For a second, Nikki froze, like a deer caught in the glare of headlights. Farmer's laughter spun around her, cold and victorious. Her first instinct was to pull away and break the connection between them, but she resisted the urge. If they were going to stop this man, they needed to know more about him, and that might only be achieved by actually talking to him.

I know how your mind works, remember, he said, his mind voice devoid of any emotion, yet somehow chilling. It was not hard to guess you'd try something like this.

Haven't you done enough to her? she spat back. Leave her some dignity in death, at least.

Why should I? They gave me no dignity in life.

School children are notoriously cruel. That's a fact of life. Something we all had to live with at one time or another.

But these twelve were not children. They were adults. There were no excuses for what they did.

Just as there was no excuse for taking over the minds of those two young women, forcing them to get drunk then jump off the roof. Though it was a guess, she knew it was a fairly safe one. There was really no other sensible explanation for what had happened—not that the authorities would ever consider that a sensible explanation.

An easy death, compared to the hell they gave me.

Or the death you're now giving the remaining ten.

His laughter spun around her, a flat sound that chilled her very soul. You are very clever—but not clever enough.

Malevolence swirled, and the sense of impending doom hit her like a punch in the stomach. Winded, chilled, she somehow wrenched her hands away from Dale's forehead and opened her eyes. And saw the other woman open hers. But there was no life in her blue gaze. No humanity. Only an evil colder than hell.

"Mine,” she said. It was a feminine voice, yet somehow it was also Farmer's.

Silver flashed through the air. With a cry of fear, Nikki stumbled back. Heat seared along her arm.

"Where the hell did that come from?” Jake shouted, rushing for the bed along with Mark.

Dale's fist flew, knocking them both away, her strength seemingly inhuman. She wrenched the wires and sensors from her body, then thrust the sheet aside. Nikki flung out her hand and stopped her kinetically. Blood dripped from the wound on Nikki's arm, pooling at her feet. Another chill ran across her skin. It was an omen, but of what she wasn't sure.

Dale screamed and twisted, her movements furious, her face turning a mottled sort of red.

Nurses and doctors appeared from everywhere. “What's going on here?” one said. He took one look at Dale and swore under his breath. “All of you—out. Now."

"I wouldn't advise that,” Jake said, climbing to his feet and rubbing his chin.

The doctor glared at him. “Nurse, get security. I want these people out of here.” He grabbed a needle from the trolley one of the nurses had pushed in and walked toward the bed.

A second nurse grabbed Nikki's arm and wrenched her away. She broke the woman's grip with a sharp twist, but by then her kinetic hold had slipped. Dale screamed. She kicked the needle from the doctor's hand then smashed him sideways with a clenched fist. Nurses ran to help him but were just as easily swatted away. Dale rose on the bed and launched herself across the room—the knife a deadly point at the end of her human arrow.

Nikki hit her again with kinetic energy, holding her still and high above the floor. Sweat trickled down the side of her face, and pain as sharp as the knife aimed at her heart slithered through her brain.

"Jake,” she groaned out, ignoring the gasps around her. “Grab the knife off her."

She lowered Dale several feet. Jake pushed past the nurses and pried the knife from Dale's stiff fingers. She screamed in rage, fighting Nikki's hold on her. The arrowheads of pain became a landslide, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold her for much longer. Not after her efforts in the sewers.

"Now, grab a bandage or something to tie her hands and feet."

He found a bandage on the trolley and quickly did as she asked. “Now, doctor,” she ground out. “When I place Dale back on the bed, you be ready with that sedative, because I'm not going to be able to hold her much longer."

He climbed to his feet and readied another sedative. Nikki thrust Dale towards the bed, dumping her none too gently on top of the twisted sheets. Nurses jumped on her, holding her down as the doctor injected her. Within minutes, the fight went out of her.

"God almighty, what on earth happened there?” Mark stared at her, a mix of confusion and fear in his gaze.

Knowing she was psychic and actually seeing those skills in action were obviously two very different realities. “The man who attacked your wife is a powerful telepath. He was controlling your wife's actions just now."

"But—” His voice faded as he ran a hand across his bald head. “Remember what I said. Justice is no answer here."

Jake placed a hand on Mark's arm. “He'll get what's coming to him, never fear."

The back of Nikki's neck tingled in warning. She turned. Michael was close—and the very lack of emotion in the link told her he was furious.

