She'd had her own share of dreams and fantasies. But still…

"Maybe… maybe Gema is here. You think you saw her, Suzette. And both of you and Doug supposedly dreamed about her. Maybe she… maybe she's ill. Wandering. And carrying some kind of terrible flu with her," Stephanie said.

"Yeah, maybe," Doug said dryly.

"And why not?" Stephanie asked.

"How would that explain Lena getting so ill first—before anyone saw or imagined Gema's having returned?"

Stephanie had no logical explanation.

Grant came out through the emergency room doors, a bandage around his arm. Antinella followed him, speaking in Italian. Grant seemed to understand him, because he shook his head, giving the doctor a rueful grimace. "I don't need to lie down—I'm fine. I swear, I'm fine." He looked around. "Where are Clay and Liz? They could use another pint for Doug."

"They left," Suzette said.

"He has bad blood, or the wrong blood," Lena added.

Grant shook his head with disgust, looking annoyed again.

"He's welcome to a bunch of mine, but it won't do him any good," Stephanie said, hearing the rise in her voice.

Drew sighed. "They went back to the resort. He seemed to think he could find out something more about Doug's illness. By talking to people, I guess."

Grant let out a sound of irritation. "I'm going back—I think I'm going to try and find out a few things on my own as well."

He headed out the door. Stephanie suddenly chased after him. She caught him out in the parking lot, grabbed his arm, spinning him back around to face her.

She thought that she didn't know him. His features were taut, ferocious. She stepped back, feeling the wave of his heat and anger wash over her. She gritted her teeth, amazed that she still felt the urge to simply touch him. He was infuriating her, but he had never seemed more attractive or compelling.

"Grant, you've got to stop this," she told him.

"Stop what?"

"You're going after Clay."

"You're wrong. I'm not going after Clay."

"Well, you've got something against him that's ridiculous," she said. "And you're going to cause a terrible schism in everything, as if we're not having enough trouble with this disease, whatever this thing might be—"

"The disease is Clay."

"Grant!"

"Somehow, it is. I'm telling you."

She forced herself to step back, to shake her head. "Grant, I swear to you, I'm beginning to believe that you're the disease."

He was still, staring back at her. Shoulders broad and square, blue eyes nearly ebony and narrowed with tension.

"Think what you like," he said, and turned again.

"Grant!"

He paused, his back to her for several seconds. Then he spun again.

"What, Stephanie?"

"Stay in your own cottage tonight."

"I can't leave you alone."

"Oh, yes, you can. Because I'm afraid to have you with me."

He stared at her and seconds passed like heartbeats. He muttered something.

She thought it might well have been the word bitch.

Then he took the few steps back to her and gripped her arms. She saw the muscles twitch in his throat, the beat of his pulse against a vein. "I will never leave you alone. Never. Lock me out. You'll never be alone."

But he released her then, as if she were somehow tainted, turned and strode for his car. As she watched him go, she was shaking. Her knees were weak. She was hot, and chilled, and she was angry…

And she was glad.

She could force herself to behave sanely.

But she didn't feel that way at all.

She was afraid…

But she wanted him more than ever. She wanted him so much that…

Fear be damned.

She squared her shoulders, furious with herself. She'd meant it. She was locking herself into her cottage that night. Somehow, Grant was simply going to have to get a grip on his anger and emotions.

She loved him. But it was far too easy to see herself… a moth drawn to the flame. The way she felt was too deep, too fevered. Too desperate. As if… as if her emotions were even deeper than the time they'd been together, of the flesh, not of the flesh…

She groaned aloud, clenching her hands into fists at her side.

Then, as she stood there, it seemed that a deep, sweeping cloud came over the moon. And standing alone in the darkness outside the hospital, she felt vulnerable, as she never had before.

Stephanie… come!

It was the darkness, the strange shadows. She clamped her hands over her ears. She was letting her imagination play terrible tricks on her.

Stephanie…

She thought she heard throaty laughter.

It was only the sound of the wind, whispering through the trees.

She turned and ran back to the hospital.

