“I think this belongs to you?” He held out the hoop.

“My earring! Where did you find it?”

“My buddy Jim picked it up in the parking lot outside the club.”

“Oh, thank you.” She pushed her hair out of the way and put it on. “I didn’t want to lose these. They’re not worth much, but I like them.”

“So…thanks for the pancakes.”

“You’re welcome.” She paused before she got behind the wheel. “You know, you should take a day off. You look really tired.”

“Probably just the bruises on my face.”

“No, it’s the ones behind your eyes that make you seem worn down.”

As she slid in and started the car, Vin caught a flash from over on the left and he looked across the river—

The instant the sun hit his retinas, his body seized up and tingled all over.

There was no gradual, fogging possession this time. The hateful trance claimed him between one second and the next, as if what had happened the night before had been just a warm-up and this was the real deal.

Sagging against Marie-Terese’s hood, he went for his coat, opening it so he got some air—

When the vision struck him, it was more sound than image and it replayed over and over: A gunshot. Ringing out and echoing. Someone falling. A body dropping on a thunderous bounce. A gunshot. Ringing out and echoing. Someone falling. A body dropping on a thunderous bounce…

As his knees buckled and he sank down onto the asphalt, he struggled to stay conscious, holding on mentally to anything he could—which turned out to be the memory of when he’d had his first attack. He’d been eleven and the trigger had been a watch, a ladies’ watch that he’d seen in the window of a jeweler’s downtown. He’d been on a field trip with his classmates to the Caldwell Art Museum, and as he’d passed by the store, he’d looked at the display.

The watch had been a silver one, and when the sunlight had hit it, his eye had focused on the flash and he’d stopped in his tracks. Blood on the watch. There had been bright red blood on the watch.

Just as he’d struggled to understand what he was seeing and why he suddenly felt so strange, a female hand had reached into the display and picked the thing up. Behind her, there had been a man standing with happy expectation in his face, a customer….

Except the guy couldn’t buy the watch—whoever wore it next was going to die.