A tide of anger seemed to leap into the car and swirl around her. She kept her eyes on the road, hands tense against the steering wheel. She didn't want to face the fury she could feel building.
"You really aren't capable of trust, are you?"
She wanted to scream that she'd trusted him more than she'd trusted any man in her entire life—except, maybe, for Tommy. Only Michael wasn't just a man.
And this wasn't about trust. It was about deception.
Wasn't it?
"I have to know, Michael."
His gaze burned into her. She shivered and tried to ignore the worm of fear in her heart.
"Think about last night, Nikki. Think about what we shared. Look inside your own heart."
No. Never again would she trust what she felt in matters like this. People died when she did. As the lights ahead changed, she slowed the car and risked another quick look. His face was still impassive, giving no indication he'd heard her thoughts. But even if he had, she still needed to know.
"You are a fool, Nikki. A fool who will not listen to her own intuition."
"Intuition has nothing to do with this." Because intuition was telling her to trust him, telling her to grab on tight and never let go, no matter how he fought. But it had told her the same about Tommy, and it had never been more wrong.
"I have to ask, Michael. Surely you can understand that?"
"The only thing I can understand is the fact that I am a fool twice over."
The sudden hint of weariness in his voice frightened her. She glanced at him quickly. What had he meant by that?
"I will not deny there is an element of truth in your fears. I had hoped you might sleep long enough for Jake and me to leave." He took off the sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. "As for what it meant—I warned you before, Nikki. It can never be anything more than just a moment we share."
His words cut through her. While she knew he couldn't stay, she'd hoped it might have been something more than just a physical release to him. To her, at least, last night had been something of a revelation.
She'd never realized that two bodies could become one so completely. That two minds could share a dance so poetic, so full of desire and care.
She blinked and looked away, then shifted the car into gear as the lights changed again, and the traffic flowed on.
"Remember, I was not the initiator last night, nor am I made of stone," he continued softly. "And there's one more question you should ask. Just who was using whom last night?"
Heat crept into her cheeks, and she bit her lip. There was no denying the fact he was right. She had used him, used his warmth, the caress of his thoughts, to keep Jasper's nightmares at bay.
But while she regretted her reasons, she didn't regret making love to him. Those memories she would treasure in the long years ahead.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I was wrong. But so were you in leaving me."
He made no comment, and she drove the final few miles to the office in silence. She parked in front of the building and glanced at her watch as she climbed out of the car. It was after five. She frowned. Why wasn't her car here? Jake had left before her…
Her psychic senses sprang to life, and pain ran like fire across her body.
Only it wasn't her pain. It was Jake's.
Jasper's dark laughter whispered through her brain, a teasing gloat, edged with warning.
If she wanted Jake to live, she would have to take his place.
Chapter Fourteen
Nikki gripped the edge of the car door and closed her eyes. She couldn't go back to Jasper… Yet she couldn't let Jake die in her place.
"Nikki, listen to me." Michael's voice seemed to come from a great distance. "He won't kill Jake just yet. He'll make sure we have enough time to attempt a rescue. Jasper likes his little games. Break the contact Nikki. Break it, now."
She bit her lip and concentrated on pushing Jasper from her mind. He evaded her grasp, as slippery as an eel, his laughter mocking. She gritted her teeth and pushed, hard. Jasper's poison slid away, but the effort left her trembling.
Michael turned her around and pulled her towards him. She leaned her cheek against the warmth of his chest, and wished she could stay in the safe circle of his arms forever. Why couldn't the rest of the world just go to hell and leave her alone? Better yet, why wasn't there a way to simply turn back the clock to the time before Monica and Jasper had walked into her life? Though that would mean not meeting Michael. Perhaps some good had come out of this whole mess, no matter how brief it was meant to be.
After a moment, she sighed and pulled away. "If Jasper's moved in the daylight, he's stronger than you thought."
Michael shrugged, finally removing his dark glasses as he glanced at the sun. "It's nearly five, and the winter sun is weak. Besides, it was probably the zombies who grabbed him."
"Just how much do you know about Jasper?"
He shrugged a second time. "As I've said before, he and I are old foes. I make it my business to know my enemy."
"Do you make it your business to keep your allies in the dark?"
A wisp of annoyance ran through her, though his face was impassive. "I only tell what needs to be known."
She clenched her fists and tried to ignore the desire to yell in frustration. "Well, right now I need to know everything I can about Jasper."
He nodded, though his dark gaze was suddenly distant. "As I said earlier, he's a twin. He and his brother survived the San Francisco fires of 1906, but the rest of their family did not. We're not sure when they both changed, but we do know it occurred shortly after the fires, when they were fifteen." He hesitated, his face grim. "Even so, Jasper was responsible for the murder of at least five people before his rebirth."
She shifted from one foot to the other and tried to ignore the need to move. Finding Jake would take all the caution and cunning she could muster—and every scrap of information about Jasper and his need for revenge. "You mentioned the royal 'we' again."
Michael sighed, though it was a sound filled with annoyance. "I am a member of an organization known as the Damask Circle."
"Are you all vampires?"
"No. But neither are we all what you'd term human."
Human. The bitter emphasis he placed on that word spoke volumes. He'd heard her thoughts, all right.
She bit her lip and glanced away from the accusation of his gaze. "And this circle of yours goes around killing people like Jasper?"
"Yes. So people like you can rest easier at night."
People who fear what cannot easily be explained. People who cannot trust what their hearts know to be true.She closed her heart to his thoughts. This wasn't the time to argue about her refusal to trust. "Is that why you killed Jasper's brother?"
Again Michael hesitated. Pain rose briefly through his soul. She wanted to reach out and tell him she understood. Instead, she clenched her fingers and waited for him to continue.
"No. I killed Jasper's brother because he murdered my brother, Patrick."
Revenge. Everything was based on revenge, and it could end up killing them all. "How often have you and Jasper met in the past?"
Then she frowned. "If you're three-hundred-years-old and Jasper is only one hundred, wouldn't your brother have been well and truly dead before Jasper and his brother were even born?"
The pain in Michael's soul became sharper. "Patrick was a vampire."
And Michael had turned him. Nikki wondered why. "How often have you and Jasper met in the past?"
"Three times."
And each time Jasper had somehow slipped from Michael's noose. But it wouldn't happen again, she thought, staring at him. Deep in the dark depths of his eyes she could see the promise of death. One way or another, Michael was determined to finish it here in Lyndhurst.