Dancing With The Dead

Chapter Ten

The heavy rumbling of traffic woke her some time later. Nikki shifted slightly, and silk rustled against her skin, bunching near her thigh. A faint scent clung to the material, warm, musty and recognizable. She smiled, wondering how she'd come to be wearing Michael's shirt.

Opening her eyes, she studied the room. The sun peeped brightly behind the curtained window to her left, casting pinpoints of lights across the pale blue walls. Paint peeled from the smoke-stained ceiling above her, and from the small brown dresser next to the bed. It wasn't her room, or her dresser. Her heart skipped several beats. Where was she?

A hand rested lightly on hers, enclosing her fingers in warmth. Michael. She closed her eyes briefly and wished he'd take her in his arms, tell her that it had all been a nightmare, that everything would be all right.

But he didn't move, and maybe that was just as well.

"What time is it?" she asked softly.

"Four in the afternoon."

The weariness in his voice tore at her heart. She turned around, but even such a small movement caused pain to run down her legs. She bit her lip, fighting the sudden sting of tears.

"Gently, Nikki. Your hip and left leg were badly grazed by the car."

He sat in a chair next to the bed, bare feet propped on the mattress. He looked casual, yet there was nothing remotely casual in the way he studied her. In the dark depths of his eyes, she could see all her secrets, all her fears. All that had happened.

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.

"We cannot undo what has been done. You must fight it, Nikki."

"And if I can't?" She rested her cheek lightly against his shoulder and tried to ignore the gentle strength with which he held her. Lord, it felt so right in his arms…

"Then we're all in trouble."

The grimness in his voice made her shiver. Just what would he do if she ever did betray him?

He sighed, a slightly bitter sound that pierced her heart. "When will you realize I would never hurt you?"

"I'm sorry." She bit her lip, regretting her thoughts the minute his arm left her shoulders. His touch fought the demons in her mind, easing the chill forming a tight knot of fear in the pit of her stomach.

He rose and retrieved the tray, placing it over her knees. "Finish the whole bowl. You need to get some nourishment back into your system. Give me a call if you want anything else."

"Why? Where are you going?" She hated the slight edge of panic in her voice, yet the thought of being alone filled her with fear.

"I'll be resting on the couch in the other room. It's been a long three days, I'm afraid."

Had he eaten… ?

"I haven't." His answer was grim. "Do you think it was easy for me, knowing who had you? Imagining what he was doing?"

"I'm sorry." She hesitated, not sure what to say, not sure how to take the touch of pain in his eyes. "I just thought vampires had no choice but to sleep during the day."

"Everyone must sleep, Nikki, even those of us not quite human. Vampires do so during the day because, for the most part, the sun is deadly to us."

She remembered the sun touching Jasper's back, and the red welts it left there. "And feeding?" she asked softly, not really sure if she wanted to know the answer.

"I do not dine on human blood, Nikki. Nor do I need to feed every day, as Jasper and Monica must."

He hesitated, then added in a voice heavy with bitterness. "After three hundred years of existence, you learn to do without many things."

She blinked. Had she heard him right? He was three hundred years old?

"Yes." He sighed, and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "Now eat, and rest. I'll be near if you need me."

He left the room quickly. Frowning, she picked up the spoon, eating the soup without really tasting it.

When she'd finished, she shoved the tray back on the bedside table and settled back down to get some sleep.

Her dreams were filled with fear and madness, haunted by an evil that teased and mocked. She woke to darkness hours later, the silk shirt twisted about her body and damp with sweat. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she stared at the night-held room.

Something about the stillness told her she was alone, and her heart skipped several beats. But that wasn't what she feared. No, there was something else…

Like a siren's song, the call whispered through her mind, urging her into action.

Frightened, yet unable to resist the pull of the call, she threw aside the blankets and rose. Walking unsteadily across the room, she pushed the curtains to one side and stared out.

