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Cordell may not make that possible. Her sarcasm bit through the link but was swallowed swiftly by the warmth of his smile.
I guess not. Spawn are difficult to kill. They are creations of magic and fire, and as such are immune to both.
Well, considering neither of us have fire or magic at our disposal, it doesn't really matter, does it?
No. Water repels them. Silver can kill them. And we don't have those, either. Which is why I suggested we try to stay out of their way.
Let's just hope Cordell lets us.
Yes.
They continued on through the darkness. The air became almost dead, as if this section of the caverns wasn't used much. In the distance she could hear the gentle splash of water, a peaceful sound that somehow increased her edginess.
How much farther?
Not far.
The air stirred, whisking heat across her skin. She jumped sideways and bit down on her yelp. Fire leapt across her fingertips, lightning bright in the darkness.
Tension flowed through the link. Nikki, what's wrong?
Something touched me.
She stared into the darkness, seeing nothing, feeling nothing. Yet something had trailed across her skin—her cheek still burned with the heat of its touch.
I don't see anything.
Neither did she. But that didn't mean there wasn't something there. He tugged her forward again. She licked dry lips, gaze sweeping the darkness.
In the distance, light flared and became an incandescent jewel that gleamed brightly in the darkness. Michael, a flame imp is here with us. Did it intend to help or hinder them? Had the flame imp meant to burn her, or was it merely catching her attention?
Where?
Ahead. Can't you see the pearl of light?
His frown slid down the link. No, I can't .
Ginger had warned her this would happen. She'd said that even Cordell couldn't see them—he could only feel their power. It's about twenty feet in front of us . Its light glowed a gentle gold across the cavern walls, whisking brightness from wall to wall, gleaming brightly off the thin strand of wire stretched taut across the path. She stopped and yanked Michael backwards. Trip wire . She pulled her flashlight from her pocket and shined the beam on the wire.
How in the hell did you see that? I couldn't, and I was using my vampire vision. He squatted, intently studying the wire, then the cracked cavern walls on either side. The flame imp showed me.
So they're on our side?
She glanced at the pearl. It was hovering near a slight curve in the tunnel, its shade a green-tinged blue—colors that hinted at sadness. But why were the flame imps sad? Had another of their number died?
Cordell's killing them. We're their only hope.
He nodded absently, then reached over the wire and gently pressed his fingers against the ground on the other side. Something clicked. For a second, nothing happened, then there was a sigh of air and stakes stabbed in from either side of the wall. Michael fell backwards, barely avoiding having his arm skewered.
"Cordell's playing with us.” He rose and dusted off his jeans. Though there was a touch of amusement in his voice, anger stirred through the link. “Those stakes were never meant to kill us." They certainly looked deadly enough. She frowned at him. “What makes you think that?" "Two things.” He began snapping the stakes, creating a hole for them to walk through. “First off, the wire is attached to nothing more than rock. It was meant as a warning not a trigger. Second, the delay between pressing the real trigger and the stakes stabbing in was enough that we would have been safely past."
She rubbed her eyes. “But that doesn't make sense. Why would he do something like that? Why play games?"
"I don't know.” He captured her hand again, his fingers so warm compared to hers. “Let's continue." They stepped past the broken stakes and the pressure plate and continued down the tunnel. The flame imp kept its distance, hovering a good twenty feet away. Muted light fanned across the walls, enough to see but not clearly. She kept the flashlight's beam trained on the ground, just in case Cordell had more trip wires waiting.
The sound of water splashing became clearer. It seemed quite strong—a stream more than just water dripping off damp rocks. The cold was increasing, reaching icy fingers through her skin to chill her bones. She shivered, wishing she'd worn something warmer than a cotton sweater. They rounded the curve in the tunnel. Ahead was a heavily padlocked wooden door. The flame imp hovered above it, but its color was still dark, and it was difficult to see. Rodeman? She asked.
Behind the door. He stopped, eyeing it with a frown. This is too easy. Maybe Cordell is simply overconfident. Even as she spoke the words, she knew they weren't true. Cordell wasn't a fool. Angry and somewhat demented, yes, but no fool. There would be traps waiting here somewhere.
