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"Yes.” The melodious voice was soft. Sympathetic.
"And you're saying I can talk to these ghosts if I choose to?"
"I'm saying you can call them and bring them into being. Give them the power to react with your world." She wasn't sure she understood what that meant. And right now, she really didn't want to know. “It's been eleven months since Michael brought me back from the dead. Why have you come to me now and not before?"
"On this plane, time is meaningless. A breath can take a second or a century. It matters not."
"That's not much of an answer,” she grumbled.
The old woman's toothless smile flashed. “No. But until now, the results of his actions had not begun to appear."
She remembered the whispers she'd heard down in the sewers. The nebula cloud that had briefly appeared before the vampires attacked. Ghosts? Or the imaginings of a fearful mind? Despite what the old woman was saying, she wasn't entirely sure she could believe it was the whispers of the dead she'd heard.
"So how am I supposed to empower these ghosts of yours?"
"Reach out psychically. They will connect with you and draw on your strength to gain substance."
"That sounds dangerous."
The old woman's smile was wry. “So is taking a walk across the park these days." True. But muggers she could cope with. She wasn't so sure she could handle nebula bits of mist sucking at her energy to gain form. It reminded her too much of vampires. The old woman climbed to her feet. “I must take you back,” she said. “You cannot remain long on this plane. Remember that in the future when you roam this world." Nikki frowned as she rose. “What do you mean?"
"I mean your soul was never destined to stay on this plane. You were meant for the light. The longer you remain here, the more it sucks your strength. The more it sucks his strength." She stared at the old woman as the implications of her words sank in. “What? How is that possible?"
"Your energies are linked. He is your strength, and you are his. You are two halves of a whole and function as such."
Oh god ... Michael was meeting with Farmer. And she was here. Sucking his strength when he needed it most. “You have to get me back. Quickly."
The old woman nodded and walked down the hill. The ghosts parted, an unearthly wave that made no sound and yet whose whispering filled her mind.
Then their presence gave way to the damp touch of real fog. The tingling hit her, burning across her skin, through her mind. Then she was stumbling forward, landing on her hands and knees, her fingers sliding against grass that was real and wet rather than ghostly.
She looked around quickly but couldn't see the old woman. But Nikki had a feeling she would be there, on the other side, if and when she chose to go back.
She thrust upwards, but at that moment, pain hit her, so thick and fast it snatched her breath and drove her face-first back to the ground.
Not hers.
Michael's.
Chapter Fourteen
For several seconds Nikki could do nothing more than lie there. The simple act of breathing had become a struggle, and fire burned through every fiber of her being. Her muscles thumped and quivered, as if someone was kicking and punching her. And she knew what she was feeling was merely an echo of what was actually happening to him.
Michael? She thrust the link wide and called with every ounce of strength she had. There was no response. His mind wasn't shuttered, simply lost in a fog she could not traverse. A fog she'd felt once before—when Jasper had drugged her to stop her using her talents to contact Michael. If she'd sucked away his strength, if he couldn't use his talents because his mind was warped by drugs, he couldn't protect himself—not in any way.
Panic tore through her heart. He couldn't die ... not now, not when there were so many things left unsaid between them.
Tears stung her eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to regain some sense of control. Don't think. Don't feel. React .
She pushed to her knees and grabbed the cell phone from her pocket, quickly dialing Jake.
"Where are you?” she asked, the minute he answered.
"Down at Fisherman's Wharf.” He hesitated, and concern touched his voice as he continued. “Why?"
"Because Michael's in trouble. Meet me near the Hard Rock on Van Ness Avenue." She hung up and climbed to her feet. She thought briefly about catching a cab but knew it was probably faster to run, even though the peak of rush hour had come and gone. So she ran. The fog slapped wetly against her skin, soaking her hair and dribbling down her face. Or maybe that was tears. She didn't know. Didn't care. Her heart pounded a rhythm that was as fast and fearful as every step, yet deep inside she knew no matter how fast she was, it was never going to be enough. Not to save Michael from the damage Farmer was inflicting.
Maybe not even to save his life.
