"Why Dante?"

Dante smiled wryly. "He said that I needed to learn to be more a poet than a warrior."

"Ah, Dante, of course."

"He warned me that a predator was more than muscle and teeth. A predator must use his intelligence to observe his prey and learn their weaknesses. A kill is far easier when you can predict how your quarry is going to react."

Abby grimaced. "God, I thought my outlook was bleak."

He shrugged. "He wasn't all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"If I had been quicker to sense a trap, then those witches would never have gotten their hands on me."

In a heartbeat, Abby was on her knees and had her hands framing his face. The thought that it might have been some other vampire besides Dante here with her was enough to make her stomach clench with horror.

"And you wouldn't be Dante," she said in stern tones.

An odd smile touched his lips. "And that would be a bad thing?"

"A very bad thing," she whispered.

Without warning, he leaned forward to plant a fierce, possessive kiss upon her lips before reluctantly pulling back to regard her with a searching gaze.

"As much as I would love to stay and play, I think we had better move along."

Abby stiffened. Move along? Go out into the dark and face whatever creepy crawlies were out there waiting?

It didn't sound at all appealing. Not when she could think of several other things she would rather be doing in the dark.

Things that involved one sexy vampire and maybe some scented oil…

"Do we have to leave?" she demanded. "We're at least safe here."

He gave a shake of his head. "No, we're very nicely trapped here. Especially once the sun rises."

Abby wrinkled her nose, accepting that he might have a point. "Where will we go?"

Rising to his feet, he reached out his hand to help her up. "First we find the car and then head back to Chicago."

Once on her feet, Abby made a hopeless stab at dusting off her pants. Stupid, of course. The dust helped to cover the wrinkles.

"Why Chicago?"

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "Because Viper can keep you protected while I try and find some means to trace the witches."

She jerked her head upward, her lips thinning into a line that should warn the most obtuse vampire she was not pleased.

"You're not thinking about going after them alone?"

Wise enough to sense trouble before it slapped him upside the head, Dante regarded her with a wary eye.

"I am the only one who knows their scent."

"Not the only one," she gritted. "There's something out there that is hunting them. Something that alreadyfound them once and gutted them like sushi. A trick I'm sure they would love to show you up close and personal."

"Graphic, but true," he conceded. "Which is why I need to get you to Viper."

She planted her hands on her hips. "And why you won't go after the witches alone."

"We can argue as we walk," he murmured, taking her hand and pulling her out of the cave. "It will make a nice change from your shrill complaints that I'm leading you in circles."

Abby took a moment to appreciate the faint breeze that stirred the air. It carried with it a scent she could only presume had something to do with nature. She had always made a point of never going anywhere that didn't have pavement and a Starbucks. It was rather strange to be surrounded by trees and stars.

Not strange enough, however, to make her forget that she was in the middle of correcting Dante's mistaken assumption that he could go about playing the Lone Ranger while she was around.

"There's not going to be an argument," she said in her best third-grade-teacher voice. "You're not going alone, and that's final."

He flashed a superior smile. "I'll admit you have stubbornness down to an art form, but I've had four centuries to perfect my own. You don't stand a chance."

Her smile was even more superior. "Four centuries is nothing. I'm a woman."

"So you are." His gaze made a lazy journey over her rumpled form. "A beautiful, glorious woman who purrs like a kitten when I stroke your—"

"Dante."

His lips twitched at her blush. "What? I like kittens."

She struggled to frown. 'You're just trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"I—" Abby came to an abrupt halt as a cold chill feathered over her skin.

In less than a heartbeat, Dante was at her side, his body coiled and prepared to strike. All he needed was a victim.

"What is it?"

"There's something out there," she muttered.

His head tilted up, his eyes closing. For a long moment he remained silent, then he gave a slow shake of his head.

"I sense nothing."

Any other night, Abby would have shrugged and admitted she must have been imagining things. A brief cold chill was hardly something to get twisted over.

This was not any other night, however, and while she might not be Mensa material, she wasn't entirely stupid. She wasn't about to ignore her instincts, which were making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"I think it's the same thing that attacked us at Viper's."

He gave a low growl deep in his throat. A sound that did nothing to help with the prickles.

"Abominations," he hissed. "Where?"

"In front of us," she promptly retorted, and then less certainly she swiveled about. "And I think behind us."

Dante took a quick glance around before grasping her hand and tugging her deeper into the trees.

"This way."

Abby had no intention of arguing. Her stomach was already clenched with an icy dread, and her heart lodged somewhere in her throat. At the moment she was quite willing to run all the way back to Chicago if necessary.

Keeping low to avoid the branches that blocked their paths, they scurried through the dark. Dante with his usual elegant silence and Abby crashing behind him like a bull elephant with a tranquilizer stuck in its butt.

Her prickles continued despite their swift flight, at times becoming more pronounced and then oddly fading. She didn't need her instincts, however, to tell her they were being chased. The living dead were no longer making a secret of their presence, and they stumbled after them making even more racket than she did.

Panting and grimly ignoring the stitch that was ripping through her side, Abby briefly wondered how the corpses could move with such speed. For God's sake, they were dead, weren't they? Most of them no doubt killed from an overdose of meat, cigarettes, and beer.

They should be shuffling along like proper zombies, not blazing through the woods as if they were the freaking Kenyan track team.

Struggling to keep up with Dante's numbing pace, Abby was unprepared for him to come to a sudden halt. Slamming into his back, she was only kept upright by the arm he was quick enough to wrap about her waist.

"Damn," she grunted, sucking in deep gasps of air. "Why did you stop?"

The silver eyes glittered in the darkness, Ms features set in hard lines.

"I don't like this."

Abby shivered, glancing over her shoulder at the unmistakable sound of an advancing horde.

"I don't particularly care for it either, but it's a hell of a lot better than those things catching us."

That's the point," he rasped.

"What?"

"They could have surrounded us, cut off any escape. Why haven't they?"

Abby frowned, barely able to keep herself still when every instinct screamed at her to continue her willy-nilly bolt for safety.

"Because they're freaking brain dead."

Dante appeared stunningly unimpressed with her logic. "They may be dead, but they're being controlled by someone."

"And your point?"

There was a pause as his eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "We're being herded."

"Herded?" It took a moment for Abby to collect a mental image. "You mean like sheep?"

"Exactly like sheep."

"But… why?"

Astonishingly the beautiful features managed to harden even further. "I don't think we want to find out."

Abby's heart sank from her throat to her lower stomach. If Dante was worried, then it had to be bad. Really, really bad.

"Oh God, what do we do?" she muttered.

"I suppose we either stand and fight or try to make a run for it."

Abby didn't even have to think about it.

"I'm voting on the run-for-it option."

"Let's do it, then." Tightening his arm about her waist, Dante pulled her upward, planting a too-brief kiss on her lips before tossing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Hold on tight, lover."

Abby gave a startled squeak as he took off with a fluid speed that made the trees a mere blur in passing. It was certainly faster than having her blundering behind, slowing both of them to her human pace, but she discovered that the swaying was making her distinctly queasy.