He stepped into the room a moment later. His dark gaze stabbed towards her, and she met it defiantly. She'd done nothing truly wrong. Granted, attempting to read Dale's memories while he wasn't there was a bit foolish. But he wasn't always going to be around, and she really did have to learn to control her growing gifts. No matter how dangerous that might be.

Power swept the room. Everyone froze but Jake and her. “Out, both of you,” Michael said, his soft voice holding no hint of the anger she could feel in him.

She shared a glance with Jake, then walked from the room. Jake swiped an antiseptic swab and another bandage from the medical cart, grabbing her arm as they entered the corridor.

"What's he doing?” he asked, as he began to patch the wound on her forearm.

"As a guess, wiping everyone's memory of what just happened.” She hesitated as Michael walked over to Dale. “And probably forming some sort of block in Dale's mind so that Farmer can't use her like that again."

"Well, at least something good will have come from this whole mess.” He finished bandaging her arm, then added, “You want me to hang around when we get back to the hotel?"

She smiled and leaned forward to kiss his leathery cheek. “Thanks, but I don't need a protector. What I need is a piece of two-by-four to knock some sense into Michael's thick skull."

Jake hesitated. “That's a two-way street, you know. You can't expect him to compromise his beliefs when you're not willing to do the same."

Oh, great. Now Jake was stepping towards Michael's side of the fence as well. Or maybe Michael had simply rearranged Jake's thoughts. She scowled at him. “What do you mean?"

Jake waved a hand toward Michael. “I can understand your need to be a part of what he does. But you've also got to take into account that there will be cases you simply can't get involved in—for whatever reason."

"Don't you think I know that?” she said, trying to curb her irritation. “The whole problem I have is the fact that he won't let me get involved in any way. He won't tell me anything about the Circle, or Seline, or his missions. Everything I know I've dragged out of him. He has a whole separate life I know nothing about. We don't talk about it, ever."

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like there's a little jealousy happening there."

She blinked. Was she jealous? Maybe. In many ways, the Circle and Seline demanded—and got—as much of his attention as she did. “Put yourself in my shoes—or better yet, remember back to when you and Mary had just met. How would you have felt if Mary had a whole separate career you knew nothing about? One that involved lots of other men and took her away from your side a good half of the year?"

"I'd have been as pissed as hell."

"Exactly."

"You can trust Michael, though. He doesn't seem the straying type."

She waved the comment away. She did trust Michael and certainly wasn't worried about him straying sexually. “The point is, wouldn't you have at least wanted to find out more about Mary's other life?"

"Yes.” He paused. “But that's not all you're asking for, is it?"

No. But was it asking too much to become a part of that other life—even if it was only a minor part? She didn't think so.

Especially when he knew just about everything there was to know about her.

"What are you going to do if he continues to refuse?” Jake added softly.

She thrust a hand through her hair. “I don't know.” Her gaze drifted back to Michael. “I just don't know."

But she had a horrible feeling that unless things changed dramatically in the next week or so, she might have to carry through with her threat to leave him. Because as much as leaving would break her heart, it was better than the slow death she suffered every time he went away.

She couldn't survive that happening time and again. Not for the next ten years, let alone the next fifty. Or one hundred.

Maybe she was being selfish. Maybe she should just shut up and be thankful she'd found a man who loved her as much as he did.

But she just wasn't built that way. She couldn't be part-time. And part of the reason was her memories of her parents relationship. They did everything together—even die—and right to the end they'd been extremely happy. Maybe she was fantasizing it a little—after all, they'd died when she was barely a teenager. Maybe it all wasn't as rosy as she remembered. But to this day she could still recall the looks they'd shared, the way they'd touched, the way they'd talked over every decision—and she'd always wanted that sort of relationship. The sort that lasted through thick and thin. The sort that shared good times and bad.And if Michael wasn't willing to shift from his comfortable plane of existence and include her more fully in his life, then the love they shared would mean little in the end.

Because she knew from bitter experience love just wasn't enough.

Michael leaned against the wall and watched the elevator numbers rise. When he'd finally calmed down enough to open the link between them, he found it locked down just as tight from her end. Nor had she argued when he'd curtly ordered her back to the hotel. Which undoubtedly meant she was furious, though why, he had no idea. She was the one risking her life with acts of stupidity.

He took a deep breath, crossing his arms as the elevator came to a halt on their floor. Nikki stepped out alone, which surprised him. He'd half expected her to drag Jake along to help argue her case.

She hesitated when her gaze met his, and anger singed the air between them. Then her gaze slithered away, and the anger disappeared. Or rather, was re-shuttered.

