"Maybe. Maybe not.” There was an odd mix of uncertainty and hope in her eyes. He smiled and pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. For now, that mix was enough. At least she'd seen beyond her guilt and released some of her pent-up pain.
The deaths in her past would no longer be a weapon for Jasper to use. It might not be much, but it was a start.
She gently touched the silver cross resting against his chest. “Where did you find it?"
"In the tunnel.” Fear danced lightly through her thoughts. He placed his hand over hers, pressing her fingers against the flesh above his heart. “Do you want it back?" She hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Keep it, if you want." He did want. It was a small piece of her he could take with him when he left. He glanced at the clock. Seven o'clock. Time enough, perhaps, to ease the ache of the past and create a final memory to last a lifetime.
He met her gaze. There was understanding in her eyes, acceptance in her thoughts. Just one more time, he vowed, and reached for her.
Chapter Twelve
The morning light washed across her face, painting her pale skin gold. Michael smiled and brushed the stray lock of hair away from her cheek. She looked so much younger in sleep, almost childlike. Yet the image was a lie. Nikki was an old spirit in a young body. Her parents’ death and her brief time with Tommy had forced her to grow up far too early. She'd lived through the nightmare and somehow survived. Maybe now that she'd finally confronted her memories and guilt, she'd be able to do more than that. Maybe now she'd live—and love—without fear.
He eased his arm out from under her head and watched her snuggle into the blankets. Lord, he didn't want to leave her. Not now, not in the future. But he no choice about either. He ran a hand through his hair and looked away. This morning had been a mistake. He should never have touched her a second time, should never have let their minds entwine so strongly. For now he could no longer deny he was human, with human wants and needs.
He'd played with fire and lost his heart.
He rose from the bed and moved across to his clothes. Jasper had to be his first priority, now more than ever. He couldn't risk the fiend capturing her again. Anger washed through him, and he savored its taste. It would help him hunt this morning.
But anger did little to erase Jasper's stain from her mind. While her mind might merge with his and make them one, Michael knew he could never hope to control her.
But neither would Jasper. He'd do whatever it took to prevent her becoming a puppet to Jasper's desires. Even if it meant killing her. At least then Jasper wouldn't be able to call her back from the dead. It was only his own victims he could recall.
The thought sent a chill through his soul. He heard soft steps coming down the hall, and tensed. After a moment, he realized it was only Jake. He finished buttoning his shirt, then moved back to the bed. Bending, he gently kissed her cheek. She stirred and murmured something, but her thoughts were full of warmth and contentment. For the moment, at least, she was free from Jasper's taint. But how long would it remain that way?
He had no idea, and it worried him. If Jasper called—truly called with the full force of his vampire abilities—what would happen? In three hundred years of existence he'd met no one who could resist such a call. But then, until Nikki, he'd met no mind he could not fully control. Maybe her psychic strength would give her an edge where all others had failed.
Damn it, he had to find Jasper first and kill him. And Monica was the key. If he knew his enemy, the teenager would be on her own by now. Jasper very rarely kept his women, turned or not, for more than a week or so.
But she would know where her master was, and one way or another, Michael intended to get that information out of her before she died.