Get ready, Nikki. It comes, Michael mentally ordered through their shared psychic link.
She flexed her hands. Energy danced across her fingertips, brighter than he'd ever seen it before. Someone knocked loudly on the door. He glanced at her. She cleared her throat, then said, "Who is it?"
No answer.
After several heartbeats, the knock came again. There was no heartbeat, no thoughts, nothing to indicate there was anything human, vampire, or anything else vaguely alive, standing on the other side of the door. It could almost have been a zombie, except for the fact there was no smell, and no shambling step.
He nodded at Nikki again.
"Hang on a sec," she called. What now?
Say you're coming, then step back.
Humor momentarily chased its way through the tension in her expression. I'd rather be coming right now than facing an imminent attack from a madman, let me tell you.
So would I. He reached out through the link, momentarily caressing her mind with warmth and love.
She smiled. And I love you, even if you are the most irritatingly stubborn man at times.
He reached for the door handle, and her smile faded.
The door was rapped a third time.
Do it, he said.
"Coming, coming," she called and stepped backwards, out of immediate sight.
Michael turned the handle and pulled the door open.
)
