To no avail.
One foot slipped forward, then the other. She screamed in terror as she was slowly forced towards the door.
* * * *
The warehouse was gutted, a blackened shell that stood out starkly against the morning twilight. Michael made his way past the fire engine, and moved on, following the trail along the docks. Jasper's scent was faint. He studied the street ahead uneasily. Something didn't feel right. The trail led past a series of well-lit factories. There was no hiding spot here for Jasper, no hope that he could find an easy feed. The area was too full of people and light. So why had he come here? Why did he meander, when there was so little of the night left? If Jasper intended to feed, he should have done it quickly, then moved on to find shelter and wait out the day.
But he'd been away an hour, and that was a long time when you could move as fast as the wind. Michael frowned and studied the lights ahead. The trail was beginning to take him eastward, into an area of Lyndhurst he did not know. An area on the opposite side of town to Nikki. Michael stopped cold. Nikki . Revenge, it all centered around revenge, she'd said. And she was right. Jasper didn't meander. He'd played him for a fool. God, what a fool! He turned and ran back through the darkness, the night a blur and fear beating through his heart.
All he could do was hope he wasn't too late.
* * * *
"Come in.” The words were forced through gritted teeth.
Tears rolled unhindered down her cheeks as Jasper walked in, angelic and smiling. Their gazes touched, and her heart quailed. Once his eyes had been dead, showing little emotion; now they were consumed by madness. He was over the edge and out of control—but totally in control of her. Jasper walked into the living room and sat casually on the sofa. The leash loosened—but not enough to allow her to run through the door and freedom. Instead, she backed away from the door, backed away from him. She still held the knife—she might yet have the chance to use it.
"Drop it,” he said quietly.
She clenched her fingers around the hilt. The silver burned into her hand, a clean fire that fought the dark chains wrapping tightly around her.
"No. Take it from me if you dare."
He smiled in amusement and locked his hands behind his head, leaning back to study her.
"You think I'm afraid of the toothpick you hold?"
She didn't think anything. She only knew it was important to keep him talking. Michael was out there somewhere. Even though the pain in her head stopped her from contacting him, surely he'd realize something was wrong. He had at the hospital. Sooner or later, he would come to her. He'd promised to keep her safe against Jasper. He'd keep that promise, no matter what. Jasper raised a hand. Power pulsed through the silence, a fiery tendril that wrapped around her. She clenched her teeth, gathering her own energy despite the bitter ache in her head. Jasper laughed, flicking his fingers outwards. Nikki yelped as she was lifted off the ground and flung across the room. She crashed against the wall and slithered to the floor. For a moment, she lay there, struggling to breathe against the fear locking her throat. She'd never beat Jasper. Not in a million years. He was as strong as Michael when it came to mind gifts. Maybe even stronger. But she had to try. Or die.