From: [email protected] To: [email protected] Time: 12:45 P.M.

Re: Where are you?

Sam, I am so, so sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't even know if you should forgive me. And I wish I could thank you in person for trying to save me last night, but I don't know where you are. And I'm not sure you're totally out of danger yet, Sam. So you NEED to get in touch with me. Please. A few sentences will do, but you need to make contact. I need to know that you're okay.

-Gaia

TOM.

I never realized the full extent of my failure as a father until I arrived at the Mercer Street apartment. I went there praying that Gaia would meet me. I left knowing she never would.

All my years of neglect were on stark display: in the containers of half-eaten junk food, the empty doughnut boxes, the sink filled with unwashed dishes. With the stench of rancid garbage and streaks of dirt over every surface, the apartment felt more like a cage than a home: a filthy den not fit for humans. And Gaia was the animal who had been left alone. It didn't just break my heart. It destroyed it.

I'd spent so much time teaching Gaia how to survive and how to protect herself. But it seems that she'd never learned to take care of herself. To eat properly. To clean up after herself. To take out the garbage. I taught her everything I know, but I left out the truly important lessons. Those her mother could have taught her. It was my responsibility to pick up where Katia left off, and I did not.

Yet I still continue to ask for Gaia's forgiveness. What right do I have? None. But I know my daughter's heart. I know that it is big enough and n.o.ble enough to forgive me. I have to believe that. Because if she can't forgive me, then I can't protect her. Then we've both lost. She needs to understand that. But it may be too late. I may be asking for more than she can give now.

I waited for her in that h.e.l.lish apartment for an hour. With George already staking out the Chelsea loft, I finally left with no other choice but to stake out Ed's building and wait. Wait for Loki to make a move. Wait for Gaia to appear. I'd never imagined it could get this bad. If my brother's goal was to rob me of all the love in my life, then it seems he has finally succeeded. I wish I could tell him that. Maybe if he knew, he'd put a stop to all this.

Maybe I should stop lying to myself.

wave of fury

Maybe he was already dead, and this was the afterlife-a freakish dream world where everybody morphed into the person they always should have been.

"PLEASE... HELP... ME... Gaia... Gaia."

Sterile Dagger The sound of Sam Moon's voice provided Loki with a surprising, almost childlike pleasure. He felt renewed confidence. It was a sweet breath of relief amidst the string of failures this travesty of an operation had become, and all the more pleasant because he'd expected the task to be drudgery. But advances in technology-whether audio, scientific, or military- never ceased to thrill him. n.o.body but Loki truly understood how the exploitation of technological advancement was the key to power. Well, except men like Bill Gates, perhaps. But Loki had taken that philosophy to a far more sublime level.

"Again," he commanded, tempering his smile. "Let me hear it again."

The high-pitched squeal of a voice on rewind echoed through the windowless Ca.n.a.l Street sound studio. The engineer's gnarled fingers deftly made adjustments on the computer's mixing program. Then he pressed "play." Once again, Sam Moon's voice echoed through the ma.s.sive black speakers hanging down from all four walls.

"So...sorry... Gaia."

Loki frowned. The words sounded stilted and much too far apart. But before he could open his mouth, the engineer clicked his mouth and turned a few of the faders on the ma.s.sive soundboard.

"I'm so sorry, Gaia."

Ah, perfect, Loki thought. Smooth as silk. Completely organic. As if Moon were sitting in the room with them, begging Loki for his life. All those hours of visual and audio surveillance were finally paying off. And even though the plans had nearly been ruined, Loki was almost glad he had been forced to change them. The new plan was so superior: the kind of irresistible psychological snare that would lure even the most strong-willed human being out of hiding. It was pure, a sterile dagger to cut straight to Gaia's heart. And then Loki would take that heart and make it his own.

"Let's just hear that last part again," Loki requested. He almost felt like rewarding this fat, bearded slob in some way. The man had far exceeded his expectations-both in professionalism and speed.

"... please," Sam was murmuring.

"Hmm," Loki mused. He leaned back in the plush leather chair. "We must have a better 'please.' Something a little more pathetic..."

The engineer scrolled through a list of audio files on the computer, then clicked the mouse again.

"Please!" Sam's voice was suddenly urgent, whiny. Groveling.

"That's the one," Loki said, nodding with satisfaction. "Upload and attach it. I have to thank you. You truly lived up to your reputation."

"Thank you sir," the engineer replied humbly, turning to the computer.

