"Get the keys off the guard," I said, but she was already at the task.

In less than a minute, she had opened the gate. Antony and Schell each took a side and pushed it back enough so that the car could pass through. I went to check on the guard to see if he was still alive. As soon as I crouched down next to him, I sensed something was terribly amiss. I had reached for his wrist to find a pulse and then suddenly became aware that, although he was lying on his back, his head was turned facedown. Calling to the others, I stood and stepped slowly away from the corpse.

"Broken neck," said Schell.

Morgan grunted, turning away from the sight. "I never even noticed."

"Somebody'd have to be pretty strong to do that," said Antony.

"Do we go on, or turn back and call the police?" asked Schell.

"I've got to go to the house," I said. "Isabel's in there."

Schell didn't hesitate. "Okay, let's go," he said.

We piled back into the car, Antony started it, and we cruised slowly up the drive. There were no lights on in the mansion, and the grounds were pitch-black.

After parking, we made our way up the steps to the front door, which we discovered was slightly ajar. Antony took out his lighter and flicked it on. The flame came up and offered a little respite from the darkness, illuminating an area of only about four feet around our huddled group.

"Let's head for the parlor," said Schell.

Antony nearly tripped over the butler in the foyer. When he held the lighter close to the body, it became evident that the man had been strangled. His eyes were huge, his tongue hung from the side of his mouth, and there were angry black-and-blue marks around this throat. Schell knelt and checked the man's pulse. "Forget it," he said.

Everything was happening so fast, and I was at least partially in shock from the sight of the bodies. Every second, I expected someone to leap out of the darkness and wrap their fingers around my throat. As we inched forward into the shadows, I tried to clear my mind enough to think what part of the house Isabel might be in.

We stumbled through the dining room, and it was there Morgan spotted two candles, which she appropriated. Antony lit them and gave his lighter a rest. Schell took one and gave me the other.

"I think the servants' quarters are on the other side of the house," he said. "You'd better go and find Isabel. Antony, go with him."

"Don't know if we should split up, Boss," said the big man.

"Time could be important," said Schell. "Miss Shaw and I will see if we can locate Parks in that parlor where we always met with him. We'll be careful, and believe me, if we need you, you'll hear me scream."

Antony shook his head, still unhappy with the arrangement. I didn't think it was such a great idea myself, but I knew Schell was right. In the time we would spend trying to find Parks, something could be happening to Isabel. We moved through the dining room and came to a main hallway that connected the eastern and western sides of the mansion.

As Antony and I were inching along, listening for sounds of an intruder, he whispered to me, "I'll bet you wish I'd brought the gun."

"From here on out, I'll never try to dissuade you from carrying the gun," I said.

Passing through the indoor swimming pool area, the candlelight reflected off the water and the large glass panes of the floor-to-ceiling windows, creating a dazzling display. Beyond that, the ballroom was a vast, echoing box of blackness. Eventually we came to the hallway that held the door to the room in which Isabel and I'd had our tryst. We'd taken no more than two steps down that corridor when I thought I heard something at the other end.

Lowering the candle so that my vision would not be disturbed by the glare of the flame, I peered into the shadows.

"Did you hear a noise down there?" asked Antony.

"Yeah," I said, and as I spoke, I caught sight of something moving, like a blur. It darted from one side of the hall to the other. I stopped, and Antony walked into me. "There's something down there," I said.

"Kill the light," he said, and when I was too slow to carry out his order, he leaned over my shoulder and blew out the flame.

Smoke rose up in front of me, and for a second that's all I could see, but when that cleared, I saw it again-a white form, like a ghost. It leaped across the hall.

"Shit, I see it," he said. "What the hell is that?"

Next thing I knew, it was moving toward me at an incredible rate, as if flying just above the ground. I was going to warn Antony, but before I could get the words out, a very material fist struck me square in the face and sent me sprawling sideways against the wall. I dropped the candle and very nearly passed out from the blow but held on, teetering in a crouch halfway between standing and falling.

I blinked once, twice, to clear my vision, and when I could see straight again, what I saw was Antony's shadow wrestling with the white form. They moved from one side of the hall to the other, banging into the walls, and the sound of the big man's grunts was interspersed with those of fists hitting their marks.

My eyes began to adjust to the darkness in time to see Antony's silhouette cock back its right hand and land a haymaker directly into what should have been the phantom's head. The white form was driven back by the blow, but it seemed unhurt as it sprang forward again. Some small object hit me in the chest.

"Kid, the lighter. Find the candle and…"

I dove down and scrabbled on the floor to find the lighter. When I sparked it, I noticed the figure had its hands around the big man's throat. I wanted to believe it was just a man, but I wasn't convinced. It was nearly as tall as Antony, pure white, and disfigured in some way I couldn't focus enough to discern. The two were ever moving in and out of the glow from the lighter's flame, and I couldn't get a clear view for more than half a second at a time.

Antony was trying to say something to me, but his words came forth as a kind of gurgling, and judging from the position of the shadowed figures I could tell the thing was strangling him. I forgot my search for the candle, leaped up behind the phantom, and set the flame of the lighter against its back. There followed a high-pitched squeal, like the cry of a wounded animal, and then its elbow shot back and caught me in the chest. I was knocked off my feet by the incredible force of the impact and lay gasping for breath.

I lost consciousness for no more than a few seconds, and when I came to, I managed to prop myself up on my elbow and again flick the lighter to life. Just then another form appeared in a frantic whirl from behind the phantom, who had Antony up against the wall and was obviously wringing his neck. This new presence lifted something high in the air and brought it down on the head of the attacker. There was a dull thud. The phantom dropped its arms, staggered back, and Antony recovered enough to lash out with a right and then a left, landing two punches, either one of which would have put a normal man in the hospital. The thing retreated, turned, and ran into the darkness at the other end of the hall. A moment later there was a sound of glass shattering, and without turning to look, I knew the phantom had smashed through the window at the end of the hall in order to escape.

"Fuck," I heard Antony say in a hoarse whisper. "Kid, you still alive?"

Then there was a hand holding the candle up to the flame of the lighter that was still lit in my hand. I turned and saw Isabel's face. She was leaning down to kiss me.