The vampire launched forward, fist swinging and connecting with Devyn's eye before she could protest.
Bride snarled low in her throat. "Do that again, and I will personally slit your throat while you sleep. I'm the only one allowed to abuse him."
The vampire cracked his neck left, right, then settled back in his spot. "My apologies, sweet bride." Time restarted. Devyn rubbed his eye, glaring suspiciously at McKell.
"The king allowed you to live the last time you were here because he trusted you to keep our secrets," McKell said as if nothing had happened. "What will he say when he learns of this treachery?"
Bride shifted, suddenly nervous again. "You risk giving away your location every time you enter the surface world. How is that any different? Besides, you said the world already knows vampires exists."
"No, the underworld knows of our existence. Criminals. Slavers. But they don't know how to get to us. If word spreads, human fanatics will arrive on our doorstep. War will erupt. And if that happens, we will know who to blame." A muscle ticked in his jaw, and he whipped around. "Enough of this.
Come. There is a drop. You can fly, I presume?"
Fly? "No, I can't." No, not true, she thought next, but didn't rescind her claim. She could fly, but only as mist. Misting wasn't something she would do here. She would have to strip, then piece herself back together. She would be too exhausted to defend Devyn from attack.
McKell twisted to face her again, searching her features. "You do not tease? You cannot fly?”
“No." Could all other vampires? Fabulous. Already she was lacking.
Confusion flittered over the warrior's face. "Very well. I will catch you." With that, he stepped into a gaping hole and disappeared from view.
"We'll be fine," Devyn said. He kissed her temple. "I've never failed at anything and won't start now."
"But how will you—"
"I'm probably the most powerful, gifted man in the universe. Of course I can do this.”
“Sorry if I'm not convinced. I need your game plan."
"Energy, love. Energy. Just as I can command other bodies to obey me, I can command the air to slow us."
She nodded, drew in a breath, and stepped to the hole. She looked down. So much darkness, so thick ... even with her superior eyesight, she couldn't see a bottom. Couldn't hear a sound.
"I'll meet you down there, and I'll be the one to catch you," Devyn said, and then he disappeared.
I can do this. I can. Closing her eyes, she stepped forward. Gasped. The ground vanished, and she was falling fast, falling down. Her arms floundered for an anchor as her heart raced in her chest, beating against her ribs. Up sprang the thorns and the fire, and her stomach twisted into a thousand tiny knots. She fought past her rising panic. Fly, damn you, fly.
A sense of numbness suddenly blanketed her feet and spread up, into her legs, her hips, her arms. With the numbness came a sensation of heaviness, and she thought to drop faster, harder, like a stone in water, but instead she slowed. Her eyelids popped open, and she gazed around her in confusion. It wasn't her body that was heavier, she realized, it was that the air around her had thickened.
She wanted to laugh. I'm flying. I'm truly flying. And Devyn was responsible, the sweetie. A light appeared at her feet, and she saw that he was already on the ground, waiting for her. He could see her without the glow stick, so his hands were empty as he opened his arms; she floated herself straight into them.
"Thank you," she said with a grin. "I didn't know something like that was possible."
"Actually, you did. You've been bedded by me, so you've flown to the heavens on several occasions."
The other vampires landed behind her, in the air one moment and standing the next.
"This way." While McKell's tone was stiff, he didn't protest Devyn's hold on her. Maybe he was learning. He stalked away, forcing them to follow or be left behind.
Devyn had to push her forward to spur her into motion. This new section of the cave was spacious, with walls so high she didn't have to duck and didn't feel cramped. There were shops built into the sides, with doorways and windows and signs, everything human shops possessed. No one was about, however; the makeshift streets were empty.
"Where is everyone?" she asked.
"Sleeping," McKell answered.
How very human of them. "How do they know day versus night?"
He rounded a corner, fingers brushing the pole of a muted streetlamp. "We have a lighting system of our own, one that mirrors the surface."
They trekked down a long walkway, took several more turns, bypassed what was obviously the palace, with its intimidating size, consuming three entire walls, squished through thin slices of rock, and finally came to an iron fence decorated with interwoven circles and squares.
McKell unlocked it with a single wave of his hand and trudged forward. Again, she and Devyn followed. The guards, however, did not. They posted themselves in front of the gate. Bride soon found herself walking straight into another cave, this one separated by thin strings of beads. Or rather, bone? she wondered. The pieces were small and the same creamy white as bone, a marrow like substance in the centers.
Inside were animal-skin rugs, a lounge and couch made from stone and draped in thick, dark fur, and a long, thin table that stretched in the center of the room. The table was the size of a twin bed and sat low to the ground. Is that where McKell slept?
"Sit, sit. Let's fortify ourselves before we begin. Are you thirsty?" he asked. Before she could answer, the warrior clapped his hands. A human girl raced through a far entryway, the beads blocking it clanging together behind her. The scent of food—fruits and nuts, no meats or spices, thank God—came with her. "Feed my guest," he instructed.
The girl was dressed in ... peach-colored leather? No, Bride realized upon closer inspection. Flesh. She gagged, barely managed to cover the motion with a hand to her mouth. The girl wore human flesh that had been cured into leather, and the material wrapped around her br**sts and hips.
Dear God. They must recycle their food when they finished with it.
This one had been tattooed around her neck, wrists, and ankles. Like shackles. The design was intricate, distinctive, with the same swirls and points that Bride had seen on the iron fence.
The human kept her head bowed, her eyes lowered, as she lay upon the table and stretched out her arm in offering to Bride.
"No, thank you," Bride said gently. Revulsion swam through her as she eased onto the floor beside the table, her legs suddenly too weak to hold her.