Dale drew her legs close to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She felt cold, so cold—like it had seeped deep into her bones and she was never going to get warm again. The air itself was damp, its touch icy against her bare skin. But it wasn't so much the cold chilling her bones, but fear.

Her lip trembled, and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the sounds outside her cell. The slap of flesh against flesh, the groan of ecstasy. Laughter, high and insane, followed by a quick, desperate whimper.

Don't think, she thought. Don't imagine. But how could she not, when all she could see was darkness and all she could hear was those sounds?

She knew it was only a matter of time before they came for her. Before they started doing to her what they were doing to that other woman.

Terror rose, and for a second, she couldn't even breathe. Her chest felt so tight it ached, and her left hand tingled. She frowned and wriggled her fingers, wondering if it was just the cold or something more.

She shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. The mattress scraped harshly under her buttocks—it was little more than straw and scratched like sandpaper. But it was softer, and warmer, than the bricks—her only other choice of seating.

A gurgling broke the momentary silence, followed by the sound of someone slurping. Messy drinker, Dale thought distastefully. She licked her lips and wished they'd give her some water. Then thought better of it. The less she saw of her captors, the better off she'd be.

The whimpering died, but the silence was, in some ways, more frightening. She stared into the darkness, unable to see her toes let alone the door six steps away. For several moments, all she could hear was the rattle of her own heart, the harsh sound of her breaths. Then the lock scraped, and air stirred as the door opened.

She couldn't see him, but she could smell him. He reeked of death and blood and water long gone stagnant. She edged back into the corner, a small whimper escaping her lips.

He laughed. The sound crawled over her skin and sent her heart into overdrive. The aching in her chest leapt into focus.

"Just a taste. Just a little taste,” he murmured. His voice was childlike, innocent, and yet somehow evil. “I need it. He has to see that, he can't deprive me of that."

He ambled toward her, something she heard rather than saw. “Just one little taste,” he continued.

He skimmed a hand up her leg, his touch fiery against her skin. She screamed...

...the silent scream reverberated through Michael's soul. He drew Nikki into his lap and sat back down. She didn't say anything, just wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on tight. He rubbed his hands up her arms and lightly touched her thoughts, carefully detaching the remaining threads holding her mind to Dale's.

She sighed. Thank you.

Her mind voice was clear, unfettered by pain or shadows that belonged to Dale. Relief surged through him, and he brushed a kiss against the top of her head. She never seemed to realize just how dangerous this developing ability of hers could be—or if she did, she didn't seem to care. What worried him more, though, was the fact it seemed far stronger now than it had been the last time she'd used it.

I'm going to have to teach you how to control that gift of yours.

Uneasiness washed through the link. I'm not sure it's something I really want to control.

Are you intending to stop using it?

She hesitated. No.

Then you must learn to control it. I don't want to lose you in the mind of another. He caressed the silk of her hair. She'd cut it sometime in the last three weeks. It now brushed her shoulder blades rather than the middle of her back, but had more of a wave in it than before.

She shifted slightly, and her gaze met his. Fear lurked deep in the rich amber depths. “Can that really happen?"

"Yes,” he said softly. He brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “And I don't really have to tell you that, do I?"

She bit her lip and didn't answer. She didn't have to. The fear washing through the link was answer enough.

"Promise me you won't try that again without me nearby,” he continued.

She hesitated and met his gaze, her expression suddenly defiant. “Are you going to reconsider your position about me working with you?"

He bit down on a rush of anger and said as calmly as he could, “No."

"Then I will make no promises.” She pushed off his lap and moved back to the other sofa. “I found her,” she added, looking across to Jake.

"I gathered as much,” Jake said. “What's happening to her?"

He was still standing near the window, but his arms were crossed, and his expression annoyed. And with good cause, Michael thought, glancing at Nikki. Every second they sat here arguing was another second in which Dale might die. Heat flushed Nikki's cheeks, but she gave little other indication she'd heard his silent rebuke.

"She's alive and relatively unhurt.” She hesitated again, and fear flashed through the link between them.

