Why she thought it was a vampire who waited inside, Nikki couldn't say. Evil came in many forms—some of them human, some of them not. Maybe it was just Jasper's memory rising like a ghost to tease her fears to life.
But she'd let those fears get the better of her once—and had lost Michael because of them. They would never get the better of her again.
She pulled herself through the window then hunkered down, listening for any hint of sound. Beyond the harsh note of her breathing the silence was absolute—as absolute as the darkness. If Matthew was moving around in this, he had to have the eyes of a cat.
Keeping one hand against the outer wall for guidance and the other in front of her, she slowly moved forward. Five steps in she hit another wall and followed it out into the warehouse. A sound broke the silence—something heavy clattering across the concrete. A soft curse followed.
"Lizzie? You in here?” Matthew's voice held a combination of petulance, bravado and fear. “Why don't you stop playing games and come out?"
"You lied to me, Matthew."
Though the words were soft, there was something in them that spoke of death. Ice crawled across Nikki's skin.
"Only about my age.” The whine in Matthew's voice was more evident this time. “Only by a few years."
"Years matter, especially to someone like me."
The husky voice was drawing closer to Matthew. So was the sense of death. A chill chased its way across Nikki's overheated skin. She closed her eyes briefly, restraining the urge to scream for help. If she did, Matthew would die.
"So what if I lied about my age. It doesn't change who I am or what I feel." He was close, maybe only a few steps away. Nikki edged to her left, the knife grasped tightly in one hand, the other outstretched. She'd probably scare the life out of him if she touched him, but at least it was a touch he'd survive. He wouldn't be so lucky if his husky-voiced girlfriend got to him first.
"It changes everything. Your age means people will worry about you. Your age means people will follow you and attempt to protect you."
Nikki froze. The woman knew she was there. Knew she was following Matthew. Air stirred sluggishly, whispering past her cheek. Someone was moving. Someone she couldn't see or hear. Someone other than the woman Matthew had come here to meet. Sweat trickled down the side of her face. She ignored it, not daring to move, her breath lodged somewhere in her throat.
The sense of impending doom was so thick her skin crawled with it. Kinetic energy crackled across her fingertips. She clenched her hand, searching the cover of night, looking for the source of the movement. The air stirred again, and with it came the sound of a soft step behind her. Nikki spun, and hell broke loose.
Chapter Two
Michael, are you listening to me?
The voice edged through his consciousness, as sharp as fingernails down a blackboard. He opened his eyes, watching the flames dance in the hearth. Despite the fire, the chill of night sat heavily in the cabin. But outside the howling wind no longer rattled the windows, and the smell of rain was in the air. From down the valley came the soft calls of the cattle that were his main source of sustenance. Hunger stirred in his belly. He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was just past six in the evening. He'd been asleep for close to nine hours and hadn't eaten in at least two days. It was a good sign that his demon was finally on the retreat.
Michael, I know you can hear me. If you don't start answering, I'm going to raid that damn cabin of yours and slap some sense into you.
He smiled reluctantly. Over the last six months, Seline had been a constant, if distant, companion. She badgered him endlessly, never letting his resolve slip, never letting him give up hope. She'd been his strength in the early days of darkness, when the demon was close to winning control, and he'd just wanted to give up the fight permanently.
He owed her his life, but she still managed to annoy the hell out of him. A man would be hard-pressed to sleep with you around, Seline. If a man wants to sleep when I'm around, he needs to be certified. The gentle lilt of her mind-voice deepened provocatively. He snorted softly. Seline was a thin, frail-looking woman, but she certainly didn't look the one hundred and eighty years he knew her to be. And she certainly didn't act it—as her many lovers would no doubt attest. Bit early for your nightly check-in, isn't it?
We have a problem, Michael. I think we're going to need your help. He rubbed a hand across his eyes. Seline's type of problem was the one thing he could live without right now. He'd spent too long battling the need to kill, struggling against the urge to taste the sweet strength of human blood. To confront such desires in another might be too much of a test for his newly found resolve.
Yet if he stayed locked up here in his retreat, he would never really know if the battle had been won. What type of problem?
Disappearances.
He frowned. People disappeared every day in the U.S.—some intentional, some not. It was something Seline didn't usually involve the Circle in—unless there were dark forces at play. What type of disappearances are we talking about?
Her confusion swept down the mental link between them. It was an odd enough occurrence to make him sit up straight and start paying more attention.
We're not really sure. For almost a week now, I've had a feeling that something was wrong. But it wasn't until I picked up the paper this evening and read about the disappearance of Vance Hutton that the feeling crystallized into certainty.
Michael frowned. We're talking about Vance Hutton, the actor? Didn't he just get married?
Yeah—to that scrawny English actress.
Scorn overlaid her thoughts, and he smiled. The old witch had been rather keen on Hutton. She beat you to the punch, huh?
She chuckled. I wasn't planning to marry the boy—just bed him. Had she really set her mind to it, she would no doubt have succeeded. It was amazing what makeup and a little magic could hide. How did he disappear?
He was apparently honeymooning in Wyoming—some exclusive resort in Jackson Hole. He frowned. Jackson Hole was primarily a ski area, although with the abundant wildlife and its proximity to Yellowstone and several other national parks, it had a good run with summer tourists as well. So what happened to him?
Her shrug shimmered down the mental line. That's the problem—no one knows. That skinny woman he married woke up one morning to find him gone. He apparently left everything behind—wallet, money and most of his clothes. There was no note, and no indication that he was feeling suicidal or depressed.
Have the police been called in?
Naturally. They're as clueless as the wife.
Michael scratched his chin, then rose from the sofa and crossed to the window. Night had closed in, but the moon was bright, silvering the aspens lining his driveway. Jackson Hole wasn't that far away—a couple hours’ drive at the most.
