Every instinct she had screamed at her to run. Instead, she listened to her brain.

Take it slow. No sudden moves. Big, deep breaths.

She rose from the bench, standing still to make sure her head no longer buzzed or swam. Her legs held firm. Her head was clear.

He slid his hand into his pocket. When he removed it, a folding knife flashed in the light. He snicked the blade open, smiling down at the gleaming edge.

Her voice jumped an octave. "Karl?"

"You're mine."

The words branded on the toilet lid of her bathroom flashed across her mind.

Her phone vibrated again.

He used the knife as a pointer, emphasizing each word with a shake of the wrist. "Give me your hand. It's time to go."

"Karl." She straightened her spine and used the same tone she did with her dogs when she expected them to obey. "Put that away."

Standing between her and the house, he had her bottled up at the corner of the garden. In her rollerblades, she could hardly dart around him. To reach her with the blade, all he'd have to do was lunge.

"I've watched you grow from a child into a woman," he said. "All those years, I'd find myself thinking of you. I'd wonder if wherever you were at that moment, you were thinking of me, too." His gaze raked over her. "Imagine my shock when I discovered my dad had been thinking the same thing."

She reached for her messenger bag.

"Leave it," he said. "I have everything you need. Just come."

She rolled backward around the edge of a garden bench. Toro trotted around the corner, then stopped short. Ears perked. Tail stiff.

Karl glanced at him, weighing the knife.

"Don't you touch him, Karl. I mean it."

He pressed the blade's spine against his lip, like a silencing finger, then gazed almost contemplatively at Toro. The mastiff went into a crouch, baring his teeth.

"If I'd wanted to, I could have done all kinds of things to this guy." He moved the blade back and forth through the air, slicing an imaginary target. "Maybe I still will." He smiled at the prospect.

Barking, Toro charged. Karl's knife hand flashed forward.

Without thinking, she kicked.

Everything happened at once-the dog's yelp, the crunch of her rollerblade wheels sending a shivering impact up her leg, the knife flying through the air.

Crying, Toro limped across the garden and out the gated archway, his leash dragging behind him.

Karl writhed on the grass, the knife just inches from his hand.

It had blood on the metal.

They both grabbed for it at once. But he reached it first and lunged from the ground. She swiveled out of the way.

"Come here!" he shouted.

Before he could rise, she scrambled for the wall, jumping, throwing her arms up, reaching for the top. Getting a tenuous grip, she heaved herself up, kicking her leg as high as she could.

Her rollerblade clattered against the brick. She kicked again, hooking the edge, then wrenched herself to the top.

He snapped at her with the knife just as she dropped to the other side of the wall. Landing, she felt a sharp burn on the back of her thigh. Her probing hand came away bloody.

Karl appeared at the top of the wall, gripping the knife like an ice pick.

"Don't you dare run from me," he hissed. "You're mine."

Lifting herself off the ground, she clomped across the neighboring garden, her rollerblades twisting on the grass. Twenty, maybe twenty-five feet away, a paved path beckoned. If she could only reach it, she'd pour on speed.

Every step, the pain in her leg intensified. Like it was splitting. Tearing wide open. She struggled for breath. Her lungs bursting in her chest. Behind her, Karl dropped feet-first from the wall. Landing easy. Rushing forward over the grass.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Pressing on the accelerator, Logan dialed Rylee's cell. When it went to voice mail again, he tried Harold Hearn-the last appointment she had on James Island.

"Sorry, buddy. She left a while ago. Said she had a dog in the city to walk."

Toro. He tried Rylee's phone again. Still no answer. He sent a text, then dialed Nate, leaving a message. He offered a succinct update and told the detective to get over to the Davidsons' immediately.

He found Daisy parked off Prices Alley, Karl's convertible directly behind it. Logan jumped out and rushed past their cars, brushing his hand against the hoods.

His was slightly warm. Hers was cold.

He ran down the alley, through the open gate into the David-sons' side yard and spotted her messenger bag in the garden not too far from an antique-looking bench.

"Don't you dare run from me," a voice said.

Frantically, Logan searched for the source.

"You're mine."

At the back corner of the garden, Karl Sebastian straddled the top of the wall.

Logan curled his fists and crouched into a fighting stance, ready for Karl to drop down and attack him.

But Karl never even saw him. He swung his leg over the wall, moving away from Logan, not toward him. He caught a flash of metal in Karl's hand. Then Karl dropped to the garden on the other side.

His prey was on the far side of the wall. Rylee.

Logan lunged forward, charging across space, sucking up the distance like a jet engine intake.

