Hearts In Darkness

Chapter Twelve

It was close to four by the time she woke. Nikki yawned and stretched, then felt across the bed with one hand. She'd spent the day alone.

Sighing, she got up and grabbed fresh clothes, then headed into the bathroom. The cut on her hand was little more than a pink scar. Even the cut on her head looked half-healed, though the bruise around it was awful—a big, blackish-purple mass stretching from her temple to just above her eye. Not good, when

Michael and she were supposed to be honeymooners. Biting her lip, she studied her reflection for several minutes. It wasn't natural to heal so fast—wasn't human. Ignoring the chill that raced across her skin, she turned on the taps and stepped into the shower.

Once she'd dressed, she walked over to her suitcase and pulled out the two plastic-wrapped items

MacEwan had given her. Even through the plastic, Matthew's watch sent images scattering through her mind. If the strength of these were anything to go by, he was close. She shoved the watch into her shorts pocket, then opened the second bag. The bra belonging to MacEwan's niece felt dead when compared to Matthew's watch. She sat down and closed her eyes, reaching for whatever images the bra might give her. Gradually, they came.

Darkness. Fear. Hunger so fierce it burned through every fiber of her being. Words softly spoken, spinning through the darkness, surrounding her with power, locking her in chains. Heat burning through her body, through her soul. Sadness that rose in a wave, consuming her consciousness…

Nikki dropped the bra into her lap and rubbed her eyes. She had no idea what was happening to

Rachel, but one thing was certain—it wasn't good. The voice that had flowed so powerfully through the darkness was the same voice evident in the images she'd received when she'd touched Ginger's hand. But how were MacEwan's niece and the flame imps connected?

She put the bra back into the plastic and returned it to her suitcase. She couldn't exactly run around the resort holding a bra, so finding Rachel would have to wait until the other guests were asleep.

She grabbed a room key and headed down to the library. Probably a dozen or so people were in the airy room, browsing the shelves or sitting in the overstuffed armchairs reading newspapers. Michael was close to the ceiling-high windows, nose deep in a book. Given it was well after three, the fading rays of sunlight did little more than glimmer off his damp, dark hair.

She knelt next to him, resting her elbows on one arm of the chair. "You've changed."

The black shirt he now wore clung to his body and seemed to emphasize the lean strength of his shoulders and forearms. She resisted the urge to touch him then remembered they were supposed to be honeymooners. She ran her fingers up his forearm and played with his ear.

He pulled her hand away, brushing a kiss across her fingers before releasing them. Amusement touched the corners of his eyes.

"And you're awake." He dropped the book onto the nearby coffee table. "You were snoring last time I saw you."

"I don't snore!" She slapped his leg. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you needed sleep." He touched her face, his fingers warm and oh-so-gentle. "People are going to think I hit you."

She placed her hand over his, pressing his palm against her cheek. Heat slithered through her body, and deep inside the trembling began. Lord, she craved this man's touch so much it was beginning to hurt. "Let them. You and I know the truth, and that's all that matters. Did you find anything here?"

He withdrew his hand, but the heat of his touch still lingered on her skin. "Nothing much. A few vague mentions of underground caverns in the area's history, but nothing concrete. They haven't anything official on the area's geology."

"Really? That's odd, isn't it? From the quick look I had coming in, they seem pretty well-stocked on books about the area's history and stuff."

He shrugged. "Maybe someone removed them. I checked the computer records, though, and there's no mention there, either."

"Computer records can be altered easily enough." Especially when you had a computer nerd like

Matthew on hand. Though admittedly, he'd probably been kidnapped for projects loftier than hacking into a library cataloguing system.

She looked around. The old couple sitting close by weren't paying them any attention, but she lowered her voice anyway, just to be safe. "You feel like going for a walk? I've got Matthew's watch in my pocket."

Michael raised his eyebrows. "He's here? In the resort?"

She nodded. "Somewhere."

He glanced at his watch. "Most people will be heading to the restaurant for dinner soon. It's either now, or later tonight."

"Now. And we'd better start hunting around for Rodeman, as well. Ginger said the man who binds them had him in the darkness."

