fingers. She dropped it on the table, wondering if her instincts were becoming equally pliant.

Jack took an unsteady step toward her, gesturing with open palms.

"Then what are you doing? Rationalitjng your doubts?"

A Killer Smile She stared at him. Hank would always cross his arms when they argued.

But Jack's body language said something totally different. Could Hanks subconscious mind really be so adept at masking the intent behind the guise of another identity?

He stopped beside the drawing table.

"I think you're afraid to face your fears."

She bristled.

"At least I know what my fears are. You don't even know that much. And

when it comes to facing fears, you sure as hell don't know the half of

what I've faced!" Her raised voice reverberated through the small cabin,only to be overpowered by a louder noise. A heavy chunk of snow slidfrom the roof, and the rafters creaked in relief.

Jack glared out the window.

"If we keep on yelling this, we're going to start an avalanche."

Ellca saw a sudden elaent of macabre humor in his observation. She i.

Jeased a short, brittle hugh.

"I can just see the headlines.

Mountain Lovers Perish in Each Other's Arms in Deadly Avalanche. The

problem is the news paper would convenieetly neglect to meet ion our we around each other's throats."

His face darkened.

"Don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Try to change the subject with a sudden attempt humor." An awkward silence followed observation. He was right and she mew it. A meats lalrr, Jack shattered the uneasy stillness with a simple words.

"Were you and Hank ... lovers?"

Ellen sighed, fighting an unwelcome bout of Hank's repeated attempts at seduction.

"No. We made love." Suddenly a scene hind her eyes, becoming as

realistic to Ellen as any Killer Smile bona fide memories. The past and

the future blended together for a volatile moment.

Ellen lived a solitary life, ca'perieneing vicarious thrills through the. exploits of her alter ego, Tess. In the absence of her own real life, Ellen allowed herself to be eeter- rained, perhaps even distracted, by Tess's fictitious adventures. But Ellen realized Tess was only a fictional character. Good ol' Tess, who always won her man. And that man was always Jack, the-fictional Jack.

But the real Jack was slowly integrating himself into the fiction,taking over the role of the fantasy Jack, bringing a new edge of realityto what had only been harmless fantasies before.

When the dream lover spoke, Ellen and Tess both heard Jack's voice.

When Tess touched her Jack's face, she discovered the same thin scar on his jaw that the real man had. Although Tess hadn't made love to Jack

yet, when she eventually did, would she discover the same-- "Why didn't you two make love?"

EHEN stiffened.

"Isn't that a little personal?"

"Not if I'm Hank." His flat voice spoke a truth Ellen didn't want to

acknowledge. It took her several minutes to build the nerve to speak.

She'd told him so much already. Why not finish what she'd started? She took a deep breath.

"I was eighteen, impressionable, inexperienced, young.

Too young to deal with the emotional responsibilities of sex, of making

love.

"Yet you were mature enough to realitc your own limitations?"

She shrugged.

"I was innocent, not stupid. Hank wanted to change my mind. He badgered

me constantly, wanting me to make a sexual commitment to 'him, but I knew it wasn't right--not at that point in my life. Maybe somewhere deep inside I knew he wasn't the right man.

But A Killer Smile A Killer Smile Hank loved challenges and, because I

was a challenge to both him and his manhood, he thought he loved me."

Jack braced himself against the stone as he slowly sank 'down on the hearth.

He picked up the fireplace poker and began to shift the logs. "" Did you love him?"

"I thought I did for a little while."

"Until he tried to kill you?" Jack shot her a hardened glance, his fist tightening around the handle of the poker.

Ellen stared at him, discovering an expression of his she'd seen before.

She covered her frightened response with her hand and moved back until the dlawing table dug into her spine.

Jack's angry look dissolved into confusion.

"What's wrong? Why are you ..." He followed the trail her gaze burned to his hand. The poker fell to the stone hearth with a sharp clang.

"Ellen. I didn't ... I mean ... when ! said ..."

"You're left-handed."

He looked down at his empty fingers, still curled around the nonexistent

handle. Realization sank in after a few seconds.

"Hank?"

he whispered.

She nodded numbly, watching his face reflect a multi-rude of emotions.

Finally his face grew stiff with determination.

"That's it. I'm getting out of here For your sake. For your safety." He

straggled to his feet and started toward the door, pausing at thecoatrack where his newly repaired jacket hung.

"No! Don't leave, Jack." The words took Ellen by surprise, a blurtedtruth that reflected the desires of an inner woman didn't realize could exist outside of fantasy.

"Why not?" he asked, bat fling the sleeves of the coat. "Do you reallywant me to hang around here until I change back into Hank and--and killyou?" - "Jack" -- "Why don't you start calling me Hank? I need to getused to the name." He wresfied,with the boot, trying to balance him senas he pulled it on.

"Jack, please." She crossed the room in a few steps and grabbed his arm.

"Listen to me! I don't think you're Hank?"

The boot hit the floor with a loud thud, and he canght himself just ashe was about to lose balance and fall. The anguish in his face tore ather heart, releasing a flood of emotions within her: sympathy, sadness,attraction . He looked up at her with a pale face andindeterminate-colored eyes.

"Are you willing to take that chance on me, Ellen? To put your life onthe line?"

Ellen felt herself pulled toward him. She ached to relieve him of theresponsibility of the past and the future. His only obligation should bethe present.

He gripped her by the shoulders. "I said, are you willing to stake yourlife on me?"