Dale might be alive, but something had certainly happened to her. He wondered why she wasn't telling Jake. Wondered why he could no longer see the images in her mind. Had her ability become so strong she was somehow able to block him? “Did you see or hear anything that would give us a starting point?"

She shook her head. “No. It was pitch black—no external sounds, other than—” She paused, and cleared her throat. “Someone having sex nearby. A vamp came into the cell she was in, and he smelled like blood and putrid water."

"Nothing else?” he asked softly, knowing from her fear that there was.

She rubbed her arms and glanced at him. The vamp was about to feed on her.

I gathered that. Why aren't you telling Jake?

Tell him that his best friend's wife is currently some desperate vampire's meal? I'm not that insensitive.

Her mental tone implied that he was. He pushed away his annoyance and met her glare. Jake is aware we are hunting vampires.

Maybe. But he doesn't need to know what is happening to her right now. How could he keep the horror of that from Mark? They've been friends all their lives. Mark would see it in Jake's eyes.

Jake has been a private investigator a long time. I think he'd be able to conceal a truth or two from a client.

Not this truth. Not everyone is as an accomplished a liar as you, you know.

His annoyance rose another notch. I have never lied to you.

She gave a mental snort. How true. You work on a need-to-know basis—and I never seem to need to know it all, do I?

Nikki, it's—

For my own safety, she finished tartly. Yeah, I know.

He pushed away his growing irritation and the need to keep arguing. Now was not the time for this sort of quarrel. We have a woman to rescue. Let's save our petty squabbles until after that job is done.

This is far from petty, believe me.

Not when compared to what has already happened to two women, and what might currently be happening to Dale.

She stared at him for a minute then looked away, but not before he'd glimpsed the brief sheen of tears in her eyes. He frowned, not sure whether the cause was his continuing refusal to discuss her working with him or the thought of Dale's life being sucked away. Either way, it didn't really matter—he still felt like a bastard.

Damn it, why couldn't she just see sense and give this insanity up?

"So you saw nothing that gives us a clue as to where she might be?” Jake said into the silence.

"No.” She hesitated and glanced at the bra on the table. “But I can try to track her. If the bra is in the plastic, maybe I can hold the images at bay long enough to get a fix on her direction."

She didn't sound convinced, and he certainly didn't wish her to risk going into Dale's mind again so soon—especially if the vamp was still feeding on her. He studied the daylight behind Jake for a moment, then said, “Maybe you won't have to."

Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Why not?"

He pointed toward the window. “How did that vampire get into the hotel? Wasn't dawn rising when you arrived?"

She nodded thoughtfully. “And he was carrying the mother of all knives, yet he wasn't a strong enough telepath to take over the mind of more than one guard at a time. Jake has two stationed at the exits."

He nodded. “So, if not secured exits, where from?"

"Basement?” She glanced at Jake. “Or parking garage?"

"They're one and the same,” Jake said. “It won't hurt to check, though I know the cops have gone over them thoroughly."

"The cops do not know they're looking for vampires,” Michael commented. “It gives us a certain advantage."

"I'm not sure it's an advantage I really want.” Jake pushed away from the wall. “I'll go collect some flashlights, just in case we need them, and meet you down in the lobby."

Michael nodded and headed into the bedroom. Nikki followed him but stopped in the doorway, her expression an endearing mix of fear and determination. “Why does knowing we're after vampires give us an advantage? Surely if there was anything to find in the basement or parking garage, the cops or FBI would have found it."

"Not necessarily.” He sat on the bed and pulled on his socks. “Vampires have become very adept at hiding. Many of us have literally had centuries in which to learn. Getting in and out of buildings is just another method of concealment."

"So you think they have a hidden entrance somewhere?"

"It would be the most logical explanation.” Though it didn't exactly explain how they'd gotten into the second victim's home. They certainly wouldn't have been able to cross the threshold without her inviting them.

She frowned. “But how would that help them avoid the sunlight?"

