Nikki flopped on the bed and closed her eyes. Images ran past her eyelids—visions of fear intermixed with pleasure. Elizabeth had sucked Matthew's mind dry even as she made love to him. And it had all happened in that office, with Cordell watching avidly.

Sick. They were all sick. She swallowed heavily. They might be sick, but they were also very dangerous. Michael had locked all the doors to their room, but she couldn't escape the notion that if Cordell wanted to get in here, he could do so without using the doors. Easily.

From the bathroom came the sound of running water. Michael preparing the hot tub for a bath she didn't want. She didn't care about the need to get warm. She just wanted Michael to take her in his arms and hold her. She had a very strong suspicion time was running out for them.

She knew, too, that he intended to ask her to go home. But he had a snowball's chance in hell of making that happen. He was going to need her help to survive the battle that loomed, and she had no intention of going anywhere.

"You're not getting undressed."

She opened her eyes. He leaned against the bathroom door frame, dark hair tousled and a warm light in his eyes. “I don't have the energy."

"If you don't get up and undressed, I'll throw you in, clothes and all."

"If I go in, you're going in, buddy."

His sudden grin was almost boyish, and he looked so damn sexy she just wanted to grab him and kiss him and make love to him. How could he treat her with such warmth and tenderness and expect to keep her at arm's length?

She couldn't. Wouldn't. Not this time.

"Up, woman. You need to get clean, and you need to get warm. I will not take no for an answer."

She smiled slightly. Neither would she. She kicked off her shoes then stopped. “Sorry. Too much effort involved."

"You're going to make me pick you up, aren't you?"

"Uh huh.” She closed her eyes and waited.

His hands slipped under her, trailing heat through her body. He lifted her, holding her close, his grip gentle and his body warm against hers.

"Now, this I can handle.” Grinning, she wrapped her arms around his neck and lightly kissed his chin. “I'll warm up in no time if you just keep your arms around me like this."

"But it won't wash the dirt from your skin,” he said dryly as he carried her into the bathroom and stopped beside the hot tub. “And I may have a vampire's strength, but even my arms would protest after the first hour or so of holding you."

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me a dead weight?"

He glanced down at her, dark eyes suddenly intense. “Never that,” he said softly. Then the boyish grin hit her again, warming her senses to overload. “In you go."

"Don't,” she yelped, only to have the words snatched away as she went under the water.

She came up spluttering. The bubbling water was frothy and hot. The mild perfume, a mix of jasmine and rose, caught her nose and made her sneeze. Foam flew, covering her face and hair. Michael watched, a silly grin on his face.

"Think it's funny, do you?” she muttered, and hit him with kinetic energy.

A second later, he was spluttering in the hot tub beside her. “Told you,” she continued, voice all innocence. “I go in, you go in."

"Witch.” He grabbed her shirt and tugged her toward him. “Whatever am I going to do with you?"

She kissed his wet lips. “Washing me would be a good start."

He raised an eyebrow. “Too weak, are we?"

"No.” She smiled sweetly. “I just want your hands on me."

"Well,” he said, sounding as put out as all hell—an image somewhat destroyed by the amused anticipation in his eyes, “for the sake of sleeping in clean sheets, I guess I shall have to help."

He undid her shirt and slid it from her shoulders, his hands skimming her skin and caressing heat through her body. Her jeans and undergarments quickly followed and were tossed wetly on the tiles beside her shirt.

"Hair first.” He grabbed the shampoo, then tucked her between his legs and began washing her hair. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed.

"Rinse time.” He reached back, grabbing the flexible hand shower, stretching it to capacity as he turned on the taps. He rinsed her hair clean, then turned off the water and grabbed the conditioner.

He massaged it through her scalp, sending ripples of pleasure reverberating down to her toes.

"You're awfully good at this,” she murmured. “Don't tell me—you were a hairdresser at one time, too."

"Three hundred years is a long time to stay in one job, you know. And people tend to get a little suspicious when you show no sign of aging."

"A problem,” she agreed. She leaned against his chest, listening to the thunder of his heart.

"I can't massage the back of your head like that."

She smiled. “I don't really care. I'm comfortable."

"Oh really?” He cupped his hands around her breasts, then gently tugged at her nipples, teasing them to full bloom. A shudder ran through her, and deep inside the ache began. “How comfortable is that?"

"Probably as comfortable as you are in those wet jeans.” She shifted position and closed her eyes. Energy shimmered, and his clothes joined hers on the floor. She moved back between his legs.

