... He stopped abruptly, a cold sensation he might once have named fear running through him. Energy shimmered across his skin—a powerful cord of evil that held Nikki's mind captive. He took the steps two at a time and opened the door. Two men looked up as he entered. One stood near a desk, the other kneeling beside to Nikki, one hand reaching out—
"Don't touch her!"
"What do you mean, don't touch her?” The blond stranger glared at him. Though he hunched over Nikki protectively, he made no further attempt to touch her.
No fool, this one, he thought and knelt on the opposite side of Nikki's prone body.
"You might kill her,” he said tersely, running his right hand a whisper above her body, searching for some chink in the powerful energy shield surrounding her.
He heard the man's sharp intake of breath, but paid him little heed. Nikki's breathing was shallow and erratic, her heart straining under the increasing pressure. A body could survive only so long without the will, the essence, of its being.
If she died, she would be Jasper's.
Power pulsed against his skin like a thousand dancing fireflies. He narrowed his eyes and watched the bright promenade, studying its rhythm. Urgency beat through his heart, but he ignored it. She could die if he hurried—and die if he didn't.
The tempo of the dance faltered, weakening slightly, allowing him access. He reached out to her mind, swiftly following the psychic cord through the darkness.
Fear hit him again when he realized that Jasper was also attempting a mind lock ... and that he was close to succeeding.
Nikki, Nikki, don't look at his eyes! He charged the mental shout with all the power he could. He had to break the magnetic hold his enemy had on her mind.
Why?
Her reply was weak, vague. She was so close to giving in, yet in her own way, still fighting. It was a miracle she'd held out as long as she had.
His eyes are so very ... beautiful.
No! Nikki, look away!