Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael #1)

Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael #1) Page 30

"You don't look so good.” MacEwan studied her with a frown. “Maybe you should go downstairs and let one of the doctors take a look at you."

She gingerly shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be prodded and poked. She was fine. Mostly.

"Then at least let me get someone to drive you home..." They both turned sharply at the sound of the exit door opening. More police officers. She sighed in relief.

"The cavalry, at last,” MacEwan commented dryly.

"Too late, as usual.” She rubbed at her temples. Would the pain ever go away? It was a white-hot fire, eating at her brain.

MacEwan gave her a wry look and waved his men over. “Would an earlier arrival have saved us? How many men does it take to kill a zombie?"

Only one— if you're a vampire. “Isn't that a bad joke somewhere?" He laughed, a startling sound in the hushed night. “Probably.” He turned as an officer approached.

“Jenkins, drive Miss James home, please."

The young officer nodded. MacEwan turned back to face her. “I dare say my superiors will want to talk to you about tonight."

"You know where to find me.” She glanced across at Jake, still safe in the shadows of the chimney.

“Will you get a doctor up here for Jake, as quickly as possible?" MacEwan nodded and spoke into his handset. Nikki waved away the young officer's offered arm and walked slowly towards the stairs. Every step she took sent lances of fire shooting through her brain. She bit her lip and fought the urge to sit and howl like a baby. It hurt, sure, but pain, in one form or another, was something she was used to, something she'd learned how to handle. Something I no longer want to fight alone.

"Nikki?” MacEwan called as she neared the door. She glanced back at him. “If you find the man behind this trouble, give me a call."

So you can do what? It was only thanks to Michael any of them were alive tonight. She nodded, too tired to do anything else, just wanting to get home and get some sleep. But she felt MacEwan's gaze on her back long after she'd left his presence.

Michael watched her walk away. His heart ached with her pain, yet there was nothing he could do to help her. Nikki had to get over her problems without interference from him. Until she did, there was no hope for them.

Maybe there had never been any hope from the beginning. Maybe he was a fool to ever think otherwise. He'd long ago stepped past the threshold of humanity and become something more. What made him think he could ever go back?

When she walked through the exit, he turned and moved across to Jake. The younger man was still heavily drugged, but otherwise appeared unhurt. He'd hate to think how Nikki would react if he died now, after all she'd been through to save him. Her dependence on him was frightening. Michael grimaced wryly. If he was being at all honest, it also made him jealous. Which was another human emotion he could live without, he thought bitterly. That and love. Several hospital staff came running up, and he stepped away, watching them bustle Jake onto a stretcher. As they took him back downstairs, Michael glanced at the sky. Dawn was beginning to stretch golden fingers through the night. So much had happened, yet so little time had passed. At least Nikki was now safe. Jasper wouldn't attack her with dawn so close. He would be on the run, searching for a place to wait out the day.

Michael turned and walked back to the stairs. It was time to resume his hunt. * * * *

The voice whispered through her brain, its touch evil, full of menace. Nikki twisted and turned, desperate to escape. But there was no running from the demons taunting her dreams. Not even when she awoke.

She sat up on the sofa and studied the living room. Shadows hunched in the corners, but through the window she could see the red and gold tendrils of sunrise spreading across the stormy sky. She glanced at her watch. She'd been asleep for little more than half an hour. Evil whispered around her, shimmering through the air, filling her mind with its malice. Her breath caught in her throat, and sweat broke out across her brow. Jasper was coming for her. She rose quickly. For an instant the room spun, and she grabbed the arm of the sofa, holding on tight. The spinning eased but not the knife-edged pounding in her brain. Jasper was coming, and she was without any form of defense. Panic ran through her, closing her throat and making it difficult to breathe. I can't do it. I can't face him alone. Her gaze fell on her boots. Silver gleamed briefly, firefly-bright in the half-light of morning. But the thought of facing the young vampire with only a silver knife made her mouth go dry. She had no idea if the knives even held enough silver to hurt Jasper. And he could so easily take it from her, without any effort, without any movement. All he had to do was command her to drop it, and she would. Yet she had nothing else. She sat back down and quickly dragged the boots on, tucking the knives close to her shins. Again malice whispered through the silence. She clenched her fists against a wash of hopelessness.

