The wind chimes clashed and clattered, sounding the alarm. But Louise Fuller knew that the music was not powerful enough to stop the demon from entering her house. It came and went as it pleased. It had been months since the last visit. Every time it went away, she dared to hope that it would not come back. But it was here now. She could sense its presence.

She stopped in the center of the darkened basement and swung the beam of her flashlight toward the top of the stairs. She could hear the demon coming down the hall.

The lights had gone out a few minutes earlier. She had come downstairs to check the electrical panel, but now she knew that the demon had tricked her. The only question was why had it gone to the trouble of luring her down here into the darkness tonight?

The demon had controlled her for years. She was its slave and they both knew it. The demon laughed at her puny attempts to protect herself. In the end she always did its bidding. She would do it again tonight.

Why drive her down here into the basement?

The footsteps in the hall were closer now. The chimes rattled and thrashed in a rising crescendo. The music was frantic, desperate, ominous. Hopeless.

The demon appeared at the top of the stairs, a dark shadow silhouetted against the weak glow of the emergency nightlight that illuminated the hallway.

“Hello, Louise,” the demon said. “I have to tell you that those chimes of yours have become really irritating. Good to know you won’t be making any more.”

The demon raised one hand. Louise felt a terrible chill, as though her heart was freezing in her chest.

Now she knew why the demon had forced her into the basement. In this place there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. She was trapped.

She had always known that one day the demon would kill her. Tonight was the night. A part of her welcomed the promise of release. At last the torment would end.

But a strange, unfamiliar anger surfaced out of the depths.

She would be avenged. The other witch was in town, and she had brought a man of power with her. Sooner or later they would come around, wanting to ask questions about what had happened to Evelyn and the others.

Louise knew that she would be dead when the other witch arrived, but that was not a problem. Gwendolyn Frazier could talk to ghosts.

Judson contemplated the shadowed ceiling, one arm folded behind his head, the other wrapped around Gwen’s soft, sleek body. She was snuggled against him, her head nestled on his shoulder. Their bodies were still damp from the heat and energy that had gone into the lovemaking. The scent in the air was primal. He felt good, really good—satisfied in every conceivable way that a man could be satisfied.

“Okay, that was different,” Gwen said.

She sounded so bemused—so serious—that he laughed, startling both of them. She levered herself up on one elbow and glared down at him.

“You think there’s something amusing going on here?” she asked.

“No, absolutely not,” he said, sobering fast.

“Yes, you do. I can tell.”

He threaded his fingers through her tangled hair. The tendrils felt like strands of silk. In the darkened room, her witchy eyes smoldered.

“Well, maybe a little,” he conceded. “But I liked hearing you scream.”

“I didn’t scream.”

He smiled, savoring the memories.

“You screamed,” he said. “If I hadn’t muffled the noise, you would have awakened the whole damn inn.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you might have a problem with arrogance?” she asked.

“Just stating the facts, ma’am.”

“I wasn’t expecting what happened,” she admitted. She flushed. “I was taken by surprise. That’s all.”

“Not me. I knew we would be good together.”

“Hmm.”

A trickle of unease feathered his senses. He cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me it wasn’t that good for you? Because I will be happy to try again.”

“No, no, that’s okay.”

“Okay?” He sat up. “It was just okay?”

“It was more like a first.”

“First what? First time with another strong talent?”

“That, too. But what I meant was that it was the first time I’ve ever had a climax that did not involve a small home appliance.”

Relief, delight and an exultant sense of euphoria surged through him. He laughed and flopped back down on the pillows. He dragged her down across his chest.

“You had me worried there for a while, Dream Eyes,” he said. “Glad I could be of service.”

“That is a terribly tacky thing to say.” She punched him lightly on the arm.

“Ouch. What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, but that definitely wasn’t it.”

He framed her face with both hands. “How about ‘That was the best it’s ever been for me, and I will remember this night for the rest of my life’?”

She looked dubious. “Would it be the truth?”

“It would be the truth.”

Her soft mouth curved in a wry smile. “Okay, even if it’s not the truth, it’s a lot better than ‘Glad I could be of service.’”

“I’ll remember that. Tell me about the first guy you sent screaming into the night.”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Are you sure you want to hear about my boring past life experiences?”

“I want to know everything about you.”

“Well, it wasn’t at night, and there were two of them the first time.”

“What the hell? Two?”

“I was thirteen,” she said quietly. “I had just arrived at Summerlight. I was alone and vulnerable because I hadn’t connected with Nick and Abby yet. Two of the older boys cornered me outside a storage room and dragged me inside.”

“Bastards.” Rage ripped through him.

“I was terrified and I was furious and I was desperate. I fought with everything I had, and I discovered that I had more weapons than I knew I possessed.”

“You used your talent to defend yourself?”

“It was a shock to all three of us, believe me,” she said. “My talent was still developing, and I was still learning to cope with it. I honestly didn’t know what I could do until I realized that one of the creeps was screaming in panic and looking at me as if he was seeing a monster. I had unintentionally put him into a dream trance—a waking nightmare.”

“You can do that?”

“Sure. It requires physical contact, of course. But I use my ability to put my therapy clients into a light trance all the time. It’s how I work. I can make the experience very . . . unpleasant if I want.”

“What happened that day when you were attacked at the school?” he asked.

“The first creep freaked. His reaction caused his friend to freak, too. They both let go of me as if they’d been scalded and turned to run. But when they opened the door, they ran straight into Nick, who had sensed something bad was going down and decided to investigate.”

“This is Nick Sawyer, the friend you’ve mentioned?”

“Right.” She smiled. “He claims that he was born to be a really good cat burglar. He can see in the dark better than most people can see in daylight. And I’m pretty sure he’s never found a lock he couldn’t get through. He claims that if it hadn’t been for Abby and me, he probably would have pursued a career as a jewel thief. We talked him into going into the hot books business—antiquarian books with a paranormal provenance—instead.”

“What did Sawyer do to the two sociopaths who tried to assault you?”

“Nick caught the first guy coming out of the storage room and slammed him into a wall with such force that the jerk’s nose was broken. Nick sent the second one down the gym stairs. The result was a broken wrist and some cracked ribs.”

“Did the bastards complain?”

“Sure, but the authorities didn’t take them seriously. They were known bullies, and Nick was smaller and lighter. He looks more like a professional dancer than a street fighter. At any rate, from that day on, I was a member of Nick and Abby’s crew. The three of us stuck together until we graduated. We’re still family.”