"They're probably using the sewer system to get around. It wouldn't be the first time it has happened.” He slipped on his shoes and walked across to her.

Her gaze searched his. “The vampire who attacked Dale smelled like dead water."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close. Her pulse was a rapid beat that pounded through her body and his. “Then that would certainly suggest my guess is right.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and wished they had the time to do more. This morning had been wonderful, but he still wanted her. Would always want her, physically and emotionally—something she still didn't seem to understand. “You will do as I ask down there, won't you?"

Her expression was the picture of stubbornness. “Just don't try ordering me out, because I won't go unless you leave with me."

He smiled and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Right now, I have no plans to go anywhere without you."

Amusement and love washed through the link, and a smile touched her lips. “Good. Because I have no intention of letting you go."

"So I discovered,” he said dryly. He caught her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. “Shall we go?"

She sighed and cast an almost wistful glance toward the bed. “Yes."

On the way out, he grabbed the plastic bag containing Dale's bra, tucking it into his pocket. If the vamps were in the sewers, they could literally be anywhere. And with Dale Wainwright slated as the next victim, speed was of the essence. As much as he hated using Nikki's unpredictable psychometric abilities, it might be their only real chance of finding this woman alive.

Jake was waiting in the lobby. He tossed Nikki a flashlight and led them toward an exit. “This will take us down to the basement.” He swiped a keycard through the lock and opened the door. “From there we can get into the parking garage."

"Do the elevators go down to the garage?” Michael touched Nikki's elbow, stopping her from entering before he could. Her annoyance clouded the link, but he ignored her, his gaze searching the darkness for any sign of life—or unlife—below in the basement. Nothing moved, and the only heartbeats he could hear were Nikki's and Jake's. Both were erratic.

"One does,” Jake said, locking the door behind them. “But there are several security cameras in the structure, and they're monitored twenty-four hours a day."

"Did the cops check the tapes?” Nikki asked, her voice soft yet edged with tension. He wondered what it was she sensed.

"Yeah, but they didn't find anything,” Jake said. “Whoever took Dale didn't take her out through the parking garage."

Nikki's flashlight beam swept across the darkness. He wondered why she was bothering. Her night sight was almost as good as his these days. If he could see in this darkness, she certainly should be able to.

Not that there was anything to actually see. He swept his gaze past the huge clumps of machinery and frowned. Nothing stirred, and yet something waited in the far corner. A hint of depravity and death. Frown deepening, he led the way down the stairs. Both Nikki and Jake made a racket on the metal steps and the noise seemed to echo across the room.

"Are the garage cameras still being monitored?"

"Yep,” Jake said. “And I checked them earlier. Nikki's attacker didn't appear on any of them."

No surprise there. Michael reached the basement floor then stopped. Nikki paused beside him, and apprehension stirred the link.

"There's something here,” she said.

"Yes,” he replied, wrapping his fingers around hers. “But I'm not sure what."

"It doesn't feel human, whatever it is.” Though her voice was steady, her trepidation shimmered through him.

"Vampire?” Jake queried, stopping on the last step behind them.

"No.” Michael glanced at him, noticing for the first time the slight bulge in his jacket pocket. “And you know from experience guns are not an effective weapon against them."

Jake merely grinned. “Maybe, but it sure as hell makes me feel a little safer. You have to let an old man have his illusions."

Nikki snorted softly. “Old man my ass. You could probably outrun me, bad heart and all."

"Damn right, especially if it's a pack of vampires on our tails.” Though he grinned, his tension was evident in the set of his shoulders. “So if it's not a vampire, what the hell is it?"

"Something that isn't scared by a lot of noise,” she muttered. “Something that has been dead for some time."

Jake groaned. “Not a zombie. That's all we need to complete the party right now."

"No, it's not a zombie,” Michael said. “You'd be able to smell it by now if it was."

"What then?"