Michael grabbed the bar of soap and began washing her arms and chest. He took his time, working his way down her stomach, every now and again reaching back up to cup her breasts and tease her nipples. Eventually, he slipped his hand between her legs, stroking her gently at first, then faster when the tremors began. Her hips surged, thrusting against his hand for several seconds before she went lax and still against him. But ripples of pleasure ran heat through the link, and her sigh was a sound that reverberated though his soul.

"I hope you didn't treat all your customers this well,” she murmured.

"Baths weren't really big enough to share with any comfort way back then,” he said, reaching for the soap again. “And they were generally only taken on a weekly basis anyway."

She sighed. “This is so much more civilized."

Amusement mixed with love ran through the link, shimmering around him, through him. He knew he should leave the spa, knew that he was risking his resolve to keep her out of his life—but right then, he didn't care. He needed her—emotionally as much as physically—and just this once, he was giving in to that need.

He began washing her again. The last time they'd made love it had been too quick, too rushed—too full of uncertainty and desperation. This time, while they still had time left to them, he would pleasure her more fully.

"Turn around and face me,” he said, dropping the soap.

She did. He took her left foot in his hands, gently massaging her toes. Gradually, he worked his way up her leg, watching her amber eyes dilate with anticipation. When he touched her again, she sucked in her breath, squirming against his hand. He slid his fingers inside her, caressing her, feeling her heat, bringing her close to the brink again before pulling away.

Her need filled his mind, his body, and almost shot his control to hell. He slammed the link closed, not ready yet for this to end.

"Tease,” she muttered, her breathing hot and hard.

He smiled and made his way down her right leg, then raised her foot and gently sucked on each of her toes. Her moan of pleasure ran like fire across his senses. He lowered her foot and tugged her closer. She ran a hand down his chest and stomach, and every inch of him trembled in response. He stopped her, raising her fingers to his lips and kissing them. “This night is for you and about you,” he said softly. “Just let me love you as you deserve to be loved."

Tears glimmered in her eyes. She blinked them away, but her smile remained tremulous. “I only want to give you the same."

"I take pleasure in your pleasure. I could stay here forever and just watch you, Nikki. Let me do this."

She sighed. “I'm enjoying this way too much to say no right now."

"Good."

He began his gentle exploration again. Ran his hands down the full length of her lean body, caressed her small breasts, sucking her nipples until she was panting with need, then claimed her mouth, greedy for the taste of her.

Their minds entwined, wildfire ready to explode.

He cupped her again, slid his fingers inside her, bringing her to her climax hot and fast, until the shudders racked her body and left her limp in the water.

"Again,” he said, pulling her closer. “This time with me."

"I can't,” she moaned. “It's impossible."

"It's not.” Nothing was impossible between them. He savaged her mouth, drowning in the heat and urgency of her kiss. Got lost in the wonder of her body, until the ache in his was a fire that burned through the link, wrapping them in heat and passion and love. I could make love to this woman every day for eternity and never tire of her. And he knew with certainty that that's exactly what he had to do. Somehow, he had to find a way to hold her away from the danger of his work and yet keep her a part of his life. He couldn't walk away. Didn't want to walk away. He'd been a fool to even think he could.

He caught her hair, pulling her head back, kissing the long line of her neck, working his way back up to her mouth. Her breath was hot and quick against his lips. “Say it, Nikki."

"I love you.” She moaned and wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “Oh God, I love you."

He plunged himself inside her, then thrust her back against the spa, plunging deep again. “Say it again."

"I love you, I love you.” Her softness encased him, muscles contracting against him. He had to grit his teeth to keep from exploding.

"Again,” he demanded, thrusting hard, wanting, needing, every ounce from her.

Her litany ran over him, through him, exploding glorious heat through their minds. “And I,” he vowed, “will love you for eternity and never leave you."

Her climax sent him spiralling beyond control and into bliss.

"I,” she said, sometime later, “have no energy to move. I think I'll sleep right here in these bubbles."

"Your skin will wrinkle like a prune. Not a good look, let me assure you.” He climbed out of the spa and quickly dried himself. “Up, woman. Bed is where you belong right now."

"My legs have no bones."

He grinned. “Good loving can do that to you."

"That wasn't good. That was amazing. I've never...” she hesitated and licked her lips. For an instant, she looked like a teenager just discovering the wonders of sex. “Let's just say that it has never been that good for me."

"Then it was a first for us both.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, then leaned over the side of the hot tub and grabbed her lax arm, tugging her toward the edge.

She raised her eyebrows and made no move to get out. “I find that hard to believe. In three hundred and eighty years you must have had some good sex."

He forced a note of severity into his voice. “Three hundred and sixty, not three hundred and eighty, thank you very much."

Her grin widened. “What's twenty years when you're that old? And you didn't answer my question."

"I have had good sex. But I've never had sex that could so completely blow my mind as well as my body. Amazing, as you said."

