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"Yes, but when I attacked him, he used magic to escape." She stared at him for a moment, and then her eyes widened as what he was implying hit her.
"Yes,” he confirmed softly. “I think the man we know as Kinnard is actually Dunleavy himself."
Chapter Twelve
Kinnard and Dunleavy one and the same? As much as Nikki didn't want to believe it, it did make sense. It would explain why Dunleavy was nowhere to be seen, and why Kinnard had been able to cross the pentagrams unaffected. It had been his magic rather than that of his so-called master's.
"I should have cindered the little maggot when I had hold of him earlier,” she muttered. Instead, all she'd succeeded in doing was warning him that she had some abilities that weren't under the control of his magic. No doubt he'd now try to counter that.
She rubbed her arms. Michael caught her hand and pulled her back into his embrace. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his chest, listening to the slow but steady beat of his heart. She wished her own would follow suit. In many ways, this was her first official assignment for the Circle—something she'd been wanting for months now. And yet here she was, so damn scared it felt like her heart was going to gallop out of her chest.
"That's natural,” Michael said softly, “if only because it is your first mission." She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. That's not the reason I'm scared. No?
No. I'm afraid of losing you. Which was ironic considering she'd joined the Circle to ensure she didn't lose him.
He kissed her forehead. That won't ever happen.
But it already had. Just for a few days, she'd had no idea where he was or what was happening to him. She didn't want to ever repeat that feeling—yet she knew it would undoubtedly happen, because that was the nature of their work. As he'd tried to warn her before she'd joined the Circle. You can't guarantee that, she countered. No one can. No. But I guarantee nothing short of death will ever keep me from your side. She smiled and rested her cheek against his chest again. So the dead man vows. The dead man doesn't make many vows, and he keeps the few he does make. Have I ever mentioned how much I love you?
His smile swam through the link, filling her mind with sunshine. Not in recent history, no. Then consider it mentioned.
I don't suppose you'd consider mentioning your name?
Amusement bubbled through her. I would, but simply mentioning it brings on an attack from the runes on your back. I think you have to remember in your own time. Besides, it wasn't as if he'd totally forgotten her. The strength of the emotions tumbling down the link were evidence enough of that. Speaking of runes, it might be wise to try washing them away again. I have a suspicion Dunleavy might make an attempt at getting to you through me—through the runes. She pulled back again. “Now?"
"The sooner the better. He might be working on a spell as we speak." She nodded and led the way to the bathroom. While she filled the basin with hot water, he stripped off his shirt. When the basin was full, she grabbed the soap and water, and began working away at the black marks all over his back.
"What are we going to do about Dunleavy?"
"We hunt him down and destroy him. At least now we know exactly what we're hunting." Energy was beginning to touch the air again, and his back muscles twitched and jumped. Welts were flickering into existence across his skin, then just as quickly disappearing, as if the power touching the air lashed his skin. He didn't say anything, but she attacked the runes with greater vigor. How much time she had left very much depended on his resistance to the runes’ force.
"What about destroying the other pentagrams?” she asked. “At least then, Camille and the others who wait outside will be able to get in and help us."
"Kinnard warned that if we destroyed any more pentagrams, he'd destroy everyone left in this town."
"He's going to do that anyway,” she bit back. “You really don't think he's simply going to walk away after all this, do you?"
"Dunleavy has never walked away without causing as much havoc and death as he could muster." She hesitated, but curiosity got the better of her, and she asked, “Did Christine get caught in one of Dunleavy's death and destruction binges?"
She caught his grimace in the mirror. “No. Christine paid the price for my stupidity."
"What happened?"
"We were living in Chicago at the time—"
"You and Christine?” she interrupted, surprised. “In the same house?"
"No, not in the same house.” His gaze met hers in the mirror, dark eyes filled with a heat that made her toes curl. “I have only lived with two women in all my years as a vampire. And I have truly loved only one."
She sighed softly. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was the fact that she'd never tire of hearing him say things like that.
He smiled. “We lived in the same district and had been lovers for years. When her husband died, she used his legacy to open a small milliner store. Over the years, her business, and her fame, grew." She didn't bother commenting on the fact he'd basically admitted he and Christine had been lovers while her husband was still alive. Given the utter loneliness she'd sensed in him when she first met him, she could hardly take him to task for grabbing happiness where he found it. Besides, it had all happened long ago, and the people involved were long dead. “So how did Dunleavy get involved with her?"
"He didn't. I caught him trying to kidnap a woman and beat him up. My mistake was not killing him."
"Why on earth didn't you?"
He shrugged. “At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn't realize he was anything more than a blood thirsty vampire intent on a kill."
