Page 61 of A Velvet Kiss After Dark

With a heavy lift and his harsh grunts, she slowly pulled him back up and began their slow arduous walk to the doorway. The dragon saw them, and in its fiery red eyes, Tabitha saw an intelligent, smart creature that understood far more than she did.

His knees gave out, and she winced as his weight sagged upon her burnt back and arms, tearing apart the scorched burns upon her. Somehow she summoned forth the strength and pulled them both back up and lunged inside just as a blast of fire beat at them. Without wasting a beat, she shoved Kánnérd to the ground and slammed the door closed. A large wooden bar-hook was propped up from where the door had been opened, and she slammed it down to bar it shut. Heat immediately suffused the door, the temperature so hot, Tabitha had jerked herself backward before she was scalded.

She turned back to Kane. He had yet to stand from where she'd left him. Blood seeped from his pores and his fur was in tatters. She ran to him and knelt beside him, but she hesitated as to where to touch him when he was in such agony.

"Kánnérd…what can I do for you?" she asked softly.

Tabitha quickly gazed around the room and ensured they were alone. Pews were lined up and an altar sat at the rear of the building atop a dais. They were in a church of sorts, for whatever God they worshiped here in Hell.

Kánnérd winced. His breaths still came in uneven spurts, and he didn't look well whatsoever. Suddenly his teeth gnashed and he growled as his body began to tremble violently.

"Kane! What's happening?" Alarm rose in her voice as did panic. So quickly did she resume his altered name rather than his formal one.

Without further sound, the fur against his skin dissipated his massive body, which must weigh more than eight hundred pounds in this form, dissolved back into his human form, bereft of clothes, weapons, and even his backpack. And stark naked.

His human face was drawn in agony, his breaths were labored. Oh God…she thought.

"Are you dying?" she asked and quickly averted her eyes from his rather seriously fit and lithe naked body. As in buck-naked, his hero lying between two thick, masculine thighs.

Kane's eyes found hers and he glared meanly. "You wish…air witch."

She jerked back in surprise. Air witch? "You're speaking nonsense. I'm no witch. I'm human, remember?" Now she was beginning to wonder if he'd lost his marbles.

When he spoke next, his words were rattling in his throat and blood spilling from between his lips. He held his arm across his midsection as he groaned in agony and brought him up to a standing position. "You somehow managed to toss me and three others like we weigh nothing, Tabitha. Using nothing more than wind. How did you get the power to conjure wind, Tabitha? I need you to remember."

She stuttered as she said, "I—I don't know. I haven't thought about it. It's not like it's been a priority. I've been running from you ever since—"

Kánnérd suddenly cornered her, his face striking handsome and exotic in the darkly-lit room where only candelabras floating against the wall blazed to illuminate his shadowy visage.

"Ever since what, Tabitha?" he said, mincing no words. "Ever since you drank too much of that blasted demonic beer?" He turned around, not waiting for an answer and growled beneath his breath about how badly this whole realm needed a good nuking.

Kánnérd found a red robe, the likes of which those "monk-types" outside had been wearing and shoved it over his head. It fit awkwardly, not long enough to reach his ankles, and the sleeves barely passed his elbows, but at least his rather gloriously naked flesh was covered. She shivered, and it wasn't in disgust.

However, Tabitha couldn't disagree with what he said, although she wasn't a proponent for murder like he apparently was. The thought triggered a sudden memory within her. The werewolf was a mercenary, wasn't he? A hired gun?

"Do you…kill people for a living?" she said.

Kánnérd scoffed, but the action ended in a wince as his bloody, battered body moved the wrong way.

"Memory coming back now, love?" Kánnérd asked.

Tabitha shrugged and said, "Maybe. Am I right?"

A nod was his only answer, and then he grabbed her hand and began searching the mysterious monastery they were hiding inside.

"Come, we have a cultish laboratory to investigate," he said and held out a blood-soaked hand to her.

Hesitantly she accepted the gesture, and callouses met softness as their hands glided in union. A brief pause of delight espoused through her as her heart made a serious leap of happiness at their touch. Quelling the positive sensation, Tabitha made her expression stony, or at least she tried to, and allowed Kánnérd to lead her further into this "cultish laboratory", as he called it.

Amidst ancient bookshelves with rolled parchments with scrawling red-inked texts and maps, they found gizmos and devices, some of which seemed to activate when touched upon. Such as the strange microphone thing, which Tabitha found upon a beaten-down wooden table. The moment she touched it, feeling safe for the first time in forever, a moment of revelry had come over her and she'd jostled the device to her mouth as if to sing a song, but then the device had shot out a red-powder that blasted her in the face. Kánnérd came over at once, worry infusing every muscle in his brow. He scrubbed a ruddy cloth he found on the table across her face to clear of the mineral powder.

"Does it burn you?" he asked harshly, his words coming out rapidly. "Does it hurt, sweetheart?"

She furrowed her brow as he rubbed the cloth across her face repeatedly. "No, it doesn't hurt. Just embarrassed. It looked like a microphone."

He picked up the device as soon as he was done and studied it. "It does look similar, but be wary that we are not on earth anymore and these fire demons don't know about our technology, just as we don't know theirs. I suggest not touching anything until we learn where we are and figure a way out of this place without having to face the dragon again."

Nodding in agreement, Tabitha put some much-needed space between them. The room they were in, some tiny adjoining compartment filled with bookcases, a desk, some of those floating candelabras, and quill and ink wells seemed innocent enough; however, she'd learned her lesson. She was honestly thankful the strange substance hadn't blinded her—or worse.

---