She frowned. Why in the hell would I do that?
It's wood, Nikki. Michael's mental tone was brusque. Deadly to vampires in any form. She picked up the smashed leg of a chair. A little too thick perhaps, but nicely jagged at one end ... She blanched and almost dropped it. Where the hell had that thought come from?
Keep it. You have no other way to protect yourself should Monica attack. I can run.
She is the wind.
She clutched the leg tightly. Jake rose from examination of the old man's body, his face pale.
"Well, if she used a knife to create this mess, there's certainly no immediate evidence of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The police are going to love this." "We have to stop her, Jake, not the cops.” She motioned towards the two bodies. “They won't understand what they're dealing with."
"Nikki, we're not even sure what we're dealing with." She shrugged. If the sight of these bodies didn't convince him, nothing would.
"We still have to find something holding Monica's vibes."
"We'd better be out of this house before the cops and Trevgard get here,” Jake muttered sourly. “Or there will be hell to pay."
"Especially when he discovers his precious little daughter has become a vicious killer."
"There's no direct evidence that it's Monica, Nik. Remember that.” He motioned her out the door. “If I recall rightly, the bedrooms are situated at the other end of the house." She followed him back down the stairs, glad to be free of the room and the nauseous smell of death. Monica's on the prowl, Michael's warned softly. She's heading toward the house. Can you stop her?
Only if you want me to sacrifice Trevgard. He's cruising up the driveway. Hell. Nikki massaged her temples. This was all they needed. Look after Trevgard. We'll grab what we need and get out of here.
Hurry Nikki. You haven't much time.
Jake touched her arm, and she started.
"You all right?"