He was young and scruffy-looking, dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket decorated in biker's colors. His face was pale, gaunt, and his brown eyes haunted.

Hasn't been turned all that long, Nikki thought. Which only made him all the more dangerous.

She clenched her fist against the energy burning across her fingers and shifted her stance slightly, ready to dive out of the way should he attack.

"What do you want?” She kept her voice flat and low, not wanting to provoke him in any way.

"Are you Nikki James?” His voice was guttural, thick.

A sliver of fear ran through her. How did he know her name? She'd just arrived in San Francisco, and no one but Jake and Mark really knew she was here. “And what do you want with her?"

He smiled, revealing long, sharp canines. It was rather obvious what he intended to do—suck her dry.

"You're her, ain't you?” His gaze travelled the length of her body and back again, and an excited light crept past the haunted look in his brown eyes. “Gonna enjoy tasting you, I am."

His gaze seemed to intensify, and power slivered through the air between them. She frowned. He was obviously trying to get a mind-lock on her, but thanks to what she'd become, she was basically immune to the mind-control attempts of most vampires. Despite her earlier fears, she suspected even Michael couldn't really force her to act against her wishes—not that he'd ever tried.

Evidently, this vampire had no idea his mind assault wouldn't work, which was odd. Elizabeth, the now-dead vampire who'd turned Michael so long ago, had taken one look and known she was a thrall. Had known mind control wouldn't work simply because Michael had, in a sense, created her. So why couldn't this one tell?

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and continued to watch him, her hands still clenched against the energy burning across her fingertips. Sweat tickled down his hollowed cheeks, and after a few seconds, he frowned.

"Well, hell,” he muttered. “That ain't working, is it?"

"No, it's not,” she replied. “Who sent you here to kill me?"

"Yeah, like I'm going to tell you that.” He snorted and produced a knife from the side pocket of his dirty jeans. “Ready to die?"

Fear slid through her. The knife was long and sharp and gleamed silver in the room's warm light—and it was not the sort of weapon you could easily conceal. He should never have been able to get past hotel security with a weapon like that stuck down his pants. There had been at least two discreetly positioned guards near the hotel's main entrance, and it would have taken a lot of psychic strength to control their minds enough to slip past unnoticed. More strength than what this vampire had, anyway. And she had no doubt that after the recent kidnapping, security would have been doubled on every exit.

So, if he hadn't come through any secured entrance, where in hell had he come from?

And why was he using a knife when he was a damn vampire?

He snarled silently and sprang, slashing wildly with the knife. She dove out of the way, but he was faster than she'd expected. The blade nicked the sleeve of her jacket and sliced into her arm as easily as butter. Biting back her yelp, she hit the carpet and rolled back to her feet. The vampire was little more than a blur, the knife a streak of silver as it arced toward her. She thrust out her hand, hitting him with the pent-up energy.

He flew across the room and smashed into an expensive looking painting. The frame and glass shattered, showering the vampire with shards as he hit the floor then scrambled back to his feet.

She thrust out kinetically again, this time retrieving rather than pushing away. The vampire's eyes went wide as two jagged pieces of frame flew across the room.

She caught them deftly and forced a grin, feigning a confidence she certainly didn't feel. Warmth flowed down her arm, and the cuff of her sweater was growing damp. She had to end this quickly before she started bleeding all over the carpet.

A wild light entered the young vampire's eyes. He could obviously smell the blood, even if he couldn't yet see it. “How'd you do that?"

"Magic,” she said and waved the stake in her right hand, catching his gaze. “Want to see more?"

He sneered again. “I'm going to kill you, you know. You can't beat me. I'm a vampire. I'm invincible."

She snorted softly. “You've been listening to a few too many fairy tales, kid. No vampire is invincible. Not even the old ones."

He launched across the room, his body blurring. She twisted out of the way and slashed through the shadows, stabbing one of the stakes deep into his leg.

He hissed, a sound full of anger and pain, then twisted and threw the knife. She ducked and heard the blade thud into something solid. Heard the whistle of air and twisted desperately away—but not fast enough. His fist smashed into her chin and lifted her off the ground. She flew across the room and crashed into the wall. Air whooshed from her lungs, leaving her gasping and seeing stars as she slumped to the floor.

A warning tingled across her skin. The vampire was coming at her again. She thrust out her hand and reached again for kinetic energy. He slammed into her wall of power, abruptly stopping. Pain slithered through her head, a warning she was beginning to push her limits. She ignored it and climbed slowly to her feet.