"I don't know.” He met Nikki's narrowed gaze and almost smiled. She wasn't going to let him get two steps away from her side—not that he wanted to, especially until he knew why that vampire had been sent after her. “Keep close behind me. If you sense anything, tell me, no matter how insignificant you think it is."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded. He tugged her forward and switched to the infrared of his vampire vision. The cloak of darkness lifted completely, and a hazy, humanoid figure appeared in the far corner of the room. One that didn't have a heartbeat or take a breath.

He wove his way through the network of noisy machines and air conditioning units and approached the far wall. The body he could see was behind it.

Nikki stopped in front of the wall and pressed her right hand against the plaster. “It's not solid,” she murmured. “And it holds back death."

He glanced at her quickly. Her expression was as distant as her thoughts, and unease slithered through him. Was this yet another mutation of her psychometry talent? When he'd shared his life force and made her as immortal as he, had he somehow altered her psychic essence? Even now he wasn't sure, and neither he nor Seline had been able to find much in the old texts about thralls—other than one warning that stated it was better not to turn those with psychic talents. It didn't say why, which was damned frustrating. Seline was still looking, but he had a horrible feeling they'd better hasten the search. It wasn't just her talents mutating. There were signs of other changes too—like her night sight.

"Sure looks solid,” Jake said into the silence. He slapped the wall, then frowned and stepped back, running the light across the ceiling and down to the machines behind them. “You know, I thought there was more of a gap between the wall and this unit."

"Maybe there once was—there's another wall behind this one,” Michael commented, his attention still on Nikki. She was moving away, her fingers trailing across the wall, as if feeling for something. “There is a gap of about four feet separating them."

Jake frowned. “Why would anyone want to build a false wall like this?"

"Maybe someone who wants to conceal a hidden entrance."

Nikki stopped near the end of the wall, and energy stirred, tingling briefly across his skin.

"Here,” she murmured. “There's an entrance here."

Jake flashed his light across the plaster. “Nik, that wall is as solid as the rest of it."

Michael probed the wall with his fingers and found a hairline crack in the plaster, one that extended ceiling to floor. He moved around Nikki and found another four feet along. Looked up. There was a minute gap between the ceiling and the wall, barely noticeable and yet telling. As was the metal rod he could see in the middle of the plaster, thrusting from the ceiling into the floor.

"She's right. It's a doorway of some kind.” He pressed the wall near the crack. He could see the catch—it was just a matter of finding the right way to spring it.

Nikki blinked and for a second looked like a dreamer just awakening from a dream. “The entrance is on this side, the exit your side.” She reached up on tippy-toes and pressed her palm against the wall. The whole wall rotated aside, revealing a two-foot gap.

The air that rushed out was thick with age and death. Nikki shuddered, her face white. “There's a body in there somewhere."

He caught her fingers, squeezing them in gentle reassurance. “Yes. Do you wish to remain here while I check it out?"

Her gaze flashed to his. “I think you already know the answer to that."

He smiled grimly and tugged her forward. “Then prepare for the worst. It will not be a pretty sight. This one has been dead for a while."

"How can you tell?” Jake asked as he followed them in. The beam of his flashlight danced across the darkness, crisscrossing Nikki's and creating crazy patterns on the cobwebbed brick walls.

"I am a vampire, remember. I saw the body long before you were able to smell it."

"Even through the walls?"

"Yes."

"Damn—"

Jake's voice died as the beam of the flashlights centered on a huddled, shapeless form at the far end of the small gap. Beside it, there was a hole that led into a deeper darkness. Nikki stopped abruptly, as did Jake.

"Someone's been feasting on the poor fellow,” she said, voice holding a slight tremor.

Her revulsion seemed to curl through the link, a wave of horror that stirred his senses, even though death and he were old companions.

"Probably rats coming up from the sewer,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it. He squatted beside the body. It was a male, and what remained of his clothes indicated he was a guard of some kind—probably hotel security. If the state of decay was anything to go by, he'd been dead a good two months, if not more—though it was hard to be certain because damp conditions like this often hastened decomposition.

"Has the hotel had any personnel go missing of late?” he asked, examining the corpse's neck and arms.

"Not since I've been here,” Jake said. “But I've only been here a month. It could have happened earlier."

