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"Midnight, apparently."
Witching hour. The time when all things dark and deadly came out to play. Things like Michael. Or Jasper.
She shuddered and lightly rubbed her wrist. In the worst of her dreams, she could still feel Jasper's touch—in her thoughts, and on her skin. But Jasper was dead, burned to ashes by the sun's heat. His evil could never touch her again.
Could never feed off her again.
A chill ran through her. Jasper wasn't the only malevolent being in this world. She couldn't shake the certainty that evil of another kind was on the move in Lyndhurst tonight. And that it was after Matthew Kincaid.
The bass-heavy pounding faded, replaced by a gentler, more romantic song. On the pool deck, teenagers drew close. There was probably more kissing going on than dancing. She looked across to the bar. Matthew was staring at the crowd, his expression a mix of envy and anger. He slammed his drink onto the counter then walked away.
"Heads up. He's on the move."
"Where?” Jake sounded relieved.
Matthew disappeared behind the tent that housed the bar. Nikki broke into a run, keeping to the shadows as she skirted the sweating mass of slow-dancing teenagers. The teenager came into sight, arms swinging as fast as his legs as he strode along the path.
She slowed, not wanting to get too close and attract his attention. “He's heading for the back gate."
"Anyone else in sight?"
"Not unless you want to count the teenagers getting passionate under the trees." Jake snorted softly. “I'll bring my car around. Keep me posted."
"Will do."
Matthew reached the gate and stopped to unlock it. She stepped behind a tree. The kid threw the gate open, then glanced over his shoulder. His look was petulant, like a child who sees candy he knows he can't have.
It wasn't his family making him run, she thought with a grin. It was his hormones. He headed out and turned right. She pressed the two-way, telling Jake, then followed the teenager out the gate.
Matthew's long strides had taken him a good way down the street. She crossed to the other side then broke into a run, closing the distance between them. The slow beat of the music began to fade, and silence closed in, broken only by the occasional roar of a car engine or the blast of a horn. The teenager strode on, looking neither right nor left. She swiped at the sweat dripping from her chin and studied the street ahead. They were in the Heights—a ritzy and very expensive section of Lyndhurst nestled into the western edge of the mountains that ringed the town. Below them, lights blazed, a neon sea of brightness that outshone the stars. Matthew could have been heading toward any one of those lights, but her gaze stopped at the docks. Ocean Road led down to there. And that's where he's going, she thought.
The two-way buzzed softly. “Nik, I'm in the car. Where are you?" She pressed the receiver. “Ocean Road, just past Second."
"I'm parallel on West. Let me know if he changes direction or meets a car."
"Will do."
They continued on—Matthew striding out, her half running to keep up with him. Boxlike shapes began to loom up around them as houses gave way to factories and warehouses. The faint wash of traffic noise seemed to die completely, and in the silence, her breathing seemed sharp and harsh. Ahead, Matthew stopped in the puddle of an overhead light and glanced at his watch. He looked briefly to his right, then turned left, heading into a small side street. She pressed the two-way. “He's just turned into an alley. He's heading your way."
"Last cross street?"
She frowned, thinking back. “Sixth."
"Just passed it. I'll park and wait."
She stopped near the street entrance and peered around the corner. Matthew was nowhere in sight. Swearing softly, she hurried down the street, keeping an eye on the fences lining either side of the road, looking for gaps or gateways the teenager could have gone through. Nothing. But halfway down on the right she came across a small street. The teenager was a dark shadow moving quickly away. She sighed in relief. “He's turned off again,” she told Jake. She glanced up, studying the unlit street sign.
“Heading down Baker's Lane toward the docks."
"That street comes to a dead end."
She hoped it was just a figure of speech and not a reality. “It's a rather odd place to meet an Internet friend, don't you think?"
"If it is a friend he's meeting, then yes. But all sorts of perverts go trawling the chat rooms looking for innocents like Matthew."
She kept close to the fence on the off chance that Matthew turned around. At least in the darker shadows lining the fence she'd be harder to spot. “Problem is, I've got a feeling it's not your average pervert we're looking at here."
Jake groaned. “That's all we need. I'm heading in—and bringing a gun."
