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No. His sigh was a cool breeze that tempered the warmth in the link. The link strengthens every time we use it.
That might be true, but she suspected the real reason he kept the link blocked most of the time was because, with the link open, he could not hide behind words. She could see the truth in the color of the emotions flowing from his thoughts to hers.
Meaning, the more you use it, the less you'll be able to block me?
He hesitated, then answered almost reluctantly. Yes.
She grinned. At least I now know where the next line of assault should be. You're incorrigible. His amusement shimmered around her. I'm also headstrong and stubborn and very bad-tempered in the mornings before I get my coffee. And I'm in love with the most muleheaded man I have ever met in my entire life. And he loves you, even if he doesn't want you in his life. She stopped dead, pulling him to a halt as well. That's the first time you've actually said you loved me. Why couldn't he have said it while they were in their room, when she could see him, see his eyes?>With most fledglings, the threat would have been useless. They were too caught up with their cravings, too consumed by the need to explore who they were and what they had become, to understand threat. But Rachel nodded and gulped. Maybe it was the imp in her, giving her the sanity it took most fledglings years to attain.
Nikki slowed and turned into a driveway. There was a man at the gate. She opened her window and spoke to him for several minutes. Michael touched the man's thoughts, erasing all memory of Rachel—just in case Cordell came looking for them. “Runway's lit and ready,” she said, driving on.
"Park nearby and wait.” He turned his attention back to Rachel. “What else can you tell us about Cordell?"
"Nothing. We know nothing."
"How did you meet him, then?” he asked.
Rachel crossed her arms, her look petulant. “We met him on the Internet." He glanced at Nikki . Didn't Matthew meet his abductor via the Net? He didn't mention Elizabeth, though her name hung in Nikki's thoughts. Elizabeth hadn't exactly admitted to being involved—hadn't denied it, either—and her burned hand was an ominous sign. But he wasn't ready to accuse her when they had no definite proof. He owed her that much, at least.
Yes. Nikki's annoyance was a black cloud that stung his mind. And isn't it odd that the link seems to open every time you have a question that can't be asked out loud. You wouldn't happen to be blocking it, would you?
Now is not the time for this, Nikki. He slammed the link closed again, but nevertheless felt the surge of her anger. Ignoring it and her, he looked back to Rachel. “And you became lovers?"
"We were before he turned me."
Meaning, obviously, they were no longer. Why? Did Cordell lose the taste for them once he had turned them? “He must have told you something about himself in the time you were lovers. Where did he live?"
"He had an apartment in The Heights."
"A plane is coming,” Nikki said. She stopped and craned her head out the window. Michael saw the lights beginning to descend. He glanced back at Rachel. “If he could afford to live in The Heights, why is he kidnapping these millionaires?"
She shrugged. “He hates them. He thinks they owe him."
He frowned. “Why would he think they owe him?"
"We don't really know, do we? Probably something to do with his accident."
"Accident? What type—"
"Michael,” Nikki interjected. She was staring out the rear window, and there was fear in her tone, her face, and her thoughts. “He's here. He's somewhere behind us."
"Where, exactly?” He twisted around, searching the night. Light flared behind them, a jagged blue-white beam that cut through the night, heading straight toward them. Fear tightened his gut. “Get out!” He reached across Rachel and thrust open the door. “Get out now!" He pushed Rachel toward the door, saw Nikki dive out, then flung open his door and rolled out. He'd barely hit the ground when the night, and the car, exploded into flame around him.
Chapter Sixteen
Nikki huddled against the ground, nose first in the dirt, her hands over her head and heat searing her back. Chunks thudded into the soil around her, bits and pieces of red-glowing metal, all that remained of the car. The air sizzled, thick with smoke and burning her lungs with every intake of breath. Michael? She twisted around quickly, scanning the fire-drenched night behind her. Here. I'm okay. You?
Relief swept through her. Fine . Even if her ears were ringing so loudly the roaring flames were little more than a whisper of sound. On hands and knees, she crawled farther away from the car and the heat, then sat down and stuck a finger in her ear. It didn't seem to help . I think I've gone deaf, though. Can you see Rachel?
She looked around again and saw the young vampire sprawled ten feet away. A jagged piece of metal poked out of her back. She staggered across to her and felt for a pulse on Rachel's neck. She's injured but alive.
A warning tingled across her skin. She glanced up. Michael stood opposite her, though the shadows were wrapped tightly around him. He was little more than a slight shimmer in the darkness. Fear surged anew. “What's wrong?"
Nothing. Can you sense Cordell any more?
She studied the night for several seconds. Out on the main road, coming from the right, lights approached—the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. How had they gotten there so fast? The ranch owner had obviously called the fire department.
I can't sense him anywhere near. Why aren't you showing yourself?
