"Midnight, apparently."
Witching hour. The time when all things dark and deadly came out to play. Things like Michael. Or Jasper.
She shuddered and lightly rubbed her wrist. In the worst of her dreams, she could still feel Jasper's touch—in her thoughts, and on her skin. But Jasper was dead, burned to ashes by the sun's heat. His evil could never touch her again.
Could never feed off her again.
A chill ran through her. Jasper wasn't the only malevolent being in this world. She couldn't shake the certainty that evil of another kind was on the move in Lyndhurst tonight. And that it was after Matthew Kincaid.
The bass-heavy pounding faded, replaced by a gentler, more romantic song. On the pool deck, teenagers drew close. There was probably more kissing going on than dancing. She looked across to the bar. Matthew was staring at the crowd, his expression a mix of envy and anger. He slammed his drink onto the counter then walked away.
"Heads up. He's on the move."
"Where?” Jake sounded relieved.
Matthew disappeared behind the tent that housed the bar. Nikki broke into a run, keeping to the shadows as she skirted the sweating mass of slow-dancing teenagers. The teenager came into sight, arms swinging as fast as his legs as he strode along the path.
She slowed, not wanting to get too close and attract his attention. “He's heading for the back gate."
"Anyone else in sight?"
"Not unless you want to count the teenagers getting passionate under the trees." Jake snorted softly. “I'll bring my car around. Keep me posted."
"Will do."
Matthew reached the gate and stopped to unlock it. She stepped behind a tree. The kid threw the gate open, then glanced over his shoulder. His look was petulant, like a child who sees candy he knows he can't have.
It wasn't his family making him run, she thought with a grin. It was his hormones. He headed out and turned right. She pressed the two-way, telling Jake, then followed the teenager out the gate.