Chapter Eighteen
The footsteps stopped. An eerie silence followed.
Confused, Nikki opened her eyes and looked up. Pain shot through her head at that smallest of movements. She blinked back tears, unable to believe what she saw.
The zombie lay on the concrete ten feet away, its neck twisted at an odd angle. What on earth… ?
'Nikki?' The soft question flowed out of the night.
Nothing but shadows filled the night.
'Are you all right?' Again his whisper cut through the night.
'Yes.' Why didn't he show himself? Was it MacEwan's nearby presence that stopped him? Fear pounded through her heart, and she reached out to the link, only to be stopped by a wall of pain.
'Take care then, little one.' His voice was distant.
Tears trickled past her closed eyelids. Maybe she was a fool for letting him go, but what choice did she really have? She'd always been cursed when it came to love. Jake had managed to survive its touch, but she didn't love him the way she had loved her parents and Tommy. And now Michael.
She had to believe it was better that he left. It was the only way she could survive.
Footsteps approached. She opened her eyes. MacEwan eyed the dead zombie warily, his gun at the ready. The look on his face would've made her laugh any other day.
'The creature near the door is also dead,' he said, nudging the zombie with the toe of his boot. 'Care to explain how it happened?'
'One of those situations that can't be explained.' God, it hurt to think, hurt to move. But she had to do both. She couldn't stay here.
His gaze was disbelieving. Nikki ignored him. She didn't have the energy to even try to explain Michael's intervention.
After a moment, MacEwan shrugged and put his gun away. 'Who am I to question deliverance? Need a hand up?'
She nodded. He clasped her arm and hauled her upright. Pain shot like fire through her brain, and she gasped, fighting the urge to be sick.
'You don't look so good.' MacEwan studied her with a frown. 'Maybe you should go downstairs and let one of the doctors take a look at you.'
She gingerly shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be prodded and poked. She was fine.
Mostly.
'Then at least let me get someone to drive you home…'
They both turned sharply at the sound of the exit door opening. More police officers. She sighed in relief.
'The cavalry, at last,' MacEwan commented dryly.
'Too late, as usual.' She rubbed at her temples. Would the pain ever go away? It was a white-hot fire, eating at her brain.
MacEwan gave her a wry look and waved his men over. 'Would an earlier arrival have saved us? How many men does it take to kill a zombie?'
He laughed, a startling sound in the hushed night. 'Probably.' He turned as an officer approached.
'Jenkins, drive Miss James home, please.'
The young officer nodded. MacEwan turned back to face her. 'I dare say my superiors will want to talk to you about tonight.'
'You know where to find me.' She glanced across at Jake, still safe in the shadows of the chimney.
'Will you get a doctor up here for Jake, as quickly as possible?'
MacEwan nodded and spoke into his handset. Nikki waved away the young officer's offered arm and walked slowly towards the stairs. Every step she took sent lances of fire shooting through her brain. She bit her lip and fought the urge to sit and howl like a baby. It hurt, sure, but pain, in one form or another, was something she was used to, something she'd learned how to handle. Something I no longer want to
'Nikki?' MacEwan called as she neared the door. She glanced back at him. 'If you find the man behind this trouble, give me a call.'
But she felt MacEwan's gaze on her back long after she'd left his presence.
Michael watched her walk away. His heart ached with her pain, yet there was nothing he could do to help her. Nikki had to get over her problems without interference from him. Until she did, there was no hope for them.
Maybe there had never been any hope from the beginning. Maybe he was a fool to ever think otherwise.
He'd long ago stepped past the threshold of humanity and become something more. What made him think he could ever go back?
When she walked through the exit, he turned and moved across to Jake. The younger man was still heavily drugged, but otherwise appeared unhurt. He'd hate to think how Nikki would react if he died now, after all she'd been through to save him. Her dependence on him was frightening. Michael grimaced wryly. If he was being at all honest, it also made him jealous.
Which was another human emotion he could live without, he thought bitterly. That and love.
Several hospital staff came running up, and he stepped away, watching them bustle Jake onto a stretcher. As they took him back downstairs, Michael glanced at the sky. Dawn was beginning to stretch golden fingers through the night. So much had happened, yet so little time had passed. At least Nikki was now safe. Jasper wouldn't attack her with dawn so close. He would be on the run, searching for a place to wait out the day.
Michael turned and walked back to the stairs. It was time to resume his hunt.
The voice whispered through her brain, its touch evil, full of menace. Nikki twisted and turned, desperate to escape. But there was no running from the demons taunting her dreams.
Not even when she awoke.
She sat up on the sofa and studied the living room. Shadows hunched in the corners, but through the window she could see the red and gold tendrils of sunrise spreading across the stormy sky.
She glanced at her watch. She'd been asleep for little more than half an hour.
Evil whispered around her, shimmering through the air, filling her mind with its malice. Her breath caught in her throat, and sweat broke out across her brow. Jasper was coming for her.
She rose quickly. For an instant the room spun, and she grabbed the arm of the sofa, holding on tight.
The spinning eased but not the knife-edged pounding in her brain.
Jasper was coming, and she was without any form of defense. Panic ran through her, closing her throat and making it difficult to breathe. I can't do it. I can't face him alone.
Her gaze fell on her boots. Silver gleamed briefly, firefly-bright in the half-light of morning. But the thought of facing the young vampire with only a silver knife made her mouth go dry. She had no idea if the knives even held enough silver to hurt Jasper. And he could so easily take it from her, without any effort, without any movement. All he had to do was command her to drop it, and she would.
Yet she had nothing else. She sat back down and quickly dragged the boots on, tucking the knives close to her shins. Again malice whispered through the silence. She clenched her fists against a wash of