"You had a key,” she snapped. “You didn't have to wait for me."

"I know I didn't,” he replied evenly. “I wanted to."

"Didn't trust me to do as ordered, huh?” She swiped her key card through the slot then shoved open the door.

"I just wanted to make sure you got here safely."

"Likely story.” She threw off her coat and stalked over to the minibar. “Can't have the little woman straying too far off the leash now, can we?"

His own anger rose again. “Damn it, Nikki, I had every right to be furious. What you were trying to do was stupid and dangerous, and you know it."

"What I was trying to do was my job!” She grabbed a soda out of the fridge and slammed the door shut. “I am a private investigator, in case you've conveniently forgotten that."

"You also know how dangerous it is trying to enter someone's mind like that. Especially when the man who attacked that person has a psychic connection to both of you."

She popped the top off the soda. Froth bubbled over the lip and dripped onto her shoes. She didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn't care.

"So I should just sit around and do nothing?"

He clenched his fists, then flexed them when he realized what he was doing. “I'm not saying—"

"Yes, you are,” she bit back. “You don't want me using my talents if you're not there. You don't want me and Jake investigating without you coming along. So tell me, what else am I supposed to do?"

"What you're not supposed to do is run off and try some stupid stunt without me!” His voice had risen slightly, despite his efforts to keep calm. “Do you realize your actions have basically destroyed any chance we have of getting information from Dale's memories? Farmer made sure he blurred them into an indecipherable mess. If there was ever a chance of finding a clue, it's gone now."

Tears touched her eyes and were just as quickly blinked away. He half reached out to comfort her, despite the fury that still chased through him, but she spun away, moving to the other side of the room.

"Don't,” she said flatly.

He raised an eyebrow, confused. “Don't what?"

"Don't touch me, don't kiss me. I won't be sidetracked, not this time."

Exasperation rose. “I wasn't trying—"

"Like hell. It's a ploy you've used many times before when the conversation turns to a topic you don't like."

He stared at her for a minute then strode across to the refrigerator to get a drink himself—but something far stronger than a soda.

"I have no intention of sidetracking the conversation today, believe me.” He poured himself a bourbon and added a few ice cubes.

"At least we've reached agreement on something, then."

He took a drink and turned to her again. “Farmer is a vampire,” he said, keeping his voice flat. “He's not a fledgling, and he could overpower you in a second flat. Especially when you've overextended your abilities, as you did today."

She returned his gaze defiantly. “Jasper took longer than a minute to overpower me, and I'd certainly extended my abilities that day."

Yes, she had. And she'd damn near died because of it. “It was nearing dawn when Jasper attacked. It had weakened him."

"Yet it still took the two of us to take him down.” She hesitated, glaring at him. “It was teamwork that killed Jasper that day. You do know what teamwork is, don't you?"

He clenched the glass so hard his hand was shaking, and liquid splashed over his fingers. “Sarcasm will get you nowhere."

"Neither will trying to talk sanely and rationally on this matter, apparently."

"Damn it, are you trying to get yourself killed?” His voice rose several notches.

"No!"

"Then why insist on joining me on Circle missions? You're not a killer, Nikki, and that is what I do. I kill. I murder them in cold blood, and then I walk away. Is that what you're so anxious to become a part of?"

Her face paled, but her chin still rose. “If that's all you do, then why did you save my life in that old house near the park? We hadn't even met then, so I meant nothing to you. It would have been easy to kill Jasper if he'd been distracted by feeding off my body. And why did you agree to send Rachel to the Circle to see if she could be saved if all you ever do is kill the bad things and walk away?"

"Neither of those were exactly normal cases."

"How would I know when you won't even discuss what you do with me?"

"I have spent too many years in darkness. I don't want to bring that into what we have."

"All we have is great sex,” she shot back. “And you know what? It's a good foundation, but it's not enough to build a lasting relationship on. That takes trust, honesty and a willingness to compromise occasionally."

"So you're saying you don't trust me?"

"No, I'm saying you don't trust me. Nor are you honest with me. Not completely, not ever. And just where in hell have you met me halfway of late?"

"Just where in the hell have you met me halfway? This is a two-way street, Nikki. You can't keep demanding I consider your wants if you're not willing to do the same."

She studied him for a moment, then looked away. “You know, Jake said much the same thing to me this afternoon."

Michael raised an eyebrow. That was surprising, given Jake was fiercely protective of Nikki. The two were more like father and daughter than boss and employee.

"And?"

