"If you intend coming with us, you'd better get some rest. Jake was right. As you are, you'll slow us down."
Her eyebrows rose in surprise, and he smiled grimly. “I don't intend to argue the point any more. If you wish to commit suicide, who am I to stop you?"
Anger glinted in her eyes, but she made no comment. She quickly drank the rest of her soup, then turned and stalked into the bedroom. He followed and leaned against the door frame, trying to ignore the slim line of her legs as she climbed into bed.
"Do you need anything?” he asked. Their thoughts touched briefly, and passion caressed his mind. He tensed and quickly broke the contact.
She sighed. “No."
"Call me if you do. I'll be resting on the sofa.” He ran his fingers through his hair and turned away, moving quickly to the sofa. But he knew he wouldn't sleep. Not after the fire of her touch.
Chapter Eleven
"Nikki, wake up."
The soft words speared the madness. She shuddered and fought the dark layers clinging to her mind, desperate to reach the safety of Michael's voice.
"Nikki, let it go. Break the connection."
Warm hands touched her face, caressed her cheek. The demons of madness laughed rabidly, but retreated.
"Nikki?"
She opened her eyes, studying Michael for a heartbeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes full of compassion and a certain amount of wariness.
"Hold me,” she whispered, pushing the blankets aside and struggling upright. “Please, just hold me." He drew her into his arms. She leaned a cheek against the bare warmth of his chest, allowing the heat of his touch to chase the chill away. Allowed the tender caress of his thoughts to chase the last strands of darkness from her mind.
"You have to fight him, Nikki."
"How?” Her voice cracked slightly, and she bit her lip. But how could she fight Jasper when she'd never been able to fight Tommy? Jasper's evil was far more intense than Tommy's ever had been. But she'd survived Tommy, and she'd survived three nights of Jasper's insanity. She'd survive this—any way she could.
Michael held her silently, the rock to which she clung in the ever-turbulent currents of her life. Gradually, almost unwillingly, she became aware of his scent, musky yet fresh; aware of the slight tension in the arms that held her so gently. She could hear his heart pounding as erratically as her own. She lifted her head and met his gaze. His smile made her heart do an odd little somersault. He gently touched her cheek, then ran his fingers down to her lips. “Not making love to you is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.">Images filled her—visions hot with lust and violence. Her pulse quickened, as if stirred, and she blanched, feeling sick. Lord, why was this happening? What had he done to her?
You will beg me, pretty one. As Monica begged me.
He wanted her to hunt the night with him, become a slave to darkness and death and uncontrollable blood lust. Revulsion turned her stomach. I will never walk with you. Yet she could hear the uncertainty in her own assertion. Jasper was Tommy, only a hundred times stronger. If he gained control of her mind, she would never know her wish from his. Never is a long time in my world. And I grow tired of Monica. His laughter echoed through her mind. She clenched her fists, battling the urge to run as far as she could from the madman below. He was only toying with her, testing her nerve, her strength. And it took all the strength she had to remain still, to ignore his taunting whispers, and stare at him in silence.
* * * *
Michael took the stairs two at a time, making no effort to keep quiet. Jasper had made little effort to conceal himself, and he would know that Nikki had called. Just as he knew the three zombies stationed around the hotel would move in on Nikki if he went after Jasper. He reached the third floor and ran down the corridor, only slowing when he approached his room. Even from this distance, he could feel her distress. Yet she resisted Jasper's call, and that was more than he had truly expected. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. Psychic energy danced around him, though he doubted if she was truly aware of his presence. She was using everything she had to resist Jasper. He clenched his fingers and stopped, taking a deep, calming breath. Now was not the time to run downstairs and commit murder. Nikki needed him.
He walked to the bedroom. She stood near the window, still wearing his old black shirt. It hung to her thighs and did little to hide her slender but shapely figure. She had never looked more alluring. Or more frightened.
"Nikki?” he said softly, not wanting to scare her by suddenly appearing by her side. She jumped anyway and turned. “He's here.” Her voice was steady despite the panic he could see in her eyes. “Across the road."
He stopped beside her and slid his hand down her arm, entwining his fingers around hers. The rhythm of her heart was loud and erratic, and her hands were like ice. He drew the other curtain aside and looked out.
Jasper waved at them.
Anger spurted through him. He clamped down on it, hard. “He's an arrogant bastard." She swallowed. “He's calling me, Michael. He wants me to go to him." He was really going to enjoy killing this bastard. “He's only testing, Nikki. And now he knows his leash is not as strong as he had hoped."
But the man below them only teased, and she knew it. He could taste the fear in her thoughts.
"Why don't you go down there after him?"
Because he wants you dead, and the zombies are ready to complete the task should I leave your side. “I wanted to make sure you were all right first."
"Then why not go down now?"