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Uncle Harry.”

  My eyes wanted to tear up again when I read his pet name for me, but I held myself in check grimly. I was sick of feeling weak and girly.

  “Sounds like quite a hike,” Michael murmured.

  “An hour at least, maybe two.” I said. Well, I was ready to stretch my legs after the long car ride anyway. “It’ll probably be dark by the time we get back,” I told Michael. “I’m going to see if the flashlights Uncle Harry always kept are still good. Not that you’ll need one but I don’t plan to be stumbling around on top of the mountain without being able to see where I’m going.”

  “Wait a minute.” He put a hand on my arm to stop me. “Kate, what about your uncle’s warning? What payment are we supposed to bring? And for that matter, who are we paying it to and for what?”

  I shrugged. “I’m hoping whoever we’re going to see has information. Maybe they can shed some light on this whole prophesy thing I heard The Monsignor talking about.”

  “But the payment?” He frowned. “I don’t like that whole ‘it will be nothing you can hold in your hand’ bit. Somehow I get the feeling that whoever or whatever is living in that mountain cave doesn’t accept credit or debit.”

  “Good,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “Less to carry. Look,” I continued, seeing the stubborn look on his face. “Do you have any other ideas? Because I’m fresh out. We came here for answers—well, this is what we’ve got to go on. And believe me, Uncle Harry didn’t hand out warnings lightly so if he says be careful, I’m damn well going to be careful. But I’m not going to sit around here with my thumb in an unmentionable part of my anatomy just because I’m scared.”

  A look of reluctant admiration lit his eyes. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said. “I’m still trying to decide if that’s a good thing or not.”

  “Decide while we hike,” I said. “Time’s wasting.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As expected, it was a long, cold hike. Spring in the mountains is still a hell of a lot colder than Spring in central Florida and the thin pink sundress and the t-shirt I was wearing over it didn’t offer much protection against the elements. Michael saw me shivering as he hiked the steep mountain trail and I thought at first he was going to say something. Instead, he took off the brown leather jacket he’d brought with him and draped it over my shoulders. I thought about protesting but he gave me a stern look.

  “Just wear it, Kate.” His deep voice held a hint of command that surprised me. He’d been so mild mannered from the moment I met him, I had never expected him to start acting all macho and protective. Of course, earlier I’d been wondering when his natural male stubbornness would assert itself. I supposed it was better that it happened here, on the lonely deserted side of the mountain than in the middle of a fire fight with the vamps.

  “Fine,” I grumbled, pulling the butter-soft leather more closely around myself. “But only because you’re the one who made me wear this damn sundress in the first place. If I still had my slayer suit on I’d be warm and toasty right now.”

  “That’s a hell of a suit all right.” Michael gave me admiring glance, as though he was imagining me in the tight black vinyl. “When I saw you in it, I thought—”

  “What, that I was a dominatrix?” I raised an eyebrow at him but he shook his head.

  “Never mind what I thought. Let’s just say it was a good thing I was sitting down through most of our first meeting. Scrubs don’t hide much.”

  It amused me to think that I’d made such a strong impression on him. “So you like Goth chicks, huh?” I said, pushing aside the branches of a tree that grew over the trail.

  “I like pretty women,” Michael corrected me. “Hell, any guy does. But it wasn’t just that with you, Kate. The minute I saw you I just felt a connection—something I had to explore. I don’t know why.” He looked at me. “Do you feel the same at all? Or is it just me?”

  I thought of the way I’d dragged him home with me instead of staking him after he was bitten, of the way I’d cried when I thought he had been blown to dust and ashes by the sun out behind the burned out church. The way I’d let him drink from me…touch me…taste me. Instant connection indeed—I’d been acting against all my instincts from the first moment I saw him. And I still was.

  “Kate?” he murmured, his voice soft and I knew he wanted an answer to his question.

  “We’re here,” I said, relieved that we had reached the end of our trail before I had to come up with something to say. We’d been getting a little too personal lately and it was making me nervous.

  “What?” Michael frowned.

  “The silver birch, see?” I gestured to the tall, graceful tree. “And look, right beside it is the flowering bush.” This early in the Spring, the flowers were mostly buds but it was clear this was the bush Uncle Harry had written about. It was flush against the side of the mountain and almost as tall as I was.

  “Oh, I guess so.”

  “Great.” I pushed the curtain of long, willowy branches to one side. Sure enough there was an opening and a kind of tunnel that ran around the inside of the bush. I drew my Glock. “I’ll go first.”

  “Why?” he demanded, frowning. “Why should you always walk into danger first?”

  Great—here we went with the macho bullshit I’d been waiting for.

  “Because I know what I’m doing,” I snapped. “And I’m armed.”

  “But I can see in the dark,” he pointed out. “I’m supernaturally strong and fast and a lot less breakable than you. You let me help search around the safe house earlier.”

  “That was different.” I said shortly. “It was still daylight then.”

  “Day or night, it doesn’t matter. Kate…” He cupped my cheek gently in one large, warm hand, tilting my chin so that I had to look up at him. “Let me go first, okay?” he said softly. “You don’t always have to protect me. Let me protect you for a change. Please?”

  His soft request seemed to take all the wind out of my sails. I’d been prepared for a fight—for him to act tough and misogynistic and try to put me in my place. Instead he was standing there, cupping my face and looking down at me with a warmth in his gold-flecked green eyes that made my stomach quiver in the strangest way.

  “All right,” I heard myself saying, though I didn’t remember making up my mind to agree to his request. “You can go first but don’t blame me if you get your head ripped off.”

  “Thank you.” He surprised me by stooping and pressing his lips to mine briefly—a kiss so soft it was like the tender brush of a butterfly’s wings. Then, before I could protest, he turned and headed through the flowering bush and into the cave.

  I followed cautiously, looking around him as well as I could with my Glock in one hand and my last half vial of holy water in the other. Damn it, I was already regretting letting him go first. I wanted to be out in front where I could assess any threat that might come at us. He might be supernaturally fast and strong but I had a hell of a lot more experience in combat situations. I wouldn’t have let him talk me into going second if he hadn’t given me that look from those gorgeous green eyes of his…

  “Thiss is my housse. How dare you intrude? Halt and sspeak your namess.”

  The dry, hissing voice coming from the darkness before us had me reaching around Michael to point my Glock in its general direction. I didn’t shoot—not yet—but I had about two pounds of pressure on the trigger and I was ready to unload in a heartbeat if the speaker turned out to be a threat.

  “I’m Michael and this is Kate. We were told we could come here for help.” Michael sounded cautious but not frightened which wasn’t good. A little fear is healthy when you’re facing monsters in the dark. Then again, the tunnel we’d been traveling through wasn’t dark to him, I reminded myself. He could see even in pitch blackness now, as he had pointed out earlier. So maybe the owner of the voice didn’t look very threatening.

  Then a torch flared to life in the darkness and I got a look at our host. Okay, I wa