"He's been dead for years. Jesus Christ, Wade, you still don't get it, do you? How many people do you think this ‘old man' murdered?"

"None. He fed on rabbits."

"Did she tell you that? She's lying. Remember her painting? The one you kept. I got sick touching it. That pretty face is a joke. It protects her, like a gun or armor. She'd rip your throat out in a second."

"That doesn't make you judge and executioner. Remember? You wouldn't even shoot at a fleeing criminal. You were good at what you did. Everybody wanted to be you."

Recognition, pain, flickered across Dominick's unshaven face. "This is different. Rules don't work." He walked over and looked down at William's body, as the flesh was just beginning to crack. "These things look at us as cattle. They butcher us to live."

This was war. And what if Dom was right? What if the last semblance of sanity still dwelled in him? Wade thought of Eleisha's tiny face, her frightened eyes, and his own growing fascination with her. What if he was wrong, the police were blind, and only Dominick fought on the right side anymore?

"She's not what you think," Wade said. "Her whole existence surrounded that old man. Now that he's dead, I don't know what she'll do. You have to report this, though. You've killed someone."

"No, I don't. In a few minutes there won't be a body."

"Where did you learn so much about these people?"

"Touching things. Her things and Claymore's. His house was a memory smorgasbord."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Wade asked.

"I didn't think you'd believe me."

"You could've let me in."

"My head? No." Dom's expression grew sad. "You're my friend. Trust me on this. My head isn't someplace you want to be."

"If you could just see her, talk to her-"

"Is she here?"

"No."

"Where is she, Wade?"

"I'm not going to let you hurt her."

"You can't stop me." Dom turned away from William's body and locked eyes with Wade. "What is going on here? You're on my side, remember?"

"You're out of control, killing people."

"They aren't people! Whether you understand this or not, I'm going to wait here until dawn and then search the house. She has to come home before it gets light. When she does, I'm going to cut her head off and this will be over."

"Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out. This isn't your job." Before his partner could speak again, Wade pulled the 9mm Beretta from the back of his jeans and pointed it.

Dom's eyes widened. "You won't kill me."

"No, but I'll blow a hole in your leg and then call an ambulance. By the time the paramedics get here, I'll be long gone."

"Why are you…?"

Wade pointed the gun straight at Dominick's thigh. The burly man stepped back toward the door, his blue eyes narrowing.

"You don't want to take me on. You'll lose."

"Just get out," Wade repeated.

Dominick slipped out the front door, and Wade bolted it behind him.

I pushed myself up from Maggie's bedroom floor, removing my thoughts from Wade's, seeing through my own eyes again, and stumbled downstairs to the foyer. William's body was already turning to ash, the tiny cracks in his flesh spreading.

Wade dashed about, checking window bolts. "Did you see? Did you hear all that?"

"Yes," I whispered tiredly. "Through you."

"We've got to run. He's right. I can't take him on. I wouldn't even know how."

Sinking to my knees, I fingered William's smoking jacket. I couldn't bring myself to look at his severed head… across the floor. "It doesn't matter now," I whispered.

"Get up! Change your clothes."

"Dominick is nothing now."

"Twenty minutes ago you were begging me to get him off your back."

"Julian's coming."

Wade froze. "What?"

"You and I felt psychic waves only because we were so close. Julian made William. I think even halfway across the world… he felt it. He'll be coming."

"That doesn't change what's happening right now!" he spat. "We've got to get out of here."

"He'll find us."

"I just aimed a gun at my best friend for you!"

He had, hadn't he? I'd dragged him down into moral hell and now had probably killed him. No one could stop Julian.

"Where should we go?" I asked.

"Anywhere away from here," he said. "It'll be light soon, so catching a plane is out. You go upstairs and change clothes. We'll have to hole up in a motel for a day or two and figure something out." He knelt down next to me. "I don't mean to sound like this. I know what William was to you."

People say those words all the time-almost a cliche. But Wade really did know.

My torn, bloody tank hung at an odd angle over one shoulder. Knowing he was right about changing clothes, I stumbled back up to Maggie's room. Would it be the last time? Would her lovely room pass out of my life as she had?

Numbly, I got undressed and then pulled on a clean pair of jeans, and a long, oversized T-shirt. Then I found a knee-length wool coat, black but thin and lightweight.

A drawer slammed downstairs. I heard Wade's feet shuffling about rapidly, as if he was in a hurry. After saying good-bye to Maggie's room, her creation, for the last time, I went back down to find my companion stuffing a small box inside his sweatshirt.

"What's that?"

"Nothing. I'll show you later," he said.

Ashes floated up from William's body, like dandelions gone to seed.

I woke up the following night with lingering memories of Wade carrying me into a hotel room as the sun came up. What happened? Bits and pieces of memory floated back like a chill wind. William's death, Dominick's threats, Julian's inevitable arrival. Black world.

Wade had become more than a simple asset. My behavior the previous night embarrassed me beyond words. He'd taken over and protected me, dragged me out of Maggie's house, and checked us into a hotel.

Now I was lying in a large bed. I sat up and looked around. The room had decent decor-not that I normally cared about such things-in soft blues and grays, with a cedar wardrobe closet. Someone had covered the windows with thick blankets. Wade was sleeping in a chair a few feet away from me, his head lolling back, blond hair in a mess, the Beretta in his lap. He still wore his jeans and the faded Colorado State sweatshirt.

"Wade?"

His eyes clicked open. "Yeah?"

"Where are we?"

"Kirkland, northeast of Seattle."

"Did you hide the car?"

"Yeah."

We'd taken a taxi to a twenty-four-hour Hertz office, and then Wade rented a Toyota Prius. I didn't like the idea of using a credit card-in case Dom found a way to track us-but Wade assured me that his partner no longer had any form of police access. And we didn't have a choice. I can remember not too many years ago being able to pay for almost anything in cash… but not anymore.

By the time he got us to the hotel, I was falling dormant and no longer cared how he paid for the room.

Now he just sat staring into empty space.

"This is a nice room," I said.

"You like it? It's my first hideout."

"I should get out of here. When Julian finds us, he'll kill you."

"What?" His expression turned incredulous. "You're just going to leave? After last night, after everything that's happened, you're going to say ‘thanks' and take off?"

"What do you want? If you stay with me, you'll die. If Dominick doesn't kill you, Julian will. No matter what you've seen of me so far, I'm faster than you, I'm probably stronger, and I know how to disappear. I also know how to make people help me."

"Like me?"

"You're different, and you know it."