She watched as he frowned down at the wadded-up feminine clothing in his hands, puzzling how to turn it right side out again for her. The slanted light from the heavy flashlight made flecks of silver in his salt-and-pepper hair shine.

He had an undeniably Roman profile with a nose that had been broken more than once, blunt, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw that more often than not revealed the determination of the man. Somehow he never managed to look quite civilized when he dressed in formal black tie. Now, standing shirtless in his battered jeans, he was the epitome of raw, lethal masculinity.

If his sire Carling hadn’t seen his potential and turned him, he would have died almost two thousand years ago. Melly was under three hundred years old, and she would never have met him.

If she would have heard anything about him – highly doubtful – anything she might have learned would have been from human history books. And while she was well versed in the history of all the Elder Races, she hadn’t studied much human history.

Chances are, she would have known nothing about his existence, nothing about his struggles or triumphs.

Or how he would have died.

Finding the thought deeply disturbing, she took her clothes from his outstretched hand without meeting his gaze. Quickly she pulled on her underwear and trousers, and slipped her feet into her ballet shoes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she muttered. His gaze was too penetrating at the best of times. The last thing she wanted was for him to dissect her right now.

Somehow he managed to make his answering grunt sound entirely skeptical, but he didn’t push it.

She finished off another bottle of water and ate the second banana, which meant there were two less things they needed to carry. Working together, they gathered everything up within a matter of moments.

He hesitated only once, when he rolled up the cot mattress and blanket again and tied the bedding with the strip, then slung it onto his shoulder. She didn’t have to ask why. Hopefully they wouldn’t need the bedding and they would find their way out quickly enough.

As she tucked the revolver into the grocery bag along with the last two bottles of water and remaining food, Julian arched an eyebrow at her.

“Why hold on to the gun now?” he said. “We’re out of bullets.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not letting go of a single potential resource until I know for sure it’s no longer of any use to me. Maybe Anthony has a car outside the tunnels, and maybe he has a box of extra bullets in the car.”

A quick smile creased his face. “Good point. Damn, I never thought of that. Are you ready?”

She cast a final glance around. Not that long ago, she had thought for certain she was going to die down here. “Oh, hell yeah.”

“Come on.” He tucked his stakes at the back of his waistband, took the large flashlight and led the way down to the gate. She carried the smaller flashlight, the grocery bag with the food and water, the gun, and her own stake in one hand.

After hearing so many ferals in the background for so long, the area seemed eerily empty. Looking quickly down both directions of the intersecting tunnel, he unlocked the gate, then paused to look at her.

“What?” she said.

Taking her chin in his hard fingers, he kissed her swiftly. “What happened back there – it wasn’t a fluke, Melly. We didn’t have sex because of the danger or because we got carried away by my bite. When we get out of here, we’re going to do it again. And again.”

Anger kindled at his words, and she jerked her chin out of his grasp. “You know what? You don’t get to screw me when you want, if you want. I’ll tell you if we’re going to have sex again or not – and with that highhanded, primitive caveman attitude of yours, it’s not looking very likely.”

She meant every damn word. He shouldn’t have smiled at that, but he did. As his lips slowly widened, his eyelids lowered and he gave her a look that was knowledgeable and full of intent.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she snapped.

“Like what?” he asked, sounding almost lazy.

“Mister I’ll-come-after-you-and-you’ll-like-it. Fuck you.”

His smile turned into an outright grin.

Gah, he looked so sexy. He made her crazy, and she still had a right hook with his name on it.

Then he snapped his head around and lost his smile, and at his hard, predatory expression, her stomach clenched.

She hadn’t heard anything, but she had been preoccupied with being mad at him, and his senses were so much sharper than hers.

She switched to telepathy. What is it?

Someone’s trying to be stealthy.

She strained to hear whatever it was that he heard. Do you think it’s one of the ferals?

Yes. Justine would be more quiet. He wrapped a hand around her forearm.

Pushing the gate open, he stepped out. He kept a strong grip on her so that she nearly tripped on his heels. For once, she didn’t mind his highhandedness. The tunnels seemed extra dark and menacing outside the protection of the locked gate.

Reluctantly, she said, You have to let go. I can’t use my stake when you’re holding on to my arm like that.

He frowned at her. I’m taking point, but I still want you to stay as close to me as you can.

Don’t worry, she told him grimly. I have no intention of lagging behind.

When his fingers loosened, she missed the comfort of his touch immediately and grew annoyed with herself. As they came to the first intersection, she remembered her first foray out into the tunnels, before she had known anything about the ferals. It seemed like it had happened ages ago.

She told Julian, When I first got out, I went exploring and I found a large, cavernous room. The ferals were there, feeding on a couple of people. They chased me back to my cell. I barely got it locked in time.

He shook his head. The thought makes me shudder.

It was the worst few minutes of my life. She paused, thinking. But here’s the thing – if Justine and Anthony have been bringing victims in for the ferals to feed on, then doesn’t it sound logical that one of the tunnels leading from that room can get us out?

It does, indeed, he told her. It might take us a while to find the right tunnel, but if we keep the room as our reference point, sooner or later, we’ll be able to find the right one. Can you get us back there?

She nodded. I kept mental track of my turns.

There was approval in his gaze when he glanced at her. Good job.