Dancing with the Devil

Page 31

 

  "No!” she screamed, raising her hands in front of her face, breaking the lock of his gaze and the force of his will.

  The chains of power yanked tight, and she gasped, struggling to breathe. She threw a lance of energy at him, trying to thrust him backwards, but he barely rocked back on his heels. His laughter whipped around her, cold and mocking. Nikki blinked back bitter tears, and reached for another lance. But the black wings lashed at her, and fire consumed her mind, making it difficult to think, to breathe. If this is what Hell feels like, I definitely do not want to die. . .

  But maybe the choice had never been hers.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Energy spun through the room, and the inferno died abruptly. Nikki waited, half expecting another of Jasper's games. She refused to look up, refused to give him the satisfaction of her fear.

  "Nikki, get up. "

  Michael's soft order seemed more a shout in the heavy silence. She glanced up quickly, elation, relief and fear tumbling through her.

  He leaned against a wall near the doorway, his arms crossed, face impassive. Yet fury and death filled his eyes, and it chilled her soul. It wasn't only Jasper's death she saw in his eyes.

  "Go,” he said softly, still not looking at her. “Get out and do not come back. " She clung to the door frame and pulled her aching body upwards. The room spun, and she gasped softly, biting back the urge to be sick. She took a deep breath and forced herself to move, slowly edging towards Michael and safety.

  Jasper's gaze burned through her soul, but he didn't move. Power whispered around her, a touch so different to the dark flames that had beaten at her only minutes before. Michael was holding Jasper still so she could escape.

  She reached him and hesitated. His dark gaze met hers. For an instant the link flared to life, and their souls met in a dance that warmed her heart. Then regret flickered, and the link died, lost in a blaze of pain that made her eyes water.

  She stared at him. Death rode his shoulders, and she didn't know what to say, what to do, to fight it. He reached out, gently touching her swollen cheek. She closed her eyes, leaning briefly into his touch. Lord, I love him. I don't want to lose him.

  "How very touching,” Jasper commented dryly into the silence. “Be sure that I will take good care of her when you die, Kelly. "

  She ignored the mocking laughter that danced through her mind. “Michael—" He put a finger to her lips. “Leave us, Nikki. Don't come back, no matter what happens. Promise me. " Her eyes widened in alarm. “No. "

  "Promise me. If you stay anywhere near, Jasper will attempt to kill you. " And if I go, he will kill you. And she knew he would welcome that death. Because of her, because of her stupid fear. . .

  "Michael. Don't—"

  "Hush,” he said softly. “Promise me, Nikki. "

  Dread pounded erratically through her heart. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I promise. As long as you make me one. "

  Wariness flickered in his eyes. “What?"

  "Don't die. "

  He smiled grimly. “I promise. Now go. "

  Another lie. Tears filled her eyes. She stared at him a moment longer, then turned and walked out the door.

  * * * *

  The door slammed shut behind her, a harsh sound in the silence. Michael listened to her fading footsteps and knew his heart went with her. But it didn't matter. Nothing did, except keeping her safe from Jasper's taint.

  "I shall savor your defeat, as I shall savor your woman in your memory,” Jasper hissed. Michael pushed away from the wall and lightly shook his arms, loosening tight muscles. “You must win first, worm. "

  "Oh, I shall. "

  Michael quirked an eyebrow. “As your brother won?"

  Jasper snarled in fury. Power seared the room, washing around Michael. He watched Jasper's body twitch. He wouldn't be able to hold him much longer. Jasper was close to his equal now that he'd shared some of his strength with Nikki. And maybe that was for the best. With a snap that stung his mind, the chains shattered. Jasper howled and launched himself across the room. Michael dodged and swung his fist, smashing Jasper's jaw, knocking him sideways. It was totally unnecessary, but the sound of flesh smacking against flesh appeased some need in his soul. Jasper shook his head, laughing as he turned. Energy gathered in the room like an approaching storm. He shifted his stance, watching Jasper warily. Madness lit the younger vampire's eyes. He'd have to be careful. Jasper was as cunning as a cobra, and, in this mood, probably ten times more dangerous. No matter what else happened here today, he had to make sure Jasper died—so Nikki could live her life in peace, without fear, without darkness.

