She stood and stepped toward him, hardly realizing she was doing so. This man had become someone new. Someone from her dreams.

“Shannon . . .”

He rushed toward her. His arms spread clumsily before he reached her. She felt as though her chest might explode if she did not touch him now. Their bodies came together. Tanya embraced his broad chest and she began to weep. Shannon held her carefully with trembling arms.

They swayed, holding each other tight. For a few moments, he became the boy under the waterfall once again, strapping and young with a heart as big as the jungle. He was falling in a swan dive, arms spread wide, long blond hair streaming behind. Then they were tumbling under the water and laughing, laughing because he had come back for her.

She buried her face in his neck and smelled his skin and let her tears run down his chest.

The next thought fell into her mind like a stun grenade, obliterating the images with a blinding flash.

This wasn’t Shannon holding her with his flesh pressed against her. This was . . . this was Casius. The killer. The demoniac.

Her eyes opened. Her arms froze, still encircling him. A panic ripped up her spine. God, what have you done to him?

She pushed herself away slowly, carefully, suddenly terrified. He had gone rigid. He stood there and faced her, his thick muscles winding their way around his torso like vines. Angry scars bulged over his chest, like slugs under his skin.

This wasn’t Shannon.

This was some beast who had taken over the body of the boy she had once loved and transformed it into . . . this! A sick joke. With her at its brunt. Oh, dear Tanya, we have decided to answer your prayers after all. Here is your precious Shannon. Never mind that he is twisted and spewing bile from the mouth. You asked for him. Take him.

“No,” she said aloud, and her voice trembled.

Shannon’s eyes flashed questioning.

She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself. She still couldn’t believe that this was happening. That this killer, Casius, was somehow connected to her Shannon. Was Shannon!

“You . . . you’ve changed.”

He stood and she watched his chest expand with heavy breathing. But he did not respond. He seemed suddenly as confused as she.

“What happened to you?” She didn’t mean them to, but the words came out accusing. Bitter.

His upper lip curled to an angry snarl. Like a wounded animal. But he recovered immediately. “I escaped . . . to Caracas. I took the identity of a boy who was killed with his father, the same year my parents were.”

“No! I mean what happened to you? You’ve become . . . them!”

The words somehow reached in and flipped a switch in him. His eyes dimmed and his jaw flexed. She took another step back, thinking she should turn and run away. Leave this nightmare.

“Them? I kill them!” he said.