Jake gave her the bracelet, sealed in a plastic bag. He knew from past experience that too many people handling an object spoiled her ability to get a strong reading. She sat down, stomach suddenly churning. She'd done this a hundred times before. It was simple. Easy.
But never before had her life been at risk.
She frowned at the thought and tore open the plastic, dropping the delicate gold bracelet into her hand. Her skin tingled as she closed her fingers around the charms, pressing them into her palm. Shutting her eyes, she reached for the place in her mind that could call forth the images locked within the bracelet. Gradually, they came.
A factory. Three floors. Broken windows. Dark. Her mind seized the pictures, storing them for examination at a later point. She had to go with the flow or lose it. She didn't have the strength for a second try.
The smell of the sea ... creak of boats. Inside ... evil. She recoiled. Oh God, he's here!
Panic seized control, and for an instant, the images faltered. Now she understood her earlier intuition. Evil was here in the darkness—and hunting her. Her fingers twitched against the bracelet, but she fought the instinct to break the contact. Time was running out for Monica. She had to find her quickly, and this was the only way of doing it.
And surely the man she feared couldn't harm her spirit. Could he? Sweat broke out across her brow, but she reached again for the images.
Stairs ... a basement. Two rooms, three. In the fourth one, Monica. Naked. Unconscious but alive. Something hit Nikki hard, drawing her into darkness, snaring the very essence of her soul as securely as a fly in a web.
And the spider laughed in demonic delight.
Chapter Four
Only the harsh notes of her breathing broke the silence.
There was nothing to see, nothing beyond a deep void of darkness. Yet something or someone was near. She rubbed her palms down her thighs and wondered what sort of game was about to be played. Soft laughter stirred the satin cover of night, filling the void with its corruption. She closed her eyes. He was here—in the cage that had captured her spirit—and there was no escape. Energy pulsed above her head, a net of power that somehow held her prisoner. If she stayed here too long, she would die.
Was that his aim?
Sweat trickled down her back. Fists clenched, she watched a golden shaft of light spread across the darkness. It revealed a makeshift bed. On it lay Monica.
There was no sense of death, yet she could see no sign of life. It was almost as if the teenager hovered somewhere between the two. Shivering in apprehension, she wondered what other surprises her abductor had in store for her.
As if in answer to her question, laughter slid around her. Heart working overtime, she turned. He flowed into existence from a patch of midnight, a maneuver that reminded her oddly of Michael. But the man before her now—no, he was more a boy, albeit boy with the physique of a body builder. He appeared maybe fifteen, sixteen years old, but he was strong. Powerful. Hauntingly beautiful ... and totally evil.