Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

"There's no other reasonable explanation."

"A vampire is not what I'd term reasonable. Hell, for all we know, we've got some nut loose who enjoys draining blood from his victims."

Which was an apt enough description of Monica's lover. “So how do you explain Monica walking out of the morgue tonight?"

"I can't.” His expression was determined as it met hers. “But it wasn't caused by vampirism." Nothing she could say would convince him otherwise. He had to see it for himself. “Okay, but we still have to get to Trevgard's."

"Why?"

"She hates her father, Jake. Trevgard was probably the only person in town who didn't know it. I've got a real bad feeling that it's payback time tonight."

"Trevgard's got guards all over the place,” Jake muttered, but threw the car into gear and sped off. She sighed in relief. He might not believe her, but at least he still trusted her instincts. She just had to hope they didn't arrive too late.

"I don't suppose you brought your gun?” Jake said, after a moment. She shook her head. “You know I won't use it. It's locked up at home. Besides, bullets don't kill vampires."

"Might if you blow their freaking’ heads off,” he said, voice grim. “So, where's the boyfriend tonight?"

"Michael's not my boyfriend.” And never likely to be. He held far too many secrets, was too much of a loner. And far, far too much like Tommy.

"If chemistry's anything to go by, he will be. Where is he?" She shrugged. “I don't know."

He wasn't far, though. Somewhere, somehow, he was tracking her, furious because she'd refused to wait.

"Odd that he only turns up at night.” Jake gave her a sardonic look. “He's not a vampire, too, by any chance?"

"Not likely.” Yet the darkness in his soul haunted her, and she couldn't help shivering. It took them ten minutes to get to Trevgard's. Jake turned into the driveway then stopped. Nikki bit her lip and studied the dark gates before them.

"No lights,” Jake commented, peering through the windshield.

"No guard.” She stared at the gatehouse, as dark as the night itself. “I've got a very bad feeling about this."

She wished Jake would just turn around and drive away, before it was too late. But it was her fault Monica was loose. If she had allowed Michael his way last night ... the thought stalled. No, she'd had no option last night, just as she had none now. Jake couldn't go in alone, and the police had no idea what they were up against. Even if she told them, they'd never believe her.

"I guess we'd better check it out,” she said softly.

He nodded. “Gloves on. We don't want the police finding our prints if things have gone bad in there." She dug her spare pair out of the glove compartment. Slipping them on, she slowly climbed out of the car. The gentle purr of the engine had little impact on the blanket of silence holding the night captive. Jake slipped his gun from its holster and held it by his side. She followed, energy crackling around her fingertips, ready to use.

Jake tapped lightly on the glass front of the guard's box. “Anybody home?" No one answered. The wind whistled lightly through the darkness, rattling the branches in the nearby trees. Where the heck was the guard? Had he answered a distress call from Trevgard, and if he had, why weren't the lights on ahead?

Jake nudged her then pointed to the left. She nodded and edged carefully around the small building, every sense alert to the slightest movement. But there was no sign of life, no sign of activity. She found the door. Locked.

After a few seconds, Jake joined her.

"The gate's locked."

"So's this door. Shall we break in?"

"It's either the door or the gates.” He shrugged and met her gaze. “I'm beginning to agree with your very bad feeling. I don't think we can wait for the cops."

She nodded and sent a bolt of kinetic energy at the door. It crashed back on its hinges.

"Handy little trick,” Jake said. “But it would be nice if you could learn to make a little less noise."

"Sorry. It's just nerves.” She shrugged and waved him through first. After all, he had the gun. He stepped through almost tentatively. “I can't see anyone. Let's find some lights and see what's going on."

She lurched forward and grabbed his arm. “Don't. Car lights Monica might ignore if they go no further than the drive. These lights are a different matter."

Yet if Monica really were a vampire, wouldn't she sense their presence anyway? Just how close to reality did the movies come? She released his arm. “I have a flashlight." Though it was little more than palm size, it provided enough light to see why no one made a fuss about them breaking in. The guard was here, all right, but dead.