"Can you check the files? Ask around?"

"Yep.” Jake hesitated. “Was he killed by vampires?"

"Yes.” Given the extent and manner of his injuries, it was undoubtedly fledglings who'd attacked him. No vampire who'd been on this earth any length of time was this messy. Or this careless. Leaving a body here like this was nothing short of stupidity—unless, of course, they didn't intend to hang around all that long.

The vampire who attacked me was a fledgling.

He met Nikki's gaze. He saw in her expressive eyes the fear so evident in her thoughts, yet he knew it wasn't fear of the darkness or the body or even the fledglings. It was fear of what awaited them. An evil they couldn't yet see, but whose presence tainted the very air around them.

Not that he could feel anything beyond the chill of the stinking air. Whoever was behind the kidnappings was nowhere close; otherwise, he would have been able to sense their presence. The evil he could smell was little more than a psychic overflow from Nikki. Somehow, she was sharing what she sensed with him. He wondered if it was deliberate, or yet another worrying mutation of her abilities.

It's a presence that doesn't feel very old, he said.

Jasper wasn't very old, either. Nor was Cordell. She hesitated, rubbing her arms. This feels far worse than either of those.

If the mutilations were anything to go by, then yes, it was. It's not near, Nikki. We're safe for the moment.

For the moment. Her trepidation swam around him, yet it was a fear he knew she would not retreat from. Aloud, she said, “Where does that hole lead?"

"A sewer tunnel, by the look of it."

"Wonderful,” she muttered. “And here I am wearing only sneakers."

He smiled. “The nasty stuff is all piped."

She snorted. “A lot of shit flows down the storm drains, you know, and I'm not just talking about human waste."

"You could stay here if you want."

She raised an eyebrow. “One of these days you're going to get sick of hearing the answer to that question."

"Never.” Nor would he stop asking it. Her safety would always be a priority, whether she liked it or not. He threaded his fingers through the warmth of hers again. “Let's go."

They climbed carefully through the gap. The brick tunnel beyond was little more than three feet wide and five feet high. Not much room for maneuvering if they were discovered.

"They've gone to some trouble to conceal that sewer entrance,” Jake said, sweeping the light left and right as he came through the hole. “Wonder why?"

Michael shrugged, his reply almost absent as he listened to the silence for movement. “It would suggest the hotel has some major part to play in their schemes."

"But they haven't yet hit the same place twice, so why go to the bother of building a false wall?"

"Maybe they haven't hit the same place twice simply because they haven't yet needed to."

Through the hushed darkness came the tremulous sound of a heartbeat. It was distant, full of fear, full of pain. If it was Mark Wainwright's wife, then she needed medical help fast. Even from this distance it was evident her heart was struggling.

"This way,” he said, leading them to the right.

"Are there any vampires nearby?” Nikki's soft question seemed to melt into the darkness, a hushed sound edged with apprehension.

He glanced back at her. Her eyes gleamed with a cold, gold fire in the shadowed darkness that surrounded them, looking almost otherworldly. His uneasiness rose several notches. He wished he'd taken a chance and talked to Elizabeth about thralls. She probably had forgotten more than they could ever discover in the old texts. But Elizabeth was dead, and it was too late now for regrets. He just had to hope Seline could find some clue as to what might be happening to Nikki. And him.

"Not yet. Why?"

She hesitated. “There's something here. An essence, watching us. And I hear voices. Lots of voices."

He couldn't hear anything, which in itself didn't mean anything. If she was sensing the other vampire, maybe she was also hearing what he could hear.

And if the vampire behind all this was clairvoyant, he could certainly be watching them through psychic means. It would explain how he'd known about Nikki, and why he'd sent someone to kill her. But it still didn't explain how she could sense him. “We'd better hurry."

Because if they were being watched, they'd undoubtedly face opposition as soon as they got anywhere near Dale Wainwright. That he couldn't hear or smell another vampire just yet didn't mean anything—not when even the youngest of vampires could move faster than the wind.

