"Yes,” Michael answered. “As Jasper is."
"Shit,” Jake muttered and took a gulp coffee. “So how do we kill a vampire? Chase it with a stake and cover it in crosses and garlic?"
Michael smiled, though no humor touched his eyes. “The cross works as a deterrent for vampires only because, historically speaking, they have always been made of the purest silver. The metal can burn vampires that touch it, particularly the newly turned. As for garlic, I suspect it is only a deterrent for those with weak stomachs."
"So what's the proper method of killing vampires?” Jake asked. “And how do you know so much about them?"
"As I've already told Nikki, a stake through the heart and decapitation are the best bet. Exposure to the noonday sun works, too. Either way, you must first find their daytime resting place."
"Why the noonday sun? I thought exposure to any amount of sun would kill?” she said in surprise.
"In most cases, yes.” He paused, and shrugged. His quick look told her he wished this subject had never been brought up. “Age has a lot to do with it. The more years you have behind you, the more tolerant you become to silver and the sun."
"So how old is this Jasper?"
"As near as I can gather, just on ninety-eight years old. Not enough to give him much immunity." And he still looked fifteen, she thought, feeling ill. “Then what about the zombies?"
"Kill their master, and they will die,” he said, voice grim. “It's his life-force keeping them alive."
"Does putting salt in their mouth work?"
A shimmer of amusement spun around her. “I suppose if you shoved enough down their throats, they're likely to choke to death."
She scowled at him. “I'm being serious, here."
"So am I.” His amusement fled. “Break their necks, and they will die. Otherwise, they cannot. Not until Jasper dies."
"How in hell is that possible?” she said. “How can he raise the dead and make them his slaves?" Michael shrugged. “The ability to call the newly dead back to life—to reanimate their limbs—is a black art that often runs in families. From what we know of Jasper, both his father and grandfather were animators, as well."
Great, she thought, and wondered what other unknowns walked through the darkness, hiding from the sunlight and humanity's sight.
Be careful what you ask, Nikki, or you might just discover the answer. A chill ran across her flesh. A premonition that perhaps it was a warning that came too late. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
"So what do you suggest we do next?” Jake said into the silence. Grim acceptance ran through his voice. He'd finally accepted both the situation and Michael's presence.
"We must find Monica first. The newly turned tend to be unbalanced and dangerous, especially those who, when alive, had no real love for their fellow humans.” Michael smiled grimly, then added, “As you've already discovered."
"Which is where Nikki comes in. Just as well we nabbed that locket." Michael nodded. “Once Nikki finds Monica's hideout, we wait for dawn then go deal with her." Kill her, he meant. She shuddered then frowned, studying him. She suddenly had the odd notion she had not been included in the we .
"Meaning we introduce her to the delights of sunshine.” Jake frowned. “I don't know if I—"
"I'm not asking for help here. I can handle her alone."
"Monica is our client's daughter,” Jake said, his voice flat. “And our responsibility. Go without us, and I'll call the cops."
If the threat fazed Michael in any way, it certainly didn't show. “Then come. Either way, I care not." His gaze met hers. Here it comes , she thought. The statement she wasn't going to like.
"We should be relatively safe from attack during the day,” he continued, his voice as neutral as his face.
“But all the same, I think for safety's sake, that Nikki should go home and stay there." Jake stood quickly, forestalling her anger with raised hands. “Vampires I can handle. This is beyond me. I'm off to eat.” He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He reached for the door handle, then paused and looked at Michael. “I wish you luck. After a statement like that, you'll need it." Michael restrained the automatic urge to stop Jake's retreat. As much as he'd counted on having the other man's support, any sign of psychic intrusion would only inflame Nikki further. As the door slammed shut, he took a sip of coffee, then braced himself to face the storm brewing on the other side of the desk.
"Who in hell do you think you are, telling me what to do?” She glared at him, cheeks flushed.
"You're a liability,” he said flatly. A liability he willingly used, granted, but that didn't mean he was willing to risk her safety merely to catch the teenager. “Monica is not Jasper, and in many respects, she's more dangerous because her behavior cannot be predicted."
"So? I managed to survive her fury last night. I can do it again. Jake's more a liability in that respect than I am."
"Yes, but Jasper's not after Jake. He's after you."