Dancing With The Dead

Chapter Sixteen

Michael?

The harsh whisper ran through his mind. He closed his eyes and leaned back in the armchair. He didn't feel like talking to anyone right now, particularly Seline. Yet she was the one person who might understand. He sighed and silently acknowledged her probe.

Michael, what have you done?

He smiled grimly. What had he done? Even now, he wasn't entirely sure. He'd risked his life and cheated death, but until Nikki regained consciousness, he wouldn't know if it were all worth it. There could be aftereffects, either from her drowning or his own intervention. There was a very real possibility he might have destroyed the fire he was trying to save.

He raised the beer, taking a long drink. It didn't ease the burning in his throat.

Michael?

Worry shot through Seline's mental tones. He sighed again. She'd be out to Lyndhurst in a flash if he didn't start answering. The last thing he needed was a face-to-face confrontation with the old witch.

Here.

Michael, what on earth have you done? Half the circle has had visions of you in trouble.

And it was unusual enough for Seline to worry. No doubt his ice cool reputation had been shot all to hell, as well.

I think I've fallen in love, Seline.

Heavens, boy, I knew that ages ago. Just answer the question, or I'll come over in person and box your ears.

The threat made him smile, as she no doubt intended. Seline barely reached his shoulders, and was a thin, frail-looking woman. But she didn't look the one hundred and eighty years Michael knew her to be, and she certainly didn't act it.

We've known each other a long time, Michael. I thought trust was part of what we shared.

Trust wasn't his problem. Would she understand the sheer desperation that had made him act as he had?

Would she accept his need to break a vow? Understand that he might lose Nikki anyway, because of his actions?

She was dying, Seline. I shared my psyche with her.

Made her live, against her will. He closed his eyes and took another long gulp of beer.

The sudden tension down the mental lines told him Seline understood the risk he'd taken.

Dear heavens, Michael, are you all right?

Exhausted. Weak. But alive.Obviously.

Can you cope with Jasper? Will you have the strength?

I'll cope.And Jasper would pay for every ounce of pain he'd put Nikki through.

Is she… all right?

Michael opened his eyes and studied Nikki's still features. She lay unmoving on the bed, her skin almost translucent, as if still held by the specter of death. He couldn't reach her mind, couldn't open the link between them, and it worried him.

I don't know.

How did all this happen?

Jasper set a trap, using Nikki's boss as bait.

That Jake still lived was a miracle. With the injuries he'd sustained, he'd have to be surviving on sheer force of will alone. But such courage deserved respect. Michael hoped the hospital could work a miracle.

Not just for Nikki's sake, but his own. Jake was a rare find in this day and age—someone who looked beyond fear, beyond humanity, to see the person that lay beneath.

Do you need a hand? Gail's available.

I'll handle it.

But—

I said I'll handle it.

Concern ran down the link. Are you sure? Gail's ready to go.

The bastard's mine!

Her thoughts recoiled from the force of his anger, and he cursed. Lashing out at his friends would help no one, least of all Nikki.

Sorry.

I understand, Michael. Just be careful. You're no good to your Nikki if you make yourself so damn weak you can barely stand.

I know.He took another gulp of beer. What the hell am I going to do once all this is over?

What do you think you should so? What do you want to do?

What he should do and what he wanted to do were two very different things.

They don't have to be, Michael. She's a very resilient young woman. She'd fit nicely into our circle.

And have her share his world of darkness? As much as he ached to do just that, to finally have someone to walk by his side, it wasn't right or fair to ask her to do so. Darkness had been too much a part of her life already.

You should at least give her the opportunity to refuse, Michael.

She doesn't want me in her life. She doesn't want anyone in her life.

Amusement filtered down the line. That sounds terribly familiar. Wonder where I've heard that before?

He smiled. I have to leave her. I have no real choice.

Believe an old witch when she says the future is clouded when it comes to the two of you. There is no clear-cut choice here, no right or wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair. Fat lot of good that advice does me.

Then listen to your heart Michael. It may be buried deep, but I know it's there somewhere. Now get something to eat before you fade into shadow.

She broke the contact. He sighed and finished the rest of his beer. Seline was right. If he couldn't touch Nikki's mind now, after all they'd shared, what hope did Jasper have?

