'Not too near the edge,' Michael warned, tugging her away.
She glanced at him. His expression was grim, and he had a cut just above his left eye. Blood trickled down his cheek.
'You're hurt.' She dug a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed carefully at the wound.
'I'm fine.' He brushed her hand away almost impatiently.
She raised her eyebrows at his tone. There was a bleak light in his eyes, and tension flowed through the color of his thoughts. Fear stirred anew. 'What's wrong?'
'Nothing.' His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. A sure sign there was a problem. 'Stay here while I go fetch the bodies.'
He disappeared into the tunnel. She crossed her arms and glared at his back. Something had happened in there, something beyond the vamps attacking them, and it was obvious he had no intention of telling her what.
Damn, he could be frustrating sometimes. She snorted softly. Most of the time, really. If she didn't love him so much, she'd probably kill him.
Sighing slightly, she rested her back against the rock face. The sun trailed warmth across her skin, and she closed her eyes, raising her face in appreciation. Why would anyone give this up for eternal darkness? Even Michael, who was over three hundred and sixty years old, couldn't stand the touch of the sun the entire day.
Yet at least he could walk in sunlight. How long had it taken him? And was there ever a point where a vampire could walk in the noonday sun and survive?
Michael reappeared, carrying the bodies of the two young vampires. They began to smoke the minute the sunshine hit them. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see any more. But it was hard to ignore the smell of burning flesh. Harder still to ignore the images of another time, another teenager, burned to death by the warmth of the waning afternoon sun.
He returned a few minutes later with the remaining two bodies. Smoke plumed skyward, tainting the clear skies.
'People will investigate that,' she said. Yet even as she watched, the breeze dissipated the smoke so that it was little more than a yellow stain.
'By the time anyone of importance gets here, there will be nothing to find. The rocks will not hold a pyre's stain like earth will. Ready to go back?'
'We're not continuing our search for Matthew?' she asked in surprise.
'We can't take the risk now that we've sprung that alarm.' His voice was absent, his attention on the path.
What fascinated him so? Did he sense someone coming? She bit her lip, searching the rocks above them. She could hear distant laughter, and the high pitched squeal of a child, so the hotel wasn't that far away. Yet she could hear or sense nothing close.
He began moving up the path. She scooted after him, but found it difficult to keep up.
'You seem in an awful hurry to get somewhere,' she muttered between gasps for air. 'Care to tell me what's going on?'
'We should not be seen on this trail, just in case someone does come looking for the fledglings.'
A perfectly good answer, but not the real reason behind his haste. Besides, he hadn't even looked at her.
His gaze was focused on the hotel, now visible above them. As if he was looking for someone.
'We going to eat when we get back?' she asked. 'Maybe make out? Do the wild thing in the pool in front of all the other guests?'
'You should eat.'
She snorted softly. Yeah, he was really paying attention to what she was saying. They reached the plateau, but still he didn't slow. She paused, hands on her knees, and took several deep breaths. Her heart was a freight train racing in her chest, and sweat trickled down her face. Michael kept walking.
Either he hadn't noticed she'd stopped, or he didn't care. She swallowed to ease the sudden dryness in her throat—a dryness that had nothing to do with her exertion and everything to do with fear.
Once her breathing had eased a little, she ran after him again. She had no intention of missing whatever it was that had caught his attention so completely.
Meadow grass and wildflowers gave way to the hotel's manicured lawn. He made his way through the gardens and around to the back of the hotel. In the shadows of a large pine he stopped and studied the pool area below them.
There were several people lounging in chairs near the water, and two children splashed in the spa. But it was the woman in the pool, the woman in an itsy-bitsy red bathing suit that he stared at.
Fear stepped fully into Nikki's heart, squeezing it tight. Whoever this woman was, she represented danger —and in more ways than one. That was obvious from Michael's haste to get here.
'Who is she?' she said, her voice little more than a strangled whisper.
'That,' he said softly. 'Is the woman I gave up life for.'
Chapter Thirteen
Nikki stared at him. The tone of his voice told her how much he'd once cared for the woman below.
How much he still cared. Which didn't make sense if this woman was responsible for turning him.
'I loved her, Nikki. I willingly crossed the line.'
She stared at the woman below. How in the hell could she fight someone with that sort of hold on him?
'What are you going to do?'
'Talk to her.' His voice was still absent, but there was a smile in his eyes, as if he were reliving old times.
Nikki clenched her fists against a rush of anger. Railing against fate wasn't going to get her anywhere.
'Then?'
He shrugged. 'What happens then depends very much on her answers.'
'The vampires in the tunnel,' she said in sudden understanding. 'They were hers?'
He nodded.
'Why didn't you tell me? You brought me here to help you, Michael. But, damn it, how can I do that if you won't tell me anything?'
He finally looked at her, but his eyes were as distant as his thoughts. He was still lost in past memories.
'I had to be sure before I said anything. It's been a long time since we've seen each other, and I might have mistaken her scent.'
'But if she's responsible for the vamps in the tunnel, then she might be involved with the kidnappings.'
'Elizabeth likes young men, and she likes her harems, but she's not evil.'
She clenched her fists again and barely resisted the impulse to hit him. 'How can you know something like that? How long has it been since you've seen her?'
His gaze drifted back to the woman in the pool. 'Two hundred years.'
Two hundred years, and still he carried a torch for her. Nikki's throat felt so dry it ached. 'Two hundred years is a long time, Michael. Anything could have happened in that time.'
'She's close to eight hundred years old. If she was going to change, she would have done so long before
I met her.'
