The sense of evil was a blanket threatening to smother her. Across the silence, she heard a door open. He was coming their way.
She couldn't stay here, nor could she let Rachel go. And she couldn't hold the kinetic net for much longer. Nikki bit her lip, knowing there was only one real option. Gathering what was left of her energy, she thrust Rachel back, smashing her skull against the car. The vampire slumped, her weight tearing at the net. Pain shot through Nikki's head. Blinking against the sting of tears, she released the kinetic cage and ran forward. Though unconscious, Rachel's pulse was as steady and as strong as a vampire's ever got. She hadn't really hurt her then. Good.
She rose and scanned the parking lot. There was a Dumpster near the back fence. Perhaps she could find something there to restrain Rachel—at least until Michael got here to help her. She grabbed the young vampire's hands and began dragging her. The wind chilled the sweat dripping down her cheeks and back, and the sense of evil was so thick she could barely breathe. It seemed to take hours to reach the bin. Her arm, leg and back muscles were all protesting fiercely by the time she got there. She leaned Rachel against some boxes that had fallen from the bin, then thrust a hand through her sweat-tangled hair and scanned the night. No sound, no movement. The sense of evil was unmoving, as if he too stood listening.
The flame imp in Rachel, she thought suddenly. They'd told her that he couldn't see them, that he could only sense their power. That's what he'd been following. When she'd knocked out Rachel, she'd also knocked out the flame imp, and the man Rachel had called Randolf Cordell had lost all sense of them. But if he was a vampire, he only had to come around the corner, and he'd find them. Her heart was a rapid drumbeat that would call him toward them.
She stepped over Rachel and peeked inside the Dumpster. Luck was with her. The bin was not only filled with boxes but used packing tape as well. She grabbed as much of it as she could reach, then quickly wrapped it around Rachel's feet and hands. For good measure, she wound some around the vampire's mouth.
Then she squatted next to her, listening to the wind moan through the trees behind them. The sense of evil was still stationary, still centered on the left-hand alley. Why didn't he move? What was going on?
Pain hit her then, pain so fierce it burned through her brain and knocked her sideways. She gasped, holding her chest, feeling as if she'd just been hit by truck.
Only it wasn't her pain.
It was Michael's.
Chapter Fifteen
Nikki scrambled to her feet. Michael was hurt. She didn't know how or why, but she had to find him. Help him.
She reached for the link. Pain pulsed, a red-hot glow that burned through her. She bit her lip, gaze sweeping the night. He was in the left-hand alley—right where the evil was. She ran. Her footsteps echoed across the night, a rhythm oddly in tune with the thumping beat of the music coming from the bar. She rounded the corner of the building and slid to a stop. A pair of hands hovered above the ground, seemingly unattached to anything but the night. Lightning arced from them, leaping across the darkness, a ragged, blue-white streak of energy that hit Michael in the chest and threw him backwards. He hit the wall with a crunch and slid down to the ground. He didn't move.
She couldn't tell if he was alive or not. No , Nikki thought wildly. No . Energy surged, burning through her, crackling at her fingertips, sparkling like fire through the night as she hit the shadows that hid Randolf Cordell with everything she had. The hands disappeared into night and something heavy hit the trash cans, scattering them.
Pain seared through her brain, almost blinding in its intensity. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Energy still tingled across her fingers despite the fire lances in her brain. She watched the shadows and waited. The hands appeared again, ghostlike in the night. She hit them kinetically, flinging him away. For an instant, a figure appeared, sprawled across the sidewalk—a long, lanky body above which a flame imp rotated. It looked washed out, gray, as if every ounce of energy had been sucked from it. Maybe it had. Maybe that was where the lightning originated.
The shadows closed in again, concealing Cordell. She clenched her fists and waited for an attack, be it physical or magical. Nothing happened. The sense of evil that was Cordell dissipated, and the night became friendly once more.
He'd gone. She heaved a sigh of relief and ran to Michael. Kneeling by his side, she touched his face, his neck. His color was abysmal, even for a vampire, but his pulse was steady and strong. Relief surged so fiercely that tears stung her eyes, blurring her vision>She sighed. “We'll have to rent a car. She's in Jackson Hole."
"The hotel has cars available for guests. It shouldn't be a problem getting one.” He released her waist and caught her hand, wrapping his fingers around hers. “But just remember, we may have no choice but to kill her. She's newly turned and probably not what you'd call rational." Nikki grabbed the bra as they headed out of the room, stuffing it quickly into her pocket. “But that's it,”
she said. “Rachel wasn't acting like Monica. She hungered, but not insatiably so. She took the time to seduce this guy, let him make love to her, and didn't eat until he'd finished.” And had become orgasmic while doing so.
A chill raced across her skin. Maybe it was too late to save Rachel—if saving her had ever been an option.
He frowned. “Not the normal behavior of a fledgling."
"If Monica was a sample of normal behavior, then no." They reached the concierge and made arrangements to rent a car. Five minutes later they were cruising toward Jackson Hole in a small sedan.
"Where to?” Michael asked as they approached the welcoming warmth of lights. She wrapped her hand around the bra. Images teased her mind, lust and hunger mingled with rising excitement. Rachel had found her next victim.
She licked her lips. “Take the next left, then cruise down the street until you see a bar with lots of pickup trucks parked out the front."
He turned left and slowed. The bar was halfway along the street. He parked, and they both climbed out. The breeze tugged at her hair, whipping strands across her face. She pushed them back, studying the building across the road. It looked like a leftover from the eighteen hundreds, a big, old, ramshackle construction that should have had horses lined up out front rather than trucks. Music and laughter ran across the night, and the breeze was heavy with the scents of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Michael glanced at her. “Ready?"
Ready to maybe kill another human being? No, she thought. Never. She took a deep breath. Rachel wasn't human anymore, and the longer she stood here hesitating, the more chance there was that people would die.
"You can stay in the car, Nikki. You don't have to do this." She grimaced slightly. “I owe this much to MacEwan.” Because he would want to know the truth of what happened, and would sense a lie.
Michael nodded and held out his hand. She wrapped her fingers in the heat of his, yet felt no safer for it. A chill crept down her back, spreading ice through her veins. The night air seemed suddenly heavy, thick with the scent of evil.
The same evil she'd sensed out in the field before the flame imps had attacked her.
"Something's here."
His gaze searched the darkness around them. “Yes. Come on, let's get inside and find Rachel." He hurried her across the street and into the bar. Heat and smoke hit them the minute they opened the door, so thick they could almost carve it. Music thumped, and people stomped in time, the noise so loud it seemed to vibrate through her entire being. She coughed, her eyes watering as she looked around. The place was crowded, and it was hard to move without brushing against someone. It wasn't going to be easy finding Rachel.