So why do you not turn around and run?
The thought whispered into her brain, feather light but hinting at anger. Nikki froze, fear squeezing her throat tight. Just for an instant, her mind linked with another. She tasted darkness and concern and the need to kill. This was the man she'd half seen near the fence—the man who'd followed her through the fog.
Turn around and leave. You cannot help the child now.
No. Why could she hear this man's thoughts? Telepathy had never been one of her talents, even though she'd been able to receive Tommy's thoughts well enough. And who the hell are you to tell me what to do?
I merely try to save your life. You will not like what you find. Not in that room, and not with the teenager.
Yeah right. Who was this weirdo? A would-be prophet of doom? I have never run from anything in my life, and I don't intend to start now.
The lie gave her courage. She took a deep breath and stepped into the room.
* * * *
Michael Kelly hit the fence in frustration. The little fool had entered the room, despite his warning. Perhaps because of it.
She knew danger waited—he could taste the fear in her thoughts, despite the distance between them. So why wouldn't she run? Why did she continue this fruitless quest for the teenager? Given the strength of her psychic talents, she had to know the child was well beyond salvation. He let his gaze roam to the far end of the house. Hidden by the darkness, evil waited for his next meal, ably served by his young companion. Unless he intervened, Nikki James would become the fifth woman to go missing in this area.
Had it been anyone else, he wouldn't have particularly cared. His task here tonight was to trap and kill a murderer, not save lives. But her abilities added a dangerous dimension to his task. It was for those abilities, more than her blood, that Jasper hunted her.
He turned and walked to the end of the fence. The sudden movement caused pain to shoot through his head, but he resisted the urge to rub the lump forming near his temple. He had deserved that, and more, for being so careless. But he just hadn't expected the fool to use her kinetic abilities against him. Why he hadn't, he couldn't say. He smiled grimly. Maybe senility was finally setting in. He stopped and studied the houses opposite. Like the area in general, the homes appeared deserted, forgotten. Yet several of the nearest were occupied; he could see the slight haze of life through the walls. Though he couldn't actually enter the main buildings, such restrictions didn't seem to hold when it came to garages. If he could find a container of some kind, he could siphon the gas from the cars. Michael glanced back up to the house. Jasper hated fire. Feared it. It might be enough to save Nikki James.
* * * *
The room smelled awful—a putrid mix of stale urine, excrement and death all rolled up into one breath-withering mix. She cupped a hand over her nose and mouth and tried not to gag as she swept the flashlight's beam across the room.
Something shied away from the light's touch—a hunched, humanoid shape that smelled like death. Nikki backed away. She didn't know what hid in the shadows and didn't really care to find out. She'd learned long ago that some things were best left unexplored; this was certainly one of those times. Perhaps if she closed the door, the thing would leave her alone. She knew from past experience that all the doors in this old house creaked; it was one of the things that had spooked her as a teenager. At the very least, it would give her some warning if the thing decided to move. She half turned away, then stopped. A prickle of warning ran across the back of her neck. The shadows parted, revealing a mass of hair and pale, naked flesh.
It was definitely human. And yet not.
Fear slammed through her heart. What the hell ... ?
The grotesque figure lunged at her. Stumbling backwards, Nikki threw out her hand, thrusting the creature away kinetically. It slammed into the back wall, grunting in surprise. No sooner had it hit the floor than it was scrambling to its feet, its agility surprising. Glimpsing movement to her left, Nikki whirled. A second creature ran out of the shadows, its face a mocking image of humanity. She reached again for kinetic energy. The heavy steps of the first creature were an express train drawing close. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She thrust the second creature back through the doorway, then flicked a wrist knife into her palm. Spinning, she met the charge of the first, stabbing at it wildly. The blade cut through its skin as easily as butter and her fist slammed into the creature's pale flesh—flesh that was as cold as ice.
Or death.
Nausea rose, tightening her throat. Nikki swallowed and tried to back away, but her feet wouldn't move fast enough. The creature lashed out, connecting hard. The blow flung her backwards. Her back hit the wall, and for a moment she saw stars. Blood spurted from the creature's wound, spraying hot droplets across her face. Nikki gagged, scrubbing at it with the sleeve of her jacket. The creature made a second grab for her. Dropping the flashlight, Nikki scrambled away, but it caught her shoulder and pulled her back. Talon-like fingers tore into her arm, burning pain down to her fingertips. She gasped, fighting the sudden wash of nausea. The creature snarled; its breath was fetid, full of death, full of decay. Nikki shuddered and slammed the heel of her hand into its face. For a spilt second, its hold weakened. She reached quickly for kinetic energy. A sliver of pain ran through her mind, a warning that she was pushing her psychic strength too far. She ignored it and forced the heavy creature away from her. It flew across the room and smashed through the window, tumbling out backwards with a guttural cry of surprise.
Moonlight fanned across the darkness, lifting the shadows and touching the face of the second creature as it lumbered back into the room. For an instant, it almost looked pretty. Nikki backed away. What on earth were these things?
It snarled, and any illusion of prettiness shattered. The creature took one ponderous step forward, then stopped. Nikki readied another kinetic lance. The glimmer of pain in her head became an ache. She was going to have a hell of a headache tomorrow—if she survived tonight. Blood ran past her clenched fingers and dripped to the floor near her feet. She had no choice but to ignore it. One move, no matter how small, and the creature would attack. Why wasn't it attacking now? It simply stood in the doorway, shaking its head and snarling softly. It was almost as if the creature was fighting a leash of some kind.
She had absolutely no desire to find out just who, or what, held the end of that invisible leash. The creature snarled again, an angry, sullen sound. Then turned and leaped out the nearest window. The retreat sent a chill up her spine. She waited tensely for something else to happen. The breeze stirred the dust from the corner shadows, and the heavy silence returned. After several heartbeats, she sank down against the wall and drew her knees close. For a minute she simply sat there, breathing deeply and letting the silence run over her. Why had the creature retreated? The desire, maybe even the need, to shed blood had been all too evident in its eyes. But it had left.
Because it had been ordered to.
Moonlight played across the glass that lay scattered all around her. Glass that was stained with bright splashes of red. She wasn't sure if the blood belonged to the creatures or to her, and knew in the end it wouldn't really matter. He would come for the blood. He would smell it and come for her. Who he was, she didn't really know. Or care. She had to get out of this crazy house, had to escape, while she still could...
The thought stalled. What about Monica? Did she really want to leave the teenager to face fate alone?
Yes.
No.
She took another deep breath and pushed upright. At sixteen, Monica had barely begun to live. She had so much yet to learn, so much more of the world to see.