He pushed out of the chair that had been his home for the last thirty-six hours and walked across to the window. The late afternoon light washed through the lace curtains. Even in his weakened state, the sun held no threat.

But fatigue did.

He had to eat, had to regain strength as quickly as he could. When he finally caught Jasper, he had to be fit enough to take him.

The bastard had to pay.

She floated in a soothing sea of darkness, a world without sound, without worry. At peace. Yet something within was restless, needing to be gone from this place.

A voice called, but she turned away, not wanting to confront the pain it represented. The voice would not be ignored. It filled her mind, demanding her return, relentless in its pursuit. Stirred to life, she finally woke and opened her eyes.

She was in her own room. Nikki blinked, confused. How did she get here?

Michael, obviously. Somehow he'd passed the barrier threshold of her home.

Somehow, he'd forced her to live.

She bit her lip and looked around the room. Nothing had changed. But she was alone and had been for some time. Michael was nowhere near—he was several miles away, gaining nourishment from a herd of dairy cows.

She blinked. How could she possibly know that without reaching for the link? What has he done to me?

She clenched her fists and closed her eyes, trying to recall the last moments in the mine. She remembered the golden light and its comforting warmth—remembered Michael's desperate plea. Then something had yanked her back into darkness.

Michael. Breaking his vow.

He'd saved her life, but at what cost? Was she even human anymore?

She threw the covers aside and scrambled out of bed, running across to the window. The sun peeped brightly around the edges of the curtains, and she flung them open, allowing the late afternoon sunshine to wash over her. Better a death like Monica's than life as a vampire.

Nothing happened.

The sunlight caressed her skin, warming but not burning. She leaned her forehead against the windowpane and closed her eyes. So she wasn't a vampire. At least Michael had heeded her wishes in that regard. But how had he saved her? Why did she feel no pain, no aches, after being trapped in the water under rocks and debris? How had he saved her, and at what cost to them both?

Her senses danced with the knowledge of change, yet blurred into confusion when she tried to understand how. And though she needed answers, she didn't want to reach for the link and Michael. A line had been crossed. Nothing would ever be the same—not with her life, and not with Michael.

She opened her eyes, and stared at the traffic running past her window. One thing hadn't changed, at least. He had to leave.

Jasper was still loose. And despite what Michael might say, Jasper's grip on her was growing stronger.

His darkness stained the far corners of her mind, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore.

She turned and made her way into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator door, she was shocked to see it brimming with fresh food.

Make use of it.

Michael's comment came through like an order. A compulsion to obey leapt through her. She gripped the edge of the refrigerator, fighting it. Taking a deep breath, she slammed the door closed and leaned back against the bench.

He only had to make an order, and she wanted to leap up and obey. Why? What had happened in the dark hours lost to her memory? Had Michael succeeded where Jasper had failed?

A sigh of frustration ran through her mind. She tried to shut him out, needing to be alone, needing time to simply think.

Yet she knew time was the one thing they had precious little of.

She made herself a cup of coffee and grabbed an apple from the fruit basket, alternating between the two as she wandered aimlessly around the living room. Waiting—but for what she wasn't sure.

The phone rang shrilly into the silence. Her heart accelerated as she reached for the receiver. She knew who called. Knew why.

"Mary," she said softly, blinking back a sudden rush of tears.

"Nikki, you're awake. I was hoping you might be." Her voice sounded weary, old. "Though the last time I saw you, you looked like death."

She had a sudden vision of Jake, pale and dying, and felt a rush of despair. Don't let me lose him, too.

I couldn't bear it.

"Nikki?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "How's… How's Jake?"

"That's why I'm calling. He's alive, Nikki. It was touch and go for a while, but the doctors think he'll pull through."

She closed her eyes and sent a prayer of thanks to the heavens. Then the rest of Mary's words hit her.

How long had she been out?

Three days.Michael's thought winged lightly into her mind.

I need to be alone, Michael. Please, just leave me be for a while.

At least until she figured out how to get him out of her life—or if she even could, anymore.

"Jake wants to see you, Nikki. He won't settle down until he does," Mary said into the silence.

