Kate knew the streets of East Liberty. She would be the first to suggest that they were no place for a woman, particularly a woman with one arm useless, alone. Yet she walked among the shadows without fear and without molestation, protected by what-she did not know. Dawn came and went, the November sun playing hide and seek with clouds promising either snow or rain.

She walked, releasing herself to her precognition. This power that grew within her had its own strength. If she yielded to it, it would lead her, guide her to the proper path. The sun faltered, lost its battle with the clouds and a dreary darkness descended. Kate paid it no heed.

First thing was to get off the street. She needed a quiet place, someplace where she could be alone and people wouldn't interrupt her. She thought about calling Anne Ramsey, decided against it. If she called anyone, they'd only start keeping tabs on her, maybe even place her in protective custody, and she couldn't afford that. She needed to be free to act.

Her apartment was out, it would be crawling with Feds and cops. It was too cold to stay outside on a park bench. A library or church would be private, but she'd attract attention if she made any noise. She thought about the hotel room, but couldn't bear the thought of being where she and Josh had made love, not when she needed to focus on Blake.

Tony's place seemed her best option. Odds were that he wouldn't be home, not with everything that went down last night. She didn't have cab fare, but two buses and a transfer would get her close.

She got caught in the morning commute. It was hard to breathe once aboard the crowded, overheated PATA bus. During the first leg of her journey she had to stand, along with half a dozen other passengers. She watched as an obviously pregnant woman struggled up the bus stairs and down the aisle. A middle-aged woman gave up her seat while the male commuters resolutely hid themselves behind their Wall Street Journals.

After changing buses, she was able to get a window seat. She leaned her head against the cold glass, fighting against sleep, but the heat and motion of the bus were hypnotic. Kate didn't realize how tired she was until the bus came to an abrupt stop and she banged her head against the metal rail of the seat in front of her. She woke with a start and looked around. No one paid her any attention-the anonymity of public transportation.

Kate stood in the aisle for the remainder of the trip until the bus finally deposited her a block away from Tony's building. As she walked, inhaling the bracing cold air and leaning against the wind off the water, she noticed the low hanging clouds. Dark clouds, promising rain.

She got out her keys, but rang the bell first on the off chance that Tony was home. To her surprise, his voice came over the intercom, scratchy and blurred as if she had woken him.

"It's Kate." She'd thought for certain he'd be down at the paper and now wasn't sure what to say. "Can I come in?"

"Oh." There was a long pause. Then the door lock clicked open.

Kate slowly walked up the stairs, puzzled by his response-just "oh"? That wasn't like Tony. She tried to think back to last night. Had she done something to offend him? He hadn't sounded angry, merely weary-justifiably so after everything that had happened. Still it nagged at her as she knocked on his door. He'd gotten a great story, first hand account, true front-page material, he should be pumped with adrenalin. She'd seen him work nonstop for days without giving in to exhaustion. What was going on?

He didn't give her any quick answers. Tony opened the door and turned away before she was even through it. He was dressed in sweatpants, a thermal undershirt and ragged old flannel robe. There were dark circles under his eyes and a wariness about him that she'd never seen before. He didn't meet her gaze but sat at the glass topped dining table, gesturing limply to a seat for her. She slid into the seat and watched him for a moment in silence.

"I wasn't expecting you-at least not yet," he mumbled, running a hand though his hair and tugging at it with his fingers.

He raised his head, almost but not quite meeting her gaze, his hair standing on end and a vulnerable look to him that Kate found disconcerting. This wasn't Tony, he'd never backed down from a fight in his life. He was acting as if he'd given in-but to what?

"Tony, what's happened?" She placed a hand over his. The warmth from their skin made twin impressions echoing each other on the glass tabletop.

"I'm sorry, Kate. TV and radio were already running with it, so the editor overruled me. Took the story away, it was out of my hands. I actually threatened to quit, but they saw through my bluff."

"Did something happen that I don't know about?"

"Isn't that why you came? I figured you saw it on one of the morning shows. Turner made his statement."

"So what? It was all unsubstantiated, rumors and his own vile imagination. I don't see how any responsible journalist could call it a story."

"We underestimated him. A lot is still only innuendo, but between what Internal Affairs and my brethren have dug up, well, you'd better see for yourself. Here, I taped some of the early reports." He reached for a remote control and turned on the TV and VCR across the room.

