Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

"I have made a promise to keep you safe,” he said softly. “Though I am a man of my word, I will not stay where I am not wanted. Do you still wish me to accompany you home?" She opened her mouth to say no, then hesitated. Intuition whispered the warning not to let this man go. She needed the protection he offered, yet she couldn't ignore the darkness she sensed was so much a part of him.

Evil far worse waited somewhere in the night.

She shifted her stance and crossed her arms. “If you are a man of your word, will you make me a promise?"

"What do you wish?” His reply was as guarded as his expression.

"Will you vow never to try to take control of my mind or make me do anything against my will?" Something in his stillness spoke of sudden anger. “If you trust me so little,” he said, “then yes, I so vow." There was a sudden distancing between them, though neither of them had moved. It could only be for the best, she told herself firmly. They were still strangers. Until she knew more about him, more about the subtle yet terrifying shifts in his nature, she had to keep distance between them. It was just possible her hero was no true hero after all.

* * * *

Michael walked quietly beside Nikki, all too aware of the tension and confusion churning her thoughts. He felt the same damn way.

Perhaps something within her recognized the darkness in him. Maybe that was why she now wore the small silver cross at her neck. Why she refused to trust him.

But why was her trust suddenly so important? He was here only to find Jasper, nothing more. She was his best, and quickest, means of doing so. Trust surely played no part in any of it. The shadows moved on the other side of the street. Michael glanced across. Only a young couple, strolling hand in hand on their way home. He looked away, studying the street ahead, unsettled by a sudden surge of envy. Just for an instant, he had shared such intimacy, and it had felt good after so many years of loneliness.

Maybe Seline was right. Two days with Nikki, and unwanted wisps of emotion were raising their ugly heads. Something he could well do without, given his job.

He frowned, remembering a whisper he'd caught from her thoughts. Just like Tommy all over again . Had someone in the past tried controlling her?

It was something he was never likely to attempt, and he'd had years to define and strengthen his gifts. Even Jasper would never gain full control over her—not alive, at any rate. Her psychic abilities were far too strong to ever be leashed for long.

Yet she was more terrified of Jasper's attempts to control her than of Jasper himself. Which only made Jasper's task that much easier. He would use her fear against her, use it to beat her into submission, to bend her to his will. Then he would kill her, and she would fully be his. Damn it, there had to be some way to get her to face the demons of her past, so the demon in her present could not get the upper hand.

And just who in hell had appointed him the keeper of her soul?

He sighed and glanced skyward. He didn't want to get involved with Nikki—not on any level. He just wanted to catch a killer, and she was his best method of finding Jasper quickly. He still had every intention of doing that. Only now, he didn't want to see her hurt in the process. And when the time came to tell her he was a vampire? Michael glanced at her. When the time came, he'd walk away. He couldn't change what he was, and she could not live with the darkness. Something told him there'd been far too much of it in her life already.

They continued to walk in silence, and the time slipped by. Her pace increased as they drew close to her home. He felt her anxiety to get inside, to be alone.

He stopped outside as before, scanning the dark windows. There was no hint of Jasper or any of his minions within the immediate area. Maybe she'd be safe for the rest of the night. But just to be certain, he'd stand watch across the road. He'd learned to expect the unexpected—even when it came to someone as predictable as Jasper.

She turned, her gaze meeting his. “Thank you for walking me home." She couldn't hide the anger and confusion evident in her amber gaze. He nodded and resisted the urge to reach out and touch her. Hold her.

Something flickered in her eyes, and she stepped quickly away. Michael frowned. Just how strong was the link she'd created? If she could merge with his mind, however briefly, it was more than possible she could read his thoughts. Maybe he didn't have to tell her he was a vampire. Maybe she already knew. He watched her quick retreat, then turned and made his way across the road.

* * * *

Dawn's light was less than an hour away when he finally stood. The muted spark of life in Nikki's flat told him she slept. It was time to begin his hunt.

The sun was on the verge of rising by the time he arrived back at Trevgard's mansion. He walked through the fast disappearing shadows, carefully avoiding the many police officers still around. Monica was an unseen presence, full of pain and desperate hunger. Obviously, she hadn't yet found the item she would carry through eternity. Michael glanced at his left hand. In his case, it had been a ring. Made for his father by his grandfather, carved from the soft rock that abounded on their farm. It was a reminder of the life he'd willingly forsaken; a reminder of the death he'd unwittingly caused. It had been his father who'd discovered his body, and the discovery had caused a heart attack, leaving his mother to somehow scratch a living on land so poor even grass refused to grow. He'd returned once the blood-rage had left him, hoping to help in some way. But by then, years had passed, and the struggle to survive had all but killed her. His oldest brother, Patrick, had given up on the farm and left in search of work elsewhere, and his four sisters had found themselves husbands and homes of their own. He'd nursed his mother through her final days, and buried her next to his father. And had vowed, at the foot of her grave, never to take another innocent human life.

A vow he had kept to this day.

He stopped near the front porch and leaned against the wall, waiting. Monica would have to leave soon. The sun was on the rise, and the house offered little in the way of protection. It had too many windows, allowed too much sun to stream in. As a newborn, she needed complete darkness during the day. Resistance to sunlight came only with the onset of a century or so. She didn't move until the last possible moment. She walked past quickly, right fist clutching a gold watch. Her father's, by the look of it. Her blue eyes were wild, her mind half-mad with thirst. She didn't sense his nearby presence—caution was the last thing on her mind. So many of the newly turned died within the first couple of days simply because they weren't careful enough. He followed her quick steps through the half-light of morning. If he were lucky, she would lead him straight to her master. Hiding in the middle of a city as big as Lyndhurst still held special problems for the likes of Monica and Jasper. Street people already occupied many of the abandoned factories and houses. The one thing more important to a vampire than a place to wait out the sun was security. Day sleep represented a kind of death, particularly when young in vampire years. You had to be sure you were safe in the hours when you were totally helpless. Neither Jasper nor Monica had the choice of sleeping in motels, as he did. Because of his years and lifestyle, he could wake and protect himself if threatened. The other two could not.

The skies began to brighten. Monica broke into a run, her sudden desperation reaching back to him. Only now that the sun's heat had started to itch her skin did she realize her danger. She swung into a side street, and fled into the darkness of an old warehouse. Michael stopped, following the rest of her retreat with his senses.

As he'd expected, she fled down, not up, into the comforting darkness of the basement. Jasper waited for her there.

Michael clenched his fingers and tried to ignore the desperate urge to rush in and crush his enemy's neck. Jasper wasn't alone. Michael's old foe had gained some cunning during the years since their last encounter. People were already working on the floors above, unaware that a monster lurked below. The zombies were silent sentinels near the basement door.

He had no doubt Jasper had rigged the warehouse to explode should he be attacked. He'd done it before, and killed over one hundred people in the process.

Michael turned and walked away. He'd come back tonight, when the people in the two floors above the basement had gone home, and burn this retreat to the ground.

He glanced skyward, trying to judge the time he had left before he had to make his own retreat. At least a few hours ... whistling tunelessly, he shoved his hands into his pockets and headed back to the stockyards on the outskirts of town.