"Whatever that means." He rose and caught her hand, entwining his fingers through hers. "Shall we go for a walk, my love?"

Though she knew he spoke for the benefit of the nearby couple, the endearment still warmed her heart.

They strolled into the lobby. She put her free hand into her pocket, wrapping her fingers around the watch. Images skated through her mind. She only had to focus slightly, and she would be with Matthew.

A tremor ran through her. Why was this happening? What was it about Matthew that linked her so strongly?

Michael squeezed her fingers. "Where to?" he murmured.

"Left," she said. "Down toward the Health Center."

A young woman glanced up as they entered. Her welcoming smile faded almost immediately, and her brown eyes narrowed slightly. "How may I help you?" The look she gave Michael was cold, almost hostile.

He was right. People did think he'd hit her. "Just thought we'd look around, if that's okay?"

"Sure. Feel free to use any of the facilities, although private gym sessions, massages and facials do have to be booked. We're open until midnight every night."

Michael accepted the woman's brochures with a smile. The ice, Nikki noted wryly, began to thaw at that precise moment. She wondered if he'd touched the woman's thoughts and erased her suspicions.

The throbbing in the watch became stronger as they headed toward the treatment rooms. There were few people around, and little noise. Unease began to creep up her spine. Something didn't feel right.

Michael stopped at a tee in the corridor. "Which way?"

She looked left and right. Both corridors lay in semidarkness. There were four doors to their right, two to the left, and not a sound to be heard from either direction. Even the air seemed still, as if the air-conditioning wasn't working in this section of the center. She closed her eyes, briefly clenching the watch. "Right," she said after a moment. "End room."

Though they walked on carpet, her footsteps seemed to echo across the hush surrounding them. Michael made no sound, as silent as a ghost. Goose bumps crawled across her skin, and the sensation of danger churned her stomach. Or maybe it was just nerves.

They stopped in front of the last door. Michael twisted the handle. "Locked," he said, then smiled. "Not that it has much hope against you."

"Haven't met a lock yet I can't master," she said lightly and directed a bolt of kinetic energy at the handle.

The door clicked open. The room beyond was empty and dark, and the air even mustier than the corridor. Obviously, this particular treatment room hadn't seen a lot of action recently. He ushered her through the door, then closed it behind them. The darkness was blanketing, and yet the chairs and tables in the room seemed to glow almost luminously. What in the hell was going on with her sight? Why could she see them so clearly?

"Where now?" His voice, though soft, seemed harsh against the sudden edginess that seemed to fill the unlit room.

She frowned. "Straight ahead." Which didn't make much sense. The only thing straight ahead was a concrete wall.

"It's not solid, though." He brushed past her and ran a hand down the blocks.

She touched it. It sure felt solid. Her frown deepened. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I can see the space beyond it." His reply was absent, his concentration focused on the wall.

She raised her eyebrows. "You can? How?"

"Vampire sight is somewhat similar to infra red. It allows me to see through most walls."

"Really? Bet that was handy in your youthful, wild days."

He glanced at her, smiling again. "I can't see flesh, as such. Just the heat of blood. Here we go," he added, pressing his palm against the wall.

For a second, nothing happened. Then a crack appeared in one section of the wall, accompanied by a sound that could almost have been a scream. It snaked along until it formed the shape of a door, then slowly opened.

"It is a door," he said. "Only it's been disguised by magic."

The magic was obviously active, because it still looked like a concrete wall. She reached out again. This time rough timber met her fingertips. The wood felt warm and somehow oily. She shivered and jerked her hand away.

"Can you see anything beyond the doorway?"

He shook his head. "Just a set of stairs, leading down." He hesitated and raised an eyebrow. "You want to stay here while I investigate?"

She snorted softly. "I think you can guess the answer to that question."

He grinned and held out a hand. "Shall we go as one?"

If only,she thought, and placed her hand in the warmth of his. He tugged her forward, his movements sure despite the black cowl that surrounded them. The steps were wooden and seemed to bend under her weight. It reminded her of the warehouse and the trap Jasper had set. A trap that had very nearly killed her.

"Last step," Michael said after several minutes.

