're not yet within reach.

How far, then?

A few minutes.

And the shifter?

Paralleling us.

What about the pentagram? How far away are we from that? Though she asked the question, she very much doubted whether they'd get that far. This all reeked of a well-laid plan.

If my sense of direction isn't leading us astray, we shouldn't be that far from it.

Good.

The tendrils of slime began to recede as warmth touched the air. Not that it was actually that much warmer. She shivered again, this time more from the cold than fear.

The tunnel began to open up, eventually leading into another cavern. Her footsteps seemed to echo forever, lending the darkness a feeling of enormity. Michael paused, and the sensation of wrongness hit her so strongly it felt like a punch to the gut.

There's something here, she gasped.

Magic. His mind voice was grim. We'll have to watch where we step.

It's on the floor?

To our right. I'm not sure what it is, beyond the fact that its source is evil. He squeezed her hand gently. This ability I'm siphoning is far too new for me to properly assimilate. You can't sense anything more?

Nothing beyond evil. But Dunleavy's spells have nulled my psi skills

Then, by rights, they should have stopped my using them as well.

Not if he didn't know we could share. And considering they were only just discovering what was possible, it was hardly likely that Dunleavy could know. Even if he had read Michael's mind when he'd had him under full control, it wouldn't have mattered. Dunleavy thought she was Seline, not Nikki.

He tugged her forward again. The floor around them was littered with rocks and deeper, darker spaces that suggested holes.

Old mines shafts, Michael said. Looks like the miners decided to dig for deeper treasures here.

Right through the rock?

Rock wouldn't have stopped them if they were following a vein of gold.

It would have stopped her. But then, she'd never have been underground hunting gold in the first place. Riches of any kind had never called to her—except when it came to the richness of emotion. Something she'd been afraid to reach towards for more years than she'd cared to remember.

They were barely halfway across the cavern when he stopped. She was just about to ask what the problem was when she saw it. Or rather, him.

The shifter that had been shadowing them stepped from the tunnel on the far side. In his hand was a wooden stake.

Fear leapt into her throat, and for a moment she couldn't even breathe. Then she raised her hand and called to the fire. It leapt to life, spewing from her fingers in a flaming ball that shot light across the cavern as it arced toward the shifter. He stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear that she could almost taste. But her flames were not meant for him. They hit the stake and wrapped around it quickly. With a squawk that was barely human, the shifter dropped it. It was little more than ash by the time it hit the ground.

She tugged Michael's hand. We need to go.

It's too late for that.

A scrape of sound made her spin, and she realized what he'd meant. The ten men who'd been following them now crowded into the old tunnel opening. They were trapped, with no option but to fight.

Michael spun and kissed her briefly. Take care of the shifter. I'll take the men.

He was gone before she could argue, so she ran at the shifter. He smirked, and in that moment, she recognized him. He was the driver of the van.

His form shimmered, reformed, becoming that of a wolf that snarled and leapt for her. She flicked the knife into her palm and slashed at him as she dodged his leap. The blade scoured his side, and blue fire flickered. The wolf yelped as he hit the ground, then he twisted, leaping for her again.

She sidestepped, slashing again with the knife. The sharp point tore past his coat and into flesh, deeper than before. He howled and twisted in midair, his sharp teeth slashing. His canines tore across the back of her hand, skidding up her arm. She cursed and backed away. His form shimmered as he hit the ground, becoming human once again.

"For this,” he said, pointing to his bloody side, his voice gruff with anger and pain, “you die."

"I don't think Dunleavy will approve of that plan.” And what the hell was it with shifters thinking she'd be easy meat?

"I don't give a fuck what Dunleavy wants. No bitch is going to wound me and live to tell about it."

The words were barely out of his mouth when he rushed for her. She dove out of his way, hitting the stone with a grunt and rolling back to her feet.

Air stirred. Too late she saw the shifter's leg sweeping toward her. The force of the blow against the back of her legs sent her flying. Her butt hit the ground with enough force to jar her spine, and her breath left in a hiss of air, leaving her wheezing.

Air stirred again, warning her. She rolled to one side, barely avoiding the foot aimed at her head. She twisted around, lashing out with her legs and striking his legs, sweeping them out from beneath him in much the same manner as he had hers. She scrambled upright as he crashed to the ground, but the shifting haze crawled across his body again, and in wolf form, he launched at her.

She dodged and pivoted, smashing her booted heel into his side and kicking him into the rock walls. He hit with enough force to make him grunt. She gave him no time to recover, throwing the knife as hard and as fast as she could. This time, she didn't miss.

The shifter was dead before his body hit the floor.

One less murderous kidnapper for the world to deal with, she thought, retrieving her knife and ruthlessly battering away the remorse that ran through her.

She spun and ran to help Michael. There were only five of the original ten left, but they were forcing him backwards, away from the tunnel and towards the deeper darkness that stank of evil. And then she saw how five men were managing to do this. Three of them were armed with stakes.

"Hey you,” she yelled, launching herself at the nearest man just as he turned.

She hit him feet first in the gut and sent him flying backwards. He hit the wall with a crack loud enough to suggest broken bones and slid down to the ground. She scrambled upright, but he didn't move. Hoping she hadn't hurt him too badly, she spun and tackled the next nearest man.

This one was waiting, and his blow cracked across her face, sending her sprawling backwards. She half yelped in pain, and through the blur of tears, she saw him coming at her. She dropped and hooked his feet, making him stumble. She jumped upright, and before he could catch his balance, pushed him in the back. He hit the ground, sprawling on his stomach and sliding along the slick rock for several feet. She slipped her broken knife into her palm, flipped it so she was holding the blade, then stepped close to his sprawled form and hit him with the hilt as hard as she could. He didn't move. She checked his pulse, then spun and ran back to help Michael with the remaining three men.

There was blood on Michael's arms, and a cut on his cheek. They'd pushed him so far back that the magic they'd both sensed now pulsed around his body, spinning purple shards of light across the darkness. Fear for him rose, but she pushed it away and reached for the fire again. She aimed it at the stake the man closest to her was holding, then launched herself after her flaming arrow, intending to knock him down and away from Michael.

Only he twisted at the wrong moment, and she pushed him sideways rather than away. He cannoned into the other two men, pushing them forward—straight into Michael, thrusting him backwards into the pulsing curtain.

"No,” she yelled, lunging forward.

The light closed around her hand, sucking her forward, her feet skidding across the stone even though she fought the pull.

Then evil leapt into focus and someone grabbed her, yanking her backwards. She spun, knife raised. Saw Kinnard's mocking expression and a bright flash of light.

Then there was nothing.

Nothing but darkness.