Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

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."