Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

Nikki handed Jake the light and shoved her hands in her pockets to hide their sudden shaking.

"If this is Monica's handiwork, she's one angry teenager,” he said, kneeling next to the body. He pointed the light towards the guard's neck—or what remained of it. She swallowed and turned away.

"There's not enough blood,” Jake muttered. “With a wound this bad, there should be more blood." Sweat broke out across her brow. “Monica's a vampire, remember."

"Or completely over the edge.” He rose, face ashen. “We'd better move if we want to stop her. She can't be too far ahead of us."

She retreated out the door, studying the still darkness. Jake pressed one of the buttons in front of the guard's chair, and the huge gates silently opened. Hell, making them welcome. And if the guard was any indication, the mansion had indeed become hell for its occupants. They climbed back into the Mercedes and drove on without the headlights. The night closed in around them, oppressive and still.

Through the trees, yellow light winked, starlike, from one window on the upper floor. The rest of the mansion was dark.

"Trevgard's butler has his quarters at the far end,” she commented. “Should we check that first?" "After what she did to the guard, I'd say yes. She's obviously not being selective tonight.” He stopped the car and gave her a grim look. “I'm calling the cops, too."

"Good.” After discovering the guard, they had no real choice. She climbed out. Nothing moved. The night was still, and the air held the promise of rain. Her psychic senses could find no trace of life, not even in the butler's section. If Trevgard was here, he no longer lived.

"He's not here,” a soft voice behind her said. “And two servant's lie dead inside that house." Nikki jumped violently and swung around. Michael stood two feet away, arms crossed as he stared at her.

"Why didn't you wait, as I asked?” His voice was flat, devoid of the anger she could feel in his thoughts and all the more frightening because of it.

"This is my fault, and my problem to deal with.” She watched him uneasily. The darkness shifted in his eyes, becoming stronger. Just how different was he from the man he chased?

Jake approached, and Nikki was suddenly glad he was there. Though she doubted he'd be much protection should Michael attack.

"Michael,” he said, surprise edging his voice. “Glad you could join us." He stopped next to her, close enough for their shoulders to rub. Nikki wondered if he could sense her uncertainty about Michael.

"I got here as soon as I could. But not soon enough, I fear." Jake barely glanced at the house. “It would be nice to know if Monica's inside or not." Michael's face was expressionless. “She's not here at the moment. I would sense her." Jake raised an eyebrow. “How?"

"Nikki's not the only one with psychic abilities."

"Really? And do these said abilities make you move faster than a car? Because you certainly didn't arrive in one."

"No, I didn't.” Michael's voice held an edge of annoyance. “Nor do I fly. We waste time, here. Monica's killing spree has only just begun. We have to stop her."

Nikki pushed the hair out of her eyes. “To stop her we have to find her. Unless you have some means of tracking her, I have to get inside that house and grab something of hers."

"I can trace her, to a certain extent.” Michael hesitated, then frowned. “If you enter the house, she'll know. It's home ground, the place she lived most of her life. She's still connected to it."

"Another one who believes in vampires,” Jake muttered.

Nikki ignored him. “Is it true a vampire can't cross a threshold uninvited?" Michael nodded. “Yes, but the rule doesn't work when it's your own threshold."

"Oh."

She glanced uneasily at the mansion. Monica had to be stopped before she could kill again. If she wasn't here, they had to find her. Which meant she had to go in and steal something still holding the teenager's psyche. She doubted Trevgard would actually lend them another bracelet. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets and glanced at Jake. “Let's get this over with." They walked to the far end of the house. Jake climbed the steps and approached the side door cautiously. Something flickered through her mind, a specter of darkness, of death. She studied the brightly-lit windows above them.

The servants haven't been dead long.

Surprised, she looked at Michael. How can you tell something like that?

I can smell the blood.

His eyes were icy pools that somehow intensified, washing darkness through her mind. Dizzy, she reached out, catching his arm. A shock of electricity ran through her fingers, and a haze filled her vision. Suddenly, their minds merged, for an instant becoming one. She could see the bodies in the room above, feel the cooling heat of their flesh, could almost taste the sweet dark pools of blood—her stomach rose. She blanched, shuddering.

Michael shattered the contact between them. She staggered away from him, one hand held to her throat. Dear God, what sort of talent was that?

"Don't ever do that again, Nikki.” His voice was gentle, but there was both surprise and anger in his expression. “It's far too dangerous for you."

He didn't explain how it had happened or why it was dangerous, and she didn't dare ask. Something told her she might not like the answers.