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"Damn it, woman, will you answer me?"

Her gaze jumped to his. The concern is his eyes was so strong she might have named it fear in anyone else. “I'm okay. I just need a drink."

He fetched a glass of water and sat beside her on the floor. His arm brushed against hers, and warmth pulsed through her body, erasing the chill.

"What happened?” he asked.

She rinsed her mouth with the water and spat it out in the toilet. “I tried tracing the whereabouts of MacEwan's niece."

"And?"

He didn't sound surprised. Maybe she was becoming predictable. “And I not only found her, but became a part of her.” She shuddered and took a hasty gulp of water, half wishing it was something stronger. “She's hunting, Michael. I was with her when she fed." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her toward him. She rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. She felt so safe, it was almost scary.

"You should have pulled out sooner.” He brushed a kiss across the top of her head. “If you don't, you run the danger of losing yourself in the other person's desires." She glanced up at him. There was a smudge of red on his cheek. Lipstick, from a kiss. This close, she could smell the other woman's perfume, a sickly-sweet scent reminiscent of orange and honey. But he was here, not with her , and for now, that was all that mattered.

"But why is this happening now? Is it some sort of fallout from you sharing your life force?"

"No. It's an ability you've always had.” He brushed the hair from her eyes, tucking it gently behind her ears.

Her skin tingled from his touch, and her heart began to accelerate. Deep inside, a familiar ache began. One she had no choice but to ignore. They didn't have the time. Or rather, Rachel's next victim didn't.

“But it's something I've never been able to do until recently." He raised an eyebrow. “Think about what you do. Psychometry is the ability to pull images of past events from certain objects, is it not?"

She nodded.

"But that is not what you do, is it? You use the objects to pull images from the present, to see where the owners are or what they are doing. Not strictly psychometry, more a light mind-meld, using the object in hand as a link."

Put like that, he was right. She'd never thought about it before. “But why is it showing up now?"

"It's probably a result of the mind-meld we did to find Jake. Up until then, you hadn't realized the full extent of your capabilities."

Another shudder ran through her. Touching someone's mind so intimately that she felt their needs and desires wasn't a capability she wanted. “We have to stop Rachel. And we have to stop her tonight, before she kills anyone else. But we can't kill her. Something strange is going on with her." He rose, then pulled her up as well. “We may have no option.” He tugged her so close their bodies molded against each other, then wrapped his arms around her waist. “Have I ever mentioned the fact that you smell delicious?"

She grinned. “Even when I've been throwing my guts up in the toilet?"

"Even then,” he said and brushed a kiss across her lips. “Let's go capture this vampire of yours." Right then, with her lips still tingling from his brief kiss and his arms around her waist so tight it felt as if he would never let her go, moving was the last thing she wanted to do. But move she had to if she wanted to stop Rachel killing again.

She sighed. “We'll have to rent a car. She's in Jackson Hole."

"The hotel has cars available for guests. It shouldn't be a problem getting one.” He released her waist and caught her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. “But just remember, we may have no choice but to kill her. She's newly turned and probably not what you'd call rational." Nikki grabbed the bra as they headed out of the room, stuffing it quickly into her pocket. “But that's it,”

she said. “Rachel wasn't acting like Monica. She hungered, but not insatiably so. She took the time to seduce this guy, let him make love to her, and didn't eat until he'd finished.” And had become orgasmic while doing so.

A chill raced across her skin. Maybe it was too late to save Rachel—if saving her had ever been an option.

He frowned. “Not the normal behavior of a fledgling."

"If Monica was a sample of normal behavior, then no." They reached the concierge and made arrangements to rent a car. Five minutes later they were cruising toward Jackson Hole in a small sedan.

"Where to?” Michael asked as they approached the welcoming warmth of lights. She wrapped her hand around the bra. Images teased her mind, lust and hunger mingled with rising excitement. Rachel had found her next victim.

She licked her lips. “Take the next left, then cruise down the street until you see a bar with lots of pickup trucks parked out the front."

He turned left and slowed. The bar was halfway along the street. He parked, and they both climbed out. The breeze tugged at her hair, whipping strands across her face. She pushed them back, studying the building across the road. It looked like a leftover from the eighteen hundreds, a big, old, ramshackle construction that should have had horses lined up out front rather than trucks. Music and laughter ran across the night, and the breeze was heavy with the scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Michael glanced at her. “Ready?"

Ready to maybe kill another human being? No, she thought. Never. She took a deep breath. Rachel wasn't human anymore, and the longer she stood here hesitating, the more chance there was that people would die.

"You can stay in the car, Nikki. You don't have to do this." She grimaced slightly. “I owe this much to MacEwan.” Because he would want to know the truth of what happened, and would sense a lie.

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