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There didn't seem to be any sort of incline, suggesting the tunnel was burrowing deeper into the hill. The creaks and groans of the supports seemed to be growing louder, as if they were having trouble bearing the weight of the earth above them.
She shivered and somehow resisted the urge to glance upwards and inspect the roof. Michael stopped abruptly. “I smell blood."
The air smelled no different to her, but she wasn't as attuned to blood as he was. Nor did she ever want to be. “Old or new?"
He hesitated. “Both."
"A sacrifice site?"
"Possibly. It seems to be coming from the right, which means there's probably a junction in the tunnel up ahead."
"So let's check it out."
Something sparked through the link between them—a brief surge of resignation and amusement combined. She reached out, trying to touch that spark, trying to bring his awareness of her out into the open. For a moment, their thoughts combined, wrapping her in joy and love, then energy surged between them, and the spark died.
But not for long, she suspected, barely able to resist the urge to dance. Her Michael was closer to the surface than ever before.
"You should stay here,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “But I'm guessing you won't." "And you'd be guessing right.” She squeezed his fingers lightly. “Can you sense anything else?"
"At this stage, no."
He tugged her forward again. They'd barely walked a dozen steps when they reached a T-intersection. There was nothing to be seen either way but more rough-hewn tunnel.
"Still nothing?” she asked.
"There's a heartbeat. It's faint, but very fast.” He frowned at her. “Its beat is more one of pleasure than pain."
She raised her eyebrows. “There's a difference."
His smile was slow and sexy and made her heart do a dance.
"Oh, yes."
"How?"
"Now is not the time for an explanation,” he said, voice dry. “Perhaps we should see what's going on ahead, first."
"Then let's do it."
They moved quickly down the right-hand tunnel. The air became thick and chilled and slapped wetly across her skin. Water splashed into the silence, growing ever louder the closer they got to the source. The rough-hewn walls gave way to natural rock, and the beams supporting the roof became few and far between.
The tunnel opened into a cavern. Her footsteps seemed to echo, lending the cavern a feeling of vastness. Michael stopped, and his anger boiled through the link.
"What?” she said, even as she looked up.
And saw what he saw.
It wasn't water dripping.
It was blood.
Chapter Ten
Nikki could only stare, wondering if she'd stepped into some macabre version of the Twilight Zone . A woman hung from the ceiling. She was naked. Her torso was unmarked and her skin had a bluish tint and was covered with goose bumps. She was hanging upside down, her feet tied and somehow roped to the ceiling. Her arms were free, hanging limply past her ears. Her wrists bore several small cuts, but the blood dripped rather than pulsed down the woman's fingers. Some of the cuts had scabbed over, some hadn't, indicating, perhaps, that the wounds were being monitored and opened when necessary. The woman's eyes were wide open, but unfocused, almost dreamy-looking, and barely audible moans pushed past her bloodless lips.
They weren't moans of pain, but rather pleasure.
Nikki swallowed, forcing her gaze away from the obvious bliss on the woman's pale face and studied the thing covering half of her body. It was almost slug-like in form, and it stretched from breast to groin, where its body joined with the woman's. It was moving, squirming, in what looked like ecstasy, its actions matching the woman's pleasured groans.
