Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

His eyes are so very ... beautiful.

No! Nikki, look away!

Confusion stirred through the link, and hope soared within him. The more she fought against the net holding her captive, the weaker it would get. But Jasper was more powerful than he'd realized, if the fiend could hold this net in place and still have the strength to attempt the possession of a mind as strong as Nikki's.

Fight him!

The net trembled, weakening with every second. Yet so was she. Psychic energy burned through him, but he held his weapon in check, denying the impulse to assault the net and destroy his enemy. He didn't understand how the net entwined her mind, and if he tried to destroy it, he might destroy her. He didn't want to do that unless it was absolutely necessary. He would just have to wait, and catch her when she came free. If she came free.

Don't give in, Nikki!

Michael?

Her response was stronger this time. Wisps of urgency shimmered across the net, testing its boundaries, its strength.

A desperate surge of energy ran through the lattice of power, yet Jasper was faltering. A small tear appeared in its fabric. More energy flared through the net, but it was no longer enough to hold her. Reaching out, Michael pulled her clear. Her spirit entwined with his for an instant, a gentle yet intense caress that shocked him. Then she was gone, and he was back in his body, left with an odd sense of regret.

He opened his eyes and lowered his hand, gently stroking sweaty strands of dark hair away from her closed eyes. That caress ... It could get them both into trouble. Whether she knew it or not, she'd created a link that would not be easily broken. It could make things awkward, given that he had no intention of doing anything more than using her to capture Jasper.

She opened her eyes and stared at him blankly. Just for an instant, he saw an echo of evil in the smoky amber depths. How far had Jasper succeeded in his mind lock? There was no way to tell, no way to know until his enemy made his next move.

"Michael?"

"You're safe,” he replied softly.

"Need to rest,” she murmured, closing her eyes again.

He wasn't surprised. After what she'd just endured, she should sleep a week.

"How is she? Will she be okay?” the blond stranger asked anxiously. Michael ignored him, focusing instead on the big man near the desk. Frustration, fear and worry were evident in his thoughts, and he was about ready to explode. Slipping into the old man's mind, he ordered him to be silent. Nikki needed attention. He didn't have the time to be involved in a war of words.

"She's fine,” he said, returning his gaze to the blond man. “She just needs to rest."

"We'll put her in the room behind you. By the way,” he said, “I'm Jake Morgan."

"Michael Kelly.” He shook the offered hand impatiently.

"Thought you might be. How long will she be out?"

Michael shrugged. “Minimum, a couple of hours. I shall stay and keep watch over her.” And what better way to start gaining her trust than by being here, guarding her, when she woke?

Jake nodded, not asking the questions Michael could see in his mind. Instead, he rose and crossed the room to speak to the older man.

Michael slipped his arms under her body and carefully lifted. She was light. Too light, really. How in hell did she manage to maintain the energy needed to feed her psychic gifts when there was so little of her?

He took her into the next room and laid her carefully on the old couch that dominated one wall of the small storeroom. She stirred and opened her eyes.

"Don't leave me,” she murmured.

Her gaze was filled with shadows and fear. He smiled and sat beside her. She shifted slightly, using his leg as a pillow. Closing his eyes, Michael carefully reached into her mind, calming the surface turmoil, stilling her fears—at least enough to allow her to sleep peacefully for several hours. That he could do this without her knowing spoke of her desperate need for rest.

He opened his eyes and gazed at her. She looked so young lying there, almost childlike. Yet he'd caught the occasional whisper of thought that spoke of a harsh past. He caressed her forehead, her skin like satin against his fingertips. Though he knew he could not afford to get more involved than he was, he found himself wishing again that he had the time to learn more about her. But that was a freedom he'd lost long ago, and it was too late now for regrets.

* * * *

Darkness drifted through her dreams. It filled her mind, washing corruption through her soul. She fought it, desperate to be free. Yet she couldn't break the chains holding her captive. In the distance she heard a voice whisper her name. She turned toward the sound, following it desperately through the darkness.

Awareness surfaced. A door slammed in the front office. Trevgard, Nikki thought, and knew by the sudden leap of tension in the main office that both his patience and his temper were growing thin. She also became aware of Michael, of the firmness of his thigh against her cheek, the gentleness of his fingers caressing her forehead. Of his scent, an odd mixture of spice and earthiness. Much too aware.