You are mine, and I will prove it. Fighting it is useless. Maybe it was. Maybe she should just give up. She bit her lip at the thought. She could have given up thirteen years ago, when her parents had died, but she hadn't. She could have done it when Tommy died. Maybe part of her had, and that was why she couldn't trust herself to simply love Michael and let the future take care of itself.

But she sure as hell wasn't going to give up against Jasper. Maybe he was right, maybe it was futile, but she had to try.

His laughter slipped around her, as cold as ice. She resisted the temptation to flee. Jasper would find her, no matter where she ran, no matter where she hid. The link between them was strong, stronger perhaps than the link she shared with Michael. She closed her eyes and tentatively tried to reach out to him. Pain lanced through her brain, and she gasped, blinking back tears. In saving Jake, have I destroyed that part of myself?

And did it matter? Jake was alive, and in the end, his survival meant more than the gifts that had caused so much trouble in her life.

She waited. There was nothing else she could do.

Open the door...

The command washed across the silence, threatening yet enticing. The urge to do as he asked stormed through her. Clenching her fist, she rose and backed away. Jasper was just beyond the front door. She could feel his heat, the sense of depravity that was his essence. Hope flared slightly. If she could feel that, then her psychic senses weren't as dead as she feared. Her head might pound every time she moved, yet maybe, if she pushed hard enough, she might be able to defend herself.

Do not ignore me. Open the door.

No. Never. She reached down and slid one of the silver knives from her boot. Power swept around her, black wings that beat against her resistance. Where was Michael? Why wasn't he here to stop Jasper?

I have arranged a diversion for your lover. He will not arrive in time to help you. Nikki closed her eyes and tried to ignore his mocking confidence. Jasper couldn't harm her unless she allowed him in her house. She had to keep resisting.

The zombies will delay him. By the time he realizes his mistake, I will have you. Again hope stirred. The zombies were dead. So where the hell was Michael?

The trail is long and twisted.

His amusement slithered around her. She shivered. The only thing twisted around here was Jasper's mind. I will never be yours .

You are mine already, sweet thing. Shall I prove it to you?

She made no reply and backed further across the room, the knife clenched so hard in her hand her fingers were going numb. Power washed through the room, a psychic beam that wrapped around her like a chain, heavy and cold.

Open the door.

"No!” she screamed. Yet her whole body trembled, muscle fighting muscle, the urge to obey battling the will to fight.

The chains drew tighter. Cold sweat ran down her back. She wouldn't give in, she wouldn't... He laughed. The sound stung her heart.

You have no choice. Open the door, pretty one.

Power whipped around her, beating at her resistance, searing her senses. She fought the urge to obey with every ounce of strength she had.

To no avail.

One foot slipped forward, then the other. She screamed in terror as she was slowly forced towards the door.

The warehouse was gutted, a blackened shell that stood out starkly against the morning twilight. Michael made his way past the fire engine, and moved on, following the trail along the docks. Jasper's scent was faint. He studied the street ahead uneasily. Something didn't feel right. The trail led past a series of well-lit factories. There was no hiding spot here for Jasper, no hope that he could find an easy feed. The area was too full of people and light. So why had he come here? Why did he meander, when there was so little of the night left? If Jasper intended to feed, he should have done it quickly, then moved on to find shelter and wait out the day.

But he'd been away an hour, and that was a long time when you could move as fast as the wind. Michael frowned and studied the lights ahead. The trail was beginning to take him eastward, into an area of Lyndhurst he did not know. An area on the opposite side of town to Nikki. Michael stopped cold. Nikki . Revenge, it all centered around revenge, she'd said. And she was right. Jasper didn't meander. He'd played him for a fool. God, what a fool! He turned and ran back through the darkness, the night a blur and fear beating through his heart.

