to speak to the older man.
Michael slipped his arms under her body and carefully lifted. She was light. Too light, really. How in hell did she manage to maintain the energy needed to feed her psychic gifts when there was so little of her?
He took her into the next room and laid her carefully on the old couch that dominated one wall of the small storeroom. She stirred and opened her eyes.
'Don't leave me,' she murmured.
Her gaze was filled with shadows and fear. He smiled and sat beside her. She shifted slightly, using his leg as a pillow. Closing his eyes, Michael carefully reached into her mind, calming the surface turmoil, stilling her fears—at least enough to allow her to sleep peacefully for several hours. That he could do this without her knowing spoke of her desperate need for rest.
He opened his eyes and gazed at her. She looked so young lying there, almost childlike. Yet he'd caught the occasional whisper of thought that spoke of a harsh past. He caressed her forehead, her skin like satin against his fingertips. Though he knew he could not afford to get more involved than he was, he found himself wishing again that he had the time to learn more about her.
But that was a freedom he'd lost long ago, and it was too late now for regrets.
Darkness drifted through her dreams. It filled her mind, washing corruption through her soul. She fought it, desperate to be free. Yet she couldn't break the chains holding her captive.
In the distance she heard a voice whisper her name. She turned toward the sound, following it desperately through the darkness.
Awareness surfaced. A door slammed in the front office. Trevgard, Nikki thought, and knew by the sudden leap of tension in the main office that both his patience and his temper were growing thin. She also became aware of Michael, of the firmness of his thigh against her cheek, the gentleness of his fingers caressing her forehead. Of his scent, an odd mixture of spice and earthiness.
Much too aware.
She sat up abruptly. Averting her gaze from his, she pushed her hair back behind her ears. How did you react to a man who had saved your life and yet was still so much of an enigma?
'A simple thank you would be sufficient,' he said quietly.
She glanced up sharply. 'I've never met anyone who can read my thoughts as easily as you appear able to.' Tommy had been able to read her thoughts, but not so easily, unless she'd been angry or tired.
Michael shrugged, ebony eyes regarding her warily. 'Telepathy is a strong gift in my family. Over the years, I've honed its use.'
She had an odd feeling he wasn't speaking of blood relatives when he spoke of family. She frowned, but turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Jake opened the door and entered the room 'Thought I heard voices,' he commented, stopping just inside the doorway. 'I hate to have to rush you, Nik, but—' 'Trevgard's getting anxious,' she finished with a sigh.
'I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Want a cup?'
'Yes.' She tried to ignore the ache that ran through nearly every muscle and pushed to her feet.
'Michael?'
'If it's strong and black, I'll drink it.'
He stood quickly, touching her elbow as she swayed slightly. She smiled her thanks and moved into the office, aware of Michael close behind her. Ready to catch her if she fell, she thought wryly, though her weakness was no joke.
Jake placed her coffee on the desk. Michael accepted his cup with a nod and sat on the edge of her desk.
Trevgard swung around to face her as Jake returned the coffeepot to the hot plate. 'So tell me, did you find Monica or not?'
Nikki sighed. 'Yes, I found her.' She didn't mention the fact that Monica might be dead. She didn't have the strength to face the old man's fury right now.
'And?' he demanded.
'And I'll try to bring her back with me.'
She looked at Michael warily, wishing she knew more about him. Instinct told her to trust him, yet there was something about him that made her uneasy. She would not refuse his help, however. Nothing on this earth could make her go into that building alone to find Monica. Not with a young madman on the loose, wanting her.
'Then you really can find my daughter?' Trevgard's voice was an odd mixture of hope and anger.
She returned her attention to him. 'I think so. I've got a general idea of direction; it's just a matter of driving around until I find the right building.'
'Then what went wrong before?' Jake asked, moving back to his desk.
'Ever heard of out-of-body experiences?'
Jake nodded. 'Never believed them, of course.'
She smiled. He hadn't believed in psychic talents, either, until they'd saved his life. 'It was something akin to that. Except my spirit, soul, metaphysical body—whatever you want to call it—was forcibly drawn away from my body and trapped.'
'How?'
'I honestly don't know.' But she wished she did, so she could prevent it from happening again.
'It took a lot of psychic power to create and hold that net,' Michael commented quietly.
Nikki regarded him thoughtfully. 'And a lot strength to pull me in. Yet he still had enough left to hold the intensity of the web as long as he did.'
Jake's eyebrows rose. 'Web?'
She took a sip of her coffee, then nodded. 'Yes. A net of some sort held me captive. I don't know what he was trying to achieve. I wasn't really there. He couldn't physically harm me.'
Though he could have killed her, had he held the net long enough.
'Control.' Michael's expression was grim when it met hers. 'He was after control.'
'So I wouldn't be able to fight him if we ever met.' Cold fear ran down her spine. She had come so close.
'The man's a fiend,' Jake swore and rubbed the back of his neck. 'I don't suppose you can give a description to the police?'
'Yes. Whether they'll believe it is another matter.'
Jake grimaced. 'Our reputation's not exactly solid where they're concerned.'
Trevgard made no comment, but she knew from the look in his eyes that their reputation was not one hundred per cent where he was concerned, either.
Smiling grimly, she said, 'And it's not a man we're after, Jake. It's a boy.'
Only Michael showed no surprise. Nikki had a feeling he'd known about the madman's youth long before she had.
'A boy?' Jake asked incredulously.
She nodded. 'All of maybe sixteen. As solid as a brick wall and as mad as a March hare.'
Jake sighed and scratched at the ginger stubble lining his chin. 'Just what we need. Another psychotic in Lyndhurst.'
'Lyndhurst specializes in this sort of thing, does it?' Michael asked, the mild amusement in his voice at odds with the sudden interest in his face.
Jake gave him a sour look. 'Lately it seems to.'
'Enough!' Trevgard's gravely voice cut in. 'This is not doing anything to find my daughter.'
Though she hated admitting it, he was right. She finished her coffee and rose. Trevgard took several steps forward, his body radiating the anger she could feel in his thoughts. He was ready for a confrontation. Wanted it.
'I'm coming,' he announced. 'I'll not run the risk of losing her a second time.'
His company was the last thing she needed. She'd be too aware of his anger and disbelief to concentrate on the fragile images that would lead her to Monica.
