"So you'd rather sit on your hands doing nothing while this madman runs loose?" He sighed. “No. But I don't want anything to happen to you, either."
"I'll be fine. Really.” She forced her voice to be positive, even though she was far from certain. “I'm walking up Hyde Street now. You want to talk to Mark, then zoom by and pick me up?” She hesitated and glanced at the street sign. “I'll wait near the corner of Ellis."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
She hung up, then sat down on the nearest fence to wait.
* * * *
The scent of evil was distant but powerful. Michael ran swiftly through the darkness, keeping the shadows locked around him. It wasn't Farmer he was following, but rather his fledglings. The scent wasn't evil enough or strong enough to belong to a master vampire. Though why he thought of Farmer as a master when the vampire was obviously a lot younger than he himself, Michael wasn't entirely sure. But only masters could control the minds of other vampires—or a very strong telepath.
Farmer certainly wasn't what he'd term strong when it came to psychic gifts—at least not when compared to Nikki or himself.
So how could one so young become a master?
He wasn't sure. Even he, despite his years and experience, could barely be classed as one. Elizabeth had been a master, though. She'd been comfortable with what she was, comfortably aware of her strengths and weaknesses. Had he wished, he could have taken that knowledge, that skill, from her mind when he'd killed her. It was his right as victor.
And perhaps that was his answer. Perhaps Farmer had killed the vampire who'd turned him and sucked all the knowledge from his mind. But he was still too young in vampire years to process all that information and use it to full advantage.
For which they could be extremely grateful.
He slowed as the scent of evil grew stronger. Night stirred ahead, and the languorous beat of half a dozen hearts filled his ears. He'd found a nest that contained yet another loop. Farmer himself was nowhere near—which wasn't unusual. Fledglings could never be entirely trusted, even those mostly over the initial blood frenzy. It usually took ten to twenty years before true sanity returned—if the turning hadn't made them completely crazy.
He slowed and switched to the infrared of his vampire vision. The vampires were blurs of red heat in the small chamber just ahead. They were all asleep—the sun was high, and vampires this young had no choice but to slumber during the day.
If he killed them, Farmer would know. But if he didn't, these six would kill again and again and again. Their evil stained the very air. There was no goodness left in them—if there had been any in life. He had no choice but to destroy them.
He moved into the chamber and began his bloody task. It didn't take long. Once he'd finished, he carried their bodies to the nearest sewer cover, piling them underneath it. Then he kinetically lifted the cover, stepping back quickly so no stray rays of sunlight caught him. He'd been burned enough for one day. The fledglings flamed instantly, and the smell of burning flesh stung the dank air. He watched until they were nothing more than ash then stepped back into a small chamber to wait. Farmer would have felt them burn. It would be interesting to see if he came to investigate. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the cold brick wall.
Seline?
Here. Her mind voice was decidedly cheerful. You'll never guess what has happened—Jon and Maddie have finally set a wedding date. The invitation just arrived in the mail. They've sent one for you, too.
He raised his eyebrows. I thought Jon had a thing about commitment?
Seline's unladylike snort rattled the mental lines. No. Like you, he feared to make a commitment because he feared his enemies taking revenge on those he loved. I don't fear making commitment. Though, like Jon, he did fear enemies being motivated enough to take revenge on those he loved.
Perhaps not. But you have every intention of compartmentalizing your life. There's nothing wrong with wanting to keep her safe.
Unless it's something that will kill her emotionally. She's not the type to play mother at home, Michael. If she was, I seriously doubt you'd still be together. Her words reminded him of the pain Nikki had revealed at never being able to have kids. He briefly closed his eyes. Seline was wrong about one thing—he could have easily played family man with Nikki. Could imagine nothing better than coming home from a normal day and relaxing with her and their kids. But he'd given up any sense of normality long ago, and there was no point in wishing for what could never be.
I can't risk her working with me, Seline. Couldn't risk losing her. She was his heart, his soul. He couldn't imagine life without her now. Didn't want life without her. It won't work, I'm telling you that now. You can't ever hope to keep Nikki and what you do separate. Nikki is a part of your life because of your work, and you're just going to have to accept the fact that she will forever be a part of it.
He rubbed a hand across his eyes. I didn't open this line of communication to get a tongue lashing, you know.
I know. It's just a bonus.
One I can do without, thank you very much. Especially when he was hearing much the same words from Nikki herself. What did you find out about Billie Farmer?
Not much. He dropped out of sight just after graduation and wasn't seen for a good ten to fifteen years. He was spotted a couple of times in the years since then, but the first reliable sighting we have of him is in Albuquerque two and a half years ago.
Six months before the first killing.
Yes. We're reasonably sure he was turned shortly after he dropped out of sight, because by the time he was spotted in Albuquerque, he was well past the fledgling stage. Don't suppose there's any chance of finding out who turned him?
You know how difficult a task something like that is. We haven't enough researchers to keep those sorts of records.
But you're still keeping records of master vampires?