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That was why she'd made him vow never to make her do anything against her will. A sob escaped her control, and he drew her into his arms and let her cry. At least she was finally letting go of the pain she'd held in check for so long. But it wasn't over yet. “How did you escape the police?" She laughed, a bitter, brittle sound that made him wince. “I didn't. Tommy escaped. They told me later that I'd been lucky he hadn't grabbed me as a hostage. They never knew it was me who killed that guard..."
"If one man uses a gun to kill another, you blame the man who pulled the trigger, not the weapon, Nikki.” And that's all she'd been, a weapon. She sniffed, but wasn't ready to let go of the past just yet.
“How did he die?"
"The streets caught up with him. His violence had made him a lot of enemies, and in the end, it came back to him."
Then why did she feel so guilty about his death?
She shifted in his arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder. The warmth of her skin burned into him. He fleetingly wished they could just stay here, on this bed, and forget about everything but each other.
"Because I dreamed it was going to happen,” she whispered. “And I didn't tell him." She was reading his thoughts as clearly as he was reading hers. Link or not, she shouldn't have been able to. “Why not?” he asked, knowing that in the same situation, he would have wished the fiend to hell and laughed as he died.
But Nikki didn't have three hundred years of weariness behind her.
" Oh God ... ” She hesitated, and her hand clenched against his. “I told him that I hated him. I told him he could burn in hell for all I cared. Ten hours later he was dead. I felt his soul leave his body, Michael. I felt it encased in the fires of Hell. I could have stopped it, but I didn't. Just as I didn't stop my parents” death. They all died because of me."
If she'd seen her parents’ death, why hadn't she warned them? Surely not out of hate—she had loved them, that much was clear. “His soul was cursed long before you came along, Nikki. You did nothing more than trust the wrong man."
"But he was good to me. He cared for me."
He was pretty sure the only person Tommy had cared about was himself. But she wasn't ready yet to face that. “He only wanted to make you trust him, make you need him. Where Jasper has tried force and drugs to subvert your will, Tommy used your emotions."
"But I loved him."
Yet even as she whispered the words, there was doubt in her thoughts. For the first time in years, she was looking past her fear and truly seeing the man Tommy had been.
"But he didn't die because of that love, Nikki.” He hesitated, the added, “He was a vicious thug who got what he deserved."
"Maybe. But there's still my parents."
Three hours ago she wouldn't have confided this much. And yet he sensed it wasn't so much trust as the need to finally purge her demons. Perhaps she saw the necessity as much as he. “Want to tell me about it?"
"No.” She took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath. “They were going away without me, taking a second honeymoon and leaving me in the care of a nanny. I was so furious with them. When I had the dream, I didn't tell them."
"You were a kid, Nikki. All kids do horrible things at one time or another."
"Not all kids watch their parents die. Not all kids feel the caress of their mother's soul as she passes away."
Which was surely punishment enough for her childish rush of spitefulness. “Would your parents have believed you even if you had told them? Would it have stopped them from going?" She smiled slightly. “No. They would have seen it as a variation on the tantrums I'd been throwing."
"Then you could not have changed what was fated to happen."
"Maybe. Maybe not.” There was an odd mix of uncertainty and hope in her eyes. He smiled and pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. For now, that mix was enough. At least she'd seen beyond her guilt and released some of her pent-up pain.
The deaths in her past would no longer be a weapon for Jasper to use. It might not be much, but it was a start.
She gently touched the silver cross resting against his chest. “Where did you find it?"
"In the tunnel.” Fear danced lightly through her thoughts. He placed his hand over hers, pressing her fingers against the flesh above his heart. “Do you want it back?" She hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Keep it, if you want." He did want. It was a small piece of her he could take with him when he left. He glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. Time enough, perhaps, to ease the ache of the past and create a final memory to last a lifetime.
He met her gaze. There was understanding in her eyes, acceptance in her thoughts. Just one more time, he vowed, and reached for her.
Chapter Twelve
The morning light washed across her face, painting her pale skin gold. Michael smiled and brushed the stray lock of hair away from her cheek. She looked so much younger in sleep, almost childlike. Yet the image was a lie. Nikki was an old spirit in a young body. Her parents’ death and her brief time with Tommy had forced her to grow up far too early. She'd lived through the nightmare and somehow survived. Maybe now that she'd finally confronted her memories and guilt, she'd be able to do more than that. Maybe now she'd live—and love—without fear.
He eased his arm out from under her head and watched her snuggle into the blankets. Lord, he didn't want to leave her. Not now, not in the future. But he no choice about either. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. This morning had been a mistake. He should never have touched her a second time, should never have let their minds entwine so strongly. For now he could no longer deny he was human, with human wants and needs.
