"He must die for us to survive."
Then somehow, some way, she had to help make that happen. Not only for the sake of these strange lights, but for people like Rodeman and Matthew—lonely people who were only after company or for someone to understand them. Easy prey for the likes of that woman in the warehouse or the man killing the flame imps. “How many of you does this creep have under his control?"
"Four. Eight will no longer dance in the orb's light." She meant the moon, Nikki realized suddenly. That's what they had been doing tonight—dancing under the light of the moon. “And you can tell me nothing about the man who binds you?"
"No. We hear his words, but we cannot see him."
Ginger obviously didn't mean he was invisible. He'd had a shape in the images she'd received when she'd touched Ginger's hand—though his form had been little more than a shadow. “Does he wear a mask or something?"
"No. He is not of our world."
Nikki snorted softly. “I'm not of your damn world, but I can see you."
"You have the fire in you. It dances across your fingers as we speak. You can see us. Others, like the one who binds, only feel what we are."
So Michael wouldn't see them, even if they were to appear before him. That wasn't going to make an explanation any easier.
"Will you help us?” Ginger asked. The lights thrummed behind her, pulsing yellow across the walls.
"I'll do what I can.” But she wasn't about to make promises. Not when she had no real idea what she was going up against.
The lights danced in brightness. Nikki couldn't help smiling.
"We will return you to the surface now,” Ginger said.
Nikki barely had time to nod before the darkness hit her again.
* * * *
Awareness surged through the link, followed quickly by a flash of red pain. Michael raced onto the patio, wincing at the sun's brightness. It was nine-thirty, and here in the mountains where there were no smog nor high rise buildings to block the sun's heat, he was really pushing his limits. He didn't care. He headed past the pool and tennis courts and out into the meadow. He found her sitting on the same rock as last night.
She looked up when he appeared, her expression troubled. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be inside, out of the sun?"
"What in the hell do you think I'm doing out here?” He squatted in front of her. The wound on her temple was bleeding again, and there was black dirt on her shirt and jeans. The soil around here was a reddish brown. “You've been missing for four damn hours."
Four hours in which he'd gone quietly crazy, imagining the worst. He'd not only searched the grounds thoroughly but had touched the thoughts of every man, woman, and child currently staying at the hotel—whether they were guests or workers. No one had seen her, not even in passing.
"I'm okay,” she said softly. She touched his face, her fingers trailing warmth down his cheek to his lips. But it was a gentle warmth, not the blistering heat of before.
He captured her hand, brushing a kiss across her fingers before rising. “Let's get back to our room, and you can tell me what happened."
She rose, but again was unsteady on her feet. He picked her up and raced back to their room. He set her on the bed then drew the curtains closed. He could feel the heat tingling across his skin. No sense pushing it to extremes.
"So what happened?” He rinsed the washcloth again and began cleaning her wound. She sighed and pushed his hand away. “I feel like Alice." He sat back on his heels, wondering if the knock on her head had addled her brains a little. “Alice?" She smiled slightly. “Yeah. I've just been to Wonderland."
"Oh, that Alice.” He could vaguely remember reading the tale a hundred years or so ago. He handed her the cloth, then rose and walked to the bar. “What hole did you fall into?” he said, pouring them both a drink.
"A big black one.” She accepted her drink with a smile and gave him a quick rundown of the events in the cavern. “Have you ever heard of these flame imps?"
He shook his head. “But as Seline often says, fantasy is a reality we walk every day.” And they had sure as hell seen more than their fair share of the fantastical, be it good or bad. “Seline's doing a check on what entities are known to be in the area. She may come up with them—if not, I'll get her to do another check."
"What about these caverns?” She hesitated and yawned. “Shouldn't we be looking for them?" "Not until you get some sleep,” he said, rising. “I'll head down to the library and see what I can find about the history of this hotel and the geography of the area." She raised an eyebrow, a teasing light suddenly in her eyes. “I promise not to make unwelcome advances if you want to lay down with me."
He smiled slightly. That was a situation he had no intention of getting into—simply because her advances would be welcome. Very welcome.
"You need to rest,” he said, unsure who he was trying to convince.
"I need you more,” she murmured.