  Energy hit him, flaring around him in a red wave of heat. He flung a bolt of his own and followed right after it. He hit the younger vampire side on, knocking him backwards, closer to the window and the warm morning light.

  Jasper laughed again, a high, inhuman sound. Too late, Michael felt the presence of silver. He thrust backwards, but the blade pierced his side, biting deep. White heat flared, swirling through his body, a tide that promised death.

  But not without Jasper.

  He staggered upright. Energy lashed at him. Michael ignored it and walked forward, watching Jasper's eyes, watching the hint of fear grow as the younger vampire backed away. Ignoring the pain pounding though his body, dredging up every reserve he had, Michael reached out kinetically. The cords of power wrapped chains around Jasper, stopping him cold.

  "How long has it been since you tasted the sun?” he said quietly. “Can you remember its warmth, Jasper? Can you remember the feel of it against your skin?" Jasper made no comment, struggling against Michael's hold, fighting with mind and body to survive. White fire ran through his mind. The knife was weakening him, weakening his ability to hold on. It didn't matter. The window was only a few feet away.

  He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jasper, picking him up. Ignoring Jasper's struggles, ignoring the whips of energy beating through his mind, Michael thrust a cord of power at the window, smashing it. Holding Jasper tight, he dove forward, throwing them both through the shattered window and out into the sunlight.

  * * * *

  Nikki stopped abruptly, her body stiffening with shock. Pain washed heat through her, almost suffocating her. Michael was hurt. Maybe even dying.

  "No!” She spun and ran back to the house. Promise or not, she couldn't let him die. She'd stood back and watched her parents die. Had watched Tommy die. She sure as hell wasn't going to repeat the same mistake with Michael.

  Glass shattered. She slid to a halt and glanced up. Michael and Jasper tumbled out the front window and hit the ground with bone-breaking force.

  Jasper's hiss filled the air with venom, but he didn't burst into flame, as Monica had. But she could feel his desperation, as clearly as she could feel Michael's determination. He was holding onto the younger vampire, but only barely. And with every minute that passed, he was weakening.

  Still she hesitated, needing to help but unsure what she could do. Jasper's struggles were becoming more frantic, his movements more desperate, but he might still have the power to control her. She didn't want to end up attacking the man she was trying to save.

  She bit her lip and watched the two men roll down the slight grassy incline and onto the sidewalk. Michael's dying.

  Jasper's whisper ran through her mind, full of malice. She swore and retrieved the second silver knife from her boot. If one didn't kill him, maybe a second would. A wash of energy hit her, sending her staggering backwards.

  "Stay . . . back!"

  Michael's command was hoarse. Tears sprang to her eyes. Jasper was on top of Michael, fighting with fists and mind against Michael's grip.

  Did he really expect her to simply stand there and watch him die?

  She took a step forward, then stopped. Something glinted brightly between the two men. . . Her knife, wedged deep in Michael's side. K
illing him, as she'd tried to kill Jasper.

  "No!” she screamed, smashing aside the barriers of pain. Reaching out kinetically, she ripped the blade from his side and flung it as far away as she could. She glanced at the knife in her hand and threw that away as well. Just in case Jasper managed to break free from Michael's hold. Both men were weakening. It was evident in their struggles, in the weakening wisps of power running around her. In a last, desperate effort, Jasper screamed, surging upwards, smashing free of Michael's grip and staggering away. His desperation to escape the growing heat of the sun filled her mind . . . then he turned and met her gaze.

  He smiled suddenly. Nikki clenched her fists and backed away. Energy flowed through her, a desperate shield, a last defense.

  "Mine,” Jasper whispered harshly, and lunged at her.

  She hit him with every ounce of kinetic power she had. It wasn't enough to do anything more than thrust him away. Panting harshly, she watched him rise. Ignoring the bright beat of pain smashing at her temples, she hit him again.

  This time he slammed to a halt. The link between her and Michael flared to life. His thoughts caressed hers, and their powers combined.

