Dancing with the Devil (Nikki & Michael 1)

She swallowed uneasily, and looked away. “I guess I'm lucky it's only grazed. How did you find me?"

"Followed your thoughts."

If her thoughts were so open to him, why didn't he tell her if Jasper's mind-bending techniques had succeeded or not? “How long was I gone?"

"Three nights."

It had seemed an eternity longer. She shivered and rubbed her wrist. Though the two puncture wounds in her skin had healed, her flesh still burned. “Where are we?"

"My hotel room. It's safer than the hospital, where Jasper could come and go as he pleased." Plus Jasper didn't know where Michael was—but would it really matter now? He could touch her thoughts any time he desired and find out where they were. There wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop him.

"How are you feeling this morning?” Michael's voice was calm as he shifted his feet and rose, but something in the way he moved spoke of violence.

She watched him pour water into a glass. His midnight colored hair was unkempt and in need of a wash, his face etched by deep lines of tiredness. His clothes were disheveled and creased, as if he hadn't slept in days.

She wanted to reach out and caress the tautness from his shoulders, kiss the tension from his lips. Instead, she clenched her fists against the blanket. Was she insane? She wanted to touch a vampire in ways she'd never wanted to touch a man before...

"Michael, why didn't you tell me?” she whispered, ignoring the glass of water he held out to her. The muscles along his arms went taut, momentarily straining against the restriction of his rolled-up sleeves. Then he slowly lowered the glass back to the bedside table.

"I'm sorry, Nikki—” He hesitated and shrugged, momentarily avoiding her gaze. “I never meant for you to find out this way."

"Did you ever plan to tell me?"

Again he hesitated fractionally. “I don't know."

At least he was being honest with her. And if she was being honest with herself, she had never, at any stage, truly feared him. Just the darkness within him, the darkness she now could name. A darkness he could never be free of.

He held out the glass again. Her hand shook as she brought it to her lips. The cool water did little to ease the fire in her throat.

"I would never hurt you, Nikki."

She met his dark gaze and tried to ignore the trembling deep in her soul. By not telling her the truth about himself, he'd only emphasized the fact that he didn't trust her. And that hurt more than anything Jasper could ever do to her.

Michael sat back on the chair, fingers entwined lightly in his lap. “There are things about me that you will never know. It's safer that way—for you, and for me. Just trust me, Nikki."

" Trust you? ” She couldn't help a slightly bitter laugh. “Dear God, Michael, I've trusted you more in the last few days than I've trusted anyone in my entire life!"

"And yet, deep down, you still fear me.” His gaze met hers, reached deep into her soul. “I have never lied to you, Nikki—"

"No.” Her voice was terse. “You just ask me to do what you cannot, or feed me half truths when it suits you."

He slapped his hands hard against the arms of the chair and thrust himself upright. “And would it have made any difference if I had?” he asked sharply. “Would the truth have stopped you from entering that tunnel after Monica?"

"No. But it sure as hell hurts that maniac has to tell me what you could not.” She watched him walk through the bedroom doorway into the small kitchen. “There's more you're not telling me, isn't there?

You're not in this alone, are you?'

He glanced around, one eyebrow raised. “No, I'm not. But they're not important, not at the moment." He lied, and it hurt. Why wouldn't he trust her? Did he fear Jasper's influence, or was there something more? “Yeah. Like you being a vampire wasn't important?"

"No, not like that.” He slammed a cupboard door closed. “Are you hungry?" Her stomach rolled at the thought of food. Considering how little she'd eaten during the last few days, she should have been famished. She wasn't. “As long as it's something easy."

"I have soup simmering."

She nodded and closed her eyes, suddenly confused. How much did her need to fight with Michael come from Jasper's games? Would she end up betraying Michael, no matter how hard she tried not to?

"The mere fact you ask yourself those questions suggests his plan hasn't entirely worked." He walked back into the room and placed a steaming tray on the bedside table. She ignored it and sat up. “He had me for three nights, Michael. He might still have my mind. What happens if I do betray you?"

"We'll deal with it if and when it happens.” He sat on the bed beside her and placed an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, savoring the warmth of his body.