Chapter Seven

The aircraft engines' droning was the only sound that broke the silence. Night filled the cabin, and around him, people slept and dreamed.

Michael stretched out his legs, grateful that Seline had booked first-class seats. He wasn't sure he could have handled anything else right now—he hated flying at the best of times, especially in economy, with its cramped seats and lack of elbow room. Conditions that would have been made all the more unbearable with Nikki wedged beside him.

He'd known his blood lust might pose a threat to her, especially since she'd been the first human he'd tasted in well over three hundred years. Yet the urge to feed off her had been surprisingly easy to control.

What he hadn't expected was the fierce and utter joy of simply seeing her again. The need to touch her, kiss her, had been so strong that he'd walked across the office to her desk before he'd managed to restrain himself.

But like his lust for blood, his desire for her was something he could not afford. He rubbed a hand across his eyes, then looked at her. She was asleep, curled up in the seat next to him, her dark chestnut hair falling across her delicate features like a veil. She smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, of life and love and everything he wanted and couldn't have.

He reached out, gently tucking behind her ear the silken wisps of hair. She stirred at his touch, murmuring something he didn't catch. He trailed his fingers down to her mouth, remembering the last time they'd kissed, and the warmth of her lips against his. Remembered their mind's fiery dance that had made them one in a way the mere joining of their bodies never could.

Memories that were dangerously seductive when she was so close.

He dropped his hand and stared out the window again. The plane was beginning its descent. Lights twinkled starlike in the darkness beyond the window. The resort was sending a limousine to pick them up from the airport—an extravagant service that wasn't really surprising, given the sort of money they were paying.

"Just how expensive is this place?" Nikki said softly.

He glanced at her. Her smoky amber eyes regarded him steadily. Had his touch woken her, or had she been feigning sleep? "I thought you said you couldn't read my thoughts?"

She frowned. "I get a whisper every now and then. Most of the time, it feels like there's interference on the line. All I get is a dead sort of silence."

He had to hope so, given the psychic strength he was expending trying to keep the link closed between them—something that wouldn't have been possible before he'd shared his life force and made them one.

The joining had given him that much control, at least. "Give it time, Nikki."

She raised an eyebrow, her gaze clearly skeptical. "Will time make any real difference?"

It wouldn't, and they both knew it. He could see the understanding, the hurt, deep in the amber depths of her eyes. "Have you got a photo of the child you're looking for?"

She regarded him a minute longer, then shrugged and dug into her purse. "Matthew Kincaid," she said, handing him a photo of a red-haired, gangly-looking youth. "Sixteen years old and has an I.Q. rated in the genius class. Few friends in or out of school, but plenty on the Net, according to his mother."

"And it was one of those friends who abducted him?"

She nodded. "Only the friend was a very old vamp with lots of vamp buddies."

He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why do you think it was a very old vampire he met?"

She frowned slightly. "Just a feeling I got. She felt evil, like Jasper—only different."

"Different how?" And what was it about Lyndhurst that seemed to attract vampires like Jasper—and now this woman?

Her frown deepened, and worry etched deep lines across her forehead. He clenched his hand against the sudden desire to smooth them away.

"I don't know how to explain it," she said softly. "It's just a feeling I get—a taste, if you like." She hesitated, her gaze searching his. "Remember when you were following me through that park, before we actually met? I knew then what you were capable of. I knew you'd come to Lyndhurst to kill. But you didn't feel evil, and I never really feared you. Not like Jasper—or this woman."

The fear she refused to show now ran wild in her thoughts. He touched her hand, gently entwining his fingers with hers. The warmth of her skin cut through him, as sharp as any knife. "Can you describe her?"

She looked down, a small smile touching her lips. "No. She kept to the shadows. I only saw her assistants clearly."

"How many did she have?"

"Four or five. Which was odd, really, considering their quarry was only a gawky teenager."

He frowned. If the vampire were as old as Nikki seemed to think, she certainly wouldn't have any need for one assistant, let alone five. "Did she say anything?"

Nikki's shoulders tensed, and her heart rate jumped several notches. Hunger stirred to sluggish life deep in his gut. He frowned and untwined his fingers from hers. Too much too soon, he thought, and knew he was going to have to tread carefully around her. The hunger for her blood might be under control, but it hadn't yet abated.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, a distancing that was as much mental as it was physical. Yet in her eyes he saw understanding. She knew what was happening to him.

"Actually, for a vampire she was a damn chatterbox. I don't think she intends to kill Matthew right away.

She said they have other plans for him."

"I guess she didn't say what?"

"No vampire is that chatty." Her voice held a slight edge of sarcasm. "Not the ones I've met, anyway."

He smiled slightly. "Did she say anything else?"

She hesitated. "Yeah. She said I had the taste of a vampire on me, and that she didn't want to upset my master." Her expression was curious and more than a touch afraid. "What did she mean by that?"

"It means she could sense my life force in you." And meant this woman was old—older than he, even.

Only the very old vampires knew about thralls—and only they could sense them.

Could this woman be the darkness Seline had sensed at the resort?

"But what did she mean by my master?" She hesitated again, glancing around at the other passengers.

"Don't worry," he said. "They're all asleep." He'd touched their thoughts and made sure of that a few hours ago.

Her quick frown made him wonder if she'd realized what he'd done. She hated any sort of psychic intrusion, even when it was attempted on other people. And her first lover, Tommy, and to some extent

Jasper, had certainly insured that she feared it.

"And why did she say I'm not human? If I'm not, then what the hell am I?"

"You are still human, Nikki, as I am still human."

She snorted. "Oh, that's so very comforting. You have a serious aversion to sunlight and drink blood to survive."

