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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?”
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 facingan imminent attack from a madman, let me tell you.