She glanced across to the window. Twilight was settling in. She had, at best, an hour's light left.

Jasper would be up and about.

She closed her eyes, weighing her fear of him against her need to see Jake. It wasn't even close. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Hanging up the phone, she returned to her bedroom and got dressed. She strapped on her wrist knives, then hesitated, staring at the floor. If she was going to do this, she had better make sure she could protect herself. And that meant getting something that might deter a vampire.

She walked across the room and opened the closet door. Squatting, she dragged out the old cutlery set and took out two knives. They were badly tarnished, but hopefully it wouldn't matter. It was still silver underneath—just how much silver though, she couldn't say. She pushed a knife down each boot, then rose and stamped her feet lightly. The knives might make walking slightly uncomfortable, but she felt better for their presence.

Wait for me.

She ignored Michael's request. Grabbing her coat and car keys, she headed out the door. Jake wanted to see her right now, and that was all that mattered.

The hospital was only a ten-minute drive away, but shadows were crowding the parking lot by the time she stopped the car and climbed out. Jasper wasn't anywhere near, yet something watched her.

Something not quite human.

She shivered. It might have been wiser to wait for Michael, but he was on his way here, anyway. She could feel him getting closer.

She quickly locked the car, then fell in behind a family of four, following them through the parking lot and into the hospital foyer. A nurse directed her to the eighth floor. Mary waited near the elevators.

"He sent me," she explained. "Come on. He won't rest until he sees you."

"Do you know why?" Nikki asked, following the older woman up the corridor.

Mary shook her head. "No. All he tells me is that it's urgent." She shrugged and stopped near a door.

"In you go. I'll wait here."

Nikki gave her a forced smile and stepped into the small, bright room. Jake's broad body was almost lost amongst the machines and tubes surrounding him. She stepped closer, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Nikki." His voice was harsh and forced through thin, pale lips.

"You're looking good, Jake." She didn't care about his ghostlike color, the tubes, or the huge bandage around his neck. He was alive. That was all that mattered, all she cared about.

"Liar." His gaze pinned her, shrewd despite the pain haunting his pale features. "How are you?"

She shrugged. "I'll live."

He reached out and took her hand. His grip was weak, yet oddly reassuring.

"I'm not going to die on you, Nik. I'm far too stubborn to let the likes of Jasper win so easily."

Tear stung her eyes, but she blinked them back. Jake didn't need her tears—it would only make him worry. "I'm glad."

He squeezed her hand. "I just needed you to know. I don't want…" he hesitated, looking uncomfortable.

"Nik, not everyone in your life has to die. Don't be afraid to live because you're so afraid of death. Don't let fear close your heart."

His words cut through her. She stared at him, wondering how he'd known, how he'd guessed.

"I'm no fool, Nikki. I've watched you grow from an untamed urchin to a warm but distant woman. Let someone break the ice, kid. If not Michael, then someone else. You can't go on as you are."

Why not? Why was everyone so intent on changing her life when she was happy?

But am I really?She remembered the long nights of loneliness and wasn't so sure.

Awareness raced like fire across her skin. She knew without looking that Michael had stepped into the room. Still holding Jake's hand, she turned and watched him walk to the opposite side of the bed.

She wondered if it were a deliberate choice. His gaze, when it met hers, was dark, emotionless, and there was a similar stillness in the link. He was keeping his distance as she asked. So why did she feel so uneasy?

"Good to see you're alive," Michael said softly. Though his gaze had turned to Jake, she knew all his attention was on her—waiting, assessing.

She shivered, biting her lip. She didn't want the confrontation she sensed coming. She wasn't ready for it.

How could she be? Her whole life had changed in some unfathomable way, and the man standing so calmly on the opposite side of the bed had worked that change.

"As I was just explaining to Nikki, I'm too bloody stubborn to die." Jake's smile was a pale imitation of its usual self.

His eyes closed. She lightly squeezed his hand, then placed it back on the bed. He needed to rest. And she needed to get out of this hospital.

"We should go," she said softly, glancing at Michael.

He nodded and stepped away from the bed.

"Get the bastard for me, Michael," Jake murmured as they left.

