Still no response. He slipped off the table, but his legs refused to hold his weight and he fell to his knees.
Cursing the weakness, urgency beating through his soul, he gripped the table with his good arm and forced himself upright again. Forced his legs to hold.
Moisture trickled down his face. He thrust at it impatiently, knowing by the smell it was blood. The gash on his head was a good three inches long and probably would have been dangerous had he been anything other than a vampire.
He expanded his senses, searching the night again. Pain beat though his head, an agony he had no choice but to ignore. The colors churning through the void were becoming more frantic. Wherever Nikki was, she needed his help fast.
There was no one in the cavern—not Nikki nor Cordell. He cursed, thrusting a hand through his blood-matted hair. This didn't make sense. She was here somewhere, regardless of what his senses were saying—her thoughts were too close, too strong, for her to be anywhere else.
Flame imps darted across the waterfall's pond, their color flashing red and gold. Oh God, no… Gut twisting, he hobbled forward. The imps' light washed red across the churning surface of the water, making it look slick with blood. Magic stung the night, and the air seemed to howl.
The churning in the water grew more agitated. Suddenly, Cordell's limp body surged free, shooting past
Michael to land like a wet sack of rags near the fire pit. He didn't move, but he wasn't dead. Michael could still hear the tremulous beat of his heart.
Time to kill the fiend. He took a step toward Cordell, then stopped. Nikki hadn't surfaced, and the churning water had calmed.
He cursed and jumped into the pond. The water was icy, its touch numbing, snatching away the pain of moving his shattered limb.
It wasn't just the imp's light making the water look red. There was blood, and lots of it. Fear slammed through him. He reached for the link, but was met by silence. Her terror was gone, replaced by an odd sort of peace.
It was the same sort peace that he'd felt in her once before when the specter of death had almost claimed her life in the mine collapse Jasper had arranged.
She can't be dead.Surely he would know. She was part of his heart, part of his soul. All that mattered to him. Surely he would know if she had died.
He kicked his feet, twisting around, diving one-handed to the depths. The pond was deeper than it looked, the water as dark as hell itself. She could be anywhere. He didn't care. He'd search for an eternity if that's what it took to find her.
His hand brushed against cotton, then skin. He grabbed her hand, kicking upwards, dragging her back to the surface with him.
Cordell hadn't moved. Michael kicked toward the edge until he could stand and dragged Nikki out of the water, thrusting her onto her side. She coughed, water spewing from her mouth. He dropped beside her and touched her neck. Her skin was like ice, and she was shivering so hard that her teeth were clashing together violently. Her pulse was fragile and weak, but at least she was alive. The weight lifted from his chest, letting him breathe again.
Then he saw the slash in her sweater, the raw welts on her skin. Cordell had tasted her, fed off her. Fury washed through him. For that alone, the bastard would die.
He rose and hobbled towards Cordell. The fiend moved. Lightning split the night, arcing towards him.
Michael dove away, landing with a grunt on his left side, jarring his broken arm. A sea of red swam before his eyes, and a scream tore up his throat. He gritted his teeth, and the scream became a hiss of pain. Sweat rolled down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He blinked it away and, supporting his right arm with his left, rolled back to his feet.
Cordell had propped himself up against a rock. His breathing was labored, his face little more than flesh stretched over a death mask. The magic was sapping his strength, taking him beyond the restorative powers of his vampire heritage. Maybe it was only the flame imps' energy that had kept him alive this long.
"You cannot defeat me, vampire. My magic will outlast your strength. When you collapse, I will feed off you. Then I will use the blood of your woman to complete my ceremony."
"I will see you in hell first, Cordell." He walked towards him, watching the fiend's eyes, waiting for the next attack. The more Cordell used his magic, the weaker he became. All he had to do was stay out of the path of the lightning and wait for Cordell's collapse.
Lightning split the air, weaker than before. Michael dodged, felt the sizzle of energy burn past his ear.
Cordell raised his hands. "Any farther, and I blast your girlfriend."
Michael clenched his fists but didn't stop. Cordell's last blast had been weak and wouldn't have held the strength to even reach Nikki, let alone hurt her. The man was bluffing.
Cordell's eyes widened in fear, but he wasn't staring at Michael but past him.
"Stop."
The voice was Nikki's and yet not. He stopped and turned. She stood near the waterfall, her skin glowing with heat, eyes afire. Two flame imps rotated above her head, their color a deep, dark red. The color of anger, he thought.
She looked ethereal, otherworldly. This wasn't his Nikki. The flame imps had taken over her body, using her now as they had used her once before. Quelling his fear, knowing there was little he could do anyway, he reached for the link. An inferno greeted him, but deeper than the flames he felt peace. Nikki wasn't afraid of the imps or their intentions.
He wasn't so certain of them. But they hadn't hurt her the first time, and he just had to hope they wouldn't hurt her now.
"Step away from him," she continued, her gaze not wavering from Cordell. "Move to the table. Use it as cover." Though her voice was flat, her amber eyes glowed with heat. Flames danced across her finger—real flames, not just the sparks of kinetic energy.
He stepped back to the cloth-covered table. Cordell made a strange sound in his throat and raised his hands. Lightning cut through the night, but its force was weak, fading long before it reached Nikki.
She didn't react. "In memory of those of who will no longer dance under the orb of life, we sentence you to death. In memory of the two legs that you have used, we sentence you to death. You will burn in the
heat you seek to empty us of, and we will scatter your ashes on the wind so that you will never know peace."
Cordell whimpered and pushed away from the rock, dragging his half-dead body across the ground in a useless attempt to escape.
Nikki raised her hands. Fire leapt between her palms, pulsing brightly as it found form and became an orb that flamed as bright as the sun.
Michael threw up a hand to protect his face from the glare, but the growing ball raced heat across his flesh. Her words hit him—the heat of the sun was one of two things that could kill a vampire, and that was what the imps were attempting to create here now.
He ducked under the table and hoped the tablecloth was thick enough to protect him. Heat burned through the air, and Cordell screamed, a high-pitched sound of agony that quickly died. Flames crackled, and the smell of burning flesh rent the air.
The heat died. Michael climbed out from under the table. Cordell was little more than a patch of black soot. Even as he watched, a wind stirred his remains, spiraling them toward the roof and out of sight.
Nikki was still standing near the water, but her arms were by her sides, and the fire seemed to have left her flesh. Even the imps rotating above her head looked gray and lifeless. He hurried towards her.
She looked at him. Fire crackled through her amber gaze, but its touch was distant. "We thank you both for your help. You have released those who were bound, and now we are free to continue our dance.