Back to the blazing light that she knew, beyond a doubt, to be real.

Because she knew, deep in her heart, that she was being called.

Called…

Into the darkness.

Chapter 13

He knew instantly, before he returned, that something had gone wrong, something that didn't fit the plan.

And he knew what.

He found her in his private quarters.

And it was what he'd expected.

She was like a well-fed cat, stretched out on the little love-seat, the look of absolute pleasure and satiation in her eyes. He tried to remember that she was young, that the hunger could be an overwhelming desire, but that did little to ease his temper. She was as disposable as any other; she had been useful, but she had turned that usefulness now into a situation that could destroy his careful plans.

She smiled when she saw him, and he knew she was feeling her strength and power.

"So… you disobeyed me," he said.

She rose, still sleek as a cat, perhaps more sinuous than ever, so aware of herself, of her new being. "Yes, I disobeyed you," she said, and she came to him, playfully teasing at his hair, sending a finger to draw a line down his cheek. "I," she informed him, "am the same as you. And I have wants and desires as well. And the power to take what I will."

He shook his head, calm despite the rage burning inside.

"No, no, little one, you don't understand. I have a certain protection. One that you are lacking.

You will be caught."

"Caught? What would it matter? Why… if a big, bad wolf came after me, I would just eat him all up."

Again, he shook his head. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "There are still things beneath heaven and earth that you don't understand. Different beings, different strengths, those who live and let others live, and those who think to rule the universe for those they consider to be evil and out of control. But that doesn't really matter now. You disobeyed me."

"I am my own power," she insisted.

"I told you, I am the lord."

"I want to be my own master."

"I am the lord, and the lord giveth, and the lord taketh away."

She never knew what was happening. It was almost a pity. She should have learned some humility.

His hands moved dexterously from her shoulders to cradle her head.

Then he snapped, and twisted.

There was an odd and horrible popping sound.

Her body fell into a pile at his feet.

Time to feed the demon dogs.

Doug had been taken to a room. He slept, and seemed to do so peacefully. Machines monitored his vital signs, and an IV brought vital fluids into his body.

Arturo had gone back to the resort, but Liz had returned to the hospital, saying that she wanted to take a turn sitting at Doug's side.

Stephanie was curious that she spent so much time speaking with the doctor in Italian, but whatever she was saying, Antinella seemed to agree with her. They looked grave when they spoke.

Stephanie decided that she didn't want Liz in with Doug alone. Then she began to wonder why it seemed that she didn't trust anyone anymore. Even the doctor seemed suspicious, and that was because he was talking to Liz. Liz was suspicious because she had come to them through Clay; Clay was suspicious because Grant made her so nervous about the man, but then, there was Grant, and he was suspicious because… there were a million reasons. She wasn't even sure what they all were.

For the first hour they were allowed in, she and Suzette sat with Doug. He had color, Stephanie was glad to see, and Drew, coming in with Lena and Liz to spell them, seemed to be greatly relieved.

She asked Drew to follow her as she left the room.

When he was in the hallway with her, she hesitated, then told him, "Whatever happens, let's keep two people with him at all times."

He frowned. "All right," he said slowly. He kept staring at her. "You're worried about someone in particular, aren't you?"

"No… yes. Drew, I'm just not secure with Liz being alone with him."

He seemed really surprised. "She's one of the nicest people I've ever met," he told her.

"I know. I think so, too."

"But?"

"Drew, I'm beginning to get the feeling that none of us should be alone."

"Maybe I spooked you with that talk about dreams. I had to sound crazy, right?"

"I wish you had sounded entirely crazy," she told him. "Maybe it is crazy. Just please don't let Doug be alone… especially with Liz."

"You got it, kid."

"Did you find a place to eat while we were in with Doug?" she asked him.

He nodded. "A little café right around the corner. I'm pretty sure the woman said they were open until eleven. Luckily, this is Italy, and having dinner late is natural."

"Great. Okay, Suzette and I will get some dinner, and be back."

"Are we staying here all night?" he asked her.

"You think you sound crazy?" she asked him. "I just think that we need to be around a while, okay?