Nikki climbed out of the limousine and breathed deep. The night air was crisp, laced with balsam and other scents she couldn't quite define. Lights blazed in the resort's lobby, a warmth that was beckoning, inviting. The hotel seemed to rise out of the land itself, the lobby a mix of stone and wood that flowed from a natural outcropping of rock and became a building.

Michael touched her back, and warmth crept down her spine.

"Ready?” he said, his gaze meeting hers.

Wariness warred with amusement in the dark depths of his eyes. She wondered why. “As I'll ever be."

She slipped her arm through his and felt tension slither through his muscles. He wasn't as relaxed with this situation as he liked to appear. And she was going to make sure he got a damn sight more uncomfortable, unless he came to his senses.

A porter collected their bags and led them toward the main entrance. Twenty steps swept them down into a lobby area that simply took her breath away. The walls were made of redwood, as was the ceiling, which seemed to soar far above her. Sandstone pillars supported it yet in no way dominated the room. Directly opposite the stairs, a two-story high wall of windows stared out over the dark plains. By day, she had no doubt that they'd provide amazing views over the nearby ring of mountains. Even though it was the middle of summer, flames danced in the sandstone fireplaces to the left and right of the entrance, lending the room a welcoming amber glow.

"I'm glad I'm not paying for this,” she muttered. It was doubtful if even the agency's travel account would offer enough to stay here more than a couple of nights.

"Nothing but the best for you, my love,” he said and squeezed her hand.

Surprised more by the warmth in his voice than the words themselves, she looked up. His gaze flickered to the right in warning. Ginger was standing near one of the pillars, watching them.

She looked ... different, somehow. A little taller, a little fuller, and a lot more color in her skin.

Definitely someone to keep an eye on, Nikki thought. As was Rodeman. She had a suspicion he was slated to be the next ultra-rich guy to go missing. But just how deeply was Ginger involved in the scheme? Was she merely bait, or something more?

Michael signed the register, then took her arm again as the porter led them through the lounge and up another set of stairs. She could feel the weight of Ginger's stare long after they'd left the area.

Their room was another revelation. Her whole damn apartment wasn't as big as their suite appeared to be. The soaring ceiling and wall of windows were again a feature, but this time the wood on the walls was cedar, and the fireplace looked like it was built out of river rock rather than sandstone.

The bed was a platform affair and big enough to fit ten people in. She touched it, her fingers sinking into the silk-covered comforter. The mattress was firm, but not overly so. Just the way she liked it. The bathroom, to the right of the bed, had a spa big enough to hold a party in.

The porter placed their bags on the redwood-framed day bed that sat near the glass doors leading out onto the balcony, then collected his tip and left.

She sat down, grinning and patting the bed beside her. “Care to take it for a test run?"

"We are here to work and save lives, not play.” He walked across to the windows and clasped his hands behind his back, staring into the darkness.

She hadn't really expected him to say anything else. No doubt he'd already worked out a roster system to share the sleeping between the bed and the day bed.

"What's first then?"

"For you? Sleep.” His voice was remote. “I have to contact Seline and tell her I arrived safely. I'll also get her to check on Rodeman and his wife, see what she can find."

Power surged through the room, tingling across her skin and standing the hairs on end. Perhaps he was already attempting to connect telepathically with his boss.

"Which reminds me,” she said, rising from the bed. “I'm supposed to call Mary."

"Don't use the room phone,” he warned. “Just in case it's bugged. Use your cell phone."

She raised an eyebrow. “Why would they bug our phone? We only just got here—why would they even suspect us?"

"I have not lived as long as I have without being cautious, Nikki. Just do as I ask."

She frowned at his back and half wished she had something to throw at him. Being cautious was the reason she'd spent the last six months alone—and the reason she'd spend the future alone if she couldn't convince him otherwise. She walked over to her bag and retrieved her cell phone. Mary answered on the second ring.

"Nikki—where are you?” Her voice was edged with tiredness and pain.

Fear constricted Nikki's throat, and her question came out a hoarse whisper. “How's Jake?"

"Still hanging in there, but it was touch and go an hour ago...” Mary hesitated, and her sob echoed down the line. “Oh God, I don't know what I'll do if I lose him."

How often had she said the same thing? Nikki closed her eyes, but tears squeezed past anyway. She couldn't do this. She couldn't stay here chasing after some errant teenager when two of the three people she loved most in the world were in such trouble.

"I'm coming home—"

"No! You can't. Promise me you won't, Nikki. You know how Jake is with the damn agency—the client is all-important. He wouldn't want you here. You know that."

She knew. But if he died while she was stuck here, and she didn't get the chance to say good-bye...

"Promise me you'll stay. Promise me you'll find the teenager for him."