She tensed, but her feet hit rock, not wood. At least it wasn't likely to collapse underneath her…

"We have a choice of three tunnels," he continued. "Which one do we go down?"

They did? She frowned at the blackness. Why could she see so clearly before and not here in the tunnels? It made no sense. She wrapped her fingers around the watch again. "Straight ahead."

They continued on. The air was fresher here, stirred by a faint breeze. There had to be another opening somewhere, which was only logical. Whoever was behind the kidnappings wouldn't be able to risk using the entrance through the treatment room all the time.

Ahead in the darkness, something stirred. She bit her lip. It was nothing she could see or hear, just a whisper of evil that trailed across her senses.

Michael stopped so abruptly she ran nose-first into his back.

"I do wish you'd give me a warning before you do that," she muttered, rubbing her nose.

Nikki, hush.

The command ran through her mind, sharp with concern. Her stomach turned. What's wrong?

Vampires ahead.

That was the evil she'd sensed stirring. She licked suddenly dry lips. How many?

Two.He hesitated. Power tingled across her senses as he searched the night. And two more behind.

The door must have been alarmed. It was stupid, really, not to think it would have been. So what do you want to do?

We can try running, though I doubt it'll do much good.

Running sounds good to me.She'd rather be a running duck than a sitting one any day.

He squeezed her hand. Warmth pulsed through her, but did little to ease the chill of fear.

Follow me, then.

As if she would do anything else right now. He tugged her forward again, racing them through the darkness. Her footsteps echoed. Somewhere ahead, evil began a frenzied dance.

The strength of the breeze grew stronger and carried with it the slight taint of balsam. She hoped it meant they were getting close to the second entrance. Hoped they'd get there before the vampires closed in.

The sense of evil swamped them. Should have known her luck had never been that good.

Michael slid to a stop then thrust her sideways. She hit the tunnel wall hard, her breath leaving in one gigantic whoosh of air. Stunned, she slid down the wall, blinking away tears and fighting the rush of unconsciousness.

The air above her stirred, the sense of evil so heavy she could almost taste it. Fear surged, along with energy. It burned through her body, then lashed at the darkness above her. Something solid hit a far wall and slid to the ground.

She scrambled to her feet. She could hear the scuff of movement, the smack of flesh against flesh, but she couldn't see a damn thing. She clenched her fists, wanting to help Michael, but not daring to get in his way.

Movement to her left. She jumped sideways, lashing out with her fist. Her hand was caught in a vice, her fingers crushed. Pain shot up her arm, surged like fire through her body. She yelped, dropping to her knees, blinking back tears. Energy surged again and sparks danced across her fist, momentarily illuminating the gaunt features of the young vampire who held her. Then the energy hit him, and he was flung away, crashing through the darkness.

Footsteps echoed through the blackness, moving away from them. Michael cursed, and she felt the breeze of him moving, going after the fleeing vampire. She waited tensely, her breath rapid gasps, and her heart pounding so loudly it seemed to reverberate through the tunnel. A certain lure if there were any more vampires nearby.

After a few minutes Michael returned, though it was more a wash of concern through the link that warned her than anything she heard or saw.

Are you okay?He touched her face gently.

I think one of them broke every finger on my hand, but other than that, yeah, I'm fine. You?

They were only fledglings. No match, I'm afraid.

What do we do now?They couldn't leave the young vamps here, or whoever had turned them would know for certain that someone had been down here. Until they found Matthew, Rachel, and Rodeman, they really couldn't risk that.

The mere fact that they are missing will alert the person who turned them.

His mind voice was terse. She wondered why. True. But it might also give us a little more time. He was the one who'd told her the newly turned were unstable. Maybe their maker would just think they were off hunting somewhere. We have no other option, Michael.

No.He hesitated. Let's see how far away the other entrance is. Though it is nearing dusk, there's still enough strength left in the sun to destroy these youngsters.

He ran his hand down her arm and captured her fingers. She followed him through the darkness again.

After a few minutes, the blanket began to rise, revealing the rough brown stone of the walls and floor.

The air became fresher, rich with flowery scents. They turned a corner, and the wall opened up. She'd never been more relieved to see blue sky in her life.

