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"The door's locked,” Jake said into the silence.
She turned away from Michael and gave another mental push. The door opened gently, and Jake raised a surprised eyebrow.
She shrugged in reply and climbed the steps. Warm air rushed past her legs as she stopped in front of the open door. Light filtered down the stairs at the far end of the hall, but the rest of the house was a no-man's-land of uneasy shadows.
Jake turned on the flashlight and swung the beam left to right, searching the darkness.
"Nothing.” His voice was hushed, as if he too sensed death waiting. “I guess we'd better check upstairs." She fought the sudden rise of her stomach. Death waited upstairs, and she really didn't want to face it again. “After you."
"I cannot go inside,” Michael said quietly. “While you two can give a plausible enough excuse for being here, I can't. I'll wait here and watch for Monica."
Jake motioned her to hurry. She hesitated, glancing back at Michael. “And if she eludes you?"
"I'll warn you,” he replied. “And I want you out fast. Remember, she'll be quicker than a rattlesnake and twice as deadly."
"Thanks. I really needed to know that."
He shrugged. His eyes were as frightening as the house. “Go. Just take care." After a second's hesitation, she stepped through the doorway and followed Jake. They climbed the stairs. At the top, death waited.
"Shit,” Jake said, and stopped in the doorway of the first room. Though warned by the images she'd shared with Michael, her stomach still turned. The bodies were a twisted mass of flesh that no longer resembled anything human. Blood lay everywhere. If it hadn't been for the bits of humanity scattered about, it would have been easy to think some kid had gone wild with a can of red paint.
"Monica obviously had more than one score to settle.” Jake took several steps into the room. “And for a vampire, she's damn messy."
Nikki gave him a sharp glance. His ironic half smile told her he was only trying to make a tough situation somewhat easier. Told her he still refused to believe Monica was a vampire. He picked his way through the smashed furniture and knelt next to what was left of the butler. Why, she had no idea. Certainly there was no hope of life in what was left of him.
Grab some of the wood.
She frowned. Why in the hell would I do that?
It's wood, Nikki. Michael's mental tone was brusque. Deadly to vampires in any form. She picked up the smashed leg of a chair. A little too thick perhaps, but nicely jagged at one end ... She blanched and almost dropped it. Where the hell had that thought come from?
Keep it. You have no other way to protect yourself should Monica attack. I can run.
She is the wind.
She clutched the leg tightly. Jake rose from examination of the old man's body, his face pale.
"Well, if she used a knife to create this mess, there's certainly no immediate evidence of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The police are going to love this." "We have to stop her, Jake, not the cops.” She motioned towards the two bodies. “They won't understand what they're dealing with."
"Nikki, we're not even sure what we're dealing with." She shrugged. If the sight of these bodies didn't convince him, nothing would.
"We still have to find something holding Monica's vibes."
"We'd better be out of this house before the cops and Trevgard get here,” Jake muttered sourly. “Or there will be hell to pay."
"Especially when he discovers his precious little daughter has become a vicious killer."
"There's no direct evidence that it's Monica, Nik. Remember that.” He motioned her out the door. “If I recall rightly, the bedrooms are situated at the other end of the house." She followed him back down the stairs, glad to be free of the room and the nauseous smell of death. Monica's on the prowl, Michael's warned softly. She's heading toward the house. Can you stop her?
Only if you want me to sacrifice Trevgard. He's cruising up the driveway. Hell. Nikki massaged her temples. This was all they needed. Look after Trevgard. We'll grab what we need and get out of here.
Hurry Nikki. You haven't much time.
Jake touched her arm, and she started.
"You all right?"
She licked her lips and nodded. “Monica's heading our way." He didn't question her certainty, which was just as well. How could she possibly explain her connection to Michael, when in all the time Jake had known her, she'd never been able to do more than read a fleeting word or emotion?
