And that's where he's going,she thought.
The two-way buzzed softly. "Nik, I'm in the car. Where are you?"
She pressed the receiver. "Ocean Road, just past Second."
"I'm parallel on West. Let me know if he changes direction or meets a car."
"Will do."
They continued on—Matthew striding out, her half running to keep up with him. Boxlike shapes began to loom up around them as houses gave way to factories and warehouses. The faint wash of traffic noise seemed to die completely, and in the silence, her breathing seemed sharp and harsh.
Ahead, Matthew stopped in the puddle of an overhead light and glanced at his watch. He looked briefly to his right, then turned left, heading into a small side street.
She pressed the two-way. "He's just turned into an alley. He's heading your way."
"Last cross street?"
She frowned, thinking back. "Sixth."
"Just passed it. I'll park and wait."
She stopped near the street entrance and peered around the corner. Matthew was nowhere in sight.
Swearing softly, she hurried down the street, keeping an eye on the fences lining either side of the road, looking for gaps or gateways the teenager could have gone through. Nothing. But halfway down on the right she came across a small street. The teenager was a dark shadow moving quickly away.
She sighed in relief. "He's turned off again," she told Jake. She glanced up, studying the unlit street sign.
"Heading down Baker's Lane toward the docks."
"That street comes to a dead end."
She hoped it was just a figure of speech and not a reality. "It's a rather odd place to meet an Internet friend, don't you think?"
"If it is a friend he's meeting, then yes. But all sorts of perverts go trawling the chat rooms looking for innocents like Matthew."
She kept close to the fence on the off chance that Matthew turned around. At least in the darker shadows lining the fence she'd be harder to spot. "Problem is, I've got a feeling it's not your average pervert we're looking at here."
Jake groaned. "That's all we need. I'm heading in—and bringing a gun."
"Be careful, Jake. I really don't like the feel of this."
"Oh, great. Maybe I'll call the cops, just to be safe."
"And tell them what? I've a got feeling?" When it came to her psychic abilities, skepticism ran high within the police department. It was doubtful if a statement like that would get anything other than laughter.
Jake grunted. "Don't do anything stupid until I get there."
Meaning she could do something stupid after he got there? She grinned, though it didn't ease the tension knotting her stomach.
The street narrowed, and the warehouses on either side seemed to loom in on her. She skirted several
Dumpsters and screwed up her nose. From the amount of rubbish overflowing onto the street, they hadn't been emptied for several weeks. Combine that with the heat of the last few days, and the result was stomach turning.
Matthew stopped. She ducked behind a stinking Dumpster and held her nose as she peered around the side. He was studying the buildings on either side, but after a few seconds he turned and ran at the fence on the left. She waited until he'd disappeared over the top and moved after him.
"He's just climbed a fence. Third warehouse from the end."
"Wait for me."
"I might lose him if I do."
Jake swore. "Damn it, be careful."
"You be careful. I'm not the one who can die here."
"But you're not immortal either, and I'm more than a little certain Michael didn't tell you everything about his gift of life everlasting."
She smiled grimly. Michael had never told her more than what he thought she needed to know. Bare facts, nothing more—especially when it came to anything concerning his past or what he did for a living.
"I'm heading over."
She grabbed the chain link and pulled herself over the fence. Dropping to the ground on the other side, she crouched, her gaze sweeping the darkness. It had to be some sort of produce warehouse—packing crates were lined in neat rows, those closest containing limp remnants of lettuce leaves.
Matthew could have gone anywhere. She stayed where she was, listening intently. The wind moaned through the silence, raising the hairs on the back of her neck. She rubbed her arms, then reached down, withdrawing a knife from her right boot. Made of the purest silver, it was one of two she'd had specially designed after her little dance with Jasper. If an old kitchen knife with only the smallest amount of silver in it could stop him , her new knives should stop just about anything. That's what she was hoping, anyway.
From the right came a soft, metallic squeal. She rose, padding quickly through the rows of crates. An old brick building loomed through the darkness. She stopped at the end of the row and peered out. To her left were several large entrances, all shuttered. To the right, nothing but brick wall. The sound had come from around the corner.
She ran to the wall, then edged forward and looked around the corner. Matthew's sandals were disappearing through a window.
"Jake, Matthew has just entered the warehouse through a window on the right side of the building. I'm just about to follow."
"I'm almost with you, Nik."
Almost wasn't good enough. She couldn't afford to wait. The sensation of danger had risen tenfold and was threatening to stifle her.
She edged around the corner and made her way to the window. It was a foot or so above her reach, but there were several packing crates stacked close enough to use as a ladder. She climbed them carefully and peered through the window.
There was no sound, no light. Just a darkness thick enough to carve. Yet the warehouse was far from empty. Somewhere in the blackness, evil waited.
Fear rose, squeezing her throat tight. Nikki closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If she didn't go into the warehouse after Matthew, Jake would. Though he was armed, they both knew from experience that guns weren't much of a threat to a vampire.
Why she thought it was a vampire who waited inside, Nikki couldn't say. Evil came in many forms—some of them human, some of them not. Maybe it was just Jasper's memory rising like a ghost to tease her fears to life.
But she'd let those fears get the better of her once—and had lost Michael because of them. They would never get the better of her again.
She pulled herself through the window then hunkered down, listening for any hint of sound. Beyond the harsh note of her breathing the silence was absolute—as absolute as the darkness. If Matthew was moving around in this, he had to have the eyes of a cat.
Keeping one hand against the outer wall for guidance and the other in front of her, she slowly moved forward. Five steps in she hit another wall and followed it out into the warehouse.
A sound broke the silence—something heavy clattering across the concrete. A soft curse followed.
"Lizzie? You in here?" Matthew's voice held a combination of petulance, bravado and fear. "Why don't you stop playing games and come out?"
"You lied to me, Matthew."
Though the words were soft, there was something in them that spoke of death. Ice crawled across
Nikki's skin.
"Only about my age." The whine in Matthew's voice was more evident this time. "Only by a few years."
"Years matter, especially to someone like me."
The husky voice was drawing closer to Matthew. So was the sense of death. A chill chased its way across Nikki's overheated skin. She closed her eyes briefly, restraining the urge to scream for help. If she did, Matthew would die.
"So what if I lied about my age. It doesn't change who I am or what I feel."
He was close, maybe only a few steps away. Nikki edged to her left, the knife grasped tightly in one hand, the other outstretched. She'd probably scare the life out of him if she touched him, but at least it was a touch he'd survive. He wouldn't be so lucky if his husky-voiced girlfriend got to him first.