“Yet you bleed.” He gestured toward her arm, her throat. “Is the pain a lie? Is your fear?” His smile spread as he came closer. “Youve been a challenging opponent. You have a clever mind and a strong will. Clever enough, strong enough to have changed some small pieces of my picture. Imagining the stairs and the door to this place took considerable strength. Bringing her here”—he gestured toward the cloaked figure—“even more. I commend you.”
Her mouth trembled open, then she shut it again. Had she imagined it, the route, the door? Had she willed the ghost into being?
No, no she didnt believe she had. Shed been circling in confusion.
Jordan. It was Jordans book. And he was a man with a clever mind and a strong will. Somehow he was trying to help her. Damned if she was going to let him fail.
She was Dana, she reminded herself. And she was Kate—Jordans Kate. Neither one of them would cower at the end.
“Maybe Ill just imagine you jumping off that wall to your bloody, messy death.”
“Still hissing. A cornered cat. Perhaps Ill simply leave you here, deep inside a book. You should thank me, as books are one of your pleasures.”
He inclined his head as she got to her feet, as he saw her wince of pain. “Or perhaps Ill step back and let the killer come onstage. It would be interesting to see you battle him, though in my version you may not triumph. Either way, it would be entertaining. Yes, I believe Id enjoy the theater of it.”
The white scarf vanished from his hands. “Do you remember how she hears him shambling up the steps, what she feels run through her when she understands that shes trapped?”
Danas breath began to hitch once more as she heard the slow, oncoming footsteps.
He couldnt force her to do anything, she remembered. He could only trick her mind. “How the fear clutched in her belly as she understood that she had run exactly where hed wanted her to run? And below, her lover sees her standing in the light of the moon, sees the
phantom beyond her, and the killer as he steps out onto the stone.
“And he calls her name, in terror and despair, as he knows he can never reach her in time.”
“Sure he can. All it takes is a rewrite.”
Kane whirled as Jordan leaped out of the doorway.
The force of the attack knocked Kane back against the wall.
“You have no place here!”
“This is my place.” Putting all his rage into it, Jordan rammed his fist into Kanes face. It burned as if hed shoved his hand into fire. Still, he reared back to do it again. And was lifted off his feet and flung backward.
“Die here, then.”
A sword shot up from the hand Kane raised. Dana sprang to her feet, and charged him, sprang onto his back to fight with teeth and nails and spitting fury. She heard someone howling, and realized as her throat opened again, that the sound came from her.
Kane knocked her away with a vicious backhand that sent her slamming hard against Jordan. She saw blood on his face, from wounds that both she and Jordan had inflicted.
And her heart danced.
“You will know pain,” she shot out at him.
His eyes gleamed black as he raised the sword. “And you, worse. Your blood will seal you here.”
But as he swung down to strike, his hand was empty.
“Lets see if gods fly,” Jordan said. Both he and Dana rushed forward.
Dana felt her shoving hands connect, then they passed through him as he vanished.
There was a swirl of smoke, a flash of dull blue light. Then nothing but the moon and shadows.
“Did I do that?” She had to wheeze out the words. “Or did you?”
“I dont know.” He caught her when her legs gave way, and lowered them both to the stone floor. “I dont care. Jesus, youre bruised and bleeding. But Ive got you.” He wrapped her tight in his arms. “Ive got you.”