Darkness held the city in its grip. The clock tower down the street chimed four times, and the street below was silent, empty.

Then the shadows moved.

Jasper. Smiling confidently at her, sure of her response.

Come to me.

Something deep within responded, wanting to do as he asked. She closed her eyes, fighting it, fighting him.

It's too late to fight. You are mine.

Never. I'll kill myself first.

His laughter sang through her soul, filling her with its corruption. Trembling, she crossed her arms and turned from the window. It didn't stop the treacherous whisper begging her to do whatever he wanted.

She took a deep breath, trying to gather her scattered wits. Michael, where are you? I need you.

And if he couldn't hear her silent plea for help? Well, she wasn't helpless, no matter what the demons in her mind might say.

Do not ignore me, pretty one.

She shivered, and battled for calm and the strength to resist as she turned back to the window. Where's Monica?

Hunting us up some breakfast.

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?"

"Because he won't be there. He is just trying to unnerve you, Nikki."

"Well, it's working." She untangled her fingers from his and wrapped her arms around her body. Though he wished he could hold her, give her the comfort she desperately needed, he didn't dare move. Jasper still watched them. "He can't hurt you unless you let him. You have your abilities. Use them to protect yourself."

She had to get past her fear. He couldn't be with her twenty-four hours a day. Besides, the best way to protect her was to kill Jasper. To do that, he had to leave her alone.

She gave him a quick glance, and he wondered if she'd heard the thought. With the link between them growing stronger by the day, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his thoughts to himself.

"He's leaving," she stated quietly.

Michael watched him fade into the darkness, saw the blur of his body heat move quickly up the street.

With dawn only a few hours away, he'd be off to hunt before retreating for the day. No doubt there would be more murders for the Lyndhurst Mail to report to its troubled readership.

He let the curtain fall back into place and turned, drawing her into his arms. She felt so soft and warm against him. He brushed a kiss against the top of her head and held her quietly until her tremors stopped.

"Thank you," she whispered, then pulled away slightly.

Her eyes were bright, but not with fear. He could hear the unsteady pounding of her heart and knew its rhythm matched his own He raised a hand, gently brushing a dark strand of hair away from her cheek. Her skin was silk under his fingers. He traced the outline of her jaw, then lightly brushed her lips with his fingers. He wished he could taste their fullness, but that wouldn't be fair. Not when she was so frightened, and Jasper still ran loose.

"You should rest," he said, watching the sparkle in her amber eyes, watching the heat rise in her cheeks.

God, she was beautiful.

"I want you to stay with me, Michael," she said softly. "I want you to make love to me."

He studied her, seeing the hint of desperation in her eyes, the fear in her thoughts. While he couldn't deny the attraction flaring between them, he knew it had nothing to do with her sudden desire to make love. In any other situation, any other time, he might have taken what she offered, enjoyed her company until the job was done, and then left. As he had with other women in the past. But not with Nikki, and not for the reason he could see in her heart. Somehow, it just didn't seem right for them to make love just to erase Jasper's thoughts from her mind.

But damn, she felt so good…

He bent and kissed her. He'd meant it to be brief, but her lips were soft and sweet under his, and he found himself wanting more. Her hand brushed his cheek as she moved it around his neck, and he closed his eyes, pulling her close, teasing her lips with his tongue. She made a sound that was almost a sigh, then opened her mouth, allowing him to taste her. He moved his hands down her back and cupped her buttocks, holding her softness against him.

He didn't want the moment to end, but knew it had to. No involvement, he reminded himself sharply. Let her go. He kissed her forehead lightly then stepped away.

"I cannot do this, Nikki." Because Seline was right. He was playing with a fire that, once started, he might never want to put out. "It's not the right time or situation."

A slight smile touched her warm lips. "It felt pretty right to me."