Michael's gaze was bleak as it met hers. "I will."

There was a promise of death in his voice. Nikki gave Mary a brief hug, then followed Michael down the corridor.

"He'll live," Michael commented as they waited for an elevator.

"I know." She glanced at him, studying his still features. "Thank you for not leaving him in the tunnel."

He shrugged. The elevator doors opened, and several people got out. Nikki stepped inside and pressed the lobby button. In silence, they walked out to the car and drove home.

Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point by the time she walked into the kitchen. Michael followed her inside and watched her make coffee. The time for confrontation had come. She feared it, and sensed she wasn't the only one.

Apprehension stole through her heart. She ignored it, finally turning to face him. His body was as shadowed as his thoughts, lost to the darkness filling the kitchen.

"What did you do to me, Michael?"

He didn't answer her right away. She gripped her coffee cup tightly, watching his shadow, waiting.

"I saved your life."

His answer was little more than a whisper across the darkness. She couldn't see him—but did she really need to? All she had to do was reach out and listen to the color of his thoughts…

She shuddered and resisted the temptation. It wasn't natural to be linked so intimately. And the link was stronger now than it ever had been.

"At what cost? Why do I feel so different?"

"You were dying, Nikki. I had to save you."

"And in the process you broke your vow never to make me do something against my will."

He made no answer, a still, silent presence she could feel but not see.

"What did you do?" she repeated, her voice a harsh whisper.

"What I had to do."

"Answer me, damn it! I have the right to know."

"But have you the courage to look beyond it?" A trace of bitterness haunted his words.

She glared at the shadows that hid him so well. He sighed.

"What I have done cannot be undone."

"What can't be undone, Michael? What the hell did you do to me?"

"I gave you part of what I am."

Horror rose anew. Did that mean she was a vampire?

"No, it does not." He moved, though it was something she felt rather than saw. "All I've ever asked of you is trust. I wonder now if you are even capable of it."

His contempt lashed at her. She flinched but made no comment, waiting for him to continue.

"What I did was give you part of my… psyche, part of my strength, part of my life force, I suppose. It gave you life."

And linked us together forever.

She took a step back. Linked for the rest of her life, never to be separated. The one thing she'd been fighting desperately to avoid.

"Not your life. My life."

Her heart skipped several beats. She clenched her fists against the fear pounding through her heart.

"What do you mean?"

"Your life force is linked to mine. As long as I live, you cannot die."

She groped for the edge of the bench, her knees suddenly weak. "Oh God, Michael, you're kidding… right?"

"No. Unless you're beheaded, or have your neck broken, you cannot die." There was no remorse in his voice, only an odd harshness that somehow spoke of pain.

She ignored it. She was immortal? As eternal as the moon and the stars… and Michael?

"I am not immortal, Nikki. You noted that yourself some days ago."

"Damn it, Michael, that's not the point."

"Then what is?" he asked wearily.

"I don't want to spend eternity with a man who lives his life in shadow, a man who could rule my every thought and desire!"

He made no comment, but his anger rolled across the darkness towards her.

Energy burned at her fingertips. She clenched her fists against it. "Could you control me now, if you tried?"

He seemed to hesitate. "I don't know."

She closed her eyes, fighting terror. Michael wasn't Jasper. He wouldn't want to control every aspect of her life. At least not now. But what about one hundred, two hundred years from now? What would happen when he tired of her?

"Questions that mean nothing, because nothing will ever evolve from this. You do not want me in your life, Nikki, and I…?" He hesitated. "…cannot have you in mine."

Cannot, or would not have? Either way, it made little difference. "Then why save me? Why not let me die?"

Again he hesitated. "Had you died in Jasper's trap, he could have raised you as one of the undead. I couldn't have stood that."

She rubbed her arms. What a choice. Life as the undead, or life everlasting. Both had their drawbacks, though in far different ways. "How could you possibly share a life force, Michael? How is something like that even conceivable?"

"I'm not sure of the mechanics of it myself. I only know it is possible when two people are… compatible."

What had he meant to say? She shook her head, not sure if it even really mattered. "Is this the first time you've attempted something like this?"