A fact Seline was well aware of.
Yet he held back the offer to go investigate. Past experience warned it was wise to wait when it came to Seline and her visions. Jump too soon, and you didn't get the entire story. Not that she ever sent her investigators into situations blind—far from it. But she often had information on the emotional impact of certain situations that she didn't impart unless pushed.
It had happened to him. She'd sent him to Lyndhurst to catch the man who'd murdered his brother. He'd not only succeeded in killing Jasper, but had lost his heart in the process. He closed his eyes, fighting the desire to reach out through the link forged between him and Nikki. Six months without contact seemed like an eternity, and he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to survive the years ahead without her. Yet some days it seemed all he had to do was close his eyes and he could feel the caress of her fingers against his skin. Could feel the warmth of her smile in his mind. Neither of which he would ever actually feel again.
He had no intention of contacting her after all this time. It wasn't fair to give her hope when his work made even the possibility of a life together an impossible dream. He caressed the silver cross he wore around his neck and stared moodily at the star-drenched sky. What makes you think this is a case for the Circle to get involved in?
Instinct, Michael. There's more to this case than meets the eye. I checked back through the papers. It seems people have a habit of disappearing from this particular resort—fifteen in the last year, in fact. How could fifteen people disappear without someone—particularly the press—getting wind of the fact and raising a commotion? Have any of the missing turned up again?
All but three. I did some checking, though, and it appears they have become somewhat reclusive, only seen at night, never in daylight.
They're vampires. Hence Seline's desire for him to investigate. Sometimes the only way to track down a killer was to send another after them.
Yet they do not exhibit the classic feeding-frenzy symptoms of a newly turned vampire. From all accounts, they're still working, still living with their families, still eating normally. Then what are they? There was no way around the feeding frenzy stage—no magic that could cure the insatiable hunger of the newly turned. It was something you had to work through and survive. Not many did, and certainly not in a matter of weeks.
I'm not sure, and at this stage, it's not them I'm worried about. It's the resort. Whenever I try to do a reading on the place, all I get is darkness. Something evil resides there, Michael, and its influence grows by the day. We have to stop it.
But why me? If it wasn't a vampire they were dealing with, just about any of the Circle's other investigators were currently better equipped to investigate.
Seline was silent for a second. Michael crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the window frame. She was trying to decide just how much to tell him. If he played hard to get, she'd eventually open up and explain why she wanted him on this mission rather than the others. There are two reasons it must be you.
Her mind-voice was hesitant. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. In the century he'd known the old witch, indecision was something he'd rarely heard in her.
And they are? he prompted, when she showed no immediate signs of continuing. The darkness is linked with your past, Michael. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but it is something you must deal with.
I have over three hundred and sixty years behind me, Seline. Don't suppose you'd like to be a little more specific?
I'm sorry, but no, I can't. My visions are limited in many respects, unfortunately. I just know that it's vital you go to this resort, or more people will disappear. He sighed softly. It looked like he had very little choice in the matter. And the second reason?
The silence stretched between them once more. He frowned. This time worry, and perhaps even a little fear, mingled with the hesitation coming down the mental line.
It was the fear that concerned him, more than anything else.
Eventually, she sighed . You're not going to like this.
Just cut the dramatics and tell me what the problem is, Seline. His irritation tingled down the line, and he felt her frown. You must take Nikki with you.
"No!"
His reply was abrupt. Instinctive. Angry. There had been more than enough darkness in Nikki's life already—and he'd caused her more than enough pain in the brief time they'd been together. He wouldn't drag her into a similar situation.
Michael, she's already involved. She walks the path to the resort as we speak. If she is not accompanied by you, she will die.
Fear slammed through his heart. We share a life force, Seline. She cannot die as long as I live. But the image of her dead, her head torn from her neck, went through his mind. Bile rose, swift and sharp. He pushed the vision away and swallowed heavily.
But she is not immortal, as you are not immortal. Seline's mind voice held an edge of sharpness. Your actions have marked her for others of your kind to see. They will know what she is. Know how to get rid of her.
Only the very old vampires have any knowledge of thralls, Seline. And the term can only be used loosely when it comes to Nikki.
Perhaps. You have yet to test the limits of what you have done, so who can say what control you have over her?
Michael rubbed his eyes. It wasn't control he wanted. It was her heart. But she wasn't willing to risk that again—and certainly not with someone like him.
I have no wish to test the limits. No wish to even see her again. Do not lie to me, my friend. I can see the truth in your heart. Then you can also see the resolve.
She sighed. Yes. But the only true option you have right now is whether she lives or dies. Then there was no choice. Where is she now?
Seline's smile shimmered down the link . Where she always has been—Lyndhurst. The company helicopter is on the way to pick you up as we speak. The files will be on it, and I've made arrangements for a room at Jackson Hole.
So she'd been certain of his response all along. He clenched his fists and somehow managed to keep his mind voice even. Tell me one thing, Seline. Can you see the ending to all this?
All I can see is danger, and much pain. The road you walk will not be easy—for either of you. He smiled grimly. Danger and pain had been his close companions over the century he'd been a part of the Circle, and were a major part of the reason he could not allow Nikki into his life. I'll keep in contact, Seline.
Do that. And watch out for the past, Michael. Remember, the memory of love can be potent, but it is nowhere near as satisfying as the reality.
He frowned. What in the hell was that supposed to mean? The mental line went down before he could ask. He punched the window frame in frustration.
It looked like Jake had been right after all. Fate would not let him walk away from Nikki without a damned good fight.
Chapter Three
Matthew's scream ripped across the silence, as sharp as the gunshot that followed—a gunshot that had come from outside the warehouse.