She took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. There was nothing she could do now about Monica, nothing anyone could do, other than mourn a life lost so young.
"I've heard of things like this happening." MacEwan's voice was harsh, full of the pain he would never show. "Never thought I'd see it, though."
She rose and walked over to where he stood. The priest began to murmur over the burned soil and a few scraps of blanket, all that remained of Monica's pyre.
"How in hell am I going to explain it downtown?"
She glanced at him, wondering if he expected an answer. His face showed no sign of emotion, yet she knew the appearance was a lie. MacEwan—the tough, no-nonsense cop—hated losing a kid, no matter how bad that kid had gone. Despite all his years on the streets, he still believed they could be saved, given half a chance.
"You can't." She shoved her hands into her pockets to ward off the chill of the freshening wind. "No one would believe you if you tried."
He lit a cigarette and sucked on it almost greedily. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?" he said, after a moment.
She didn't reply, not trusting him for an instant. Fair cop or not, he was just as likely to march her downtown and interrogate her all night if she admitted too much. Yet her silence was answer enough.
"So," he continued, exhaling a long plume of smoke. "What was she?"
She gave him another uncertain look. How much had he guessed? "What do you mean?"
He gave an exasperated snort. "No games, or I might be inclined to get nasty. Normal people do not explode into flame when the sun touches them. Certainly it's not a problem Monica Trevgard has suffered before."
And wouldn't again, Nikki thought with a shiver. She watched a wisp of blanket turn in the breeze. The intensity of the fire had left the soil under Monica's body a charred mess. She doubted if anything would ever grow there again.
"She was a vampire." It was time MacEwan knew the truth, whether or not he chose to believe it. "They can't stand the sun."
He made no comment. She'd always found MacEwan hard to read and had no idea if he believed her or not.
"And this madman we still have on the loose?"
"Monica's lover. Another vampire."
"I see."
Did he? There was little emotion to be seen on his face, but his eyes were thoughtful.
"And do you intend going after this madman?"
She nodded, half expecting him to warn her off the case. As usual, MacEwan did the unexpected.
"Keep me informed of all developments, then." He dropped the half-finished cigarette on the ground, crushing it under his boot heel. Then he gave her a wintry smile. "I am not as blind as you might think. I've seen things—" He hesitated and shrugged. "Lets just say I'm not unwilling to believe there are some things on this earth that defy explanation. Just be careful. I can do without the extra paperwork."
He gave her a brief nod and walked away. She turned her gaze to the priest, watching him sprinkle water over the soil.
The back of her neck tingled in warning, and she turned. Jake walked across the road and entered the church through the main gate. Michael wasn't with him, but he was near. His anger washed over her, almost smothering in its intensity.
"Heard over the police radio they'd found Monica." Jake stopped and regarded the priest's actions with interest. "This all that's left?"
She nodded. "She went up like a torch."
"One down, one to go." There was little remorse in his voice. Taking her elbow, he pulled her away from the church. "But just what in hell did you think you were doing? You could have gotten yourself killed!"
She wrenched her arm out of his grip and stopped to glare at him. "What in hell did you think you were doing, leaving without me this morning?" If they'd been here with her, Monica might still be alive. And maybe, just maybe, she'd be less worried about Jasper being able to control her.
"We did what we thought best to keep you safe." He shrugged. "I guess it was a mistake."
"I thought we were a team, Jake."
"We are, Nik. But sometimes you scare me. It's almost as if… as if you have no sense of your own well being. You just keep pushing yourself." He looked at her grimly. "Sometimes I think you have a death wish."
She snorted softly. And yet there'd been times in the past when she certainly hadn't cared whether she lived or died. Maybe that was why she had been such an easy target for Tommy. "Even if I did, what business is it of yours?"
"Damn it, do I have to spell it out? You're like a damned daughter to me. I don't want to see you hurt!"
She was an idiot, no doubt about it. She touched his arm gently. "I'm sorry."
He sighed and shook his head. "You've been on your own too long, kiddo. It's about time you let someone in."
He was talking about Michael, not himself. "Father figure or not, does the phrase 'mind your own business' mean anything to you?"
"It's one I have great trouble with." He held a hand out. "Give me your keys. I want you to go talk to Michael. Now, Nikki," he added when she hesitated.
She swore softly but knew better than to argue when he used that tone of voice. She dug the keys out of her pocket. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you've been drinking."
"One or two. I'm safe to drive."
"My car's parked across the road. I'll see you back at the office."
He nodded. "Trust him, Nik. Let him in."
She scowled and turned away. She had no intention of letting anyone in, especially Michael. It was too damn dangerous. He was too damn dangerous.
Jake's Mercedes was parked in the shadows of an old elm. The darkly-tinted windows prevented any view inside, and yet she could feel Michael's anger as if it were her own.
She opened the driver's side door and climbed in. Michael watched her silently, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. He made no comment as she started the engine and drove off.
Though she kept her eyes on the road, she couldn't help being aware of every little move he made. Now that she was here, she feared talking to him. But just what did she fear? Him? Or herself?
"Why?" he asked softly, after several minutes.
It was a question that could have meant anything. She chose to answer the most obvious. "Monica had to be stopped. You know that."
"Yes. But not before she'd led us to Jasper."
Nikki bit her lip. So that was why Jasper had wanted her dead. "You never told me that, Michael. You never trusted me enough, did you?"
He made a sound suspiciously like a deep-throated growl. "No other observations, while you're at it?
No other accusations?" His voice was almost mocking, hinting at the anger she couldn't see but could sense.
"There was this morning, when I woke alone." But she'd killed someone since then. Her fingers tightened against the wheel, but she fought the rising fear, not wanting him to sense it. "I've had time to think."
"I just bet you have."
She shot him a quick look, unsure how to take his remark. His face was as remote as ever.
"So what did you come up with?" He shifted slightly in his seat, facing her.
She didn't trust his tone. It was too polite. Too controlled. "One question."
"And that is?"
A quick glance at his face told her little, yet she caught a wisp of uncertainty in his thoughts. And wariness. She unclenched her fingers against the wheel and bit her lip in indecision. She didn't want to voice her doubts, didn't want to hear his answer. And the demons whispering madness in her mind could never force her to do this. She just had to know.
"I want to know what last night meant."
His gaze, though hidden by dark glasses, burned into her soul. "What do you think it was about?"
She couldn't look at him. "Was it only a means to ensure I slept through the night? When our minds merged, did you make me sleep?"