"And you do not."

"No. But there are drawbacks you haven't told me about, aren't there?"

"No," he said, even though there were. Lots of them. Like being an easy target for those vampires old enough to know what she was—and how to use her to get to him and destroy him. If the vampire who'd taken Matthew was also involved in the resort kidnappings, they were both in serious danger.

But he also knew he didn't have a hope in Hades of getting her to turn around and go home. As she'd warned, she didn't give up and she didn't give in. He'd just have to find some way to keep her out of trouble.

"Why can't you just be honest with me, Michael? Even on something as simple as this?"

He looked away from the accusation in her eyes. "I can not change three hundred years of habit in a matter of months."

"Can't, or won't?" she muttered.

"Both." Because honesty was a dangerous weapon when you held as many secrets as he did.

She pulled her gaze from his, but not before he'd seen the glitter of tears. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and silently cursed the capriciousness of fate. Why couldn't it have just left well enough alone? He didn't want to hurt her, but he had no doubt that he would, and more than once—until she accepted they were something that could never be.

And what is she supposed to do in the long years that lie ahead? He shoved the thought aside and reached for the briefcase near his feet. "You should read this," he said, handing her a manila folder.

"What is it?" She accepted the folder without looking at him.

"Background info. How we met, when we were married."

"I see we're on our honeymoon." She snorted softly and glanced up. "That'll be a hard act to pull off when you won't even touch me."

"As you can see," he said, ignoring the tartness in her words, "Seline kept as close to the truth as she could. Less room for mistakes that way."

"Are you rich? This implies you're a multimillionaire." She raised an eyebrow and studied him warily.

Why? What was it about wealth that worried her? "You cannot live for as long as I have without collecting a certain amount of financial independence."

"Which is a roundabout way of saying you're swimming in it." She shook her head, then added in a voice that was little more than a murmur, "I really don't know anything about you, do I?"

And that was the way he intended to keep it. He pointed to the ring taped to the top of the folder. "Your wedding ring."

"Not what I would have chosen," she muttered. She slipped it on her finger, then held out her hand, studying it. The diamond crusted ring looked huge on her. "Ugly. I hope you didn't choose this monstrosity."

"No, that's Seline's doing, and part of the cover." If he ever gave Nikki a ring, it certainly wouldn't be made of diamonds or gold. It would be simple, carved from the stone of his birthplace, Eire. Like the ring he wore on his right hand—the ring his grandfather had made. A ring made from the heart.

She glanced back to the folder. "Oh great," she continued after a few moments. "I not only have bad taste in rings, but I'm a gold-digger as well."

"Nine of the fifteen people who have disappeared from the resort had marriages that could be classified as dubious—huge age discrepancies or vastly different socioeconomic backgrounds."

"So? Old rich guys marry dumb, busty women all the time. If you ask me, it's a fair swap. She gets his money, and he gets a pretty body to play with until he dies." She closed the folder and handed it back.

"Besides, Vance Hutton hardly falls into that category."

"No, he doesn't. But what is even odder is the fact that his wife is the only one who's actually raised a fuss."

Nikki raised her eyebrows. "You mean, fifteen mega-wealthy men have disappeared and no one's noticed? That's not possible."

"You would have thought so. Mind you, all but three have reappeared."

"Unharmed?"

"Apparently. Reports are that they only seem to go out at night, but otherwise, it's life as normal."

"Are they vampires?"

"No."

"Weird."

It was weird all right, and he couldn't help thinking the answers might be in the same league.

The 'seat belts' light pinged on, and a flight attendant announced they were getting ready to land.

Michael clipped his in, then helped Nikki with hers. But in leaning over, their bodies brushed, and her scent ambushed him. For several heartbeats all he could do was stare into the dark amber eyes that had haunted his dreams and wish he was free to touch her, hold her.

She cupped her palm against his cheek. Heat splintered through him, sharpened by longing.

"What lies between us will not go away," she said softly. "You can deny it all you want, push it away and ignore it, but it will still be there. And so will I."

He pulled away from her touch. It was probably the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. "My world is darkness, Nikki. Yours is light. We cannot be."

She raised an eyebrow and didn't reply. He met her gaze steadily, undeterred by her determined expression or the edge of hurt in her eyes. After several seconds, she looked away.

Leaving him feeling like a bastard.

The plane taxied to a stop, and the crew cheerfully ushered them from it. He guided Nikki through the crowd, one hand held lightly against her back as they headed to the baggage area. "The limo driver should be waiting near the carousel."

She nodded. Under the harsh light of the terminal, the dark circles shadowing her eyes looked like bruises. "I have to call the hospital when we get to the resort. I want to find out how Jake is."

"He's tough, Nikki. He'll be okay."

"I hope you're right," she murmured. "Because he's all the family I have left."

And I'm not sure what I'll do without him. The thought skimmed through the link, sharp with pain. "I have never met a human with a will to live as strong as Jake's. He'll be okay." Meaningless words when it wasn't the will but the heart that was apparently the problem.

She smiled slightly. "Thank you for saying that."

He nodded, hoping he was right. He liked Jake. He touched her back again, guiding her to the right, towards the carousel.

Several uniformed men and woman stood close by, each holding up different name cards. Surprisingly, his name wasn't among the cards.

Nikki stopped suddenly, and fear surged like fire through the link.

"What's wrong," he said, glancing around quickly. He couldn't see or feel any threat, but he'd learned to trust her senses when it came to situations slightly out of kilter.

"See that guy dressed in the blue and red uniform with the resort's gold logo on the pocket? The one holding the sign with the name Rodeman on it?"

He looked, and saw what she saw.

The chauffeur was a vampire.

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