Warmth trickled down her fingers. She thrust her hand into her pocket and met the vampire's gaze. It was filled with desperation and hunger.

"Tell me who sent you here to kill me,” she said.

He didn't answer, just twisted desperately, fighting her hold on him. Every movement stabbed red-hot pokers through her head. She had to end this quickly, while she still had some semblance of control.

"Tell me.” She thrust him backwards, towards the windows and the pale beams of sunlight beginning to filter into the room.

His struggles grew more violent, the pain in her head sharper.

"Tell me,” she repeated and pushed him closer.

Light caressed his left arm and, almost instantly, his fingers went a deep, dark red. He screamed. It was a sound filled with fear and anger, and shuddered right though every fiber of her being. Not very old at all, she thought, and pulled him back a little.

"I can't.” His eyes were haunted, frantic. “He'll kill me."

She wondered how young he really was—or how young he'd been when he'd been turned. Despite the bravado and the tough words, she suspected he was only in his mid-to-late teens. A babe in human or vampire terms. But then, Jasper had been a lot younger, and he'd been one of the most depraved bastards she'd ever met. She raised an eyebrow. “And you think I won't?"

He stared at her for a heartbeat. His desperation singed the air as he began to struggle again. Red-hot pokers gnawed at her brain, and pain shuddered through her entire being. She couldn't hold him for much longer—and when the net of power failed, she'd be in trouble.

"Are you really so desperate to die?” she said, thrusting him back into the light.

He screamed again. “I can't,” he said, twisting severely. “If I go back without killing you, I'm finished."

"Then don't go back. Run for it."

"You don't know these people..."

He gave a final twist and shattered her hold on him. Agony locked her mind tight, and she fell to her knees, fighting tears and the red tide of pain threatening to engulf her. She wrapped her fingers around the remaining stake and thrust it out in front of her, knowing it would be as useless as a toothpick against a snake.

But the young vampire didn't attack.

He ran for the window and the sunlight instead.

"Don't—"

The rest of her words were lost in the shattering of glass. She scrambled to her feet and staggered over to the window. The vampire's body became flame the minute he fully hit the sunlight, and the fire consumed him with a fierceness that turned her stomach. There was nothing left of him but black dust by the time he hit the pavement.

"What the hell has been going on here?” Jake said from behind her.

The cavalry has arrived. But too late, as usual. An insane desire to laugh bubbled through her, but what came out was more a sob. She slid down the wall and closed her eyes.

"Nik? What happened? Are you all right?” Jake knelt beside her and touched her arm. She flinched, and he cursed.

"You're bleeding. Henry, get the hotel doctor up here immediately."

She opened her eyes a slither and saw a big man in an official-looking black and gold uniform walk over to the phone. Henry, obviously. “Are all the exits in this hotel guarded?” she murmured.

Jake frowned. “Yes. Why?"

"Because a vampire just waltzed into my room and attacked me with a very large knife he'd stuck down the leg of his jeans."

Jake glanced quickly at the man on the phone and lowered his voice to ask, “Are you sure?"

"Sure that it was a vampire?” She forced a smile and rubbed her forehead with her good hand. “Oh yeah, I'm sure. If you look down at the pavement below this window, you'll see his dust."

"Did he say anything?"

"Other than they wanted me dead, no."

"The doc's on his way,” Henry said as he put the receiver back down. “And I called the cops."

Jake cursed under his breath. “Thanks, Henry. Do you mind standing guard outside the door until the police arrive?"

The big man nodded and headed for the door.

"He knew my name, Jake,” she said when Henry had disappeared. “It was no mistake."

"But you're not registered here under your name—only as my guest. How the hell did they even know you were here? You'd barely arrived."

"I haven't got any answers. He killed himself rather than give me anything."

Jake thrust a hand through his hair. “I don't like this."

"Join the club,” she murmured and looked past him as a gray-suited man carrying a heavy bag bustled into the room.

"About time,” Jake said, rising to make room for the stranger. “She's bleeding pretty heavily from her left arm."

"It's just my arm that's injured, not my tongue,” she muttered.

The gray-suited stranger knelt beside her, then reached into his bag and grabbed some gloves. “You able to remove your sweater, or shall we just cut it?"

"Cut it,” she said. The less she moved right now, the better it was for the pain in her head. She closed her eyes again, leaning her head back against the wall while the doctor sliced open the sleeve of her sweater.

