Energy surged, a wave so strong she shook with the intensity of it—a wave she had no hope of fully controlling. It rolled from her body and battered the vampire away, smashing him though the brick wall and out into the darkness of the junction beyond. And there it consumed him. Literally. The smell of burning flesh stung the air, and his screams echoed. Bile rose in her throat, momentarily overwhelming the pain beginning to pound through her entire body. The light of the flames danced across the brick walls—walls across which shadows danced. Michael, still fighting. She pushed upright. Her legs were almost boneless, and it felt like her brain was on fire. But she ignored both and staggered over to the shattered remains of the wall.
Jake came up beside her and fired another shot. The sound seemed to echo through her brain, making her wince. The bullet took the fledgling in the shoulder, spinning him half-around. Michael quickly finished the young vampire off.
Nikki sank down on her haunches, closing her eyes as she rested back against the wall. It was over. She could relax. And ache.
"How in hell did that vampire catch fire?” Jake asked.
"It was Nikki's doing.” Michael's voice was little more than a harsh growl. He knelt beside her, a warm, angry presence she felt rather than saw. “Are you all right?" She nodded fractionally. The smell of burnt flesh still stung the air, and her stomach continued to roll. Nor was it helped by the hot lances of fire digging into her brain. If she moved too much right now, she'd throw up for sure.
He touched her wrist, fingers firm against the wound caused by the vampire's bite. Stopping the flow of blood, she suspected, and wondered how savage the fledgling had been. But she didn't open her eyes to find out. Didn't dare. Not with the way her stomach was rebelling.
"Jake, you'd better call the cops.” Michael's voice was again emotionless, but even though the link between them was lost to the haze of pain consuming her mind, she could feel his anger.
"You can't wrap me in cotton forever,” she said softly.
"But surely I can expect you to listen to common sense." Wisps of fury reached past the barrier of pain separating their minds, and for first time in her life, she was thankful for the agony that came with overextending her abilities. She wasn't ready to face the full extent of his anger just yet, even though she knew she'd have to eventually.
"They were only fledglings, Nikki. Six of them would never have taken me."
"Yet you once told me a fledgling was more dangerous than a vampire who'd passed the bloodlust stage."
"To humans, not to a vampire."
"But I'm neither, am I?” Because I'm a thrall and stand somewhere between the two . Just where, she wasn't entirely sure—and she had feeling Michael wasn't, either.
"Being a thrall doesn't make you invincible."
"Just like being a vampire doesn't make you invincible."
"That's different."
"How?"
She felt his gaze on her, could almost taste his frustration. “Now is not the time to discuss this."
"It never is,” she said, unable to keep the hint of bitterness in her voice. God, why wouldn't he just listen?
"The cops are on the way,” Jake said. “I told them to come through that hole we found in the hotel's basement. Easier than trying to find the nearest street entry, especially seeing I can't tell them where exactly we are."
"And the paramedics?"
"On their way as well.” Jake hesitated. “What about those bodies out there in the tunnel?"
"I'll move them if you'll come over here and keep pressure on this wound." His touch left her, to be quickly replaced by Jake's cooler grip. “How are we going to explain this wound, your bruises and the blood on the wall?"
"We don't. I'll ensure they won't see or question it." Touch their minds, take it all away, she thought with a shudder. “Michael, you can't—"
"I can and I will.” He rose, and though she heard no footsteps, she knew he'd moved away. Jake took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I don't think I've ever seen him so angry." She snorted softly and opened her eyes. Pinpricks of red light pranced crazily everywhere she looked—even across his face. They weren't real, just a side effect of the hammering in her brain. She blinked, and the spots faded a little. She wished the pain would ease as quickly.
"He doesn't like being disobeyed."
Jake smiled. “You'd think after living with you for four months, he'd be used to it."
"You'd think,” she muttered and glanced at her wrist. The vampire had certainly done a number on it. No neat pinprick holes for him, that was for sure. She dug her other hand into her pocket and dragged out a handkerchief. “Here, use this. Better than you being attached to my wrist until the police and paramedics get here."
Jake grabbed the handkerchief, but the minute he released her arm the blood began to pulse freely. Even though she knew she couldn't die from blood loss, it was still an alarming sight. And one that explained Michael's sudden departure. Maybe it wasn't so much anger as the need to distance himself from the smell of her blood. It was little more than ten months ago that she'd sliced her wrist in an effort to save his life, and in doing so had almost destroyed his control over his demon half. Had almost brought the vampire fully to the surface. His struggle for control continued, though he would never admit it to her. But she'd seen it in his eyes, seen the flicker of darkness the one or two times she'd cut herself. She loved him and she trusted him—but even so, she sometimes wondered if one day she'd wake up and find herself tied to a stranger. A stranger desperate to kill her.
"How's Dale doing?"