This was not any other night, however, and while she might not be Mensa material, she wasn't entirely stupid. She wasn't about to ignore her instincts, which were making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"I think it's the same thing that attacked us at Viper's."
He gave a low growl deep in his throat. A sound that did nothing to help with the prickles.
"Abominations," he hissed. "Where?"
"In front of us," she promptly retorted, and then less certainly she swiveled about. "And I think behind us."
Dante took a quick glance around before grasping her hand and tugging her deeper into the trees.
"This way."
Abby had no intention of arguing. Her stomach was already clenched with an icy dread, and her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. At the moment she was quite willing to run all the way back to Chicago if necessary.
Keeping low to avoid the branches that blocked their paths, they scurried through the dark. Dante with his usual elegant silence and Abby crashing behind him like a bull elephant with a tranquilizer stuck in its butt.
Her prickles continued despite their swift flight, at times becoming more pronounced and then oddly fading. She didn't need her instincts, however, to tell her they were being chased. The living dead were no longer making a secret of their presence, and they stumbled after them making even more racket than she did.
Panting and grimly ignoring the stitch that was ripping through her side, Abby briefly wondered how the corpses could move with such speed. For God's sake, they were dead, weren't they? Most of them no doubt killed from an overdose of meat, cigarettes, and beer.
They should be shuffling along like proper zombies, not blazing through the woods as if they were the freaking Kenyan track team.
Struggling to keep up with Dante's numbing pace, Abby was unprepared for him to come to a sudden halt. Slamming into his back, she was only kept upright by the arm he was quick enough to wrap about her waist.
"Damn," she grunted, sucking in deep gasps of air. "Why did you stop?"
The silver eyes glittered in the darkness, Ms features set in hard lines.
"I don't like this."
Abby shivered, glancing over her shoulder at the unmistakable sound of an advancing horde.
"I don't particularly care for it either, but it's a hell of a lot better than those things catching us."
That's the point," he rasped.
"What?"
"They could have surrounded us, cut off any escape. Why haven't they?"
Abby frowned, barely able to keep herself still when every instinct screamed at her to continue her willy-nilly bolt for safety.
"Because they're freaking brain dead."
Dante appeared stunningly unimpressed with her logic. "They may be dead, but they're being controlled by someone."
"And your point?"
There was a pause as his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "We're being herded."
"Herded?" It took a moment for Abby to collect a mental image. "You mean like sheep?"
"Exactly like sheep."
"But… why?"
Astonishingly the beautiful features managed to harden even further. "I don't think we want to find out."
Abby's heart sank from her throat to her lower stomach. If Dante was worried, then it had to be bad. Really, really bad.
"Oh God, what do we do?" she muttered.
"I suppose we either stand and fight or try to make a run for it."
Abby didn't even have to think about it.
"I'm voting on the run-for-it option."
"Let's do it, then." Tightening his arm about her waist, Dante pulled her upward, planting a too-brief kiss on her lips before tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Hold on tight, lover."
Abby gave a startled squeak as he took off with a fluid speed that made the trees a mere blur in passing. It was certainly faster than having her blundering behind, slowing both of them to her human pace, but she discovered that the swaying was making her distinctly queasy.
Closing her eyes, she battled back the nausea and concentrated on anything but the rolling ground beneath her.
The rent was due on Friday. She didn't have a job. At least not one that paid. Unless of course there was something offered for saving the world from some creepy Prince. Her current lover was a vampire who was also unemployed. And her birthday was coming up in less than a month.
Those sorts of thoughts should easily have distracted her. Unfortunately, her stomach continued to heave and rebel.
She wrenched open her eyes, hoping that would help.
Big mistake.
A scream was wrenched from her throat as she saw the rotting corpses beginning to close in.
With a large bound, Dante leaped over a fallen tree and with a motion that had her teeth crashing together, he had her back on her feet and shoved behind him.
"Dead end," he announced, his voice bleak, his hands clenched to strike.
Abby struggled to swallow. Slinking through the trees were a dozen, perhaps more, of the zombies. She could only thank God that it was too dark to see more than vague outlines. It was horrible enough to be attacked by the living dead without knowing firsthand how they met their end.
"Looks like we'll have to go the stand-and-fight route," she croaked.
"Abby." Dante turned to regard her with an anguished regret.
She could actually feel his fury and the biting guilt that raged through him. He held himself responsible, she knew. In his mind, he had failed her.
Lifting her hand, she gently laid it against his cheek.
"Dante," she whispered.
There was the sound of a cracking branch behind her. Instinctively she whirled about. And just as instinctively she screamed as a large stick came whizzing through the dark directly at her head.
Chapter 12
Dante knew he was going to die in the woods.
Vampire or not, he was no superhero. Hell, not even a superhero could battle off a dozen zombies and the dark wizard he could feel hiding among the trees.
But while he might not be capable of taking them all out, he could hope that he would destroy enough that Abby could use her powers to battle her way to safety.
It was a risky gamble.
It was also the only one they possessed.
He had managed to tear his way through the first wave of attackers and was desperately plowing a path toward the edge of the woods when the wizard had abruptly appeared before him. His hand lifted, and before Dante could dodge, he had struck him with a spell that sent him reeling into blackness.
He awoke to discover himself chained to a cold, barren stone floor.