"Yes." And the last, if the acidity in his voice was anything to go by. "Do you think it was easy, Nikki, to tear part of what I am away to give you life?"

She winced at his anger. She wasn't a complete fool. Life was a miracle she surely didn't deserve. She was just trying to understand the ramifications.

"Do all vampires do this?"

He hesitated, and doubt ran through the color of his emotions.

"Very few. There are problems. I know of only one other, and he found himself in need of an… assistant."

"A servant," she corrected tightly.

He sighed. "There were reasons, Nikki, and his friend was very willing."

"Well, at least the friend was given a damn choice!"

A short, sharp movement stirred the air. Light filled the room with brightness, then she was spun around.

His eyes glittered with fury and some deeper, darker emotion she couldn't define.

"What is your problem, Nikki? Why do you refuse to trust me? Why can't you just accept the gift I gave you?"

I can't trust you because I might find I love you. And I don't want you to die."I don't want eternity, Michael. I don't want to live with the fear that one day you will turn on me."

His breath hissed through clenched teeth. "If you think me such a monster, then kill me. Take the knife from your boot and stab it through my heart. It will end my life and revert yours back to normal."

She stared at him, appalled he could think her capable of such a brutal act.

"Why not? You're doing a damn fine job of it as it is. Why not finish it?" His grip on her arms tightened, bruising her. "But maybe you're happier wrapped in a cocoon of ice. Maybe I was a fool to think otherwise."

"Maybe you are," she muttered.

He let her go suddenly and thrust a hand through his hair. "Christ, I don't even know why I'm bothering."

He turned and walked to the other side of the room. It was a distancing that was mental as much as it was physical. And though this was what she had wanted, it still tore at her.

"What are we going to do then?" he asked after a moment. Arms crossed, he leaned against the wall, his face impassive, distant. As cold as when they'd first met.

She studied him. Anger she could cope with. Frustration and bitterness she could understand. But this?

"About what?"

"You and me, Nikki. What else are we talking about?" His voice was lifeless, his thoughts a vast desert.

She met his gaze, uncertain what he wanted from her. He'd stated his intention of leaving so very clearly, and so often, she had no doubt that he would. And yet he obviously needed—or wanted—something from her. "There is no you and me. You said that yourself."

He simply stared at her. She shuffled her feet like some errant child and finally looked away. Because, deep down, she knew. He wanted her to confront what she felt, and that was the one course she could not take. Because she was a coward, and because her love had always signaled death. Vampire or not, he could die.

Better to live a lifetime alone than face the weight of one more death on her conscience.

Only now, it wasn't just one lifetime she had to face, was it?

"I don't know what else you want me to say, Michael."

"And therein lies our problem." He pushed away from the wall. "Perhaps the fault is mine. Perhaps I simply expect too much."

She stared at him. Did he want a lie? How could she admit to loving him when she wasn't sure?

And what good would it do, when he intended to leave anyway?

She blinked back sudden tears. Once she had told such a lie. It had led her and Tommy down a path to destruction. His life had slipped as quickly through her fingers as his blood, and she'd vowed never, ever to again admit to feelings she wasn't sure about.

"I'm not Tommy, Nikki. I'm not your damn parents or anyone else. I'm me. And I just want you to admit the truth, if only to yourself."

I can't. Don't you understand that? I can't!

"Then I truly must go."

She was losing him. Fear squeezed her heart tight, almost suffocating her. Afraid to love him, yet afraid to lose him. What a laugh.

"Perhaps this time is wrong for us," he said, dark eyes gentle. "Perhaps this was a fire always destined to flare brightly and die."

No, she wanted to say, no. But she held the words in check. He has to leave. He can't stay. The statement ran through her mind, over and over, as he turned and walked to the door.

"Don't," she whispered, as he reached out to grab the door handle.

He glanced back at her. "Jasper won't come near you again. I vowed that, and I meant it."

She wasn't afraid of Jasper right now. She was afraid that Michael would walk out the door and she'd never see him again.

Wasn't that what she wanted?

"Bye, Nikki." He turned and left. The door slammed shut behind him, rattling the display case in the living room. A crystal vase rocked and fell to the floor.

The sound of it smashing was the sound of her heart.