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"Remember that most vampires can easily read and control a human mind. People might have been sent down here to investigate, but maybe they report back only what they're told to report back.” Michael glanced over his shoulder. Nikki was studying the shadows behind them, her thoughts a haze of rising dread.
I know they're close, Nikki. We have to move as quickly as we can. We won't make it.
Had he been alone, he would have. But she knew that as much as he did. We can try. She studied him for a moment, thoughts closed to him, then nodded and moved back to his side. He wrapped his fingers through hers again and entered the cell.
Dale Wainwright lay on filthy straw in one corner of the small room. She was naked, curled up like a babe, her breathing rapid, pulse weak and irregular. Even though he wasn't using the infrared of his vampire vision, he could see the bruises marring her torso and legs. She'd been sexually assaulted more than once already.
Anger rose like a wave. He'd never understood the mentality that enjoyed inflicting pain on others—even though he'd been turned by a woman who'd certainly thrived on it. But at least Elizabeth had restricted her games to those she'd turned. Most of the time, anyway.
Jake's soft curse filled the night, a sound Michael felt like echoing. Nikki disentangled her fingers from his and hurried over.
"Dale's alive.” She stripped off her sweater and draped it over the other woman. “But she needs help fast. Jake, you got your cell phone handy?"
"Certainly have."
Behind them, the darkness came alive with the sensation of evil. The time to escape or to call for help had slipped away. Michael wrapped a hand around the phone, preventing Jake from dialing.
"Wait,” he said softly. “Because we are no longer alone."
Chapter Six
A blanket of evil wrapped around Nikki's senses, almost smothering her. She rose slowly and studied the darkness beyond the cell door. Though she could hear or see no movement, she knew they were there. She could smell them. It was almost as if the air recoiled from their presence. Jake pulled the gun from his pocket. The sound of the safety being clicked off was almost bullet loud.
“What now?” he asked, voice soft but harsh.
Whether that came from anger or fear she wasn't sure. Michael's gaze skated past Jake and met hers.
"Fledglings,” he said, voice as expressionless as his face. “I'll face them alone. You two stay here."
"You can't,” Jake said.
"Definitely not,” she echoed. She crossed her arms and stared at him defiantly. The link between them was void of emotion, which only meant he was controlling himself very tightly. “You can't face six of them alone."
"I've done it before."
"And still bear the scars,” she retorted. “Stop letting your concern for me overwhelm common sense." His annoyance briefly seared her mind, even though his expression remained impassive. He stared at her a moment longer, then said, “Very well."
Unease stirred. He had to be up to something because he'd never give in so easily otherwise. Power spiked her senses, then the darkness swirled around him, whisking him from sight. A heartbeat later the door slammed closed.
Anger surged, as did kinetic energy, crackling like lightning across her fingertips. If he thought a closed door would stop her, he was sorely mistaken...
This is my job, Nikki. This is what I do. Let me do it without having to worry about you. We're full partners or we're nothing. The sooner you accept that fact, the better off we'll be. He didn't answer. The sound of fighting filled the air, punctured with grunts of pain and the snarl of things not long dead.
"Damn fool,” Jake muttered. “Nikki, get that door open."
"Willingly.” She flung out her hand. The pent-up energy surged, wrapping the door in sparks. She pulled back and wrenched the door off its hinges.
Air stirred, rushing at them.
"Vamp!” She hit him with a lance of kinetic energy, thrusting him back against the wall. “Nine o'clock high."
Jake fired the gun. There was a howl of pain then shadows unraveled, revealing a leather-clad vampire. Jake's shot had taken him in the shoulder. His eyes were bloody, hostile, showing little sign of the human he'd been as he struggled against her hold. Jake fired again. The vampire's head jerked back, and blood and other matter splattered the wall behind him. She let him drop and briefly closed her eyes, trying to control her rising nausea. Would seeing someone die, human or not, ever get easier?
She hoped not. At least it meant part of her was still human, no matter what else she had become. Air stirred again, stronger this time. “Two more,” she warned, and kinetically picked up the door, throwing it sideways at the vamps.
There was a grunt of pain, then the sound of a body hitting the wall. Several more gunshots bit into the night. Then she was hit and thrust backwards onto the ground, the weight of someone—or something—holding her down.
The shadows rolled back, revealing the gaunt, needy face of a man who looked no more than twenty. He was snarling, canines extended and dripping, his body quivering with the force of his bloodlust. Memories of another time and another vampire, rose, but she thrust them away and raised her fist. He caught the blow long before it landed and twisted her wrist brutally. Agony tore up her arm, almost blinding in its intensity. Then his teeth sank into her flesh, and horror filled her as he began to greedily suck her life away.