No thought to the movement. No consciousness even. Just an arrow racing to the target.

Kicking off from the bench, he sailed through the final yard, hooking his arms over the top of the wall. Pulling himself up.

Before he could leap down for the tackle, Karl advanced out of range, jogging forward across the garden. Moving toward Rylee, who lay sprawled on the lawn just short of a paved path. Her roller-blades must have tripped her up. She lifted one hand to ward Karl off. The other clutched her bleeding thigh.

The image of her on the ground locked in Logan's mind with the snap of a mental shutter. His whole body tensed for action.

He hit the ground lightly, bending his knees to take the impact.

Sprinting forward. Aiming low. His feet so quiet on the grass Karl never heard. Rylee saw him, though.

"You're really starting to-" Karl must have sensed a change in her. He turned just as Logan exploded into his side.

The collision jarred Logan's teeth. Swept Karl off his feet. They crashed to the ground, Logan grasping along Karl's body for the knife hand.

But Karl recovered quickly. He clawed at Logan's face with his free hand, keeping the blade just out of reach. Looking for an angle to stab.

As they crawled over the ground, muscles straining, Rylee rose in the corner of his eye, staggered backward on her injured leg.

"Get back," Logan yelled. "Get away from us."

He should have kept quiet. Karl sliced wildly, running the knife edge along Logan's forearm. A fissure of blood opened up. A terrible burn went through him. He recoiled, giving Karl a chance to struggle out from under him. To get on his feet. To go after her.

Rylee let out a scream.

Ignore the pain.

All the strength was draining out of him, but he rose to his feet. Not knowing if his arm could still pack a punch, he closed the distance.

This time Karl saw him coming. He bobbed and weaved with the knife, a wicked smile on his lips. Enjoying himself. One false move and Logan knew that blade would be buried deep inside him. Better that than letting him reach Rylee.

She teetered on the rollerblades. Logan circled to keep his body between them.

"Run," he said, but it seemed hard enough for her to keep her feet.

Karl edged closer. "She's not going anywhere. And neither are you."

"The cops are coming."

"Really?" Karl cocked his head. "I don't hear any sirens."

He smiled broader, pleased with himself, and that's when Logan struck. He took one step, then launched himself, his strong thighs propelling him.

Karl stepped back, but it was too late. Logan's hand seized his wrist just as their bodies collided, and once again they were on the ground.

Underneath him, Karl twisted, jerking the knife hand free.

The blade flashed. Logan winced, anticipating the stab.

A row of rollerblade wheels crashed down on Karl's forearm, pinning it to the grass. A rivulet of blood ran around Rylee's knee, but she kept the pressure up. Logan glanced up at her, then used all his might to roll Karl over, face down on the lawn.

He snaked his good arm around Karl's throat, then locked in the chokehold with his injured one.

The struggle grew fierce, Karl writhing to get loose. His strength seemed to grow and grow. Logan wasn't fighting just the man now, but the evil inside him. He held on with everything in him, eyes clenched shut. It took an eternity, but finally the power ebbed out of Karl. His muscles grew slack.

"He's going," Rylee said.

Karl let out a final howl of anguish. A sound of despair from a man realizing he's been cheated of his sick reward.

When Logan finally opened his eyes, the beast underneath him lay still. "He's out."

His own body felt heavy as lead. But it wasn't over. There was Rylee's wound to see to. And his own. He pulled his arm free and started to rise.

Rylee exhaled, limping a few paces away before dropping to the grass.

He took the knife from Karl's hand and knelt over her, getting a glimpse of her wound. "Are you all right?"

"He said they murdered my parents." Her eyes were glazed.

Her face colorless. "He said it was Grant. He said-"

"Shhhh." He pulled his shirt off, whipping it into a makeshift bandage. She winced as he coaxed her hands away, revealing a deep slice to the back of her leg. Bunching the shirt up more, he pressed it against the wound.

She moaned.

"I'm sorry, baby." He guided her hand to the shirt. "Try and put some pressure on that."

He undid his belt, sliding it through the loops, coiling the strap around her leg to hold the soaked shirt in place, then called 9-1-1.

"An ambulance is on its way."

She gripped his hand. "He's the one. The Robin Hood burglar. The one who tore up my apartment. He told me everything."

They both looked at Karl, now a passive lump curled against the soft grass. His skin flushed from exertion. His body rising and falling as he breathed.

"I was never so glad to see those rollerblades as when you stomped down on his knife hand."

Her hold on him grew weaker. Her lids began to droop.

"Keep your eyes open, Rylee."

She opened them, her pupils huge. "You kind of saved me just now."