“We’ll never find it!” Alistair claimed.
“We will find it! Be still!” Edwina commanded.
It couldn’t be!David determined,God, it couldn’t be!He knew where they had taken her, he was convinced he even knew who was involved in taking her—and he wasn’t going to be able to find her.
He crawled desperately over rock, hesitated.
“Shawna!” he shouted.
Hopelessness filled him, pain, agony. He fought it. He had to find her. He’d search and search and search until he found her.
And pray that he did not find her too late.
He saw a crack in the stone and hurried toward it. It was a crack, and nothing more. In fury and frustration, he stood tall upon the rock, shouting her name again. “Shawna! Shawna! Shawna, for the love of mercy…”
His cry ricocheted and echoed off the rock. It rose into the night like the howl of a wolf beneath the full moon.
And amazingly, it was answered. Answered by the shriek that came to him faintly…
From the rock directly beneath him.
“Here!” he shouted suddenly. “She’s right here! Goddamn, somewhere right here!”
“There, David, there’s a shelf, an overlay!”
Edwina was right. There was an entrance right by them. It was there, the opening, behind an overlay of sheer rock. His sword in his hand, he tore through the opening.
Shawna twisted, shrieked, screamed, writhed, managing to break one of the ties that bound her ankles.
The creatures fell around her. Desperately, she kicked and struggled. Grunts, groans, and swearing sounded as she made contact with a number of jaws.
Her feet were held down.
Hands fell upon her naked shoulders.
She looked up.
Lowell stood there. Chanting. Chanting…faster, faster…faster.
The cloaked figures were dancing. Kissing the genitalia of their Goat God.
Lowell’s voice rose to a terrible pitch. His arm jerked in an upward motion.
His dagger gleamed.
She shrieked and twisted wildly. The blade was falling.
Yet, just then, a body came dropping out of the darkness of the night, landing hard upon the cavern floor, then pitching atop hers, covering it, completely.
David. He lay atop her, guarding her flesh from the knife if it should fall.
With his own.
But he didn’t intend to die. He had swiftly come upon her reaching out. His hands gripped Lowell’s arm before it could descend to the stone with the blade.
The two men were locked in combat.
David went rolling from her, drawing Lowell down with him to fall on the other side of the altar.