“He’s gone.”
“And you’re not hurt?”
She pulled back, and before Caine could guess what she intended to do, she lifted her shirt to study the flat plane of her stomach.
“I don’t think so.”
Caine choked back a groan at his instant, painful reaction to the sight of her smooth alabaster skin and the lower curve of her bare br**sts. God, if he could just get that slender body beneath him…
His erotic fantasy was brought to a rude end as his gaze caught sight of the small tattoo that marred the skin just beneath her belly button.
He leaned forward, studying the crimson hieroglyphic that flickered with the same unsettling shimmer as the designs on the wall.
“What’s this?” he demanded, cautiously brushing a finger over the tattoo. His muscles clenched in alarm at the unpleasant chill that clung to the mark.
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
Her grimace confirmed his suspicion. “The mark of the demon lord.”
“Bastard. What does it do?”
She turned her head, as if attempting to hide her expression.
“He used it to keep me bound to these caves.”
There was something more.
“And?”
“It allows me to…”
He captured her chin between his thumb and finger and turned her back to meet his searching gaze.
“You can tell me.”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try.”
“I can touch the other side.”
“The other side?”
“Heaven, hell, another dimension…” She shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it.”
Unease snaked down Caine’s spine, and with an abrupt movement, he was on his feet.
Dammit. He had to get them out of there.
He didn’t know who Cassandra was connected to, but he did know it couldn’t have her.
She belonged to him.
Period.
“Are you stuck down here?”
“No, that spell has been broken.”
“So you can leave the caves?”
She rose gracefully to her feet, her gaze deliberately shifting to the narrow opening of the cave.
“If we can find a way to dig ourselves out.”
“Dig?” He froze, praying she wasn’t implying what he thought she was implying. “What do you mean?”
“The tunnels have all collapsed.”
Well, hell. Of course they had collapsed.
Maybe he had died, after all. He’d always known that he was destined for hell, and what could be worse than an eternity in this dark, barren cave?
Of course, it wouldn’t be true torture so long as Cassandra was near, a traitorous voice whispered in the back of his mind.
“All of them?” he rasped.
A white cloud floated eerily across her eyes, then a tranquil smile curved her lips.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get out.” There was a short pause. “In time.”
Caine clenched his hands, his temper flaring. Had she been stuck so long in the cave she didn’t understand the danger they were in?
“I don’t have time,” he snapped. “Unlike you, I’m not immortal.”
She moved toward him, laying her hands lightly on his chest.
“Are you certain?”
He grasped her hands, his brows snapping together. “Enough with your cryptic…”
“Don’t you feel it?” she interrupted, studying him with an intensity that made him pause.
Don’t you feel it…
A bolt of terror shot through his heart.
He did.
Waking up, he’d been too weak and disoriented to pay attention to the strange sensations that pounded through his blood. Or the powerful vitality that was swiftly repairing his battered body.
Hell, even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t have assumed he’d been magically transformed into a pureblood.
It was freaking nuts.
But now, he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his scent and the growing power that was altering him with every beat of his heart.
He stumbled backwards, glaring at the woman who stood there with her Zen smile and aura of pure innocence.
“Is this a trick?” he demanded.
She tilted her head to one side, her hair spilling over her shoulder in a curtain of pale silver.
“How could it be a trick?”
Caine clenched his teeth, ready to suspect the entire world was out to scam him.
Paranoid? Nah.
“Briggs deceived me for the past thirty years,” he bit out. “I’m not going to be a putz again.”
“Deceived you?”
“He made me believe in a vision…”
“That came true,” she softly interrupted.
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s impossible.”
“I’ve told you…”
“I don’t care what the hell you told me,” he retorted, his nerves wound so tight he felt as if he might shatter. “A cur doesn’t die and come back from the dead as a pureblood.” His breath hissed through his teeth as he was struck by a hideous thought. “Oh, my God, I haven’t turned into a zombie like Briggs, have I?”
She studied him intently, sniffing the air as if testing for the stench of zombie.
“No, you’re very much alive.”
“Then how?”
“It has to have something to do with your battle with the demon lord.” Her brows puckered as she considered the various possibilities. “He’s been draining the ancient magic of the Weres for centuries. A portion of his essence must have been left in you.”
Caine shook his head.
Not in disagreement—hell, it was as good a theory as any—but in sheer bafflement.
Good God, was it possible?
Had he somehow been transformed into a pureblood?
And if he had…then why?
Muttering a savage curse, Caine paced the narrow floor, trying to wrap his brain around the staggering implications of his transformation.
He might have what he always desired, but it wasn’t the glorious revolution that he had dreamed it would be.
Actually, he felt more alone and uncertain than he had since giving up his human life to become a cur.
“Damn.” He shoved a hand through his hair, longing to fill his lungs with fresh air. A long run beneath the moonlight was just what he needed to clear the fog from his brain. “This was not how it was supposed to be. I thought the vision meant I was destined to be the savior of the curs.”
Her smile dimmed, a haunting pain darkening her eyes. “Visions are rarely what you believe them to be. They’re deceptive and dangerous.”