Amused, Mia started to straighten. The pain came fast, bright, like a spear of light through the temple. She saw a man with pale eyes and bright hair, and the gleam of the blade.

“Call Zack.” She rushed to the door, calling out to a startled Lulu. “There’s trouble. Nell’s in trouble. Call Zack.”

She raced into the street, swung around a group of costumed children and nearly plowed into Ripley. “Nell.”

“I know it.” Ripley’s head was still ringing. “We have to hurry.”

She came to slowly, her vision fractured, her head screaming. There was absolute silence. She rolled, moaning, and managed to get to her hands and knees. Nausea sent her curling into a ball again.

The kitchen was dark now, lit only by the faint glow of a candle in the center of the table.

He sat there, in one of her kitchen chairs. She could see his shoes, the gleam of them, the perfect crease in his slacks, and she wanted to weep.

“Why do you make me punish you, Helen? I can only think you must enjoy it.” He nudged her with his shoe. “Is that it?”

She started to crawl away. Just a moment, she prayed. Give me one moment to breathe, and I can find my strength again.

He simply pressed his foot into her back.

“We’re going to go somewhere where we can be alone. Where we can discuss all this foolishness, all this trouble you’ve caused me.”

He frowned a little. How was he to get her away? He hadn’t meant to put marks on her, not where they could be noticed. She had pushed him to it.

“We’ll walk to my car,” he decided. “You’ll wait there for me while I pack and check out.”

She shook her head. She knew it was useless, but she shook her head, then began to cry quietly when she felt Diego brush against her legs.

“You’ll do exactly as I say.” He tapped the tip of the knife against the table. “If you don’t, you’ll leave me no choice. People already believe you’re dead, Helen. Beliefs can easily become reality.”

His head snapped up as he heard a sound outside the door. “Perhaps the fisherman’s come calling,” he whispered, and rose, turning the knife in his hand.

Zack opened the door, hesitating, cursing as the phone on his belt rang. The break in stride saved his life.

He caught a blur of movement, a glimpse of the blade hacking down. He twisted, going for his weapon with a cross-body draw. The knife ripped through his shoulder instead of burying itself in his heart.

Nell screamed, gained her feet, only to have her head spin and send her staggering. In the dark kitchen, she could see the two silhouettes struggle. A weapon, she thought, biting her lip to keep from passing out again.