"And you're both right. To a degree, I am being unreasonable. But so are you."

Which put them right back to square one. They were arguing in circles and getting nowhere. “Nikki—"

She held up her hand. “For once, will you just shut up and listen to me?"

He downed his drink and slammed the empty glass down on the nearby shelf. “Why should I, when you refuse to offer me the same courtesy?"

"I've heard all your arguments!” Anger sparked her eyes, roughened her voice. “That's all I ever hear whenever I bring this subject up. ‘What I do is too dangerous', or, ‘I don't want the darkness in my life to touch you', et cetera, et cetera. Well, guess what? The darkness is not just something you do, it's a part of who you are."

"A part that nearly killed you not so long ago.” And the nightmare of waking with her blood on his lips and her close to death was not something he wanted to relive.

"But—"

"No buts, Nikki.” He was as aware of her fury as he was his own, despite the fact the link was still shut down tight. “You asked me to compromise? Fine. I will. Ask anything you like about Seline, the Circle, or my past, and I'll answer you. Just don't ask to accompany me on missions, because the answer is still no. It's far too dangerous for both of us.” If only because worry about her safety would take his attention from what he was supposed to do and possibly lead to mistakes. Or death.

"Damn it, I know I could never go on all your missions, but surely there are some—"

"There are none. Jasper is the least of the fiends that I have hunted, believe me."

"But I found Jasper and Cordell all by myself. Keeping me locked away from what you do is no guarantee that I'll keep safe."

"Maybe. But the chances of you remaining safe are a lot higher."

She considered him for a moment. Something in her amber gaze sent a shiver through his soul. If he wasn't very careful, she'd walk away. The resolution was there in her eyes.

"So, when you told me yesterday you'd consider the matter, it was nothing more than another lie,” she said softly.

"No, it wasn't. I did consider. I just didn't change my mind."

"So how is a willingness to share some of your history with me compromising? I thought that was something all couples did."

"Perhaps it is. Remember, I've never been part of a couple before."

"I was. You know, for all that Tommy tried to control my abilities—and by default, me—he let me in. I knew Tommy. Knew everything there was to know about him. There were no secrets between us."

Her voice was still remote, flat. The chill running through him intensified. It wasn't supposed to be going like this. For the first time in his life, it felt like he was on a train running full bore out of control, and he didn't like the sensation one bit. “Tommy was only sixteen. He didn't have many years behind him to gather secrets."

"But he'd lived on the streets since he was eight. He'd seen the worst life could throw at someone that young. He was a thief, a prostitute, and in the end, a murderer. Yet he wasn't afraid to let me see the darkness in his soul. Why are you?"

"Right now, it's not the darkness in me that I fear might hurt you. It's the darkness in others.” Though that in itself wasn't entirely the truth. He would always fear the darkness in him. He knew what it—he—was capable of doing when that darkness was allowed free rein.

"I know that.” She hesitated, taking a sip of her drink. “And I've considered what I'd be stepping into, as you asked me to. I've thought about Jasper and Cordell and Farmer."

The link between them was still shut, leaving him with no avenue to judge her thoughts beyond her expression, body language and the odd flicker of emotion that swirled between them. And those three things were scaring the hell out of him.

"And it strikes me that maybe I have something to offer this Circle of yours,” she continued softly. “You defeated Jasper and Cordell with my help, remember. You certainly wouldn't have found Dale or Anne Harris alive had it not been for my gifts. In cases like this, where there are lives at risk, I can help you."

Yes, she could. There was no doubt about that. But the risks she'd be facing were enormous, and there was no way on Earth he'd place her safety on the line to save the life of another.

"Nikki, I love you—"

"That's not the damn point! I'm tired of only being told half-truths. I'm tired of having to fight for every bit of information about Seline and the Circle. But most of all, I'm tired of only being part-time."

"You're not—"

She made a chopping motion with her hand, spilling soda again. “I am. In the four months we've been living together, you've been away nearly two of those months. And half that time, you couldn't even remain in contact with me."

"You knew from the start that was a possibility."

She acknowledged his words with a nod. “What I didn't know was just how much I'd wanted a relationship like the one my parents had. They were equals in every sense of the word. All risks, all decisions, were shared. Granted, the risks in our case are way higher, but the fact is, we haven't got that sort of relationship, Michael. You order, I do. No discussion, end of story.” She hesitated and took a deep breath. “Well, it will be the end of the story, unless you're willing to change your stance a little."