Loki reached for the revolver in his suit jacket. But then he hesitated. Instead, he patted the engineer on the back. Yes, he might even have to make this man a full-time employee. He could actually deliver on a promise-a trait that was becoming increasingly rare among the clods who worked for him. To kill him now would be a needless waste. And Loki had wasted plenty already. Better to invest in skill than ensure silence.

On a case-by-case basis, of course.

GAIA STARED DOWN AT THE STREET from Ed's bedroom window. A bitter taste rose in her throat as her eyes zeroed in on three black sedans parked outside the apartment.

A Taste "That one... that one, and that one," she said coldly, pointing them out. "They're staking the place out."

"How do you know?" Ed whispered over her shoulder.

"I just know," Gaia replied matter-of-factly. Yes, it was another useless skill pa.s.sed on to her by her father: the ability to spot vehicles that didn't quite fit. "They think you'll lead them to me. If they don't already know I'm here."

"I don't understand," Ed said. "How could they-"

"My father led them to you," she interrupted. Her gaze remained fixed to the tinted windows of the car in front. "Thanks, Dad," she added, with bitter sarcasm. "They might even work for him. I don't really give a s.h.i.t anymore."

Ed tapped her lightly on the arm. "Gaia? Can you come back, please? You sound like a robot and it's freaking me out. Do not give up here, okay? We'll figure something out, I swear."

Gaia didn't bother to reply. She knew that if she did, she'd only freak Ed out even more. Because there was no way they could possibly figure something out. They were trapped. Ambushed. Anybody with even the slightest knowledge of military tactics or history knew that ninety-nine out of a hundred ambushes ended in death for the ambushed. So there really was no point in trying to plot a daring escape. She could almost hear her own pulse slowing down. Her spirits were flatlining. She'd given up.

"What about the service entrance?" Ed asked, sounding hopeful. Well, either hopeful or just plain desperate. "It leads to an alley out back that'll take us right to First Avenue."

She shook her head. "That would be the first place they would expect. There are guys stationed there already. I'm sure of it."

"Okay, okay," Ed replied, "but there has to be-"

A melodic ding-dong from the computer cut him off.

"What was that?" Gaia asked, glancing at the screen. It sounded like a doorbell.

"I got an e-mail," Ed mumbled. His eyes remained grimly and firmly fixed to the street below. "It's nothing. Ignore it. It's probably my parents, writing to tell me that they're going horseback riding with Blane or something.... "

But Gaia couldn't ignore it. A realization struck her: She'd forgotten to log off. Which meant the message was for her.

"Sam," she murmured out loud. Quick as a flash, she bolted to the desk chair. Her eyes widened. Yes! She clicked on the new e-mail-and when she saw the author's name on the screen, it was a shot of pure adrenaline, kick-starting her heart. Sam wrote back. Which meant he was okay. The one concern that had been haunting her since the morning could finally be put to rest. A shaky sigh escaped her lips. Now she could refocus. Now she could move on.

She clicked open the message.

From: [email protected] To: Time: 3:45 P.M.

Re: Where are you?

h.e.l.lo, Gaia. This is not Sam. But there is a message from Sam attached.

WARNING: The attached file contains a scene of a violent and upsetting nature. You will undoubtedly find the contents objectionable.

All apologies.

Attachment: poorSam.mpg Gaia bit her lip. Relief was instantly replaced by pain. It rose like smoke into her chest. So. The message was from Loki. Sam was not okay. He was not safe. And she did not want to see the attached file. Her mind had already begun to concoct endless scenes of what might appear on screen: a hanging, a lethal injection, an electrocution. But, as always, fearlessness won out.

She clicked on the attachment. A video clip began to play.

For the first few moments, the screen was black. And then she heard his voice.

Sam's voice. It sounded strained and short of breath. Pained, almost.

"Gaia... ? Gaia... I don't know if you can hear me..."

She fought the wave of fury building inside her. She had to stay calm enough to let the message finish. But there was something so strange about the way he spoke... Gaia couldn't put her finger on it. She'd never heard him sound so soulless-so cold and removed. Not even all those months ago, when he'd been kidnapped the first time, when she'd received a video much like this one. They must have tortured him.

"I'm so sorry, Gaia," he said. "But I'm in real trouble here. Real trouble."

And then an image faded into view: a stark, low-resolution clip-extremely grainy. Every movement looked more like a jumpy series of stills than a moving picture. But it was clear enough. Clear enough to make Ed gasp slightly from behind the chair. Clear enough to make Gaia cringe.

