"This way,” a voice said behind her.
Nikki jumped then turned. A figure emerged from the swirling darkness. Something deep within quivered in recognition. This was Michael Kelly, the man she'd sensed earlier. "Trust me,” he said and held out his hand.
She hesitated, despite the danger of doing so. The dancing brightness of the flames revealed the finely chiseled planes of his cheeks, and a nose that hinted of exotic blood. It was a handsome face. A haunted face. One she could trust—at least for now.
She placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, wrapping them in a heat that was fiercer than any flame.
He led her quickly through the fire and into another room. She kicked the door shut, then saw the only exit was the large window to her left. They'd have to jump.
Shit. Nikki thrust kinetically at the window. The glass burst outwards, glittering like a thousand bright stars as it fell earthward.
Wind rushed into the void, slapping her face like a bucket of cold water. She blinked, and looked at the ground far below. It was a long, long way down...
As if sensing her sudden reluctance, Michael grabbed her, swinging her into his arms.
"No!” she screamed, then shut her eyes as he ran toward the window. He leaped out into the night. The wind whipped around them, and, just for an instant, it felt as if they were flying. The illusion shattered when they hit the ground. The impact wrenched her from Michael's hold and pitched her roughly forward. She rolled down a slight incline and through several plants before coming to an abrupt halt against a fence, rear half buried in the garden bed and legs pointing skyward. For several seconds she just lay there, too stunned to move, just thankful to be alive. She'd bitten her tongue sometime during the fall and could taste blood in her mouth, but other than that, everything seemed in working order.
At least she was free from the house, and the immediate threat of evil. But the man with the hypnotic sapphire eyes was still near—she could feel his presence, hunting her. She'd better get away from this area—fast.
She slowly lowered her legs from the fence. Pain shot along her back, and she groaned softly. No doubt she'd have a colorful array of bruises to parade tomorrow.
"Take my hand."
Every nerve in her aching body jumped. Her heart in her mouth, she glanced up. Michael's form flowed out of the night and found substance. Just like a ghost, Nikki thought with a shiver. Her gaze swept from the blackness of his clothing to his face. Instinct might be telling her to trust this man, but there was something in his eyes that made her wary.
And yet he'd undoubtedly saved her life. “If you were going to throw me out a window,” she muttered.
“You could have at least arranged a softer landing."