He stared at her. He couldn't do anything else when it felt like a fist of ice had formed around his heart and squeezed it tight. “That's blackmail.” Emotional blackmail.

"Maybe it is. Or maybe it's just self-preservation.” She shrugged. “Four months ago, you were willing to walk away from us because you truly believed I would be better off without you in my life. Well, I truly believe that unless you let me into your life—your whole life—you're going to destroy us both. And I won't let that happen. I'd rather walk away now."

Though her face was as impassive as ever, her dark amber eyes glittered with unshed tears. And determination. She would do this, of that he had no doubt.

He wouldn't give in to blackmail, but by the same token, he didn't want to lose her. She was his sunshine, his heart. His soul. If she walked away, he'd have nothing left but the darkness.

But he had to keep on arguing, even though he sensed the futility. “Nikki, you can't possibly cope with what I have to deal with day in and day out."

"How do either of us know that unless you let me try? I'm not asking to be involved in every case—just some."

Some would lead to all, and they both knew it. “Even one might be one too many."

The tears in her eyes threatened to well over. The fist around his heart clenched tighter, threatening to splinter it into a million jagged pieces.

"So you're not willing to even consider it?” she asked softly.

No, he wasn't. God, he should have followed his instincts and just walked away four months ago ... but he hadn't. He'd let his heart rule his mind and, despite everything, he didn't regret it. “I'm not willing to lose you, either."

"Then where does that leave us?"

At an impasse. One that seemed to have no through tunnel. “I won't be blackmailed, Nikki.” The bitterness he was feeling, the anger at what she was trying to force, crept into his voice. And he knew that this might destroy them just as easily as anything else.

A solitary tear broke the dam in her eyes and rolled down her cheek. He clenched his fist and stared at her, willing her to see what she was doing to them. Willing her to revoke her ultimatum and just let things be.

Neither moved. He wished he could read her thoughts, wished he could force the link open and taste the rainbow of her emotions. But he couldn't, simply because doing either would truly spell the end for them.

After several seconds, she placed the soda on the coffee table and walked towards him. She stopped so close that all he could smell was cinnamon, vanilla and desire. Her gaze searched his, then she rose on her toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. It felt like he'd been touched by fire—a fire that seared down to his soul and set his body alight.

He groaned and clasped his arms around her, pulling her close. He deepened the kiss, tasting her mouth, her neck. She sighed, a sound that was more a groan, then her fingers were on his shirt, impatiently pulling it free of his jeans before tugging at the buttons. It was an urgency he understood only too well. He needed her in a way he'd never needed her before. Needed to taste and touch and feel her, imprint every pore of her in his mind. Needed to lose himself deep inside her.

He pulled off her sweater, then nipped at the hard buds of her breasts through the lace of her bra. She shuddered, arching into him as her hand slipped down his stomach and undid his jeans. Too fast, he thought, as she touched him. But right then, he could no more stop himself than he could that runaway train.

He ripped loose her bra, then pushed down her jeans. She stepped free quickly, taking her panties with them. He kicked out of his jeans, then wrapped an arm around her waist and picked her up, kissing her hard as he carried her over to the table. He moved his mouth down the long line of her neck, kissing and nipping, blazing a trail downwards. His blood beat a tattoo of urgency through his body, and every muscle quivered with the need to sheath himself deep inside her. But not yet. Not just yet.

He thrust his tongue into her moistness, tasting her, teasing her, until her breath began to quicken and the shudders took hold.Only then did he pull her close and thrust deep inside her. Her soft moan was a sound he echoed. He pushed harder, wanting, needing, to claim every inch of her. Her breathless cries washed across him, sharpening his urgency, urging him to greater heights. Her muscles contracted against him, enveloping him in heat, bringing him closer to the edge. He claimed her mouth and kissed her ferociously. Their tongues duelled, the rhythm resonant of his thrusting hips.

The red tide rose, becoming a wall of pleasure he could not deny. His movements quickened. Her gasps reached a second crescendo, and her cries echoed in his ears as her body bucked against his. He came—a hot, torrential release whose force tore her name from his lips and sent his body rigid.

This was more than just great sex. More than just love. It was a completeness. A wholeness. Surely she had to see that. He leaned against her, breathing in the warm scent of her and listening to the rapid pounding of their hearts. His body stirred.

It wasn't enough. Not yet.

Without a word, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. They made love through the rest of the afternoon, speaking with actions not words, until their bodies could take no more and they fell asleep.

It was only when he woke and saw he was alone in the bed that he realized she had, in her own way, just said good-bye.