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Michael leaned wearily against the wall, impatiently watching the sun go down. For the last three days they'd followed every possible lead, yet had found no trace of Nikki or her captor. Everyone, even Monica and the zombies, seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth. He touched the cross around his neck. The silver tingled against his skin and would, in time, burn him. He didn't care. It was Nikki's—all that he might ever be able to have of her. He closed his eyes and reached again for the link. Darkness greeted him, a wall he could not traverse. At least she was still alive.
But until she was free of the chains holding her mind captive, there was little he could do to help her. Jasper had chosen his hiding place too well. It could take weeks to ferret him out. Indeed, the last time he had run for cover, it had taken Michael almost a year to track him down again. Nikki probably didn't have that much time left.
All he could do was wait until dusk and return to the hunt, however futile. He crossed his arms and continued to watch the late afternoon crowds rush past. A thick curtain of lace protected him from the main thrust of the afternoon's heat, but he didn't dare go any closer to the window. He wasn't suicidal. Behind him, Jake paced the length of the office and swore into the telephone. It was a futile exercise. They both knew there was little the cops could do that the two of them hadn't already tried. Hunger washed through him. He ignored it. There was no time to eat. The detour might mean the difference between finding some clue and not. He just couldn't take the risk. He sighed and cast his gaze back to the skies. The day had been an appropriate one—wet and miserable. Only now did the sun begin to break the heavy blanket of clouds. He hoped it was a sign of better things to come.
Behind him, Jake slammed the phone down. “Damn those bastards."
"They're doing their best,” Michael said softly.
"Well, it's not good enough!"
Nothing was good enough, he thought in bleak agreement. Not the cop's efforts nor theirs. Nikki was still captive to evil, and God knows what he was doing to her ... He took a deep breath and shoved the thought away.
But he couldn't so easily escape the guilt. This was his fault. He should never have attempted to use her as bait. It had only led Jasper to believe she meant something to him. He was sure it was for that reason, more than the power of her gifts, that Jasper had gone after her. Though it was, perhaps, the only reason she was not yet dead.
Only now, when it didn't really matter, did Michael realize the fool he'd been.
"Damn it all, we should be out there ourselves.” Jake swung around and snatched his coat off the back of his chair. “I can't sit here any longer. I'm going to look for her." "I cannot."
Jake turned to face him. “Why in hell not? I thought you cared for her!" Michael clamped down on his temper. “Whether I do or not has no bearing on the matter. I simply cannot go outside."
"Why? Afraid of the sun or something?"
"Or something,” Michael muttered, then turned. It was not what he'd call an ideal time to be honest—but then, what time was? It would be so easy to just reach out and touch Jake's mind, make him trust—but he couldn't. Nikki would know.
"Jasper and I have one thing in common. We're both vampires. I'll die if I walk outside right now." Jake stared wide-eyed at him. “You're kidding ... right?
"No. While I do not take human blood, I am a vampire."
"But ... you're standing in sunshine now."
"Diffused sunlight. Watch.” He reached forward, brushing aside the curtain to let the full force of the sun fall upon his arm. Instantly his skin began to turn red. He let the curtain drop back in place before the burn became too bad. “Because I have been on this earth a long time, I can stand some sunlight. Even so, if I went out there now, I'd only last ten minutes or so." Jake leaned against his desk and ran a hand through his pale blonde hair. Michael could hear the struggle in his thoughts. Lord, it would be so easy to reach out ... He clenched his fists and waited.
"Does Nikki know?” Jake said after a moment.
It wasn't a question he'd expected. And though he could see fear in Jake's eyes, it wasn't the full-blown panic he'd half anticipated. “No. But I have no doubt Jasper will tell her."
"Hell of a way to find out.” He swallowed slightly. “You don't take human blood, you say?"
"No."
"Of course, I only have your word on that."
Michael returned his gaze evenly. “If I wanted to taste your blood, you wouldn't even have time to scream."
"Well, that's just great.” Jake shuddered, then ran a hand across the sandy stubble lining his chin. “In recent days I've seen zombies, and the dead walk from the morgue. I suppose it's not too much of a stretch to believe you're a vampire. Though I have to say, you don't act very vampire-like." Michael raised an eyebrow. “And how many vampires have you met to make such a judgement?"
"Well, just Monica and Jasper, but I've seen countless Dracula movies." "The Dracula legend was based on a man. It has very little to do with reality."
"Tell that to Monica and this Jasper of yours. They're pretty much matching the legend."
"Becoming a vampire did not make Jasper what he is today. His thirst for blood was evident well before his turning."
"But turning has made him more unkillable.” Jake hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why did he really snatch Nikki? To get back at you?"
"I believe so. He thinks I care for her—"
"Which you do."