"Pretty nasty,” he murmured after a while. “And you're losing a fair bit of blood. You should really go to the emergency room."

"No. Just stitch it up, Doctor. I'll be fine."

"I really think you'd be better in emergency. The wound is very deep, and might have caused serious muscle damage."

She bit back her annoyance. The last thing she felt like doing right now was arguing—especially when her head felt ready to explode. All she wanted to do was take some painkillers and lie down in the dark until the pain drifted away.

"I don't care what you really think,” she snapped. “Just stitch the wound up. If you're worried about being sued, write up a release form, and I'll sign the damn thing."

The doctor glanced around. “Mr. Morgan? This could come back on the hotel, you know."

"It won't. Just do as she asks,” Jake said.

The doctor muttered something under his breath. She closed her eyes again, trying to ignore the sharp sting of the needle as he began stitching her arm.

Time slithered by. “Here,” he said eventually, “is a prescription for painkillers. If you see any sign of infection near the wound, get yourself to a hospital immediately. Try not to use your arm much for the next few days."

She opened her eyes and accepted the white slip from him. He shoved the bloody cloths in a bag, peeled off his gloves and placed them in a medical-waste bag, then picked everything up and headed out the door.

"You want me to get that prescription filled?” Jake said into the silence.

She nodded and handed it to him. “Don't bother with a guard near the door, either."

"Nik, I can't leave you here unprotected."

"Why not? A guard wouldn't have stopped that vampire, believe me.” She rubbed a hand across her eyes, trying to ease the ache. “Besides, it may have been just a random attack."

Jake snorted. “When he knew your name? You can't honestly believe that."

She didn't. But right now, she just wasn't up to looking for answers or worrying. “Look, I'll be fine—the vampire won't be missed for a few hours yet. I'll just catch some sleep, and then I'll do the search for Dale."

Footsteps sounded outside. She tensed and didn't relax any when two burly police officers appeared in the doorway. Sleep, it seemed, was a ways off yet.

She answered their questions as civilly as her headache allowed, wishing all the while everyone would just leave her alone. They “tutted” over the window, gouged the knife from the mahogany sideboard and eventually said they'd get back to her.

Not that she expected to hear from them anytime soon. Knife attacks, it seemed, weren't big news. Especially when nobody was missing or dead.

By that time, Jake was back with her painkillers. She climbed wearily to her feet and gave him a tired smile. “Thanks."

"I've arranged for you to be put into the next suite. We have to get the window here fixed anyway."

She nodded, though she had a suspicion changing location wasn't going to make a great deal of difference to whoever was after her. She collected her bag and followed him into the next suite. It was almost identical to the original one.

"I've already told Mark it'll be this afternoon before we can try to find Dale. Go get some sleep, Nik. You look like shit."

"Gee, thanks, Boss. It's nice to know you're always there with an encouraging word."

He grinned and handed her the keycard. “I'll head downstairs and keep an eye out for Michael."

She glanced at her watch. “It's barely even seven."

"Yeah, but your boyfriend has a habit of turning up when he's least expected. I'd hate for him to walk in and find you like this. He can get pretty temperamental when it comes to your safety."

She grinned. “Anyone would think you were scared of him."

The sudden seriousness in Jake's expression surprised her. “Look, I know he would never hurt you, and probably not me—but I've seen what he can do, Nik. And part of me still does fear him.” He hesitated, then shrugged. “It's not just the vampire factor, either."

She touched his arm, squeezing gently. “I know what you mean.” Because she did. She loved Michael, and she trusted him. But there had been a few times in the past when his reactions, his anger, had frightened her. He may have controlled his dark half, but it was still a part of him, and none of them could really afford to forget that.

Certainly Michael never did.

"Henry's stationed near your door, and there's another guard near the elevator.” Jake wagged a warning finger in front of her nose. “No arguments, missy. They'll stay until Michael gets here."

"Fine,” she muttered, too tired to argue any more. “Wake me at twelve, and I'll try finding Dale."

"You wake when you wake. Just get reception to page me when you do. Sleep tight."

She watched him disappear out the door before heading into the bedroom. She grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and took a couple of painkillers, then stripped and climbed into the party-sized bed.

Shame I'm alone, she thought and snuggled deep into the silk sheets. But as sleep drifted in, dreams stirred.

Dreams that warned of death striking down someone close to her.

Someone she loved.