A pert blonde reporter standing in front of Kate's station house was speaking. "In a thrilling new twist to the story that has gripped our city, a new victim was added last night to the serial killer stalking Pittsburgh's finest. This victim was not a police officer, however, but rather a surgeon at Three Rivers Medical Center, Dr. Joshua Lightner. He is currently listed in serious condition at Three Rivers.

"Although officials refused to comment on the reason behind Dr. Lightner's attack, they did confirm it was the work of the same person who has already killed three Pittsburgh police officers and critically wounded a fourth. Of note, Dr. Lightner was the trauma surgeon who saved the life of one of the first victims, Officer Katherine O'Hern."

The scene shifted from the reporter back to the anchorwoman at the newsdesk. "In related news," she announced cheerfully, "Action 11 news has discovered that Officer O'Hern has been suspended from the force pending an investigation. Officials refused to comment on the nature of the charges against the policewoman who was been hailed as a heroine in her fight to survive a near fatal shooting. Here with more on this breaking story is Tom Yardley."

The background changed to a tree-lined street, then focused on a small ranch house. A tall reporter in a trench coat stood at the sidewalk. "Thank you, Carol. This is Tom Yardley live from Mt. Washington. A normal house in a normal neighborhood, but what lurks behind these closed doors? Our investigators have discovered that here, at the home of now-deceased police officer Robert Hansen, there was more going on than meets the eye. In fact, witnesses have identified that Officer Hansen's partner, Katherine O'Hern, was a frequent overnight visitor here during times when his wife was out of town visiting relatives.

"Additional sources near to the police department have speculated that indeed this reign of terror haunting Pittsburgh's finest may be the product of an all too ordinary love triangle between O'Hern, Hansen and the unknown killer. They have also alluded to the possibility that O'Hern's immediate superior, Sergeant Conrad, was targeted because he was aware of the affair and was about to discipline the involved parties."

The anchorwoman leaned forward in excitement and the screen was split between her and Yardley. "Is the thought that somehow Katherine O'Hern is responsible for these deaths and the attack on her own doctor?"

"Unknown at this time, Janice, but the investigation is proceeding," he replied with a smug smile.

Carol placed her hands in front of her and rustled papers. "Thank you Tom. Channel 11 will keep you updated with any further progress. Now turning to sports-"

Tony clicked it off. "There's more of the same on the other channels, but you got the gist of it."

Kate was wordless. How could they tear her life apart with insinuations and absolutely no facts whatsoever? What would Jenn be thinking? How far would the reporters go to find the truth?

"I know Turner arranged the leak," Tony said, "but he was slick. Did you notice all the qualifiers? A lawyer had a look at that copy before it went on the air, you can bet on that. Kate? You look really pale, here." He went to the cabinet and poured her a drink. She took a sip, the whiskey burning its way down her suddenly dry throat.

"Do they have any idea how many people's lives they've destroyed with that sixty-second story?"

"Welcome to my world. News is news-you have to look past the human factor, be objective."

She stared at him as if he were a stranger from another planet. "How can you be objective when you have no facts?"

"Let's not have this conversation now," he said. "I think we both need to get some sleep before we say something that we'll regret."

"You believe that crap?" she flared. "You think I slept with Rob?"

He sighed and ran his fingers over the two-day stubble of his beard. "All I know is that they wouldn't say they had witnesses if they couldn't produce them-"

"Great, go ahead and lynch me just like the rest of your journalist friends did!"

"I'm not accusing you of anything."

"You don't have to. Everyone with a TV, radio or who can read a newspaper will become my judge and jury, all based on innuendoes and speculations about something that is none of their damn business in the first place." She slammed her hand on the table top, sending the tumbler skittering. "I can't believe this," she muttered, standing up, pacing. "Like I don't have enough with Blake still out there."

Tony watched her in silence. After two laps, she collapsed onto the couch. "I wasn't having an affair with Rob."

Tony moved to sit beside her. "What did happen?"

"After Caroline was born, Jenn went through post-partum depression. I guess it makes some women psychotic. I don't know, but Jenn had it bad. The baby was about six weeks old when Rob came home one night and found the gas on, but the pilot light off. Jenn was sitting in the kitchen with the baby and Patrick, he was three then, and she had this old Zippo and she's staring at it and flicking it. They were lucky they didn't all get blown up.

"She was in Western Psych for a couple of months. You can't afford a live-in babysitter on a patrolman's salary. So I moved in and watched the kids while Rob pulled a moonlighting job to pay for the sitter to watch them when we were on duty and to cover the hospital bills."

"That's it?"

