The smooth surface of the road gave way to uneven bitumen, then the rough timbers of an old wharf. The shadows of the nearby buildings drew close, crowding the narrowing alley. Michael eased the car past a row of Dumpsters then stopped. A building sat before them, squat and ugly. This was it.
He touched her hand, entwining his fingers briefly in hers. Heat flowed, warming the ice in her veins. “I can go in alone,” he said.
She shook her head. She'd never felt afraid of the darkness before, and the boy had somehow taken that from her. One way or another, she had to get it back.
She grabbed the flashlight out of the glove compartment and slowly got out of the car. The wind was bitter, tainted with the smell of fish and putrid rubbish. She dragged the zipper all the way up on her jacket and joined Michael at the front of the car.
Tin rattled noisily along the building's roof, and the wind whistled through the shattered windows lining the first two levels. The distant sounds of traffic were muted, veiled. They might well have been the only two people alive in this part of the world.
"I'll go first, if you like,” Michael said, his voice oddly in tune with the strangeness of the night.
"No. Let me lead. I'll feel danger before it approaches."
"I'm not without some abilities of my own."
"But mine—"
"Just follow me, Nikki,” he stated in a voice that brooked no argument. “For once in your life let someone else take control."
Anger surged. She clenched her fists, somehow resisting the temptation to throw him in the nearby ocean. “Don't you dare say something like that to me. You know nothing about me—not who I am, or what I've been through."
He studied her for a minute, then nodded. “Fair enough. I apologize. I still intend to lead, however." She bit back her retort. He'd already moved ahead of her, anyway. She followed him into the shadows encasing the worn building. It loomed above them like some misbegotten troll frozen in darkness. The forlorn moan of the wind chased goose bumps across her skin. Perhaps it cried for the soul of the teenager locked within. Perhaps it cried for them. She shivered and rubbed her arms. There was no sense of life within the building. No sense of death, either. She turned on the flashlight. Shattered glass gleamed diamond-bright in the light. Nothing moved except the rubbish sent tumbling along the decaying brick walls. Yet something waited.
"Nothing waits except the darkness and Monica, Nikki." He was wrong. Evil had visited this building, even if he wasn't still inside. “I think he's set a trap of some kind."
"Perhaps.” His fingers clasped hers gently. “Why don't you remain with the car?" His hand burned against hers. She squeezed his fingers lightly and shook her head. “I'm no coward."
"I wasn't suggesting you were."