Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael #1)
Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael #1) Page 24
Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael #1) Page 24
"You will find no escape."
His gaze darted back to Jasper. He noted the insanity entrenched in the blue depths of his eyes, saw the gloating. Knew he was a man who enjoyed toying with his victims. No, not a man. A vampire. Jake cleared his throat. “Where are we?"
"Underground. Deep underground.” As Jasper spoke, a tremor ran through the ground, a vibration that shook the air and rushed wind through the darkness.
Were they in a tunnel? Did some sort of vehicle passing through cause the vibration? Maybe a train?
"Not even close,” Jasper mused. “I could, of course, tell you, but I doubt it would do you any good."
"Nikki won't look for me,” Jake replied, trying to sound casual, though tension knotted his gut and constricted his throat. “She won't run the risk of falling into your trap a second time."
"You lie, little man. I know her mind. I know how much she values your friendship." Jake closed his eyes. “They will stop you,” he whispered. “No matter what it takes.
"I like a man with confidence.” Jasper smiled sharply. “What if the cost is your own life?" Jake shrugged. He would die no matter what happened. He could see it in the monster's eyes. But he wasn't about to give Jasper the pleasure of his fear.
"I can read your mind, little man. I know what you feel."
"Then you know I loathe you more than I fear you."
The chill in the mad blue depths sent ice splintering down his spine. For an instant he regretted his rash words.
"Bravery must run in your profession,” Jasper said. “As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I must go tend to my traps. But first, a drink is called for, I think."
The fiend lunged at him. Jake scrambled backwards, but talon-like fingers caught his arm, tearing into skin. Jake swore and kicked out. Jasper only laughed. Fear slammed through Jake's entire being, and no amount of fighting against Jasper's hold could stop the journey towards the gleaming white teeth and death.
"Struggle little man. Struggle as hard as you can. I like my meal accompanied by fear." Teeth tore into his neck. Jake screamed as the warm gush of horror plunged him into darkness... Nikki's scream echoed through Michael's soul. He tore her from Jake's mind and lurched forward, catching her as she fell sideways out of the chair.
"Easy, little one. We're safe. You're safe,” he whispered and held her gently, one hand caressing the silky length of her hair.
She shuddered and wrapped her arms around him, holding on as if she'd never let him go. Which was about as far from the truth as you could get. “I'm sorry, Nikki. I should have pulled us out earlier."
"Yes,” she agreed softly.
Lightly linked as they were, he could see the visions running riot in her mind, felt her shudder as she remembered Jasper's teeth tearing into her flesh...
"Jake's memory. Not yours.” It will not happen to you, Nikki. I won't allow it.
"My memories because we were there."
"Hush. It's over."
She sighed into his chest, her breath warm against his skin. “For us. Not for Jake." True. He pulled away from her, though it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, and held her at arm's length. “If we want to save him, we'll have to move quickly." She sniffed then turned and sifted quickly through the papers of Jake's desk. “There's a map of the area
... here it is."
"Right.” He stood, giving her no time to dwell, no time to fear. “Where are all the tunnels situated?" She frowned, studying the map. “If it was a rail tunnel, there are three.” She pointed them out with a trembling hand.
He ignored the sudden desire to comfort her again. They had no time, nor was it right for him to keep touching her like he cared. “What about old caves? Mine shafts?"
"This section of the mountains is literally littered with old mines. I know a lot of them were filled to stop people falling down them, but there are about a dozen that still remain. Jake could be in any one of them." But Jasper couldn't. The shaft would have to be deep and long to provide the protection he needed.
“The tunnel was wet. We heard drips, remember?
She nodded, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “There are two old mines near the new dam they're building here.” She pointed to an area on the western edge of the map. “I'm pretty sure one of them goes into the mountain rather than down."
He saw her glance at the watch in her hand, saw her fingers twitch against it.
"Is he there, Nikki?"
"I think so,” she whispered. “But I've been wrong before." And it had resulted in death, Michael thought. Too much of her young life had been affected by death, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. But he'd do everything it took to stop Jake dying on her as well.
"We'll need some supplies,” he said.
"Out back."
She stood, but rather than brush past him, took the long way around the desk and walked across to the storeroom. He shook his head and followed her. She'd trusted him with her soul, but still wouldn't trust him with her heart. He wondered if she ever would.
But what in hell would he do if she ever did?
He leaned against the doorway and watched her collect some chocolate and a few cans of soda and throw them in a backpack. She pulled on a heavy coat and turned to face him. Fear was everywhere, in her thoughts and in her eyes.
"Ready?” he said softly.
Ready to dance with the devil himself? Never. Her thought ran through his mind like a frightened gazelle. Her gaze was grim when it met his
"But for Jake I must,” she said softly. “Let's go."
Chapter Fifteen
Nikki leaned against the trunk of a scrawny old pine, her breath ragged gasps that tore at her throat. She'd thought she was reasonably fit, but climbing this mountain had quickly put that notion to rest. She eyed the darkness ahead and wondered how much more they had to climb. And how in hell she was going to make it? The muscles in her legs were on fire. She couldn't possibly walk another step.
"Have a drink.” Michael took a soda from the backpack he carried and handed it to her.
"Thanks,” she replied and popped the top.
He nodded, his gaze sweeping the still night.
"Anything?” she asked, after a long drink of the lukewarm cola.
"Nothing. You?"
Her gaze skimmed the darkness. Ice crawled across her skin. There wasn't anything she could pin down, just instinct, warning her. “He's here, somewhere."
Michael nodded. “He'd hang around to watch the fun."
She looked at him in irritation. “Attempted murder cannot be classed as fun."