It was Sam's face.

Agony was etched into every feature, as if with a knife. In the middle of his forehead, perfectly dead center, was a bright red light no larger than a dime. A beam from a laser gun sight. Gaia held her breath. She knew there was a very distinct possibility that she was about to see Sam Moon executed on low-grade digital videotape-shot in the head in full close-up... and she didn't even blink. Where the fear should have been, there was nothing but focused rage, tingling energy.

The camera began to pull out. Gaia saw that she Sam's face was being filmed through a window. That was why the quality of the image was so poor. Whoever was responsible for the footage must have been standing outside the building where Sam was being held-or maybe in a building across the street. And there was someone behind Sam, as well. Josh. Gaia's breathing quickened. Her hands clenched into fists. The son of a b.i.t.c.h had Sam's arms pinned behind his back. With his free hand, Josh gripped the back of Sam's neck-forcing him to stare straight into the barrel of the unseen gun that was trained on his skull.

This is videotape, Gaia reminded herself. These events have already taken place. She could not step into the screen and crack Josh's skull. She could not sprint to wherever the h.e.l.l Sam was and break the door down.

All she could do was watch.

"They just want to talk to you, Gaia," Sam croaked in that haunting, inhuman voice. "They just want you to come to them. And then they'll let me out of this.... "

Gaia's fists trembled. Images of what she would do to Josh flooded her brain. She should have killed him when she had the chance. It had been dumb to leave him in the stairwell like that. Childish. Striking him from the face of the earth wouldn't have troubled her conscience. Not for an instant. She swore to herself she wouldn't make that mistake again. She couldn't live with the regret.

"I'm so sorry," Sam continued. "I thought I was out of this, but I was wrong. I need you. Please help me, Gaia. Please."

Again, Gaia cringed. That last word... it stung more than anything else in the message. The sound was so hopeless. So scared. So unlike she'd ever heard him before. For one very brief moment, her throat tightened, and tears began to well in her eyes. But then the anger rushed back with twice the intensity. It was like a magical healing potion throughout her entire body. She would help him. Oh, yes. She would help him and herself in the process.

The video faded to black. A series of short sentences flashed on the screen.

DeJ VU, ISN'T IT?.

YOU WANT HIM AND WE WANT YOU.

LET'S MAKE A TRADE.

410 WEST 27th STREET. APARTMENT #53.

SEE YOU SOON.

And then it was over. No more excruciating footage to witness. No more desperate pleas to hear. Ed's room filled with silence. Gaia nodded. The emotion was gone. All that was left inside her now was a sharp new clarity of mind. That gnawing feeling of helplessness and immobility fell away like a layer of dead skin, and she was alive again-inspired by a couple of simple truths and a clear purpose.

She couldn't hide anymore. The time for hiding was over. She had to get out of there and free Sam. She might have had a hundred questions about her own life, but saving Sam's came first. If Loki really wanted her so badly, then he could have her. She would come to him. She would get just as close as he wanted. Because it was time he got a taste of what happened to people who got too close to Gaia Moore.

ED NOW KNEW WHAT IT FELT LIKE to drown The Warm Fuzzies It was true. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself, or trying to be poetic. He didn't go for that BS. He truly was drowning. The ocean of Gaia's horrors had swallowed him. He couldn't see the surface anymore. He wasn't even sure which way was up and which was down. He only knew that he couldn't breathe, that panic was no longer something he could control. A dull, red haze filled his brain.

Once the video clip had ended, he stood stock still. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. His thoughts drifted back to the resentment he'd felt for Sam, anger that Sam was even an object of Gaia's concern. It was so pitiful. So shameful. This wasn't about who Gaia loved more. This was about life and death. Well, at this point, pretty much just death. They were all drowning: Sam, Gaia, Ed...maybe even others. Staying alive wasn't just a tenuous proposition, it was pretty much an impossibility.

"Hey...hey, Gaia," Ed stammered. "I'm starting to think that maybe we should call the cops or something-"

"And tell them what?" she snapped. She whirled around with a strange new resolve in her eyes. Her robotic tone had been replaced by something much stronger, though just as cold. He took a step back. Reality was losing its grip on the two of them; he could feel it. "Calling the cops will get Sam killed. Period. I just have to go there and face Loki. And once I face him, you'll all be free from this bulls.h.i.t. From my curse. n.o.body deserves this. Even I don't deserve this. But I have to deal with it."

Ed blinked. "Gaia, please don't be a martyr. You're not-"