Why home?She asked in confusion.
Because she must… As she must kill soon.
A chill ran through her soul. It was no secret that Monica hated her father. Trevgard was in danger.
"Still with me, Nik?"
Jake's voice made her start. She clenched her fingers against the phone. "Yes. And we have big problems."
"Nothing compared to the coroner's, I'd say."
"Wrong." She rubbed her eyes again, hoping the niggling ache behind her left eye didn't mean yesterday's headache was returning. "Where are you at the moment?"
"Corner of Jackson and Pacific."
"Then you'd better swing around to my place and pick me up. We have to get to Trevgard's. I'll explain why when you get here."
Nikki, no!
She ignored Michael and hung up the phone. She finished her coffee in several gulps that burned her throat, then walked back into the bedroom to get dressed.
Damn it, woman, wait for me. You have no idea…
It's my responsibility, she reminded him, quickly strapping her spare set of knives onto her wrists.
Don't go alone. Wait for me.
No.
She collected her coat off the chair, then grabbed her keys and a small flashlight. At the front door, she hesitated, then turned and moved back into the bedroom. Rummaging quickly through her jewelry box, she found the small silver chain and cross Tommy had given her so long ago. Bitter memories rose, but she shoved them away and clipped the chain around her neck. She had no idea if a cross would offer any protection against vampires, but, like the knife earlier, she felt safer with its coldness pressed against her skin.
Jake's sleek silver Mercedes pulled up as she stepped outside.
"What in hell is going on?" he growled once she'd settled into the front seat. "Why is it so important for us to get to Trevgard's?"
She grimaced. How did you sanely approach the subject of vampires? "I left out a few details about Monica when we talked last night."
"Like what?" The look he cast her simmered with annoyance.
She hesitated, then shrugged. Perhaps a direct approach was best. "Did the police happen to mention the manner of Monica's death when they interviewed Trevgard?"
"No."
"It was blood loss."
He gave her a quick, surprised look. "The creep cut her up?"
"No. Her body was hardly marked, in fact."
"Nikki—" There was no avoiding the subject. "She only had two marks on her body. A small cut on her wrist that was days old and almost healed."
"And?" he prompted, when she hesitated.
"Two small puncture marks on her neck." She glanced across and met his brief, puzzled look. She must have given Michael the same sort of look.
"Am I supposed to read something significant into that statement?"
"Think, Jake. Blood loss… Puncture marks?"
"Jeez…"
The car swerved violently as he jerked around in surprise. Swearing under his breath, Jake battled to get the vehicle under control then pulled over to the side of the road.
"Now," he said, applying the hand brake before twisting around to face her. "Are you trying to tell me Monica was killed by a vampire?"
"Yes."
"A vampire ?" He stared at her. "You really believe Monica was killed by a vampire?"
"Yes. I saw the body, Jake. Apart from the puncture marks, the only other wound was days old and almost healed. Yet there was no blood, in or out of the body."
He snorted. "Your psychic senses are now telling you how much blood someone has in their body? Give me a break, Nik."
She smiled grimly. "If you don't believe me, why not call your friend at the morgue?"
He reached for the phone. She stared out the window, watching the traffic roll past. They really had to move if they wanted to save Trevgard from his daughter's anger.
"They never had a chance to perform an autopsy," Jake said, as he hung up the phone.
"I'm afraid that's not the end of it."
"There's more?"
She nodded. "The walking dead."
"As in, zombies?"
Though his voice was flat, she could see the disbelief in his eyes. "As in. I think there are at least two running around."
"Have you been smoking funny weed or something?"
"You know I haven't smoked in years, Jake. Nor have I gone insane."
He shook his head. "Psychic abilities I can believe in. Maybe even ghosts and extraterrestrials. But vampires? Zombies? No way, Nik."
How could she possibly convince him? He had to be ready for what they might face at Trevgard's tonight. And yet, if she hadn't seen Monica's lifeless body last night, she'd probably have a hard time believing it herself.
"You've trusted my intuition before, Jake. Please, just trust me one more time."
He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily. "But Dracula's only a piece of fiction. And zombies… well, I know some Polynesian Islanders will swear to their existence, but this is Lyndhurst."
"So how do you explain the lack of blood in Monica's body?"
"There's no evidence to back up your story, Nik. And how in hell would I know anyway? But it wasn't a vampire. It just wasn't."
"There's no other reasonable explanation."
"A vampire is not what I'd term reasonable. Hell, for all we know, we've got some nut loose who enjoys draining blood from his victims."
Which was an apt enough description of Monica's lover. "So how do you explain Monica walking out of the morgue tonight?"
"I can't." His expression was determined as it met hers. "But it wasn't caused by vampirism."
Nothing she could say would convince him otherwise. He had to see it for himself. "Okay, but we still have to get to Trevgard's."
"Why?"
"She hates her father, Jake. Trevgard was probably the only person in town who didn't know it. I've got a real bad feeling that it's payback time tonight."
"Trevgard's got guards all over the place," Jake muttered, but threw the car into gear and sped off.
She sighed in relief. He might not believe her, but at least he still trusted her instincts. She just had to hope they didn't arrive too late.
"I don't suppose you brought your gun?" Jake said, after a moment.
She shook her head. "You know I won't use it. It's locked up at home. Besides, bullets don't kill vampires."
"Might if you blow their freaking' heads off," he said, voice grim. "So, where's the boyfriend tonight?"
"Michael's not my boyfriend." And never likely to be. He held far too many secrets, was too much of a loner. And far, far too much like Tommy.
"If chemistry's anything to go by, he will be. Where is he?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
He wasn't far, though. Somewhere, somehow, he was tracking her, furious because she'd refused to wait.
"Odd that he only turns up at night." Jake gave her a sardonic look. "He's not a vampire, too, by any chance?"
"Not likely." Yet the darkness in his soul haunted her, and she couldn't help shivering.
It took them ten minutes to get to Trevgard's. Jake turned into the driveway then stopped. Nikki bit her lip and studied the dark gates before them.
"No lights," Jake commented, peering through the windshield.
"No guard." She stared at the gatehouse, as dark as the night itself. "I've got a very bad feeling about this."
She wished Jake would just turn around and drive away, before it was too late. But it was her fault Monica was loose. If she had allowed Michael his way last night… the thought stalled. No, she'd had no option last night, just as she had none now. Jake couldn't go in alone, and the police had no idea what they were up against. Even if she told them, they'd never believe her.