"To a man like Jasper, it can be.” His gaze when it met hers was assessing. “Ready?" No. She quickly drank the remains of the cola, and handed him the can. As she followed him up the slope, she couldn't help noticing his free and easy walk. He looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Yet tension and worry washed down the link. She still couldn't fully read his thoughts, but then, she didn't really want to. Not if it meant knowing how small their chances were of pulling this rescue off. She wrapped her fingers around the fob watch in her pocket. Its warmth comforted her, as did the slow but steady beat that told her Jake was still alive.
The entrance soon loomed before them, a cavernous hole framed by timber that looked older than Lyndhurst. Older than Michael.
"The timber's not that old,” he said, half smiling as he handed her the flashlight. “Here, hold this." She shined the beam at the entrance. The light penetrated only a few feet of darkness before being swallowed. But it was enough to see the footprints. Michael squatted on his heels and ran his fingers around the outline of the prints.
"Zombies,” he said, indicating a scuffed section on one print. “See? Their step is heavy, and they drag their feet. Jasper would leave no prints, and he would have carried Jake in."
"We knew he'd have traps waiting.” So why hadn't her psychic senses kicked in and warned her?
"They won't.” Michael stood and brushed the dirt off his hands. “Jasper's using the psychic net again—I can feel it pulsing. It's shielding this entire area, and probably interfering with your abilities." Yet the watch still beat between her fingers. “I can still feel Jake."
"Only because Jasper wants you to find him."
She shivered. “Then the rest of my abilities will be useless?"
"Probably. You can't find out without trying, and the net will catch you if you do." Her stomach twisted. While she'd often wished to be normal, to be free of the gifts that had somehow always set her apart, she'd known deep down that she relied on them too much to ever let them go. And her brief time with Jasper had proven just how useless she was without them. Michael wrapped his fingers around hers. “You're not alone, Nikki." She closed her eyes, fighting the warmth that sprang through her body. It wasn't right to want someone as much as she wanted Michael. Wasn't right to need his touch, the comfort of his arms to chase the demons away.
"I'll always be alone,” she said, and stepped away from him. It couldn't be any other way. Not when her love was a curse of death. Michael might be a vampire, but that didn't make him invincible. Monica had proven that vampires could die as fast as any human. “Let's go." He made no comment and turned away. She followed him into the darkness, her shaking hands making the flashlight's beam dance erratically.
The steady drip of water was all she could hear above the sound of her footsteps. Michael made no noise, as silent as a ghost. The chill in the air crept past the layers of her clothing and touched her skin with icy fingers.
She shivered and inched closer to Michael's broad back. Her psychic senses might be useless at this point, but she could still feel Jasper's evil all around her. Even the air they breathed seemed tainted by it. She swept the flashlight's beam across walls slick with slime. Rivulets of water ran down the slope past their feet, but to where? She remembered how damp Jake's clothes had been and guessed somewhere along the line they'd hit water. Hopefully it wouldn't be too deep. She was not a swimmer. Michael stopped abruptly, and she plowed into his back. “Give a girl some warning next time,” she muttered, rubbing her nose as she stepped around him.
The path led into a wide, still lake. She groaned. The path didn't seem to resurface anywhere near, if at all.
"How well do you swim?” Michael knelt and dipped his fingers in the water.
"Like a rock.” She shined the flashlight down onto the water. There was no telling how deep it was. It was too dark to see the bottom.
Michael sniffed the water on his fingers, then carefully tasted it. “Putrid,” he muttered, and spat the taste away. “Whatever you do, don't swallow it."
"I don't even want to go in it, let alone drink it.” She backed away from the edge. The more she stared at the water, the more certain she became that it was a trap. She had to get out of this tunnel and away from the death closing in on her...
And if she did, Jake would die.
Michael touched her hand. This time she didn't pull away.
"Keep close and hang on to my hand, no matter what happens." His concern ran down the link, a fire that warmed her soul. She squeezed his hand lightly. “I intend to, believe me. Whether I'm allowed to is another matter entirely." He brushed his fingertips along her cheek. “Just hold on to me. They can't drown me, but you're vulnerable."
As if she needed reminding. He tugged her forward. Black waves rippled across the lake's surface and raced away into the darkness. The water crept up her leg, then past her hips, and every step forward became more difficult. She kept her arm raised well above the lake, allowing the flashlight's beam to wash across the darkness. But she kept an eye on the water—just in case something jumped out and tried to grab the light. What she didn't need right now was utter darkness. The link flared to life, and Michael touched her thoughts. Warmth wrapped around her, a cocoon of comfort and strength. A girl could get used to this, she thought, and alarm stabbed through her heart. Because she was getting used to it, and it would only make his leaving all that much harder to bear. They plowed on through the icy water, but each step felt as if they were forcing their way through molasses.
Michael squeezed her hand gently. “Halfway there. Don't worry, we'll make it."
"You mean there is an end to this lake?” If there was, the flashlight couldn't pick it out.
"Yes. And the path's beginning to slope upwards again." They'd been following a path? She stepped on something slimy and slipped sideways, yelping in fright. The flashlight dipped under the water and darkness closed in, thick and heavy. Oh no... Michael yanked her upright, almost pulling her arm out of its socket.
"Great,” she muttered, hoping she didn't sound as scared as she felt. “Now I'm completely wet." Amusement and concern ran down the link. “Are you okay?"
She gave the flashlight a shake. Droplets of water sprayed across her face, lightly burning. The bright beam flickered then stayed on. “Now I am."
"Good. Don't slip again. You'll give me heart failure." She glanced up sharply. The seriousness behind his light remark shook her. It sounded like he cared—really cared. He'd told her vampires didn't have feelings—that they couldn't love. Was that a lie?
Every now and then he said or did something that made her think it was.
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