She studied him for a second, her eyes amber slits of contentment. “What about Elizabeth?"

If she at all worried that Elizabeth might yet usurp her position in his heart, then it didn't show—in her voice or her thoughts. Still, he owed her the truth.

He sat down on the edge of the spa and tucked the wet strands of her hair behind her ear. “I gave up life to follow Elizabeth. She was my world—all I wanted at the time, and all I thought I would ever want.” Nikki frowned and looked away. He caught her chin, gently forcing her to look at him again. “But she never was, and could never be, what you are to me. You complete me, Nikki. She never could."

Her smile filled his heart and mind and stirred to life the embers of passion. “I really do love you."

He leaned forward, kissing her sweet lips. “Good. Now get your ass out of that water."

She sighed and struggled upright. He helped her out, then towelled her dry. Ignoring the rising desire to touch her more fully, he guided her into the bedroom and tucked her into bed.

"Wouldn't like to join me?” she murmured, patting the sheets next to her.

He would have liked nothing more, but there were things he had to do first. Like contact Seline. “I thought you had no bones? I can't make love to a boneless woman."

Her gaze flicked down his body and she grinned. “Parts of your body are refuting that statement."

"Parts of my body have a will of their own. Sleep Nikki. I have to contact Seline and see if she has found any information on Cordell."

"Which reminds me—I thought you said vampires could heal just about any wound inflicted on them?"

He frowned slightly. “We can. Why?"

"Cordell's in a wheelchair. I saw it when I was in Matthew's memories."

"That doesn't make much sense.” Even if Cordell had broken his back at some stage, his vampire healing capacity should have fixed the wound within weeks. Unless ... it must have happened before he became a vampire. As you were in life, you are in unlife. If Cordell was crippled in some way before he became a vampire, he would have remained that way.

She shrugged. “I'm just reporting what I saw. Cordell was using Matthew to set up a series of electronic cash transactions."

"He's getting ready to pull out."

"It sounds like it. Though I can't understand why he'd bother transferring all this money to a charity organization in the first place if all he wanted to do was steal it himself. Why not just transfer it straight into is own accounts?"

He shrugged. “Seline said the charity looked legit. Maybe he needed to keep it that way until he'd hit all his targets and was ready to flee.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. “You sleep. I have work to do."

"Don't be long,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

She was asleep by the time he'd settled on the day bed. Smiling, he relaxed his mind and opened the lines of communication. Contact was instant. Seline had obviously been waiting for him.

Found lots of information on your Randolf Cordell, she said. He's not a very pleasant type.

If he was, we probably wouldn't be hunting him, would we?

Well, no, I guess not. Her smile ran down the line. His parents died when he was eight. Cordell was shuffled between in-laws, none of whom really wanted him. The streets became his home. By the time he was thirteen he'd been up before the courts on several counts of assaults and robbery. When he was seventeen, he got involved in a car stealing racket but during one theft was involved in an accident, and the injury left him a paraplegic. He sued the driver for damages but lost the case. He then attempted to kill the driver, but was caught and charged, and spent the next ten years behind bars. Apparently, he was not a model prisoner.

A charmer, all right. It was odd how differently people coped with their situations. Nikki had also made the streets her home after her parents had died. Yet she'd managed to escape with both her integrity and her humanity relatively intact. Let me guess. The man who hit him was one of his first kidnap victims.

Clever boy. William Parnell was actually one of the four major investors in a high-flying brokerage company. The other three men provided alibis for Parnell in the court case.

Victims two, three and four?

Yes. I would guess that by the time Cordell got around to penalizing the fourth man, Robert Carson, he'd gained quite a taste for kidnapping and easy money.

He frowned. Cordell doesn't seem the type to be happy with siphoning money from their accounts. Especially as a means of revenge.

These four are the types who think money is all-conquering. Cordell never had a hope in the court case, given his record and the fact the car he was driving was stolen, but he never saw it that way. What he saw was big fancy lawyers and lots of cash burying the truth. I'm guessing he wanted that power, and that he wanted to take it away from them.

Do we know when he was turned?

Not exactly. He disappeared for several years after his ten-year stint in jail. The next mention I found was in a journal of an old witch—you remember a woman called Ladonna doing the fairground circuit some ten years back?

Vaguely. He wasn't into fairground mysticism—it was one of the few things he hadn't done through the years. She was a shyster, wasn't she?

No, she was very much the real thing, even though her act stunk to high heaven.

He smiled. The sort of thing that gives witches a bad name, huh?

Exactly. She sniffed. Anyway, Cordell apparently joined her act, and they became quite a team. In her journal, Ladonna states that she had apprenticed Cordell and intended teaching him the art.