She nodded. "It would've killed Rob if he thought anyone found out about what happened to Jenn. She's fine now."

She was silent for a moment, considering her options. If only she had told Turner all of the truth, he never would have let the story leak, would have shielded Jenn. Instead, he probably thought he was practicing his own form of tough love, exposing the truth for all to see while also punishing Kate and Rob. Leaving poor Jenn caught in the middle.

Tony looked at her, the old warmth back in his eyes. "You're not going to tell them the truth, are you?"

"No." She gave him a wan smile. "In fact, let them waste some time and money on the chase. Could you start a rumor about Rob and I being seen in some out of the way places, I don't know, the Poconos or Niagara Falls or whatever? Anything to get them out of Rob's neighborhood and away from Jenn."

"I can, but are you sure you want me to? This kind of thing is liable to backfire on you."

She shrugged. "What have I got to lose?"

CHAPTER 42.

Josh awoke to the scent of jasmine. Kate, where was Kate? He opened his eyes, the room was empty.

He strained, tried to remember the blurry morning. White-coated ghosts on rounds, poking and prodding at him, testing reflexes and pupillary responses, examining his hands. His hands. He lifted the bandaged appendages before his eyes, fearful of what may lay beneath the layers of gauze. They were quietly throbbing in tune with his headache.

He thought of Kate asking what he would do if he could no longer be a surgeon, remembered her warning that Blake would come for him. She'd seen him die, more than once, in her visions. Would Blake be back to finish what he began? Worse, was he going after Kate next?

Josh swallowed hard against the knot of fear tightening his throat. Kate's words of comfort echoed in his mind, the only color in the grey, hazy world he had woken to. Everything wasn't going to be all right, and there was nothing he could do about it. Kate was still out there somewhere and sooner or later she'd be in Blake's sights.

For the first time in his life, Josh felt powerless.

He finally saw his hands later, during a hydrotherapy session. The pain was intense, but he knew that was a good sign, meant the nerve endings were intact. Mainly he felt embarrassed. Nobody treated him like a patient, but they didn't treat him like a doctor either. Instead they seemed uncomfortable and often wouldn't look down to meet his eyes as he was pushed in a wheelchair through the hallways.

The most painful moment came when the orderly wheeled him around a corner past the nursing station, and he came face to face with his own team making rounds on his patients-patients that he no longer knew anything about since he hadn't received report on them since Friday. They were talking and moving quickly in and out of each room, a medical student following them with a chart rack, writing notes and orders on each patient, Adams, the junior resident, and the intern carrying supplies for dressing changes as his senior resident guided them. Josh watched them, and couldn't help but smile when the senior asked a question that no one had the answer to, the same question he had pimped her on when they had scrubbed together on Thursday.

Today was only Monday and already he was obsolete. Somehow that knowledge hurt him more than the pain in his hands or his head.

Tony offered her the bed, but Kate refused. Finally they flipped for it and Kate lost. It felt good, warm and familiar, being back in Tony's big waterbed. Even with the door shut, his snores echoed from the living room. Poor Tony, he sounded as if he was coming down with a cold. Something about him always made Kate feel maternal, just as something else about him always made her feel as if they were in constant competition-for what she had never figured out. Control, maybe.

Right now she felt more out of control than ever. Because of her Josh was injured, lying in a hospital bed. Not to mention the FBI and police watching her apartment, Blake trying to hurt everyone dear to her, reporters destroying her reputation, this blessed shoulder throbbing like hell, and now she was miles past exhaustion but unable to shift her brain out of overdrive.

Kaleidoscope images shifted through Kate's brain: Josh, Blake, Rob, Conrad, Turner, Ramsey, Carter, Tony, Josh again.

She finally fell asleep, a fitful, sweaty, turbulent sleep haunted with nameless and faceless demons. In her dreams she ran for her life.

It seemed all that she could do in the ashen landscape that closed in on her. Her feet splashed through puddles; water dripped from the roof of the tunnel she was trapped inside. Footsteps echoed behind her. The air was thick with the sickly-sweet odor of death. The water turned into blood when it hit her.

A shot ran out. She stumbled, tripped over a body. Rob. His face was gone, but still a gurgling noise came from him as he reached a bloody hand, grabbing her ankle. Kate pulled away, slipped in the river of blood and got to her feet, running once more.

The monster wasn't far behind. His footsteps grew louder, thudding into her brain. She saw a light up ahead, felt a surge of hope. Did it lead to the house of her dreams? The one filled with warmth and love? She pushed herself harder, raced toward the light.

