"Wish he'd hurry."
She looked up at him. Sweat beaded his forehead. “Are you nervous?"
"Petrified. But that won't stop me from killing the bastard."
"Just remember not to move or take a shot before the ghosts have his attention."
"I know, I know.” He hesitated, then added, “What are the chances of this really working?" Who knew? It was a chance they had to take. If it failed ... Well, they could always run and wait for Michael to get strong again—even if that enforced his belief she was not capable of doing this type of work. “Probably small. Farmer's a born and bred killer. I'm not really sure if being confronted by his victims will make any difference."
"Chances are it won't."
"It's not every day a killer is confronted by those he killed. Maybe the shock of it will hold him long enough."
Jake snorted. “He's a vampire. Why would ghosts scare him?"
"Why wouldn't they? Just because he became a vampire doesn't mean he lost all his human fears. I think you'll find deep inside that bully exterior is the scared little boy who cowered under the taunts of a dozen women."
"I sure hope you're right. This could get extremely messy otherwise." It probably would anyway. Nothing had gone right for them so far. Why would it start happening now?
A prickle of warning ran across her skin. Evil stirred the night. Farmer was circling the park, perhaps checking they were here alone. She hoped he didn't sense Michael, who was waiting in the limo a block away.
"Heads up,” she said. “He's coming in from the left." Jake nodded once and shoved his hand into his pocket. Nikki stepped slightly in front of him—half to keep Farmer's attention primarily on her, half to protect Jake. She didn't trust Farmer one ounce and wouldn't put it past him to try to kill Jake first.
But when he arrived, killing seemed to be the last thing on his mind. Or so anyone who couldn't taste his evil would have thought. He walked up the incline toward them at a leisurely pace, an amused smile playing across his thin lips. He obviously thought the game was already his. She hoped he wasn't right.
"That's close enough, Farmer.” She flicked one of the knives down into her palm and held the point towards him.
He laughed. “You think I'm afraid of a little pig-sticker like that?"
"Given it's silver, yeah, I think you would be."
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You know a little about vampires, don't you?"
"I've been sleeping with one for months. Why in hell wouldn't I?" He grunted and shoved his hands into his pockets. His casual stance didn't fool her for a second. His arms and shoulders were tense. He was ready to move, ready to blur into night.
"Where's Michael?” she asked quietly.
His Cheshire-cat smile came back full force. “Safe. Alive."
"He'd better be."
"Or what? You'll stick me with your little knife?” He snorted . “Sweetie, you won't even see me move."
"I don't have to. I'm psychic, remember. I can smell evil."
"Yeah, right."
She raised an eyebrow. “You did a circuit of this park before you walked in here, did you not? Starting from the zoo end and working your way around?"
He sneered. “That's nothing more than a guess."
"No guess. You don't know as much about me as you think, Farmer. And what you don't know will kill you."
"Will it now? Shall we test your little bluff?"
He blurred as he spoke, and the stink of his presence ran around to the left then straight at Jake. She grabbed Jake's arm, yanking him back, then slashed the air with the knife. The darkness howled, and the smell of burnt flesh stung the air.
Farmer reappeared, rubbing a hand at the blackened cut along his forearm. His gaze flicked from her to Jake and narrowed slightly. Energy buzzed the air between them. Jake didn't move, didn't twitch. Confusion touched Farmer's expression. “Pretty fancy footwork there, missy,” he said, as if he hadn't paused to try to take over Jake's mind. “Shame it'll cost you your life." She shifted the knife slightly, reminding him of its presence. Its danger. “You were going to take it anyway, so why should I worry?"