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Jake stared at her, face paler than before. “Dear God..."
"Exactly. I could lose myself in her, especially with Michael not here to pull me out." "If you think it's too dangerous..."
"No.” Besides, a little thing like losing her mind was nothing when Mary's life was at stake. She had to at least try. Had to. “But you'll have to keep close watch on me. If I start looking too stressed, you pull me out, any way you can."
He didn't ask how he was supposed to do that. He obviously knew she had as little idea as he did.
"When I nod, place the bra in my hand.” She edged back on the sofa and crossed her legs. Closing her eyes, she breathed, slow and deep, trying to follow the process Michael had shown her. Only he'd been there to help her, guard her...
Fear rose. She chased it away. She had no time for that now.
Breathe in, breathe out. Slow. Rhythmic. Gradually, the tension began to leave her limbs and her mind. She lowered her barriers, felt the buzz of expectation run through her psychic senses. She opened her hand and nodded. The minute the bra touched her hand, images burned through her soul. She wrapped her fingers around the material, pressing it into her palm. Her senses leaped away, following the trail that led to Mary. Shapes began to form. Fear trembled through her.
She thrust it from her again and concentrated on Mary. Imagined their thoughts as two separate streams that ran side by side, touching but not merging.
Then she reached—and was swept into Mary's thoughts...
...the darkness moved. Breathed. Fear shuddered through her, so strong it caught in her throat, making it difficult to catch her breath. She tried to shift back. The bed rocked underneath her, creaking loudly—but not loudly enough to cover the rattle of the chains that held her. They were tight, biting into her wrists and ankles.
Two blue lights appeared in the night. Eyes, she realized. Eyes ringed by bloody red. Teeth gleamed at her. Sharp, bloody canines.
Oh God...
She'd heard Jake talking about vampires. She'd never truly believed him. Until now.
She whimpered, her breath a shudder her heart pounding so loud it seemed to echo not only in her ears but through the night itself.
The eyes moved closer. Became a man. A man whose teeth were extending even further. She couldn't scream. Couldn't do anything. Simply stared in horror at the thickset man approaching her. Her heart raced so hard it hurt, and she couldn't seem to breathe fast enough. "Do you know who I am?"
He was the devil come to life. She could think of nothing more apt for the man who stood in front of her. An odd sort of mewling sound rose up her throat, and she edged away. He clamped a hand around her ankle. She kicked at him, but her feet were bare and had little impact. Her blow drew little response beyond a chuckle.
"I'm gathering you don't, so allow me to introduce myself. I am Billie Farmer, the man whose high school years were hell thanks to you and your upmarket cronies."
Her eyes widened at the name. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, even though she felt so cold she was shivering.
His hands were like fire as they slipped up her legs and forced them apart. His fingers stroked her thigh, his touch bruising. Oh god, oh god ... She began to struggle, desperate to get away from his touch, his intentions.
"And now I shall return the favor.” His voice was still conversational. Almost friendly. The chill in her body increased as he continued, “Your final hours here on Earth will make hell seem like a holiday resort."
His teeth dripped blood onto her thigh. It was a liquid heat that seemed to burn like acid. Her breath caught and her heart seemed to stutter to a halt. Then he lowered his head and his teeth sank into her flesh, tearing and sucking, and all she could do was try to scream...
...cold water slapped her face, all but drowning her. Nikki blinked, shuddering, as the link between her and Mary snapped. For several seconds she did nothing more than breathe deeply, trying to ease the fierce churning in her stomach. Trying to ignore the horror and fear pounding through her. God, Mary didn't deserve what this monster was about to do to her. None of these women had. He had to be stopped. She had to stop him. Tonight. No matter what. She wiped her sleeve across her face then looked around. She was at the opposite end of the sofa and no longer held Mary's bra—it was on the floor under the coffee table. She doubted if she'd thrown it there—Jake must have wrenched it free to help break the connection between her and Mary. He moved across the room, a glass of water held in one hand. He squatted in front of her, his fingers shaking as he touched her forehead. “Are you okay?"
She nodded and grabbed the glass he held, drinking it quickly. And noted her hands were shaking almost as much as his.
His gaze continued to search hers. “And Mary?"
She couldn't lie to him, as much as she wanted to. He would never forgive her is she was anything less than honest with him. “He's feeding off her.” She hesitated, fighting the tears that stung her eyes. “I think he intends to suck her dry."
He didn't move, didn't blink. Just continued to stare at her in that remote, angry way of his. “Is she still alive at this moment?"
"Yes."
"How long has she got?"
She hesitated. “I don't know.” But it wouldn't be long, if what she'd seen was any indication. Her spirit might already be walking that foggy plane.
He thrust to his feet. “Then the sooner we get to her the better. You ready to move?" Even if she wasn't, she would. Time was of the essence. She rubbed her forehead then looked at the clock. “We have fifty minutes to get in, get her and get back here." He nodded and swept up the bra, shoving it in a plastic bag before handing it to her. “Where is she?"
