Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

He continued on. The threadbare carpet did little to muffle his steps, and the floorboards creaked under his weight. At least Jasper, or anyone else, for that matter, couldn't sneak up on him. He opened the door to his room and quickly looked around. Everything was as he had left it. Retrieving the bottle of wine he'd placed in the small refrigerator earlier, he found a corkscrew and glass, then moved back to the center of the room. Sitting cross-legged on the carpet, he relaxed his mind. Contact was instant.

You arrived safely.

The harsh whisper winged into his mind and made him wince. Would Seline never realize the power of her mind voice?

Yesterday. He absently opened the wine and poured himself a glass. The situation as bad as we thought?

Michael tried to remember a time when the situation was actually better than they'd thought. He's up to his old tricks again.

Not good. Do you need help?

Images of Jasper and his teenage lover ran through Michael's mind, as did the twisted images of the two remaining zombies. Four deadly beings against one. Michael grimaced. If he'd been a betting man, he knew whom he'd place his money on. And if Jasper called any more of the dead to life... Even if I did, dare we risk anyone else's life? Jasper's killed two of our number already, and knows I'm in Lyndhurst. He' ll be watching for backup. He heard Seline's sharp intake of breath. Concern ran like wildfire through the link. You will never find him. He may even leave.

This battle has been brewing for a long time, Seline. He won't leave. How will you find him? Lyndhurst is a big town.

Michael smiled grimly. It was big all right. But Jasper wouldn't run. Or hide. The game was over. This time the battle would be final. The prize would be life—or death—for one of them. I have bait.

Oh? Who?

He had a sudden image of Nikki's eyes—they were such an unusual color—a warm, smoky amber that seemed to reflect the intensity of her emotions.

Nikki James. She's a private investigator following Jasper's current girlfriend. She's a strong psychic— very strong, in fact.

And Jasper craves power. He will kill, then retrieve her.

Anger rose at the thought of Nikki as one of Jasper's lumbering creatures. And yet, he had to acknowledge the image as one possible outcome. Nor would it stop him from using her as bait. He took of quick gulp of wine. I'm going to befriend her. Hopefully, Jasper will turn up pretty quickly, and I can get rid of him before he kills again.

Take care, Michael. You're playing with fire on this one.

Michael frowned. He had an odd feeling Seline knew more about the situation, or at least about Nikki, than she was letting on. But he also knew there was no point in questioning the old witch. She'd tell him what she thought he needed to know and nothing more. There was little more to add, so he bid her good night and broke the contact. Yawning, he stretched his legs, trying to relax the tension cramping his muscles.

Picking up his glass, he rose and walked across to the window. The blinds were open, and the pale light of the rising dawn streamed in through glass. Michael leaned a shoulder against the window frame and sipped slowly at the wine.

The sun had killed many of his kind, and it was a pleasure he'd long thought lost to him. Only time had taught him otherwise. He lifted his glass to the dawn's light and watched it reflect through the pale amber liquid. Wine was another pleasure he'd thought lost. He'd been told he could only survive by taking the life of others—that anything else would kill him. More lies. His changed metabolism might mean he could consume no food, but it didn't prevent him from taking fluids. Wine would never sustain him, but it couldn't kill him, either.

He took another sip and wondered what had happened to the woman who had turned him. Dublin in the 17th century had been an unforgiving place, and he'd fallen under Elizabeth's spell so very easily. Perhaps he'd just been desperate to escape the emptiness of his existence—even now, he wasn't entirely sure. He had a sudden vision of Nikki, her delicate features and smoky amber eyes, surrounded by a halo of dark hair. In very many ways, she reminded him of Elizabeth.

The sun's light grew stronger. He swallowed the remaining wine in one swift gulp and closed the curtains. As much as he would have liked to watch the flags of dawn color the sky, he had to sleep. There was much to do when night next fell.

* * * *

Nikki drove her old car into the first available parking space near the office. Climbing out was difficult; every battered muscle protested fiercely against movement. Taking a deep breath, she leaned against the car for a moment, waiting for the various aches to subside. The painkillers the doctors had given her were about as useful as a sun hat in a thunderstorm. What she really needed was a nice hot bath and some sleep—nothing too long, just three or four days. She grimaced and turned. Yeah right, that was likely to happen.

A long, white limousine dominated several parking spots out front of the single story building that housed the agency. Monica's father. She grimaced. Just what she needed to finish the perfect evening. The cool breeze ran around her, rich with aromas from the bakery down the road. She took a deep breath, then sighed in pleasure. Fresh, hot donuts. Was there a better smell on this earth, other than chocolate?

Maybe it was just what she needed. And if nothing else, it would delay the confrontation with Trevgard a good ten minutes.

Besides, she hadn't yet decided what she was going to tell the old fart. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she headed off to the bakery and ordered half a dozen donuts. No doubt Jake would need some form of sweetening if he'd been entertaining Trevgard for any length of time. Energy boost ready, she finally walked back to the agency.

"Where the hell is my daughter?"

Trevgard's demand hit her the moment she opened the door. His fury hit a second later, as breathtaking as a punch in the gut. Yet behind the bluster, she sensed concern. Trevgard might look and act like an ogre, but right now, he was a man very worried about his daughter. She shrugged and slammed the door shut. “I don't know.” Though it was an honest enough answer, it was one Trevgard was not likely to appreciate.

"Why not? I'm paying this agency damn good money to keep tabs on her."

"Now, John, relax.” Jake's voice was at it mildest. A sure sign he'd reached the end of his tether. “Rest assured that we want to find Monica as quickly as you do. Just give Nikki a chance to explain what happened last night."

She dropped the donut box on her desk and walked across to the counter that held the percolator. “For a start,” she said, pouring herself a coffee into a mug that had seen better days, “I did find her. She wants be left alone."