They continued on, quickly making their way through the damp, dirty darkness. The twin beams of the flashlights danced across the path ahead, highlighting the rubbish swept down from the streets above.

"Is it true alligators can be found in sewers,” Jake asked, swinging his light not at the water near his feet but toward the slimy roof they had to bend to avoid.

They came to a junction, and Michael stopped, studying each tunnel arm. “I've traveled through a few sewers in my time and have yet to come across one.” The heartbeat was coming from his left. He tugged Nikki in that direction.

"That's almost disappointing,” Jake said. “I rather liked the myth of giant alligators roaming the sewers, munching on the unwary."

"There's something much worse that alligators roaming these sewers ready to munch on the unwary,” Nikki said. Her gaze met Michael's, filled with the fear beginning to explode through the link. “They're coming."

He still couldn't sense anything other than Mark Wainwright's wife, but he didn't doubt her. In many ways, her senses were far more powerful than his. “We haven't got that much farther to go. Let's move it."

They splashed through the shallows, the twin beams of light creating crazy patterns across the darkness ahead. The tremulous sound of the heartbeat got stronger, but across it, he could now hear others.

Six of them.

They came to another junction and skidded to a halt. In the middle of the intersection lay a scantily-clad body. She hadn't been dead long—a little less than an hour, if the heat still dying in her body was any indication.

Jake's light swept across the sad form. “Hooker. Probably hasn't even been missed yet."

"No.” Michael released Nikki's hand then stepped over the woman's body. The tunnel directly ahead had been walled off except for a doorway. The unsteady heartbeat was coming from inside.

"No woman deserves to die the way this woman did,” Nikki said softly. “Not even a prostitute."

Michael glanced back at her. She was still standing near the body, her arms crossed, her expression a mix of horror and sorrow. But as much as he wanted to walk over and take her in his arms to offer the comfort she so clearly needed, he didn't. Maybe it would convince her of the futility of her quest to share his life, because this death was far from the worst she would ever see if she did.

"Death is an ever-present danger of the trade, and every client a potential nut case,” Jake said with very little sympathy in his voice. He moved around the body and centered his light on the door. “Odd place to build a wall, isn't it?"

"It's a cell. Dale Wainwright is in there."

Michael twisted the handle, but the door was locked. So he leaned a shoulder against it and pushed as hard as he could. The door had been built to withstand the strength of a human, not a vampire, and it gave way with very little resistance.

"It's a wonder the Department of Public Works hasn't done anything about this,” Jake said. “It would surely be stuffing up the storm water flow."

"Remember that most vampires can easily read and control a human mind. People might have been sent down here to investigate, but maybe they report back only what they're told to report back.” Michael glanced over his shoulder. Nikki was studying the shadows behind them, her thoughts a haze of rising dread.

I know they're close, Nikki. We have to move as quickly as we can.

We won't make it.

Had he been alone, he would have. But she knew that as much as he did. We can try.

She studied him for a moment, thoughts closed to him, then nodded and moved back to his side. He wrapped his fingers through hers again and entered the cell.

Dale Wainwright lay on filthy straw in one corner of the small room. She was naked, curled up like a babe, her breathing rapid, pulse weak and irregular. Even though he wasn't using the infrared of his vampire vision, he could see the bruises marring her torso and legs. She'd been sexually assaulted more than once already.

Anger rose like a wave. He'd never understood the mentality that enjoyed inflicting pain on others—even though he'd been turned by a woman who'd certainly thrived on it. But at least Elizabeth had restricted her games to those she'd turned. Most of the time, anyway.

Jake's soft curse filled the night, a sound Michael felt like echoing. Nikki disentangled her fingers from his and hurried over.

"Dale's alive.” She stripped off her sweater and draped it over the other woman. “But she needs help fast. Jake, you got your cell phone handy?"

"Certainly have."

Behind them, the darkness came alive with the sensation of evil. The time to escape or to call for help had slipped away. Michael wrapped a hand around the phone, preventing Jake from dialing.

"Wait,” he said softly. “Because we are no longer alone."