Seline's tone told him she wasn't impressed. I gather Ladonna followed the dark path?

Yes. I warned her many years ago it would lead to her death, but power was all she could see, all she was interested in. Fool.

I think you've lost me. Why would teaching Cordell have cost Ladonna her life? Beside the fact that Cordell is a murderous creep, that is.

The only way those apprenticed in the dark ways can gain complete mastery over the dark powers is by killing their master and absorbing their talents. Ladonna had failed to do this, which was why she was such an abysmal practitioner and no real threat to us. I haven't found a record of her death, but I have no doubt Cordell did kill her if he is now using the full powers of dark magic.

Could he use that magic to restore his ability to walk? He couldn't imagine women like Ginger and Rachel falling for a grimy little cripple like Cordell—not unless he was using some sort of glamour to hide the truth.

Maybe, if it was for short periods of time. That sort of magic sucks a lot of strength from the user, though.

Cordell is skin and bone.

Then he has used the magic often. It will make him weaker, but perversely, won't make him an easier target. Especially if he has found a way to siphon the energy of the flame imps.

Well, that solved the mystery of the imps’ role in all of this. What about the charity these funds are going into? Have you done a background check yet? Cordell didn't seem the over generous type. The charity had to be a cover.

Yes. Cordell is listed as one of the directors and is being paid a huge salary. Three other directors are listed, but I cannot find more than postal addresses for them.

Surprise, surprise. Then they are probably no more than names on paper.

More than likely. But the charity is legit, insofar as it has all the proper registrations and has spent considerable monies providing hostels and shelters for street kids. On the other hand, considering the amounts donated, it is but a sneeze.

Why would he be kidnapping these men and risking possible exposure, if all he wished to do was siphon their millions? It doesn't make sense.

I would suspect that Cordell has the sort of personality that enjoys inflicting pain. He probably doesn't have to kidnap the men to make his scheme work, but he prefers to watch them suffer.

Then why use the imps?

She sniffed. If he is a practitioner of the black arts, and as thin as you say, he probably needs their energy now to work his magic.

Then that's why he's pulling out. According to Nikki, he has all but killed the imps off in this area. Though I still don't understand why he is forcing them into vampires like Rachel and Ginger. If they are his fledglings, they would do as he ordered, anyway.

But they would not have enough control of their bloodlust to seduce and coax these men into Cordell's arms. The imps probably give them that strength

Up to a point, anyway. Rachel's bloodlust had overcome the control of the imp inside her. Or had that simply happened because the bonding was still new? Has Doyle arrived with our parcel yet?

Yes, and what a parcel she is. I think your Nikki is being optimistic in thinking she can be saved, but we'll see.

Can you tell anything about the methods Cordell is using to bind the imp?

It will be a spell of binding, for certain. What type of spell I can't say, but you will need protection against it. I've already couriered two charms for you and Nikki. They should actually be there by now. Go down and check with the desk the minute we finish.

Nikki won't need it. She's heading home in the morning.

Seline's amusement filled the line. If you say so. Give her the charm as a going away present, then. And make sure you wear yours.

I will. Controlling the darkness inside him was hard enough. What he didn't need right now was a battle over control with an imp forced into his body. What did you find out about thralls?

Nothing much, although there was one suggestion it was better not to use those with psychic gifts. It didn't say why. Has she exhibited any other signs of emerging powers?

Her night sight has improved immensely, and the powers she has have definitely strengthened.

You sound worried.

That's because I am. Elizabeth had created several thralls over the years, and never once had she mentioned anything like this happening. But then, maybe she'd never shared her life force with anyone who was psychic. Maybe she knew the risks and had just never mentioned it. He wished fleetingly he could go down and talk to her—but he didn't trust her. Not when it came to Nikki's safety.

I'll keep researching. In the meantime, go down to the desk and see if the parcel has arrived.

I will. Stop nagging.

Her laughter filled his thoughts, and the line went dead. He stretched and rose. The darkness shifted outside the window, shimmering briefly. He frowned. For an instant, a familiar taste ran across his senses, only to be whisked away before he could fully identify it.

He moved past the day bed and opened the door. The night was crisp and clear and touched with the faint scent of orange blossom. Elizabeth's scent.

Had she been watching him? For what reason? Did she merely wait for him to leave so she could attack Nikki?

Probably.

She'd enjoy robbing him of his thrall, especially after the dunking Nikki had given her.

He closed and locked the door. He wasn't about to go anywhere when there was a vampire hell bent on a good bloodletting roaming around outside their room. Seline's charms would have to wait until the morning, when the rise of the hotel's other guests forced Elizabeth away.