All he could do was hope he wasn't too late.

"Come in.” The words were forced through gritted teeth.

Tears rolled unhindered down her cheeks as Jasper walked in, angelic and smiling. Their gazes touched, and her heart quailed. Once his eyes had been dead, showing little emotion; now they were consumed by madness. He was over the edge and out of control—but totally in control of her. Jasper walked into the living room and sat casually on the sofa. The leash loosened—but not enough to allow her to run through the door and freedom. Instead, she backed away from the door, backed away from him. She still held the knife—she might yet have the chance to use it.

"Drop it,” he said quietly.

She clenched her fingers around the hilt. The silver burned into her hand, a clean fire that fought the dark chains wrapping tightly around her.

"No. Take it from me if you dare."

He smiled in amusement and locked his hands behind his head, leaning back to study her.

"You think I'm afraid of the toothpick you hold?"

She didn't think anything. She only knew it was important to keep him talking. Michael was out there somewhere. Even though the pain in her head stopped her from contacting him, surely he'd realize something was wrong. He had at the hospital. Sooner or later, he would come to her. He'd promised to keep her safe against Jasper. He'd keep that promise, no matter what. Jasper raised a hand. Power pulsed through the silence, a fiery tendril that wrapped around her. She clenched her teeth, gathering her own energy despite the bitter ache in her head. Jasper laughed, flicking his fingers outwards. Nikki yelped as she was lifted off the ground and flung across the room. She crashed against the wall and slithered to the floor. For a moment, she lay there, struggling to breathe against the fear locking her throat. She'd never beat Jasper. Not in a million years. He was as strong as Michael when it came to mind gifts. Maybe even stronger. But she had to try. Or die.

She dragged her arm close to her chest and hugged the knife tightly. The cold metal burned into her skin, fighting the darkness, giving her strength.

"That ... that the best you can do?” she said, when she could. He laughed lightly. “So much courage."

Power surged again. This time, she met his thrust with her own, shoving his lance aside before rushing on, pushing him to his feet—pushing him back, towards the gathering dawn. For an instant she saw fear in his eyes and knew in that moment that Michael was right. Jasper was afraid of her powers. But fire ran through her brain, and her head felt ready to explode. She couldn't hold on ... couldn't... The psychic energy slipped away. She gasped and hugged her body. Tears fell onto her arm as she rocked back and forth, desperate to shake the pain locking her mind. Desperate to ignore the laughter surrounding her, tightening the dark chains once more.

"Drop the knife."

She clenched the knife tighter, eyes closed, huddled in upon herself. Warmth spread through her hands and chest, a lone fire in the darkness surrounding her.

He took a step forward. “Release it."

The black wings of energy beat against her. Her fingers twitched in reply, and his elation grew. Still she made no move.

He took several more steps. Energy lashed at her. She quivered under the blows, but refused to move, refused to answer the growing need to obey.

Another step. The heat of his body washed over her, burning the bare skin along her arms. Her muscles twitched in agony, but she ignored it, concentrating on Jasper. Just a few more steps, she pleaded silently, just a few steps closer . As if drawn by her plea, he moved. Nikki unfolded, thrusting up in a fluid movement, ramming the silver knife into his stomach.

Jasper screamed and lashed out, smashing his fist across her face. She slid across the floor and landed in a heap near the kitchen door. Gasping for breath, she shook her head, trying to clear it of the pain falling in a red haze around her eyes. Or was it blood?

Jasper hissed. She glanced up quickly. The force of his gaze made her cringe back. Jasper was through playing games. The time for death had come.

She scrambled to her feet. He took the knife in two hands and drew it slowly from his abdomen. Small tendrils of silver fire licked against his fingers, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. He showed no sign of pain, his eyes blazing murder.

"You will die for this,” he hissed, holding the knife up in his fist. “Come to me, now!" Sharp probes of energy lashed at her, knocking her back to the floor, filling her body with fire. It burned through every fiber, every muscle, quick, deadly and powerful . God I should crawl to him, beg his forgiveness...