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"I'm sorry,” Jake whispered brokenly. “I'm so sorry." Mary brushed a hand across his head. His hair stirred, as if touched by electricity rather than flesh. “You did what you thought was best. It's not your fault this happened."
"But I could've—"
"No.” Her voice was gentle and somehow ethereal. Though her skin seemed to hold color, there was little substance to her flesh. “It was my time. Destiny cannot be changed. Only the location." Michael had changed her destiny. He'd loved her enough to snatch her from death's arms, and yet here she was, ready to walk away because he refused to share one part of his life. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She was a fool. After everything he'd been through, after everything he'd done for her, he deserved far more consideration than that.
Deserved far better than her.
"You asked for revenge.” Mary looked Nikki's way. “That is what I also wish. Let us be a part of this monster's death."
Fragile wisps of vapor stirred the darkness beyond Mary. More ghosts, probably. Nikki had no doubt it was the other four women Farmer had killed here in San Francisco.
"I'm new to all this. I don't know if I can handle more than one. Especially if I have to touch you all.” Not to mention the fact that standing still when someone like Farmer was around could be extremely dangerous.
"You don't have to touch us."
Nikki glanced down at their joined hands. “Then why do you hold my hand?" Mary's smile was wistful. “Because you needed it. Because I can." The tears spilling down her cheeks became a flood. Nikki drew another deep breath and somehow managed to say, “I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."
"So am I.” Mary brushed a gossamer finger across Jake's damp cheek. “Take care, my love. I'll be waiting for you when it's your turn to cross."
"No, don't—"
Mary faded. Jake made an anguished sound and hugged his wife's body fiercely. The sound of sirens was perilously close.
"Jake, I have to go."
He nodded. Her gaze swept the darkness, seeing mist shimmer in the corner. He wasn't alone, and of that she was glad. She turned and made her way down the stairs. Police cars rounded the corner as she stepped onto the sidewalk. She walked down a couple of shops then stopped, watching the three cars screech to a halt and the officers pile out. The FBI agents were among those who entered the shop. At least Jake would be relatively safe now. She headed to the limo and asked the driver to take her back to the hotel. She'd barely entered her room when electricity shimmered across her skin. Farmer was early. Or maybe he was just checking whether she was still here.
She slipped off the charm and walked into the bedroom. “If you've hurt her, you bastard, I'll kill you." He snorted. “Isn't that what you intended anyway?"
"Yeah, but I'd intended it to be quick. You'll have no such luxury if you've hurt either one of them."
"I haven't hurt them. Just played with them a little." Liar, liar ... God, she hoped Michael was still alive—surely she would have felt it if he'd died? He was a part of her, she a part of him. The two of them were bound together forever, so surely she would feel his passing ... and the very fact she wasn't sure scared the hell out of her. Farmer had already gone back on his word once. There was nothing to say he hadn't done it twice.
"Let them go."
He gave her a Cheshire cat sort of smile. “Have you chosen?" She crossed her arms. There was only one choice now, but he wasn't to know she was aware of that.
“No. And I have no intention of doing so."
"Then they both die."
"No!"
"Then choose."
"How will I know you'll keep your word?"
He gave her that smile again. “You don't."
"Bastard."
"Choose."
She took a deep breath. “Michael."
"Obviously, the fight he mentioned wasn't as deep as he'd feared." If Michael had mentioned their relationship to Farmer, then he was in a bad way. He wouldn't talk to her about it, so why would he do so with a stranger—an enemy?
"Where is he, Farmer?"