  Now, Michael whispered.

  Together, they thrust Jasper skywards, holding his struggling body up to the bright sunshine. He screamed, his white skin flaring red as he began to burn. Again energy pulsed, a thin strand of power wrapping tightly around Jasper's throat. Fear washed around them, his struggles becoming more violent as dark flames began to lick around his arms, his hands.

  Nikki dredged up the last of her reserves, battling to hold her share of the psychic cage. The strand of power snapped tight, and there was a sickening crack as his neck was broken. Jasper's eyes went wide with shock an instant before death took his soul to eternal darkness. It was over.

  The last of her strength ebbed away, and she dropped wearily to her knees. Everything hurt—her brain, her body and her heart, but it was worth it. Jasper was dead.

  With the strength of the psychic cage gone, he flopped back to the pavement. His skin was slowly darkening, slowly burning where Monica had burst into flame. But it didn't matter. His neck was broken, and he would not rise again. The sun was only finishing what she and Michael had started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. They'd won—together they'd won. She reached out to link but it was little more than a void—as if Michael had never been a part of her. Fear slammed into her heart. She pushed upright and staggered to his side. He didn't move. She dropped to her knees and frantically felt for a pulse.

  Nothing. No pulse, no sign of life.

  "Damn it, Michael, don't you dare die on me!"

  She rose and grabbed his arms, dragging him back towards her house. Every muscle was screaming by the time she reached the stairs. She hesitated, looking up in despair. Six stairs. It was all that stood between her and home, and they'd never appeared such a mountain before. He was too heavy to carry, too much dead weight. . .

  If she gave up now, he would die. Just like Tommy, just like her parents. She reached for kinetic energy. Warnings beat through her mind—she'd done too much, pushed too far. If she kept pushing, she might lock her mind in an eternal band of pain, never able to use her gifts again. She closed her eyes and reached regardless. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered if Michael died. Energy came. She opened the door, then lifted Michael up and thrust him through. The world spun drunkenly. She grabbed the banister, holding on tight. Gritting her teeth, her breath little more than wheezing gasps, she eased him to the floor. She didn't know how much time he had left. She had to hurry if she wanted to save him.

  She slammed the door shut then staggered over to the shattered window, pulling the blinds closed. If he was to have the slightest chance of life, she had to make sure there was no bright light to weaken him further.

  She knelt by his side and picked up his hand, holding it close to her chest, close to her heart. Reaching forward, she gently brushed dark wisps of hair away from his closed eyes.

  "Come back to me, Michael. "

  There was no response. Tears sprung into her eyes. I don't want to live alone any more, Michael. Please, don't leave me alone!

  "Damn it, you promised me you wouldn't die!"

  And lied when he'd done so. A sob tore past her throat. She couldn't let him die. No matter what the cost, she couldn't let him slip away from her now.

  But maybe he was simply too weak to live.

  She bit her lip, then pushed upright and ran to the kitchen. Michael might not drink human blood anymore, but she had a feeling he needed it to survive.

  She grabbed a knife from the rack, then hesitated. He wouldn't thank her for doing this. She had a feeling his control over his bloodlust had been a battle not easily won. But her only other choice was to watch him die.

  She walked back to his side.

  "Forgive me if I'm doing the wrong thing, Michael, but I love you. I can't sit here and watch you die. " Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead. Then she took a deep breath and sliced her wrist. She forced open his mouth and let the blood drip down his throat. He swallowed convulsively for several seconds, then jerked spasmodically. Lunging forward, he grabbed her arm, holding her still, his grip bruising as he sucked quickly, greedily, at the wound.

  He wasn't awake, wasn't even aware of what he was doing. He could drain her without knowing, and she knew it wouldn't matter. As long as he lived, as long as he broke the curse of her love, she didn't care.

  Through a growing haze of pain, she formed a thin lance of psychic energy. Touching his forehead lightly, she closed her eyes and thrust deep into the darkness holding his mind captive. She plunged down, deep down into his consciousness, deep down into the shadowed areas he'd kept well hidden when their minds had last merged.