He wove his way through the network of noisy machines and air conditioning units and approached the far wall. The body he could see was behind it.
Nikki stopped in front of the wall and pressed her right hand against the plaster. “It's not solid,” she murmured. “And it holds back death."
He glanced at her quickly. Her expression was as distant as her thoughts, and unease slithered through him. Was this yet another mutation of her psychometry talent? When he'd shared his life force and made her as immortal as he, had he somehow altered her psychic essence? Even now he wasn't sure, and neither he nor Seline had been able to find much in the old texts about thralls—other than one warning that stated it was better not to turn those with psychic talents. It didn't say why, which was damned frustrating. Seline was still looking, but he had a horrible feeling they'd better hasten the search. It wasn't just her talents mutating. There were signs of other changes too—like her night sight.
"Sure looks solid,” Jake said into the silence. He slapped the wall, then frowned and stepped back, running the light across the ceiling and down to the machines behind them. “You know, I thought there was more of a gap between the wall and this unit."
"Maybe there once was—there's another wall behind this one,” Michael commented, his attention still on Nikki. She was moving away, her fingers trailing across the wall, as if feeling for something. “There is a gap of about four feet separating them."
Jake frowned. “Why would anyone want to build a false wall like this?"
"Maybe someone who wants to conceal a hidden entrance." Nikki stopped near the end of the wall, and energy stirred, tingling briefly across his skin.
"Here,” she murmured. “There's an entrance here."
Jake flashed his light across the plaster. “Nik, that wall is as solid as the rest of it." Michael probed the wall with his fingers and found a hairline crack in the plaster, one that extended ceiling to floor. He moved around Nikki and found another four feet along. Looked up. There was a minute gap between the ceiling and the wall, barely noticeable and yet telling. As was the metal rod he could see in the middle of the plaster, thrusting from the ceiling into the floor.
"She's right. It's a doorway of some kind.” He pressed the wall near the crack. He could see the catch—it was just a matter of finding the right way to spring it. Nikki blinked and for a second looked like a dreamer just awakening from a dream. “The entrance is on this side, the exit your side.” She reached up on tippy-toes and pressed her palm against the wall. The whole wall rotated aside, revealing a two-foot gap.
The air that rushed out was thick with age and death. Nikki shuddered, her face white. “There's a body in there somewhere."
He caught her fingers, squeezing them in gentle reassurance. “Yes. Do you wish to remain here while I check it out?"
Her gaze flashed to his. “I think you already know the answer to that." He smiled grimly and tugged her forward. “Then prepare for the worst. It will not be a pretty sight. This one has been dead for a while."
"How can you tell?” Jake asked as he followed them in. The beam of his flashlight danced across the darkness, crisscrossing Nikki's and creating crazy patterns on the cobwebbed brick walls.
"I am a vampire, remember. I saw the body long before you were able to smell it." "Even through the walls?"
"Yes."
"Damn—"
Jake's voice died as the beam of the flashlights centered on a huddled, shapeless form at the far end of the small gap. Beside it, there was a hole that led into a deeper darkness. Nikki stopped abruptly, as did Jake.
"Someone's been feasting on the poor fellow,” she said, voice holding a slight tremor. Her revulsion seemed to curl through the link, a wave of horror that stirred his senses, even though death and he were old companions.
"Probably rats coming up from the sewer,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it. He squatted beside the body. It was a male, and what remained of his clothes indicated he was a guard of some kind—probably hotel security. If the state of decay was anything to go by, he'd been dead a good two months, if not more—though it was hard to be certain because damp conditions like this often hastened decomposition.
"Has the hotel had any personnel go missing of late?” he asked, examining the corpse's neck and arms.
"Not since I've been here,” Jake said. “But I've only been here a month. It could have happened earlier."
"Can you check the files? Ask around?"
"Yep.” Jake hesitated. “Was he killed by vampires?"
"Yes.” Given the extent and manner of his injuries, it was undoubtedly fledglings who'd attacked him. No vampire who'd been on this earth any length of time was this messy. Or this careless. Leaving a body here like this was nothing short of stupidity—unless, of course, they didn't intend to hang around all that long.
The vampire who attacked me was a fledgling.
He met Nikki's gaze. He saw in her expressive eyes the fear so evident in her thoughts, yet he knew it wasn't fear of the darkness or the body or even the fledglings. It was fear of what awaited them. An evil they couldn't yet see, but whose presence tainted the very air around them. Not that he could feel anything beyond the chill of the stinking air. Whoever was behind the kidnappings was nowhere close; otherwise, he would have been able to sense their presence. The evil he could smell was little more than a psychic overflow from Nikki. Somehow, she was sharing what she sensed with him. He wondered if it was deliberate, or yet another worrying mutation of her abilities. It's a presence that doesn't feel very old, he said.
Jasper wasn't very old, either. Nor was Cordell. She hesitated, rubbing her arms. This feels far worse than either of those.
If the mutilations were anything to go by, then yes, it was. It's not near, Nikki. We're safe for the moment.
For the moment. Her trepidation swam around him, yet it was a fear he knew she would not retreat from. Aloud, she said, “Where does that hole lead?"