"If you'll promise me you'll call if his condition worsens again. I need to be there if ... if..."

"I will. Take care."

"You too."

She hung up then dropped the phone into her bag. She couldn't lose Jake ... couldn't ... and yet the thought that she might lodged somewhere in her throat and made breathing almost impossible. Tears coursed warmth down her cheeks and splashed onto the carpet near her feet. She wrapped her arms around her body and tried to stop the shaking.

Hands touched her arms, turning her. She buried her face in Michael's chest and gave free rein to the anguish squeezing her heart so tight. He held her gently, his arms a safe harbor in which her tremors slowly eased.

"It'll be all right,” he said softly, his breath caressing warmth past her ear.

"No, it won't. It'll never be all right."

Because she still might be left alone even if he did survive. Mary had often talked about going back to San Francisco, the city where she and Jake had met, and the place where her family still ran a successful hotel business. This time, she might just convince him to make the move. Leaving her alone. Something she'd feared most of her life.

She bit her lip. I'm being selfish. As long as Jake survived, it didn't really matter where he lived. It wasn't as if she couldn't hop on a plane and visit him.

"Being alone is something we all fear, Nikki."

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. “Do you?"

His smile made her heart do odd things in her chest. He touched her face, his thumb trailing heat down her cheek as he wiped away her tears. “I fear it as much as anyone else, and for good reason. I have lived three hundred years alone. I know its taste and do not like it."

"Then why continue to push me away?"

"Because I fear seeing you dead more."

Anger surged. She wedged her arms between them and thrust him away. “So you'd rather see me miserable than dead? Great. Just great."

He sighed and thrust a hand through his hair. “We barely even know each other. We may share thoughts and we may share passion, but we have never once shared our dreams or our desires for the future. I do not know your favorite movie or color or food, or even what you like to read. And you know as little about me. How can you trust what you feel when we do not even know if what lies between us will last?"

What she felt had been strong enough to survive six months of not seeing him. Six months in which she'd swung between anger and aching loneliness. “But you won't even give us the chance to find any of those things out."

"No."

"You're a coward, you know that?"

His smile held a touch of sadness. “You will not change my mind, no matter what you do or say."

She glared at him for several minutes, then shook her head and swept up a room key from the coffee table. “I'm going for a walk."

"It's after midnight. You need to rest."

"I need fresh air more.” She stalked from the room and slammed the door behind her.

The sound echoed through the silence and, no doubt, woke the other guests. Michael took a step after her, then cursed and swung back to the window. She needed time alone, time to cool down ... and so did he. Time to forget the warmth of her touch, the smell of her hair. Time to forget his need to hold her and love her and never let her go.

He crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the window frame. In the darkness beyond the window, light flickered, distant flames of civilization. They looked lonely, those lights, lost in the darkness. He knew exactly how they felt.

But he shouldn't be thinking about Nikki or loneliness or anything else except what they were here to do. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Contact was instant.

Michael? Seline's mind voice seemed almost hesitant. You okay?

Fine. We've just arrived at the resort.

No problems?

A couple. One of the young vamps who attacked Nikki at the warehouse turned up at the airport, but he melted away before we could question him much.

You're slipping, Michael. You don't usually let fledglings get the better of you.

He snorted softly. Jasper had gotten the best of him for more years than he cared to remember. But he couldn't really regret that because if it hadn't been for Jasper he wouldn't have met Nikki. He didn't get away, Seline. He melted, literally.

Surprise rippled down the telepathic line. That's not possible.

Well, apparently it is.

Her amusement shimmered. My, don't we sound a little testy tonight. What's wrong—have a lover's tiff, did we?

Irritation swept through him. The last thing he needed right now was Seline dissecting his love life—not that he had one to dissect.

Ever heard of anything like that happening before?

Spontaneous melting? No, but I'll do a search through the files, see what I come up with. Anything else happen?

She was referring to events with Nikki, even if she didn't come out and say it. But that was something he had no intention of discussing. The old witch thought him a coward, too—something else she hadn't yet come out and said.

Yes. We came in with a couple who might just be our next victims. I want you to do a search on Lucas Rodeman—and pay particular attention to his wife, Ginger. He didn't bother describing them. Seline would see their images in his mind.

You suspect her?

Yes, and for two reasons. I couldn't touch her thoughts—or rather, there was nothing there to touch.

You're the strongest telepath I've ever met, Michael. That shouldn't be possible.

Shouldn't be, but it was. Up until now, Nikki had been the only other person he'd never been able to fully read.

There's more. Nikki did a reading on her and saw images of a man calling forth fire from rocks. She says Ginger isn't human, that she's a part of this place, neither good nor bad.

Is Nikki clairvoyant? I know you said she has psychic abilities.

