Chapter Thirteen
Swallowing heavily, Nikki stepped inside. She reached into her pocket and dug out Monica's bracelet. It pulsed lightly against her palm, a muted beat that would lead her straight to the teenager.
She moved forward quietly. There were no windows in the small corridor, and the gloom closed in. She resisted the urge to turn on the flashlight, knowing the proximity of the voices meant there was a chance they'd see it.
A cobweb trailed against her face, and she jumped sideways. Her yelp became a squeak as she bit down on it. Heart pounding unevenly, she stopped and listened. The soft murmuring in the other room continued unabated.
Sighing silently, she walked on. The corridor ended at a set of stairs. She hesitated, stomach suddenly churning. She'd climbed a similar set of stairs to escape Jasper's clutches. Oh God, was he here as well?
She couldn't feel his presence, only Monica's, but the fear that she was walking blindly into another trap was a cold weight in the pit of her stomach.
She turned on the flashlight and shone it into the gloom. The dust-caked steps showed no trace of footsteps, yet she could feel Monica's presence in the darkness below.
Could vampire's fly? Bile rose in her throat. She closed her eyes, swallowing heavily. It was ridiculous to think vampires could fly. They didn't have to, when they could move faster than the eye could see.
What if Monica was awake and waiting for her? The rhythmic beat in the bracelet spoke of slumber, but how could she be sure a vampire's heartbeat was in any way the same as a human's?
Sweat beaded her forehead. Biting her lip, she walked slowly down the stairs. Dust stirred, a cloud that stung her eyes and nostrils. She wrinkled her nose, fighting a sneeze. The door at the bottom of the stairs was closed. She touched the handle, then hesitated again. What if Jasper was here? What would she do?
Probably die of heart failure. If she was lucky.
The bracelet told her nothing. Nor could she really expect it to—it was Monica's, not Jasper's. Mouth dry, she turned the handle and opened the door. The air that rolled out to greet her was thick with age and a musty dampness that spoke of leaking pipes. She swept the light across the layers of darkness. It revealed the slimy floor but little else.
A hand came down on her shoulder, and her heart almost stopped.
She screamed and spun, only to find the priest she'd seen earlier in the church grounds.
She swallowed and gave him a somewhat shaky smile. 'Father, you gave me a fright.'
'It was not my intention, I assure you.' His voice was gentle, as if he feared he was talking to someone not quite sane. 'I merely wanted to know what you were doing down here.'
Should she lie? She eyed him for a moment then decided against it. Something in his green eyes told her he's seen enough of life to know the truth from a lie.
'I'm a private investigator.' She pulled her wallet out of her jacket and shone the flashlight on her license.
'I got a tip that an escaped criminal was hiding in your cellar.'
The priest frowned. 'I don't see how. The doors are kept locked, and I've seen no one strange about.'
No one but herself, she surmised from his look. 'The side door and this one were both open, Father.
Have you checked them lately?'
'Not this one.'
'Then my informant may be right.' She glanced over her shoulder. Something stirred in the darkness—or was it only her imagination?
'Is this criminal dangerous?'
Why wouldn't he just leave? If Monica stirred, the priest was in danger. Nikki doubted if his robes would offer much protection. 'Yes, she's dangerous.'
'Then I think we should call the police.'
She glanced back to the dark cellar. At least the priest would be out of the way if he went to call the police. And maybe it would be better if the cops were the ones to drag Monica into the sunlight and death. As long as they arrived well before sunset, there shouldn't be any sort of danger.
With Monica out of the way, the only nightmare left would be Jasper.
Foreboding pulsed across her skin. 'Call them, then. Tell them Monica Trevgard is trapped in this basement. I'll stay here to ensure she doesn't escape.'
His gaze widened at the mention of Monica's name, then he nodded and moved back up the stairs.
Nikki watched his retreat. Did he know Monica? Maybe she should warn him what might happen…
She shook her head and leaned against a wall. Priest or not, he wouldn't believe her.
The minutes ticked by, and the silence grew heavier. She glanced at her watch. Perhaps the priest had decided to call the loony bin first, just to ensure she wasn't an escaped nutcase.
She cast her senses into the basement, checking that Monica was still there. The wash of evil was answer enough.
A few minutes later she heard the sirens. Yet she couldn't escape the notion that something was wrong, that she was doing something she shouldn't. But they had to get rid of Monica, for everyone's safety.
Didn't they?
Footsteps pounded down the hall. She rubbed her arms, wishing they'd hurry.
MacEwan clomped down the steps and stopped beside her. 'This better not be one of your tricks.'
His breath washed over her, and she screwed up her nose. Too bad garlic didn't effect vampires. 'It's not. She's all yours.'
She offered him her flashlight, but he shook his head and produced one of his own. 'Jenkins, make sure she stays put. You other two, follow me.'
The three men stepped into the basement. The darkness closed around them; only the bobbing light gave away their position. She clenched her fists, half-expecting Monica to wake and try to escape. But no sound broke the silence except for the occasional footstep.
Minutes later, Jenkins' two-way buzzed.
'Call the paramedics in, Jenkins.' MacEwan's voice sounded annoyed, even over the two-way. 'And get them to bring down a stretcher. The girl isn't looking so good.'
'And Miss James?'
'Tell her to stay put, or her ass is mine.'
The young officer glanced at her. Nikki smiled sourly. 'Message received. My ass ain't moving.'
He grinned slightly then headed back up the stairs. Nikki shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting uneasily in the darkness. She wanted to go into the cellar and see Monica for herself, but knew MacEwan had meant what he said.
Though with Jasper still on the loose, maybe jail was the safest place to be.
Jenkins returned a few minutes later, but Nikki felt no safer with his large presence next to her. She glanced at her watch. If MacEwan didn't move Monica soon, he might well find himself trying to control a very angry, and very awake, vampire.
Footsteps sounded down the hall. Two paramedics pounded past them and disappeared into the darkness. More minutes ticked by.
Finally, MacEwan reappeared. The two paramedics carried Monica on the stretcher just behind him, with the two police officers following them.
She let the five men pass then followed them up the stairs. The teenager looked more dead than alive.
She was limp, boneless, her skin pallid and unhealthy looking. Nikki frowned. Something didn't feel right…
She crossed her arms. However Monica might look, she was still a monster. Like the fiend she called a lover, Monica enjoyed the terror she inflicted on her victims. It had been all too obvious in her eyes when she'd attacked both her and Jake.
