“So you denied yourself your gift, and your friend.”

“I had to. There was no one without the other in this. They’re too twined together. She would never have understood or accepted, and damn it, she’d never have stopped nagging at me. Plus, I was pissed at her because . . .”

She knuckled a tear away and said aloud what she’d refused to admit even to herself. “I felt her pain like it was my own, physically felt it. Her grief, her despair. Her desperate love for him. And I couldn’t stand it. We were too close, and I couldn’t breathe.”

“It’s been as hard on you as it has on her. Maybe harder.”

“I guess. I’ve never told anybody any of this. I’d appreciate it if we kept it between us.”

He nodded, and when his lips brushed hers they were warm. “You’ll have to talk to Mia sooner or later.”

“I choose later.” She sniffled again, rubbed her face briskly. “Let’s move on, okay? Or I guess it’s back. You got your readings, you got your tape,” she said, nodding at his equipment. “I didn’t think you’d be able to put me under. I keep underestimating you. It was relaxing, even pleasant.” She pushed back her heavy hair. “And then . . .”

“What then?” he prompted. He didn’t have to check his machines to know her heart rate and respiration were spiking.

“It was like something was trying to get it. Claw its way in. Something crouched and waiting. Boy, that sounds dramatic.” And though she laughed at herself, she drew her knees up protectively. “Not her. It wasn’t her. It was something . . . else.”

“It hurt you.”

“No, but it wanted to. Then I was sliding underwater, and she was the surface. I can’t explain it any other way.”

“That’s good enough.”

“I don’t see what’s good about it. I couldn’t control it. Like I couldn’t control what happened to Zack’s boat. Couldn’t control what I started with the lights tonight. Even though she was inside me, some part of her, it didn’t seem as if she could control it either. Like the power was caught somewhere between. Up for grabs.” She shivered and felt her skin grow icy. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll stop.” He took her hands, soothed. “I’m going to put everything away.”

Though she nodded, she knew he didn’t understand her. She didn’t want any of it any longer. But she was afraid, deeply afraid, that she wasn’t going to be given the choice.

Something was coming, she thought. For her.

He tucked her in like a baby, and she let him. When he drew her close to comfort her in the dark, she pretended to sleep. He stroked her hair, and she felt the beginning of tears. If she was normal, if she was ordinary, her life could be like this, she thought bitterly. She could be held close in the dark by the man she loved.

A simple thing. Everything.

If she’d never met him, she’d have been content to go on as she was. Enjoying a man now and then when he caught her fancy and her interest. Whether or not she would have embraced her powers again she couldn’t be sure. But her heart would have remained her own.

Once you gave your heart, you risked more than self. You risked the one who held it. How could she?

Weary of the worry, she breathed him in, and gave herself to sleep. The storm was back, cold and bitter. It drove the sea into a frenzy of sound and fury. Lightning blasted over the sky, shattering it like glass.

Black rain gushed from the shards to be hurled like frozen barbs by the wicked wind. The storm was feral. And she ruled it.

Power fueled her, pumping through muscle and bone with such glorious strength. Here was an energy beyond anything she’d known before, had believed possible.

And with this force at her fingertips, she would have vengeance.

No, no. Justice. It wasn’t vengeance to seek punishment for wrongs. To demand it. To mete it out with a clear mind.

But her mind wasn’t clear. Even in the throes of her hunger, she knew it. And feared it. She was damning herself.

She looked down at the man who cowered at her feet. What was power if it couldn’t be used to right wrongs, to stop evil, to punish the wicked?

“If you do this, it ends in violence. In hopelessness.”

Her grief-stricken sisters stood in the circle, and she without.

“I have the right!”

“No one does. Do this, and you rip out the heart of the gift. The soul of what you are.”

She was already lost. “I can’t stop it.”

“You can. Only you can. Come, stand with us. It’s he who will destroy you.”

She looked down and saw the face of the man change, features over features that slid from terror, to glee, to plea, to hunger.

“No. He ends here.”

She threw up a hand. Lightning exploded, arrowed down to her fingertips. And became a silver sword.

“With what is mine I take your life. To right the wrong and end the strife. For justice I set my fury free, and take the path of destiny. From this place and from this hour. . .” Thrilled, darkly thrilled, she lifted the sword high as he screamed. “I will taste the ripe fruit of power. Blood for blood I now decree. As I will, so mote it be.”

She brought the sword down in one vicious swipe. He smiled as its tip sliced flesh. And he vanished. The night screamed, the earth trembled. And through the storm, the one she loved came running.

“Stay back!” she shouted. “Stay away!”

But he fought his way through the gale, reaching for her. From the tip of her sword, lightning erupted, and arrowed into his heart.

“Ripley, come on, honey. Wake up now. It’s a bad dream.”

She was sobbing with it, and the wrenching grief in the sound worried him more than the trembling.

“I couldn’t stop it. I killed him. I couldn’t make it stop.”

“It’s over now.” He fumbled for the bedside lamp, but couldn’t find the switch. Instead he simply sat up with her, cuddled her, rocked. “It’s all over now. You’re okay. Wake up.” He kissed her damp cheeks, her forehead.

Her arms banded around him like steel. “Mac.”

“That’s right. I’m here. You had a nightmare. Do you want me to turn on the light, get you some water?”

“No, just . . . no. Hold on to me a minute, okay?”