A Mermaid's Ransom
wits about you, something may present itself. It's probably the hardest thing, but you have to stay calm. Above all else, protect your ability to think .
    That community college course was hell and gone from where she was now. But she supposed a woman pursued by a mugger into a dark alley felt the same way. Her father, who'd fought Dark Ones for centuries, said the same thing about being in battle. She'd heard him instructing new recruits. "You always stay levelheaded. That's the most important thing."
    Easier said than done. Her body was still twitching from that latest encounter with the charged sides of her prison. She pushed herself up on her arms again. At least the blood was helping keep her scales somewhat lubricated, but that wouldn't last long. Dante stopped his chant then. He picked up a tattered cloth from the arm of his chair, wiped his face and chest with his back toward her. As he turned, a smear of it remained on his throat and jaw, like a warrior's face paint. Her heart leaping into her throat, she took her first look at her captor, her dream, in the terrible flesh.
    The dream had been a bridge between their two realities, not a distorted view. At least not physically. Still tall and beautiful in an unsettling, unearthly way, still sculpted with lean muscle. He wore a pair of ragged trousers only, and she wondered where he'd obtained them in this strange place. Then she remembered his words. Bring me more blood . She recoiled. Whose blood was she in? Whose blood had provided the tracings for those brands on her flesh? He'd put his mouth on her, his hands, his . . . Oh, Goddess.
    "Why?" she rasped, when he didn't seem disposed to speak first.
    He crouched on the outside of her circle. Unlike his fellows, apparently the caster could cross the edge. But when he did, reaching toward her face, she scrambled back, careful not to hit the opposite side, but making it clear she was not willingly going to allow him to touch her again. "It was all a trap. A lie."
    His face remained dispassionate. "Yes. A trap."
    "Why? What do you want from me?"
    "Nothing." He cocked his head, a sparse motion. "A witch made a vow to me. I'm holding her to it, and you are the way I will do it."
    "Mina?"
    He nodded. "She promised if I proved myself capable of leaving this world, she would free me. I have taken her goddaughter, and you will die, slowly, painfully, if she does not release me. That shows I am capable of doing what is necessary to leave this world. I have sent her that message. It was even more difficult magic than what was necessary to come into your dreams, so the message is short. But if she heard it, she will respond to me."
    "Please . . ." Lex tried to drag in another breath. "Stop scaring me."
    Dante's brow creased. "I am simply telling you what is."
    "I can't breathe."
    "You are in your merangel form, so your lung capacity is diminished. The air here is not suitable for your life-form. Any of them," he added, his attention pausing on the wings, then coming back to dwell on her face.
    Her father and mother spoke little of the Dark One world, but she knew that something that wasn't a Dark One couldn't survive long here, no more than a Dark One could survive long away from it. Which meant the being before her was at least a sorcerer, for she was being protected by his spell. Since her breath was still labored and the crush of all those despondent energies upon her felt like she was in a box that would soon cave inward, either the spell was weak or the outside energies were that strong. Studying his crimson eyes, she was betting on the latter.
    "What are you?" Though she wasn't sure she wanted to know. His ability to tear the head off a creature that looked strong as an ox confirmed he wasn't just a sorcerer.
    "Dark Spawn. Half vampire, half Dark One."
    "Vampire?" Of course he was a vampire. He'd drunk her blood in the dream.
    Think, Lex. What are your strengths here? What can you do? Now that the other creatures were gone,

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