He didn't explain how it had happened or why it was dangerous, and she didn't dare ask. Something told her she might not like the answers.
"The door's locked,” Jake said into the silence.
She turned away from Michael and gave another mental push. The door opened gently, and Jake raised a surprised eyebrow.
She shrugged in reply and climbed the steps. Warm air rushed past her legs as she stopped in front of the open door. Light filtered down the stairs at the far end of the hall, but the rest of the house was a no-man's-land of uneasy shadows.
Jake turned on the flashlight and swung the beam left to right, searching the darkness.
"Nothing.” His voice was hushed, as if he too sensed death waiting. “I guess we'd better check upstairs." She fought the sudden rise of her stomach. Death waited upstairs, and she really didn't want to face it again. “After you."
"I cannot go inside,” Michael said quietly. “While you two can give a plausible enough excuse for being here, I can't. I'll wait here and watch for Monica."
Jake motioned her to hurry. She hesitated, glancing back at Michael. “And if she eludes you?"
"I'll warn you,” he replied. “And I want you out fast. Remember, she'll be quicker than a rattlesnake and twice as deadly."
"Thanks. I really needed to know that."
He shrugged. His eyes were as frightening as the house. “Go. Just take care." After a second's hesitation, she stepped through the doorway and followed Jake. They climbed the stairs. At the top, death waited.
"Shit,” Jake said, and stopped in the doorway of the first room. Though warned by the images she'd shared with Michael, her stomach still turned. The bodies were a twisted mass of flesh that no longer resembled anything human. Blood lay everywhere. If it hadn't been for the bits of humanity scattered about, it would have been easy to think some kid had gone wild with a can of red paint.
"Monica obviously had more than one score to settle.” Jake took several steps into the room. “And for a vampire, she's damn messy."
Nikki gave him a sharp glance. His ironic half smile told her he was only trying to make a tough situation somewhat easier. Told her he still refused to believe Monica was a vampire. He picked his way through the smashed furniture and knelt next to what was left of the butler. Why, she had no idea. Certainly there was no hope of life in what was left of him.
Grab some of the wood.