“It’s not me,” she cried, pulling out of his arms. “This is all your fault. You had to come to Lebanon.”
Distance helped, even if it was only eighteen inches or so. Her heart labored in her chest and she struggled to breathe. That weird heaviness was back. “Are you in need of blood? We have a battle coming. I’ve been feeling it since I woke up, like a weight inside me.”
“Soon enough.” He searched her face. “But I don’t need blood, not yet. But you’ll donate again?”
Here was a hard truth, just how much she wanted to open a vein for him. “As long as we’re doing this together, absolutely. You don’t have to think twice about it. I know how hard it is for all the mastyrs, the toll the blood-starvation takes on each of you.”
“It does. You’ve helped more than any other woman so far, I want you to know that. The cramping isn’t nearly so bad.” His half-smile appeared. “You’ve got rich blood.”
“I’m glad. I’m glad I could do at least that because I don’t know how much good I’ll be in the coming days.”
He caught her chin with his fingers and forced her to meet his gaze. “Hey, without you I couldn’t have gotten the three of us here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“But I’m not a fighter, Quinlan.”
“Yet we wouldn’t have survived without you. I’m convinced of that. Battle isn’t everything.”
“You’re right. I know you are.” She glanced at the table. “So what place was Henry talking about?”
He drew close, and with one hand on her waist, he leaned forward and tapped the spot on the map both men had been studying earlier. “It looks like a smudge, but it’s a shallow dip in the land and apparently, it’s the gateway to Gem Meadow and the rest of the passage to Ferrenden Peace.”
She glanced at him. “You’re serious.”
“It’s the only way.”
“Are you saying we can’t just fly over the mountains?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Ask Lorelei.”
Batya turned in the direction of the door and sure enough, Lorelei stood there, her expression solemn, concerned.
Batya asked, “Is this true?”
“I’m afraid it is.” She joined them near the table. “There aren’t that many places to hide in any of the realms and Mastyr Quinlan’s stronghold is well known. Margetta will eventually make her way here and if we took off over the mountains, she’d catch us. The only way is to follow the journey that you already laid out for us in your paintings. My guess is that a certain level of enthrallment still covers most of this region and will make Margetta’s search for us difficult. Not impossible, but a challenge even for her.”
Batya tapped the map near the smudge. “There’s a strong vibration here.” She glanced up at Quinlan. “Do you know what this is?”
At that, Lorelei peered close. “I think it’s a sinkhole leading to an underground river.”
Quinlan leaned on the table with both hands, staring at the smudge. “That would make sense on every possible front. Then this is where we start. Right here.”
“So what do we do?” Batya opened her hands wide. “Do we just go over there and stomp around for a few minutes? Maybe wait till the whole thing collapses?”
“Maybe.”
Quinlan had a look in his eye, a dangerous spark that appealed to something inside Batya she’d never really known existed. He liked the idea that the unknown waited for them, that whatever lay outside his fortress carried a deadly edge.
She looked away from him, her gaze settling on nothing in particular. But inwardly, she wondered about herself. Who was this person who had become Lorelei’s champion and who had slept with a Mastyr Vampire? She almost didn’t recognize herself.
And yet, she did. Some part of her, lost perhaps in her independent pursuit outside of Grochaire Realm, had started coming alive maybe from the first time Quinlan had appeared outside her Lebanon studio-bedroom and touched her with his realm vibration.
Shifting her gaze back to Quinlan, she said, “Let’s do this thing.”
He lifted upright from the table and turned to face her, searching her eyes. He did that a lot, something he did with everyone, a sort of test, taking a person’s measure. “All right, then.” He glanced at Lorelei then back to Batya. “I want you both to pack some winter-gear. I have a storeroom full of every size of boots and coats. Nothing too serious since it’s only October. We won’t have any minus-degree weather and supposedly the meadow will be in the comfortable sixties. But we’ll be camping.”
“Camping?” Batya and Lorelei spoke at the same time.
With her nose wrinkled, Batya turned to Lorelei and found that a similar expression of distaste curled Lorelei’s lips.
“Now who would have thought,” Quinlan interjected, “that camping would be worse than falling down a sinkhole.”
Batya just looked at him.
“It won’t be as bad as you think. If we make enough noise, the wolves will stay at least fifteen feet away from the teepees.”
“Teepees?” Again, Lorelei’s voice joined Batya’s.
“Not exactly teepees. More like open air tents.” Quinlan shook his head, but he laughed. “Just be ready in twenty minutes.”
But Henry appeared in the doorway, his active troll feet bouncing back-and-forth. “Mastyr, we’ve got incoming ETA twelve minutes out of the southwest. I think Margetta found us.”
“Shit.” Quinlan took Batya’s elbow and propelled her toward the door. “Make that five minutes to get your gear together. Now run.”
Batya took off with Lorelei on her heels as Quinlan shouted orders for the brigade and the support units to get to the courtyard on the double.
She’d never moved so fast as she gathered up a pair of boots, labeled by size, thank the Goddess, and a coat with a hood. Lorelei parted from her, heading toward her guest suite. Batya raced to her bedroom and grabbed her packed satchel. Everything she needed was in there.
With that, she glanced at the huge, fur-laden bed, the fireplace, the arched opening to the oversized tub. Would she ever be back here?
* * * * * * * * *
Quinlan held both women in his arms as he levitated straight up into the air to the top the fir trees, then flew north and slightly west as fast as he could. The depression in the earth, surrounded by meadow and more trees wasn’t far, ten miles, no more. He’d reach the location in less than a minute.