He'd played with fire and lost his heart.
He rose from the bed and moved across to his clothes. Jasper had to be his first priority, now more than ever. He couldn't risk the fiend capturing her again. Anger washed through him, and he savored its taste. It would help him hunt this morning.
But anger did little to erase Jasper's stain from her mind. While her mind might merge with his and make them one, Michael knew he could never hope to control her.
But neither would Jasper. He'd do whatever it took to prevent her becoming a puppet to Jasper's desires. Even if it meant killing her. At least then Jasper wouldn't be able to call her back from the dead. It was only his own victims he could recall.
The thought sent a chill through his soul. He heard soft steps coming down the hall, and tensed. After a moment, he realized it was only Jake. He finished buttoning his shirt, then moved back to the bed. Bending, he gently kissed her cheek. She stirred and murmured something, but her thoughts were full of warmth and contentment. For the moment, at least, she was free from Jasper's taint. But how long would it remain that way?
He had no idea, and it worried him. If Jasper called—truly called with the full force of his vampire abilities—what would happen? In three hundred years of existence he'd met no one who could resist such a call. But then, until Nikki, he'd met no mind he could not fully control. Maybe her psychic strength would give her an edge where all others had failed.
Damn it, he had to find Jasper first and kill him. And Monica was the key. If he knew his enemy, the teenager would be on her own by now. Jasper very rarely kept his women, turned or not, for more than a week or so.
But she would know where her master was, and one way or another, Michael intended to get that information out of her before she died.
* * * *
After several hours of aimless driving, he finally had to acknowledge their quest was futile. Nikki was right—they needed her help. Lyndhurst was a damn maze; Monica could be anywhere. Michael rubbed his chin wearily, then winced as the sun caressed his arm. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, and glanced at the clock on the dash. It was nearly ten.
"Let's call it a day,” he said into the silence.
Jake gave him a quick look. “Why?"
Michael shrugged. “I can't take much more of the sun."
"Oh."
Fear washed through the silence. He crossed his arms and controlled the urge to touch Jake's thoughts. For the first time since he'd turned, he wanted someone to accept him without any sort of force. He smiled slightly. Nikki was a bad influence.
After a moment, Jake cleared his throat and gave him another quick look. “Where to, then?" He glanced at his watch again. It would take them too long to get back to the hotel. He gestured to a small bar just ahead. “Feel like a drink?"
"Anywhere, anytime."
Jake's grin was slightly forced, but at least he was making the effort. And it would be good to sit back and wait out the day's heat with an icy beer. If he couldn't be with Nikki, at least he could sit and enjoy a drink—a normal pastime in his otherwise abnormal life.
Jake stopped close to the entrance, and Michael climbed out. The sunshine raced heat across his unprotected flesh. It was a warning he dare not ignore.
He ran up the steps and ducked inside. The interior of the bar was dark and cool and smelled of sweat and stale smoke. It didn't matter. All he needed was someplace to wait out the worst of the day. He ordered two drinks from the disinterested barman then moved across to a table hidden in deep shadow. Jake sat opposite him and took a sip of his beer. He smacked his lips in appreciation, then gave Michael a shrewd look. “So,” he said, “just what do you plan to do about Nikki?" He knew Jake wasn't referring to the fact that they'd left without her. The man saw too much. “What's this,” he asked lightly. “A little fatherly inquisition?"
Jake shrugged. “I've known her a long time. I don't want to see her hurt."
"Neither do I.” He took another mouthful of beer, but its taste had soured. “When did you two meet?" Jake smiled. “When she was sixteen. She saved my life."
He raised an eyebrow in surprise. “How?"
"I was tracking a runaway for his parents and got cornered by his gang. Nikki came out of nowhere and faced them all down."
It was easy to imagine the skinny little ball of fierceness she must have been. He smiled slightly. Nothing much had changed. “So, she was a hellcat even then."
"But a vulnerable one,” Jake said sharply. “Her toughness is just a shell."
"I know."
Like he knew she had problems with trust, that she feared commitment because everyone she'd ever loved had died. The knowledge didn't make things easier, or help him decide how to proceed. Not that he could proceed.
He met Jake's gaze squarely. “I'm here to do a job, nothing more. Nikki knows that."
"Women are strange folk, buddy. What they know and what they understand are often two very different things."