The meadow below them was a sea of colorful wildflowers that swayed lightly in the breeze. To their left, a path curled around the rock face and disappeared. To their right, a drop of about forty feet to the meadow. She looked over the edge. Only rocks to cushion a fall. The ledge crumbled a little under her weight, showering the rocks below with dust.

"Not too near the edge," Michael warned, tugging her away.

She glanced at him. His expression was grim, and he had a cut just above his left eye. Blood trickled down his cheek.

"You're hurt." She dug a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed carefully at the wound.

"I'm fine." He brushed her hand away almost impatiently.

She raised her eyebrows at his tone. There was a bleak light in his eyes, and tension flowed through the color of his thoughts. Fear stirred anew. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. A sure sign there was a problem. "Stay here while I go fetch the bodies."

He disappeared into the tunnel. She crossed her arms and glared at his back. Something had happened in there, something beyond the vamps attacking them, and it was obvious he had no intention of telling her what.

Damn, he could be frustrating sometimes. She snorted softly. Most of the time, really. If she didn't love him so much, she'd probably kill him.

Sighing slightly, she rested her back against the rock face. The sun trailed warmth across her skin, and she closed her eyes, raising her face in appreciation. Why would anyone give this up for eternal darkness? Even Michael, who was over three hundred and sixty years old, couldn't stand the touch of the sun the entire day.

Yet at least he could walk in sunlight. How long had it taken him? And was there ever a point where a vampire could walk in the noonday sun and survive?

Michael reappeared, carrying the bodies of the two young vampires. They began to smoke the minute the sunshine hit them. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see any more. But it was hard to ignore the smell of burning flesh. Harder still to ignore the images of another time, another teenager, burned to death by the warmth of the waning afternoon sun.

He returned a few minutes later with the remaining two bodies. Smoke plumed skyward, tainting the clear skies.

"People will investigate that," she said. Yet even as she watched, the breeze dissipated the smoke so that it was little more than a yellow stain.

"By the time anyone of importance gets here, there will be nothing to find. The rocks will not hold a pyre's stain like earth will. Ready to go back?"

"We're not continuing our search for Matthew?" she asked in surprise.

"We can't take the risk now that we've sprung that alarm." His voice was absent, his attention on the path.

What fascinated him so? Did he sense someone coming? She bit her lip, searching the rocks above them. She could hear distant laughter, and the high pitched squeal of a child, so the hotel wasn't that far away. Yet she could hear or sense nothing close.

He began moving up the path. She scooted after him, but found it difficult to keep up.

"You seem in an awful hurry to get somewhere," she muttered between gasps for air. "Care to tell me what's going on?"

"We should not be seen on this trail, just in case someone does come looking for the fledglings."

A perfectly good answer, but not the real reason behind his haste. Besides, he hadn't even looked at her.

His gaze was focused on the hotel, now visible above them. As if he was looking for someone.

"We going to eat when we get back?" she asked. "Maybe make out? Do the wild thing in the pool in front of all the other guests?"

"You should eat."

She snorted softly. Yeah, he was really paying attention to what she was saying. They reached the plateau, but still he didn't slow. She paused, hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. Her heart was a freight train racing in her chest, and sweat trickled down her face. Michael kept walking.

Either he hadn't noticed she'd stopped, or he didn't care. She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her throat—a dryness that had nothing to do with her exertion and everything to do with fear.

Once her breathing had eased a little, she ran after him again. She had no intention of missing whatever it was that had caught his attention so completely.

Meadow grass and wildflowers gave way to the hotel's manicured lawn. He made his way through the gardens and around to the back of the hotel. In the shadows of a large pine he stopped and studied the pool area below them.

There were several people lounging in chairs near the water, and two children splashed in the spa. But it was the woman in the pool, the woman in an itsy-bitsy red bathing suit that he stared at.

Fear stepped fully into Nikki's heart, squeezing it tight. Whoever this woman was, she represented danger—and in more ways than one. That was obvious from Michael's haste to get here.

"Who is she?" she said, her voice little more than a strangled whisper.

"That," he said softly. "Is the woman I gave up life for."