A man's figure was silhouetted in it. She grew closer, giddy with the realization that she was going to make it to safety. Then he turned.

Kate skidded to a stop. It was Josh, hideously burned, holding his hands out to her in supplication. Behind her, the monster laughed, his footsteps slowed as if he knew there was no longer any need to rush.

Kate swallowed hard, turned to protect Josh and face the evil. The sewer was filled by a shadow that devoured all light, all warmth, all hope. She had no choice but to stand. To stay and fight as best she could with no weapons other than her hands, her heart, her soul.

She clenched her hands into fists and held them up before her. They seemed frightfully tiny against the darkness. She planted her feet and shouted, a sound made of part fear, part anguish, part battle cry.

She stood firm as the darkness advanced.

CHAPTER 43.

Kate awoke to the sound of thunder.

A gust of wind blew a cascade of rain against the window. The sky was dark, but that didn't mean anything in this town, especially not in November. She looked at the bedside clock, three in the afternoon.

She debated going back to sleep. She was still exhausted, almost as if she hadn't slept at all. Then she remembered the dream and decided against it.

Her clothes lay in a pile at the foot of the bed. She wrinkled her nose at them and rummaged through Tony's dresser until she found a flannel shirt and pair of sweatpants.

His bathroom wasn't as luxuriously appointed as Josh's, but it was much better than the old clawfoot tub and hand-held shower Kate had in her apartment. Tony's shower was larger than standard with a wide shelf convenient for storage, shaving legs or making love, depending on your needs at the moment. She turned the water up as hot as she could stand it, trying to drive away the chill her nightmare had brought.

She wondered if the demon in her dream was Blake or a more primal evil.

The shower disappeared, and she was in Josh's kitchen, down on her knees, cleaning blood from his floor. Blake was there, standing over her. She reached for her gun, but he was faster. The shot slammed into her. She felt herself sink down into that black void where she had traveled once before and this time Kate knew she would not return.

The vision faded. Shivering in the hot water, she sat down on the ledge, dropped her head between her legs, fighting the nausea that shook her. She forced herself to breathe calmly, slowly, but it was several moments before she had the strength to stand.

She emerged from the shower stall. The bathroom mirrors were fogged over, and a harsh rain beat against the window. Before she could take more than two steps the vision hit her once more.

Again she was at Josh's, this time she and Carter were entering, their weapons drawn. Blake was waiting for them, she watched as he shot Carter, then turned and fired on her. She shot Blake and went down, blackness swarming over her before she could see if she had killed him.

Kate grabbed onto the counter in an attempt to remain upright. Chills and nausea racked her, drenching her in a cold sweat. She raised her eyes. The only reflection she could see in the misty mirror was the image of a wraith. She was going to die. After everything she'd been through, Blake was still going to kill her. Somehow she felt more angry than anything else.

Why give her a second chance if it was going to be wasted? Why allow her to meet Josh, fall in love with him-Kate stopped herself.

Her second chance hadn't been wasted, had it? Without it she would never have met Josh, have the chance to feel his arms around her, the warmth of his gaze, the way he made her catch her breath when he smiled at her. She had waited all her life for a man like him, to feel like this-only she had to die before it could happen.

How could she ever repay this wonderful gift that she'd been granted? She'd had a chance not only to meet Josh, but to see her friends and family again-so much more than Rob had. She was certain Jenn would give anything to have Rob back for a few hours, a few moments.

Even the visions that threatened to devour her, that tore at her soul, even those were a gift. Without them Josh would be dead now.

Of course, if Josh hadn't saved her, then he wouldn't have been in danger to begin with. She ran her fingers through her wet hair, shook her head. It was all too confusing.

Maybe the only way she could save Josh from Blake was to sacrifice herself. If so, it would be on her own terms. After she put things right in her life.

Glad to have a plan of action, however tenuous it may be, Kate wiped the mirror with a towel and made a face at herself, sticking her tongue out at the demons that hid in the fog.

She dressed, then called the vet and checked on Hershey. There was no permanent damage, the doctor assured her, but Hershey would need to stay there another day.

She collected her shoes and socks from the bedroom radiator where they had dried. Her Beretta lay on top of the dresser, and she reached for it, but was overcome with a wave of terror and nausea as she saw herself in Josh's kitchen reaching for the gun and feeling the blast of Blake's bullet slam into her. She jerked her hand away from the Beretta and the feeling passed.