It had felt pretty right to him, as well, and that was the problem. "I am a vampire, Nikki. It's a fact that can never be changed. I live in a world of darkness and tread paths no human can ever take." He hesitated, watching her amber eyes darken. "I have made love to many women in my time, but they were little more than fleeting moments of pleasure. There can never be anything more for me. Vampire's cannot love."

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. But it was better she think him incapable of love. It would make things easier when he walked away.

"I'm not asking for anything more than one night, Michael." Her gaze searched his for a moment. "I don't want anything more."

Maybe she didn't, he thought, studying the dark auburn highlights in her hair. But could he hold her in his arms, make love to her, then simply walk away?

"Making love will strengthen the link between us, Nikki," he said softly. "Can you risk that, when you fear the link almost as much as you fear the vampire?"

She glanced up sharply. "I don't fear you."

He smiled grimly. "No. You fear the darkness in me—the vampire. But I am not two beings, and you cannot fear one without fearing the other."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't care about the technicalities, Michael. I just want—" He placed a finger against her lips, quickly silencing her. Someone approached the room. He turned and watched the heat of life approach. After a moment, he relaxed. It was only Jake.

And just in the nick of time, too.

Smiling wryly, he glanced back at Nikki. "Jake's about to knock at the door. He's angry about something."

"How can you tell?" She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, a gesture that spoke of the fear he could see in her thoughts.

"His heart is racing, and fury runs through his thoughts."

"Something's happened."

He entwined his fingers through hers and squeezed them lightly. She smiled, then motioned him towards the door when Jake knocked.

Jake's smile was anything but warm. "Have you heard the news yet?"

"No." It wasn't too hard to guess what had happened, though. He stepped aside, allowing Jake to enter.

"Why?"

"Our vampires are on the loose again. There's been a triple murder in Highgate Park."

"When did this happen?"

"They figure about ten this evening." Jake grimaced and walked into the small kitchen. "But the bodies weren't discovered until two. The cops are still crawling all over the place."

"You've been there?" Nikki said, surprise in her voice.

"No. I asked Mark to let me know if anything like this happened." He glanced across at Michael and added. "Mark's the crime reporter for The Mail ."

Michael nodded. Jasper had been hungry when he'd left the hotel, so these murders had to be Monica's doing. He met Nikki's gaze and saw she was thinking the same thing.

"We have to stop her," she murmured.

He shook his head in exasperation. Did she never learn? Jasper was still out there, and no doubt waiting for such a move.

Her gaze was defiant. "You can't find her without me."

Maybe they could, and maybe they couldn't. It wasn't worth jeopardizing her safety to find out.

"You'll slow us down," Jake commented into the brief silence. "You're a liability, Nik. Trying to protect you might well get us all killed."

"We'll be moving in the daylight—we'll have the advantage, remember?"

"The zombies can still get around during the day," Michael reminded her. "And Jasper has proven he can move at dawn or dusk."

She lifted her chin, though he could hear the unsteady pounding of her pulse. "I'm going. I refuse to let fear rule my life."

Or anything, or anyone, else.He clamped down on a surge of anger and glanced at his watch. "It's past four now. We'll have to give it a few more hours before we move. That way we'll be sure to find them asleep—if we find them."

Jake frowned as he poured some soup into two coffee cups. "And you? Won't you be affected?"

Nikki raised an eyebrow, and Michael smiled. "As long as we avoid the sun between ten and three, I'll be fine."

Jake poured soup into two cups and handed one to Nikki. "I'll be back at eight, then. That way, we'll still have two hours to hunt around. Nice soup, by the way."

Michael walked him to the door. Jake turned the handle, then hesitated. "Don't let her come with us," he said softly.

He raised an eyebrow. "I can't really stop her."

"Find a way. Stop her. I don't care how. Just don't let that madman get his hands on her again."

This from the man who had once told him Nikki could be difficult when it came to getting her to do anything she didn't want to do. He nodded and closed the door, then turned to find her watching him.

Her knuckles were almost white against the cup.

"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.