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"I need you,” he whispered and held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair as he battled the urgency pounding through his body, his heart.
"Then take me,” she murmured, her lips trailing fire where they touched. The gentle dance of their minds grew heated, wildfire ready to explode. God, she felt so good, so right. How in the hell was he going to walk away from the emotions underlying the heat of all this? How could he deny the harmony of their minds? How could either of them?
Nikki ran a hand through the dark silk of his hair. “Hush, Michael. Just love me. Let tomorrow worry about itself."
Give me one night without fear, one night to remember when Jasper is gone, and you walk away. Pain flickered through her heart, but she ignored it. She had no time, no wish, to do anything more than respond to the heat of his touch, the warmth of his thoughts. Lord, it felt as if she had known him all his life, had been responding to him for the three hundred years he had mentioned—as though his touch and his kiss and his warmth were as vital as air. As vital as the blood that thundered through his heart and hers.
Maybe they were. But that was something she'd worry about tomorrow. She had this moment and time without Jasper in her mind. She had to make the most of it.
* * * *
Michael gently caressed Nikki's thigh. Lord, it felt so good, lying here beside her in the warm aftermath of their lovemaking. Her thoughts were as quiet as the gentle rhythm of her heart. In a few minutes she'd be asleep. But as much as he wanted Nikki to rest, he couldn't let her, not just yet.
"Nikki, we need to talk,” he said softly.
She stirred and murmured something he couldn't quite catch. He reached out, brushing silken strands of hair away from her face. “Nikki?"
Her eyes opened, and a smile twitched the corners of her mouth. Only the sudden wisp of wariness in her thoughts made him resist the impulse to kiss her.
"I gather vampires are immune to the make-love-then-collapse syndrome that seems to affect so many men."
He smiled. “No, they're not.” He would have liked nothing more than to fall to sleep with her in his arms. But Jasper was out there. “We have to talk."
"What about?” A flicker of guilt ran through her thoughts, and he wondered if she were already regretting their lovemaking.
"About Tommy."
It was not what she'd expected, and her thoughts were suddenly chaotic. “Why?"
"Jasper's using your fear against you, Nikki. He's using past demons to grind down your resistance." She tensed. “What do you mean?"
She knew what he meant. He could see the images in her mind, skittering like scared rabbits. “I mean it's time you faced the past, time for you to let go of the guilt." She was silent for a long moment. Michael held her quietly, listening to the beat of her heart, a rhythm filled with fear.
"Tommy has nothing to do with any of this,” she muttered finally. Heat crept through her cheeks as she looked away. “You've no right to know, no right to ask."
And no right to care. It was a thought that tasted bitter. But one way or another, she had to face the guilt centered around that part of her past, or she would have very little hope of resisting Jasper's final call. In many ways, Jasper represented the darker side of human existence, and guilt was part of that darkness. It drew her into Jasper's sphere of influence, made it all that much easier for him to attack her.
"Jasper wouldn't use Tommy's memory if he didn't think it would help break your spirit, Nikki. It's time you told someone what happened."
Her face was as pale as the tangled sheets beneath them. “If I tell you, will you promise never to bring the subject up again?"
"Yes.” It was an easy thing to promise, given he had no intention of staying around. He might have the desire to stay, but desire was something he rarely gave in to. She stared at her feet. “I met Tommy several months after my parents’ death. I was pretty messed up at the time, and on the run. The authorities wanted to place me with my grandparents, who I'd never met.”
She hesitated, and shrugged. “Tommy led the street gang I started running with." No wonder she'd empathized with Monica. She'd been in much the same situation as the teenager—young and confused, with no one listening to what she wanted. An easy target for evil. Though why she thought Tommy was in the same league as Jasper, he couldn't say. Maybe it was merely a reaction to her memories, her fear.
"How did you meet him?"
She licked her lips. “I was in a store his gang was robbing. One of the kids was bashing the old guy at the register, and I stopped him."
"Kinetically?"
She nodded. “It was the first time it happened. Up until then, I hadn't really done much more than have the occasional dream."
Images of her parents’ death flickered through her mind, images not faded by time or acceptance. She must have dreamed of their deaths. “How old were you?"
"Fourteen."
Fourteen years old and no doubt going through puberty. Most talents didn't fully appear before then. Add on top of that the fact she'd seen her parents die, once in her dreams and once in reality, and it was no wonder she'd been pretty messed up.
