Several uniformed men and woman stood close by, each holding up different name cards. Surprisingly, his name wasn't among the cards.
Nikki stopped suddenly, and fear surged like fire through the link.
"What's wrong,” he said, glancing around quickly. He couldn't see or feel any threat, but he'd learned to trust her senses when it came to situations slightly out of kilter.
"See that guy dressed in the blue and red uniform with the resort's gold logo on the pocket? The one holding the sign with the name Rodeman on it?"
He looked, and saw what she saw.
The chauffeur was a vampire.
Chapter Eight
"But not just one of your plain old, garden variety vampires,” Nikki said softly. “He's one of the vamps who attacked us in the warehouse."
And judging from the way he was bent over slightly, as if he had stomach cramps, he was the vamp she'd stabbed with the knife. He looked different under the harsh lights—scrawnier, somehow. Michael took the bags from the carousel and dropped them onto a cart. “It can't be a trap of any kind. The booking's been made under my name, not an alias, and Seline would have contacted me had there been any inquiries."
"But if he sees me, he'll know who I am.” She met Michael's dark gaze. “Is this what Seline meant when she said if I came here alone I would die?"
"I doubt if a lone vampire intent on vengeance would pose much of a threat to you these days.” He touched her shoulder lightly, his fingers burning heat through her soul. “Stay here. I'll just go and have a nice little chat with him."
"Why do men always say ‘stay here'?” Irritation bit through her words, despite her best efforts to remain calm. “Don't you know by now it's only an open invitation to do the exact opposite?" He placed a finger against her lips. “Will you please be quiet and just wait? I'll be right back." His eyes were filled with the promise of death. She shivered and crossed her arms, watching him walk away. The other vampire chose that moment to turn around. Recognition widened his gaze for a second, then he looked from her to Michael. How he knew they were together she wasn't sure, but the sudden fear in his eyes was visible even from where she stood.
He ran for the main entrance and out into the night. Michael ran after him. Nikki cursed under her breath. Damn it, she wasn't going to be left behind like some good little wife ... even if that was exactly what she was supposed to be.
She grabbed the cart with their luggage and ran after them. The night air was cool and the wind held only the faintest memory of the day's heat. She stopped and looked around. People pushed past her, heading for the waiting cabs and buses. Headlights spotlighted the night as other passengers climbed into cars and drove away. She couldn't see Michael or the other vampire, but she didn't really need to. Not when the presence of the younger vampire itched at her skin.
She wheeled the cart toward the parking garage. Darkness soon engulfed her, broken intermittently by the wash of brightness from the overhead lights. The noise and bustle of the airport faded, and the silence became blanket heavy.
Her gaze swept the silent rows of cars. Someone was close, even if she couldn't see them. Her skin was itching so fiercely it felt like it was burning. Noise scuffed to her left. She jumped slightly, half turning, then a prickle of awareness ran across the back of her neck. He was behind her. She swung, seeing only darkness, yet knowing the night lied. Air stirred, flushed with heat and anger, rushing toward her. Fear squeezed her throat tight. She jumped back, but before she could lash the night-cloaked vampire with energy, Michael dove in from the left. He hit the unseen vampire hard, driving him to the ground with a thump that made her wince.
The shadows abandoned the vampire almost immediately, revealing a gaunt, pain-ravaged face and wild blue eyes. He reminded Nikki of the feral kids she'd met so often in the days when she'd lived on the streets herself. He even fought like them, spindly arms and legs going everywhere but with little effect. There was no real strength or method in his movements, just desperation to get what he wanted—which in this case was her.
Michael sat on the vampire's chest, then grabbed his arms, crossing and pushing them toward the ground. The vampire had no choice but to stop fighting or risk breaking both his shoulders. "Why are you here?” Though Michael's voice was soft, there was a deadliness to it that chilled her. There was no compassion in his words, no life.
"I'm a chauffeur, man.” Sweat was beginning to bead the vampire's forehead. “What do you think I'm here for?"
"And does the resort often send vampires to greet their guests?"
"No."
"Then tell me why you are here.” Michael punctuated his soft words by pushing a little harder on the vampire's crossed arms.
The vampire yelped. “To meet with a guest and his wife and take them to the resort. I swear, that's all." Sweat was trickling faster down his face now, and his cheeks were beginning to glow with heat. She rubbed her arms. There was something more than fear happening here.
"And the name of this guest?"
The trickle had become a stream. Water dripped from the young vampire's face, pooling near the back of his neck. Dark stains were appearing under his arms and across his stomach.
"Rodeman,” he said, voice high and cracked with pain. “Some old dude and his new wife." She met Michael's glance and smiled grimly. “Want to bet that this Rodeman is number sixteen on the disappearing list?"
"Too much of a chance, given the publicity caused by Hutton's recent disappearance." The vampire's eyes widened even further at the mention of the actor's name. He looked like an owl—all white face and huge eyes. He also looked gaunter than he had in the terminal—almost skeletal.
"You some kind of cop?” he asked.
"Some kind,” Michael agreed. “Would you like to tell me what you intended to do with Rodeman once you'd picked him up?"
The vampire licked his lips—lips that were so dry they were beginning to crack and bleed. “Drive him to the resort. That's all, really."