I fear revenge is not his only intention.
"Temperature has jumped again," Jake said, voice edged with concern. "If Nikki's doing this, something is wrong down there."
Camille glanced at Michael. "One more degree to go, and then I'm stopping it, whether you like it or not."
"Fine." Nikki wouldn't like it, but Jon and Marcus were still in the room, and the heat was reaching levels that suggested Nikki didn't have it under control. And if it wasn't under control, then anyone in that room could become a target of the flames.
To Seline, he said, When we were in San Francisco, you had a vision that mentioned someone seeking revenge for what I did to his brother. You said he was a brother who had kissed the night good-bye. I take it this is Weylin Dunleavy? And that he's a vampire who can walk in the sun?
Yes. He's also a sorcerer, and he plans to make us pay for what we did—pay in pain, as that vision warned.
The shadows moved in on Nikki. She backed away, ducking Lenny's blows and throwing several of her own. The vampire might be little more than an indistinct blur, but she was just as fast. He's had a hundred years to plan, Seline continued, and now the time for action has come. The words seemed to echo through Michael's mind. On the monitors, Lenny backhanded Nikki, the force of the blow enough to send her staggering. Somehow, she kept her feet, and she wiped a hand across her mouth. That's when he saw the blood.
That's when her fear crystallized in his mind.
Lenny was another plant.
"Get that door open!" he shouted, and then he turned and ran for the stairs.
* * * *
Nikki hit the wooden box nose first. She grunted in pain, but she pushed quickly away, dropping to her knees as the scream of air warned of another blow. As his fist stirred the hairs on the top of her head, she lashed out with a foot, trying to hook his leg and bring him down. He jumped her leg, then pivoted, his heel smashing into her jaw. She flew backwards, hitting another box before sliding to the floor in an ungainly heap. The room whirled around her, and her face throbbed, the bitter taste of blood filling her mouth. She took a shuddering breath, but it did little to ease the sick churning in her stomach. Her heart raced so bad it hurt, and energy surged in response, the sheer force of it making every muscle shake. Or maybe that was fear. But across her trembling fingertips fire flickered, casting bright shadows through the dusky light.
It shouldn't be happening, not in this room.
She felt rather than saw movement, and she scrambled away on all fours. A hand twined through her hair, yanking her viciously back. She yelped, fighting fear, fighting the flames that burned brighter through her veins.
"Hey," Jon said behind them, "I think that's enough."