Yes, but her fields are psychometry and telekinesis. And the fact that she had read Ginger had him worried. Developing a new psychic ability at her age was almost unheard of.

Keep an eye on her, Michael. It's unusual for something like that to be suddenly happening. Seline hesitated slightly. How much do you really know about thralls? Could it have something to do with that?

I don't think so. The original intent of a thrall was a servant, and only eternal life is given. Besides, I'm not clairvoyant, so it's hardly something she'd pick up in the transfer.

No, but you didn't make Nikki a thrall to make her a servant. You did it to save her life. Perhaps that is the difference.

That still doesn't explain why she's suddenly developed this extra ability.

No. Seline's unease sang down the line, and only succeeded in increasing his own. It may only be a singular event. It may not be a new talent emerging.

Her tone told him she didn't really think this was the case, and neither did he.

I'll do a search on thralls, see what I can find, she continued. And I'll check what entities we might have living in that area.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearing one. Nikki had been gone ten minutes. Good. I'll contact you tonight.

Do that. And remember what I said earlier. Her heart lies wrapped in darkness, Michael. Don't trust her.

He frowned. Trust who? Nikki?

But once again, the old witch cut the connection before he could finish his thoughts. He thumped the window frame. Damn, she could be annoying.

He glanced at his watch again. If Nikki didn't come back within the next five minutes, he was going after her—no matter how mad that might make her.

He couldn't let her wander around alone at night in a place where people had a habit of disappearing.

Nikki stopped beside the pool and stared into the crystal water. The lights had switched off as she'd come down the stairs, and only moonlight played on the gently rippling water. She glanced at her watch. It was close to one, so maybe the lights were on a timer. Most normal people were asleep at this hour, anyway, not wandering the night as furious as hell.

But then, most normal people weren't in love with a vampire who had the mindset of a brick wall.

For half a minute she thought about jumping in the pool, clothes and all, simply to cool down. Only the fact she'd have to walk dripping wet through the hotel stopped her.

Yet she was more annoyed at herself than she was at Michael. He'd warned her from the very beginning that he couldn't share his life with her. Warned her that no matter what, he would walk away. It shouldn't come as any surprise that he was fighting his feelings, fighting her, every step of the way.

She scrubbed a hand through her hair. She didn't know if she had the strength for the battle that lay ahead. But what other choice did she have? She couldn't just walk away, as much as he wished her to. She'd sworn not so long ago to stop running, to start fighting for what she wanted—and what she wanted was to be a part of Michael's life, now and forever. Sighing softly, she stared into the darkness.

In the distant ink of the night, lights moved. Pearls of orange, red and gold danced and swayed, as if in rhythm to some unheard beat.

A warning tingled across her skin. They weren't lights. Weren't flame, either. Curiosity piqued, she walked around the pool and down the rough stone steps leading to the tennis courts.

She continued on, her footsteps sure despite the darkness. Oddly enough, she could see quite clearly. Everything seemed bright, like frost shining on grass in the first rays of sunlight.

Her night vision had always been good, but never like this. What in the hell was happening to her? First Ginger, now this. She hesitated, glancing over her shoulder. Perhaps she should go back to the room and talk to Michael. But then, would he really help her? Or would he tell her only what he thought she needed to know?

She bit her lip. Ahead, the pearls of light continued their dance, swaying back and forth like autumn leaves tossed in the wind. She had to see what they were.

Manicured lawn gave way to meadow grass. Trees loomed—rich scented cottonwoods and ghostly aspens—casting threatening shadows through the ice-bright darkness.

The closer she got to the pearls, the more obvious it became that they had a life of their own. They reminded her of miniature comets, their incandescent tails trailing sparks through the night.

She stopped behind the deep-grooved trunks of some aspens. Half a dozen flames danced in the clearing, all circling an outcropping of rock. There was no wind, no sound, yet the hairs on her arms stood on end, and cold fingers of air crept across her skin. Evil was gathering out there in the darkness beyond the flames.

They danced on regardless, shivering and twirling to some tune of their own. They were too ethereal in form to be some sort of bird or animal, and their movements too controlled for them to be any sort of weather phenomenon.

The sense of evil grew closer, chilling in its intensity. She rubbed her arms and glanced at the flames. They seem oblivious to everything but their dance. Should she somehow warn them? Whatever the flames were, they were doing no harm, simply enjoying the night and their dance. But whatever approached out there in the darkness was coming for them.

But how did you warn flames that danger was headed their way? She bit her lip, then stepped forward. Only to stop as a warning tingled across the back of her neck. Someone was behind her.

Fear surged. She spun, but far too late. Something hit the side of her head, and the darkness claimed her.

