that doorway—no sane person would—but she had to. She was here to do a job, to stop a killer, and something in that room might provide a clue.
Gathering her courage, she stepped to the door and wrapped her fingers around the handle. After taking a deep breath to calm the churning in her stomach, she carefully opened the door.
For a moment, she simply couldn't believe what she was seeing. It looked for all the world like some youngster had gone crazy with a can of paint. Red was sprayed across the walls in insane patterns, and dripped steadily from a thickening blotch on the ceiling. Two men were covering body parts with white sheets, a tough task when there were so many parts, many of them no longer resembling anything human.
Her gaze went to the window. When she saw what was sitting on the sill, she put a hand to her mouth, holding back a scream that seemed to stick somewhere in her throat. Then her stomach rose, and all she could do was run—from the horror of the room, from the overripe smell of blood, and from the grotesque remains on the sill.
Remains that were the image of her .
Chapter Seven
Nikki got as far as the side of the building. Once there, she lost what little she'd eaten over the day.
When there was nothing more than dry heaves left, she stumbled to the back of the building and sank to the ground, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.
Dunleavy was sick.
Though she'd never doubted it, she now had proof positive. What manner of man could do something like that? God, he had to be insane. Inhuman…
The thought stopped her cold. Dunleavy wasn't human, and he couldn't be judged by those standards.
He was a vampire, a worshipper of dark Gods, and a shape changer.
A monster.
And monsters didn't think like the rest of humanity. Jasper had certainly proven that .
'Are you all right?'
Michael's voice rose out of the night, soft yet filled with concern. Wishful thinking , she thought. He was probably too busy tracking down Kinnard to worry about what she was doing right now.
'Are you all right?' he repeated, his voice, and his concern, nearer. Sharper.
Suddenly he was beside her, his fingers pressing warmth into her cheeks as he held her face. 'What's wrong?'
She opened her eyes. He knelt in front of her, eyes rich with worry. She touched his lips with her fingertips, trailing them down his chin and neck, and pressing them against his chest. His heart beat a rhythm that could only be described as erratic for a vampire.
She smiled, remembering another time, another place, when she'd echoed those exact same thoughts and actions. Something flickered in his eyes, and just for a moment, she thought she saw a touch of recognition. Then the spark died, leaving only normal concern.
But perhaps there lay part of her answer—by following patterns of the past and forcing memories to surface, maybe she'd undermine the spell set on him.
'Damn it, woman, will you answer me?'
Her gaze jumped to his. The concern in his eyes was stronger. As much as the spell was trying to force him to, he wasn't treating her as a stranger. 'Can't you smell the blood?'
'Its sweetness rides the air,' he said. 'But right now, the source of that nectar is not my major concern.'
His words made her heart do strange things. Lord, how she loved this man. 'I'm okay. I just need a drink.'
'Then you shall have it.'
He rose and disappeared, but he was back within minutes with a small bottle of water. He must have raided Kinnard's store to get it, because she couldn't imagine the hotels selling plastic bottles of water.
Surely it wouldn't be in keeping with the feel Dunleavy was trying to achieve.
He handed her the water and sat beside her on the ground. His arm brushed against hers, and warmth pulsed through her body, erasing the chill, calming the churning.
'What happened in there?' he asked, thumbing toward the building at their back.
'I made a major mistake.'
He frowned. 'What do you mean?'
She took a gulp of water, swished it around her mouth, and then spat it out. 'Kinnard told me when I arrived here earlier that Dunleavy would sacrifice two men at midnight if I did not rescue them. I thought they were the two people I knew would die tonight—' 'How did you know two people would die?'
She hesitated. 'It's preordained.'
He raised a dark eyebrow. 'Fate can always be changed.'
'Not this one,' she said glumly. And she should have known better than to blindly trust that someone like Dunleavy would play by the rules. 'Anyway, I thought the two destined to die would be the two Dunleavy mentioned, which is why I was looking for them.'
He gave her a speculative look—the sort of look that suggested he knew she wasn't telling the entire truth. 'This town is full of men. How did you intend to define the search?'
She hesitated again, not sure how much she could safely tell him. Dunleavy had probably guessed she'd try and tell Michael the truth, and he would have factored some sort of counter into the spell holding Michael's memories hostage. 'Because the missing men are rangers.'
'Ah.' He considered her a moment longer, then said, 'So, if two are to die tonight, was it their bodies in that room?'
Images of blood and gore and shredded body parts flitted through her mind. She shuddered and took a hasty swallow of water. It only seemed to stir her agitated stomach more.
'One definitely wasn't. Hard to say if there was another.'
'Why?'
'Because there are bits everywhere.'
'He tore the body apart?' There was no surprise in Michael's voice. But then, why would there be? She knew he'd seen far worse in his time, though he'd never really discussed it with her.
She nodded.
'That doesn't make sense if he needed the body for a ritual.'
No, it didn't. She frowned, forcing herself to look beyond the gore in her memories. 'He left a head on the windowsill.' She hesitated. 'It could have been my twin.'
Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Warmth leeched from his fingers and body, chasing away the chills that still ran through her. 'He's trying to scare you.'
'He damn well succeeded.'
'You're tougher than that. It's merely the shock of it that got to you.'
And how.
'Was there only one head?' he continued.
'One is more than enough, believe me.'
'Not if two were meant to die tonight.'
'There was lots of blood. And blood dripping from the middle of the ceiling.' She hesitated, swallowing more water before adding, 'The roof.'
'The roof,' he agreed and removed the warmth of his arm from her shoulders. 'You stay here while I check.'
'Like hell.' She scrambled upright, all awkward arms and legs compared to his elegance. 'I'm here for a reason, too, remember, and like it or not, you and I have to be a team on this.'
He gave her a look that said, Yeah, right . But he didn't try to stop her from following as he turned and made
