Shifted, then disappeared.
Nikki blinked, wondering if her eyes were playing tricks on her. The night appeared silent, empty. Yet the more she stared into the darkness, the more certain she became that someone was there, watching her.
She shivered, but resisted the urge to rise from the cold concrete floor. Until she had an idea of where she was, there was no point in moving. Who knew what traps might wait in the darkness. The minutes crept by. Sweat broke out across her brow, and fear crawled through her heart. Though there was no sign of Jasper in the uneasy darkness, he was there, somewhere. The foul scent of his evil filled the air.
She clenched her fists and tried to still the sudden rush of panic. She had to stay calm if she wanted to survive. Taking a deep breath, she tried to contact Michael through their link. Only he wasn't there.
Nothing was.
Her psychic abilities no longer answered her call. Bile rose in her throat. She swallowed heavily. What had Jasper done to her?
Laughter rolled across the night, a rich sound that made her skin crawl with terror.
"Your lover will not hear you."
Jasper's voice spun through the darkness, entwining her in corruption. She still couldn't see him, nor did she have any sense of him. What was wrong with her?
"He's not my lover.” Her voice was little more than a harsh whisper that burned against her throat's sudden dryness. She licked her lips and tried again. “And why won't he hear me?" The night stirred, and Jasper appeared. There was an almost terrible beauty in watching his perfect body find shape from the midnight silence.
Then she realized he was naked.
Her heart skipped several beats. Closing her eyes, she tried to control the terror squeezing her throat. Despite the soreness of her limbs, she sensed Jasper hadn't touched her yet. But he would. She could feel his hunger.
He laughed. She resisted the urge to roll into a tight ball of fear and sat up instead. The concrete scraped harshly across her buttocks. Only then did she realize that she was as naked as he.
"When the form is as beautiful as ours, why cover it?" To emphasize his point, he struck a pose, showing the muscular splendor of his body. Mad ... He has to be mad . She wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them close to her chest. “What do you want with me?"
"Many things.” The amusement fled his features. “Mostly, I want you to help me kill the man who murdered my brother."
"Never."
He laughed softly. “Oh, you will help me, pretty one." She didn't bother refuting the statement. He smiled and walked to the far corner of the room, his movements grace itself. Nikki blinked, suddenly realizing she could see. The night had begun to lift, and dawn seeped through the boarded up window to her right. Freedom. Yet she didn't dare move. She had no doubt he would kill her if she so much as blinked the wrong way right now... He turned, holding a syringe in one hand. Relief surged. That was why her head felt so fuzzy. He was drugging her.
"This won't put you out.” His smile made her edge back slightly. “Only stop you moving and cloud your gifts. I have no wish for you to call your lover so soon." Fear held her immobile. He knelt and slid the needle into her thigh. His hand caressed her skin, his touch hot, possessive. She closed her eyes and held her breath.
Jasper laughed and rose. Her eyes jerked open, and she watched him move to the bed. He played with her, she realized grimly. Tasted her fear, fueling its flames. Savoring it. She knew then that he wouldn't physically touch her. Not for a while, anyway. This man enjoyed violation of another kind more—the heart, the soul and the mind. Like a cat playing with its prey, he would toy with her until she broke.
Then he would use her to trap and kill Michael.
She had to escape this mad man's grasp.
Footsteps whispered through the silence. Laughter surrounded her, provocative yet chilling. Not Jasper's. Monica's.
She closed her eyes, refusing to acknowledge the teenager's presence. Bedsprings squeaked as Monica joined her lover on the bed. After several more minutes came soft moans and the rustle of sheets. All she could do was ignore the noise of their lovemaking and try to rest. Like Jasper's word games, she knew this was meant to be some perverted form of torture. But if they hoped to shock her, hoped to encourage the first tiny cracks in her sanity, they were in for a surprise. She'd seen and heard a lot worse during her years on the streets.
Yet she couldn't help the tiny hope that daylight would quickly drive them into oblivion. Or better yet, to hell.
* * * *
Pain woke her. Her heart pounded, racing uncomfortably in her chest. She opened her eyes. Jasper knelt beside her, warm breath kissing her skin, his gaze burning with desire as he watched ... And sucked blood from her wrist.
Nikki screamed and tried to jerk her arm away. He held her still, his grip bruising as he drained her life away. There was nothing she could do to stop him.
As the realization of death hit her, he pulled away.
His razor-sharp teeth left her skin, and the hot ached eased. Smiling, still watching her every movement, he licked the remaining droplets away. His tongue danced sensually across her wrist, and the two small holes healed.
The horror of it filled every corner of her mind. It felt as if his depravity had somehow invaded her soul and left it stained. He laughed, white teeth gleaming, canines still tarnished by her blood. She closed her eyes, desperate to control the rising tide of hysteria. That's what he intended, what he wanted. It was just part of his tricks, part of his attempt to break her will.