Michael opened the patio door and stepped into the crisp night. The silence was intense, almost stifling. To his left and right he could hear steady heartbeats—couples sleeping the night away. Like Nikki should be.

His gaze swept the darkness. Where in the hell had she got to? He made for the steps leading down to the pool, half expecting her to be swimming in the dark, clothes and all. But the clear water lay undisturbed.

He braced his hands on his hips, studying the night uneasily. Nikki could take care of herself, and had for many years before he'd come onto the scene. But there was a feel to this place he just didn't like. There was more than disappearances happening here, of that he was sure.

She could be anywhere. He opened the link and searched the darkness for the flame of her thoughts. After several minutes he found her. If the distance of her thoughts was anything to go by, she was a good quarter mile away from the hotel. Why? Didn't she know it wasn't wise to wander around in the dark out here? Besides all the grizzly and brown bears, there was also the suspected vampire element living here.

He headed quickly down the steps and past the tennis courts, only running once he hit the meadow grass. The night became a blur around him. In the space of a heartbeat, he was with her.

She was sitting on a rock, her hands covering her face. She wasn't crying and her thoughts were free of hurt. But they were also indistinct. It was almost as if he were viewing them through some sort of haze. He frowned.

Then he smelled the blood. Hunger surged, along with anger—at the person who'd touched her, at himself for letting her walk out that door alone.

"Nikki?” He knelt in front of her. Blood smeared her fingers and glistened in her hair. Hunger clenched his gut. He needed to feed or his demon-half might wrest control again. “Are you all right?"

"Yes.” She sighed and pulled her hands away from her face. A cut on her forehead disappeared into her hairline. Blood smeared the left side of her face. He gently probed the wound. She winced, but remained silent. Thankfully, the cut wasn't deep. She'd probably have one hell of a bruise in the morning, though.

"What happened?” he asked. He could smell her blood on his hand and clenched his fingers against the sudden urge to taste it.

"Something attacked me."

Why would someone attack her out here in the middle of nowhere? It didn't make any sense. “What were you doing?"

She shrugged. “Nothing much."

Her gaze flickered away from his, studying the night behind him. Why was she lying? “Did you sense something out here?"

She frowned. “I was standing near that grove of aspens when I sensed evil approaching. Not exactly vampire-type evil but something else—something more sinister. Then someone hit me, and I blacked out."

Which didn't tell him why she was out here in the first place. “And you didn't feel or hear the approach of the person who attacked you?"

"No."

The vagueness behind her words and her thoughts worried him. Maybe the bump on the head had given her a concussion. He'd better call the resort's doctor when they got back to their room.

"Are you up to walking back to the hotel?"

"I'm fine."

No reaction to his question, no flash of annoyance in her thoughts. Worry bit through him. “Can you stand?"

"Yes."

He touched her arm, and she rose. There was no life in her eyes, no rainbow splash of color through the link. It was almost as if she was on automatic pilot. What in the hell had happened out here?

She began walking—away from the hotel, not towards it. He cursed and picked her up. She didn't struggle, didn't react in any way. The night blurred as he raced back to the hotel room.

He placed her on the bed, then washed the blood from his hands before wetting a cloth. He sat beside her and carefully cleaned her face.

"I'm okay. Stop worrying."

She still sounded out of it. “I'm calling a doctor just to be sure."

"No."

She touched his arm, her fingers pressing heat into his skin. Too much heat, in fact. He jerked his arm away from her touch. His flesh was red and beginning to blister. The sliver of worry became a knife.

"Really, I'll be fine,” she continued softly. “I just need to sleep a while."

He had a feeling that whatever was wrong with her wasn't going to be cured by a conventional doctor. Something had happened out there in the field, something beyond the norm.

Besides, if it were just a concussion, she should be okay. She was a thrall. She shared his life force and could recover from just about any wound, given time.

"Please,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

He frowned, but the plea in her voice was one he could not ignore. He rose from the bed. She sighed and snuggled down into the thick comforter. Almost instantly, she was asleep. He pulled up a chair and rested his feet on the end of the bed. For the next three hours, he watched her. She barely stirred, but her dreams were filled with flame and sorrow. Worry continued to eat at him.

Dawn was spreading golden fingers across the cover of night when he finally rose. His need for blood was an ache that thrummed through his body. He had to hunt, and he had to do so before the day dawned fully or the other guests woke. He doubted if his control would last another twelve hours. It had taken several years to fully control his demon the first time. He couldn't expect miracles in a mere six months.

He bent and brushed a kiss across Nikki's forehead. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, a siren's song that called to the darkness in him. His canines extended, anxious to taste the sweet offering of life. Cursing, he swung away and walked quickly from the room.

When he came back an hour later, his thirst finally slaked, Nikki was gone.

And the link was dead.