Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

"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."