Once again he wasn't telling her everything. “Best for whom? You, or Monica? What right have you to declare such a judgment on her?"
"I am a hunter of evil, Nikki. I track it and kill it, and in the process make the night a safer place for people like you to walk."
"Don't give me that sanctimonious crap. You haven't the right to touch Monica."
"I must, or she will rise to aid Jasper.” This time a hint of impatience colored his quiet words. Her anger rose another notch. “That is, I gather, the name of the man who is after me." He hesitated again. She swore and pushed upright, moving to stand near the wall. Wintry air rushed through the shattered window above her head, but it failed to cool the anger heating her cheeks or the turmoil churning her stomach. Michael knew more than just her hunter's name, so why wouldn't he pulge what he knew? A lack of trust, or something more?
She studied Monica again. At rest, the teenager looked untouched by evil. It was easy to understand why Trevgard refused to see his daughter as anything more than innocent. What would she say to him?
Or to Jake? How could she face them if she allowed Monica to be mutilated? How could she face herself, in the long years of nightmares left ahead?
"I can't,” she stated quietly, finally meeting Michael's watchful gaze. His anger seared her mind.
"You can't stop me,” he warned quietly.
The threat behind his soft words shook her. Though he hadn't moved a muscle, he suddenly seemed so much larger, more threatening. The shadows moved in around him, half hiding his form, making him one with the night and the sense of evil that still haunted the old warehouse. In the blink of an eye, death had stepped into the room and become her companion.
She clenched her fingers, felt energy tingle across her skin. Michael wasn't evil, not in the same sense as the man he'd called Jasper. Yet she couldn't escape the feeling he wasn't entirely on the side of the angels, either.
"Are you willing to kill me to get to Monica?” she said.
His eyes were chips of ebony ice. “Are you willing to die for the sake of evil?" No. But she refused to stand by and let him mutilate Monica's body, either. She owed her that much, at least. “If that's what it takes, yes."
Anger danced around her. She fought to breathe normally, trying not to show the fear tying her stomach into knots. She had a feeling Michael had spent too many years on his own, owing council to few. Sensed he was a mixture of shades—light and dark, good and bad. She just had to hope the shadows in his soul didn't win here tonight.
"Nikki, if this child becomes a vampire, she will be more dangerous than the man who hunts you. Can you live with the death of innocents?"
She stared at him. How could anyone be more dangerous than the man he'd called Jasper?