Or was she? Nikki frowned and walked into the kitchen. Last night she'd seen the enormous power behind Michael's gifts. He'd never said he couldn't find Monica. She stopped in sudden horror. Had last night been little more than a convenient way to tire her and make her sleep?
Pain stabbed through her heart. That last time couldn't have been a lie. Their minds had entwined too closely for any lie to survive.
And yet, with the strength of Michael's gifts, how could she ever be sure? Tommy had been able to make her believe he cared, and he'd only possessed a tenth of Michael's abilities. She crossed her arms and stared at the smoke-stained wall. Why did it matter so much anyway? One night, that was all she'd asked for, all she'd wanted. One night free from Jasper's taint. Michael had surely given her that.
So why did she suddenly feel so cheated? Especially when she'd been the initiator? She'd only seduced Michael to run Jasper's dark whispering from her mind. But something in his touch had made her feel cherished. Loved, even.
She closed her eyes at the thought. Because it was nothing more than a lie. He'd warned that he couldn't love her and that he couldn't stay. He'd given her last night, but he couldn't give her anything more. It was totally foolish to even want something more. People died when she cared too much, and she didn't want to see him dead.
The kettle whistled shrilly into the silence. She made a cup of coffee then picked it up and walked back into the living room. The newspaper lay on the sofa, and headlines leaped out at her. Three more dead in Highgate!
She took a gulp of coffee, almost scalding her throat in the process. Monica had to be stopped, before she could slake her thirst on more innocents. She put the cup down and shoved a hand into her pockets, dragging out the locket she'd swiped from Trevgard's. Obviously, Jasper hadn't bothered searching her when he'd stripped her.
Dark laughter flickered through her thoughts, and her pulse rate jumped. She swallowed uneasily, but knew she had no choice. Monica had to be found. She wrapped her fingers around the locket. A chill chased horror through her mind. Monica's evil had grown. Images pushed forward, but she held them at bay and sat down.
Only then, after taking a deep breath, did she open her mind to hell. Darkness flooded her senses. Through it, she heard the faint strains of music ... an organ . Frowning, she tried to broaden the view. She needed an exact location, not merely the sounds and images of Monica's den.
A man dressed in black ... the cross. Two old cypress trees dusted with snow ... the pictures gradually formed into an area she recognized. Monica hid in the bowels of an old church up in the hills. She smiled at the absurdity of it. Yet what better hideaway could Monica find? No one expected a vampire to hide in such a place. Not even Michael...
What place?
She jumped. The question sounded so clear he might as well have been standing right next to her. She put her hand on her chest, and took a deep breath to calm the rapid pounding of her heart. Nikki, what place? Where is Monica?
In a church. An honest answer, but not one that would help him. There were at least twenty churches scattered in and around Lyndhurst. It would take them forever to find the right one. Where is the church, Nikki?
Annoyance seared her. She smiled grimly. Good. Maybe next time he'd think twice about leaving her behind ... But there wasn't going to be a next time, was there?
Nikki?