"Probably. I'm tired. I haven't had any sleep in the last two nights, and we can't go any further until you get used to the idea that we're together."

"And you're just going to leave me here?"

"I'll be with you. I can maintain the scenario." He smiled faintly. "I know you so well I can do it in my sleep."

"I don't know if I want you to maintain-"

"Too tired." He yawned again. "Wake me if you have any questions. . . ."

He was asleep, she realized with indignation.

Of course he was asleep. She was asleep too. This was only another one of Silver's manipulations.

And the concept was too confusing to cope with right now.

She gazed out at the lake. It looked blue and deep and clean. She wondered if she'd be able to feel the water on her hand if she touched it. Probably. Silver was nothing if not thorough.

But she didn't want to test him. She was tired and on edge and wanted nothing more than for Silver to stay asleep so that she didn't have to deal with him as well as his damn scenario.

And, okay, at least it was a pleasant escape from reality. She could feel a soft breeze blowing her hair gently away from her temples and bringing with it the scent of spring violets. He had this dream world down to the last detail. How did he do it?

Stop worrying about Silver's talent. It existed, and she must use it as he intended to use her.

Are you listening, Silver?

No response. Maybe he really was asleep.

A little of her tension eased as she stared at him. His lips were soft and slightly parted, and his body reminded her of the boneless relaxation of a cat at rest. He didn't look nearly as intimidating as he did when he was awake.

Had he left some posthypnotic command to make her think that? she wondered suddenly.

"No." He opened his eyes. "Just got rid of the barriers. You wouldn't trust me if I messed around with anything else." He closed his eyes again. "Now will you let me sleep?"

"How did I wake you up?"

"Sharp . . . We're linked now and I can feel the sharpness. . . ."

Linked.

She felt an instinctive rejection. She didn't want to be linked to him in any way. "I didn't think it would be-I don't like it."

"Too late . . . We'll talk about it later."

Too late.

Because she could feel it too. Just a ghost of a tether, but it was there.

All right, she had asked for it. Accept it.

She forced herself to look away from him and out at the lake. Relax. Get used to it. The sooner she learned what she needed, the sooner the bond could be broken.

Open your mind. Close your eyes. Relax. Ignore that strange feeling of being joined to Silver. . . .

I'm leaving you now," Silver said.

She opened her eyes to see the sun going down over the lake and the light mellowing to soft twilight. How long had she been here? she wondered. She had drowsed and woken and drowsed again.

"Long enough." Silver smiled at her. "And now you're going to sleep deeply and wake calm and rested."

"That sounds suspiciously like a posthypnotic suggestion."

"Just a suggestion. Take it any way you want."

"You don't ever use hypnosis?" she asked skeptically.

"I told you, not with you. I promise. Sometimes I'm forced to use a form of it with a disturbed mind."

"For instance?"

"Gillen."

"The man you talk to on the phone. Who is he?"

"One of Travis's walking wounded. He's in an asylum in upstate New York. I've been working with him. He's a tough case. He was already unstable before he was injured and went into a coma. I use everything I can with Gillen."

"To put him back together."

"If I can. Sometimes it doesn't work. Good night, Kerry. . . ."

He was gone.

No!

Good God, she felt lonely. She wanted him back, she realized with shock. It was as if a part of her had been torn away.

Linked.

She was frightened at the thought, but that wasn't all she was experiencing. She hadn't expected to feel this sense of loss.

Empty. So empty.

The lake was darkening and so was the sky. Everything was becoming hazy. . . .

Her father called her tonight," Dickens told Trask when he picked up. "I don't think there's anything you can use there. She wasn't exactly friendly with him. They have issues. He evidently had her committed to a booby hatch several years ago."

"She's unstable?"

"She was at one time. No indication of it in her present life. Unless you'd call her obsession with catching pyromaniacs a sign."

"Obsession isn't always a weakness," Trask said. "I've been called obsessed myself."

"Did you get my dossier on her?"

"Yes, very interesting." He looked down at the photo of Kerry Murphy on the desk in front of him. She was looking straight ahead, and there was a touch of bold defiance in her expression. "I need to know more. Keep on her."

"What about the surveillance of Raztov?"

He thought about it. He needed to move forward with tying up those loose ends, but Murphy was too alluring. "Put him on hold for now. Find me a way to get to Kerry Murphy." He hung up, his gaze still on the photo.

Kerry Murphy was probably an indulgence he couldn't afford, but the more he learned about her, the more he was enticed. As he'd stood watching her at the Krazky ruins, he'd felt an odd sense of empathy and familiarity. It had been very strong and caught him completely off guard. It was probably that, in her way, she was as enthralled with fire as he was. It had dominated her life as it had his. It made him feel very close to her. Almost as close as he'd been to Helen. . . .

His finger traced the curve of Kerry Murphy's cheek in the photo. It was strange to feel this mixture of emotions where she was concerned. His rage and desire to destroy in the most painful of ways were becoming tainted with an almost sexual attachment.

Because, even though she didn't realize it, he knew she didn't hate the fires she fought. She was fascinated by them; they possessed her.

And that possession formed a strong bond between them.

Linked.

Pardon me, Ms. Murphy. But it's after noon and Brad said that you needed to eat."

Kerry opened her eyes to see George standing by her bed with a breakfast tray. "Oh, he did." She yawned and sat up in bed. "I'm surprised you went along with him."

"Oh, I agree with him on occasion." He put the tray on her lap. "You haven't been eating decently since you came here. And he seemed convinced he was right. I thought it was worthwhile going along with him." He tilted his head. "You look very rested. Sleeping late did you good."

She felt rested. And calm. Damn Silver. She still wasn't entirely sure he hadn't left some sort of suggestion when he'd- "You're frowning. Don't you like pancakes?"

She smiled. "I love pancakes." She picked up her fork. "Thank you, George."

"Thank Brad." He turned to the door. "It was his suggestion."

"I'm a little wary of his suggestions at the moment."

"Indeed?" He glanced over his shoulder. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"No."

"Too bad. I'm sure there were all kinds of layers to that remark."

She suddenly remembered something. "You weren't here last night when we arrived. Or maybe you were. Did you go to bed early?"

"No, I took a little trip of my own."

"Where?"

He smiled. "You might call it an exploratory journey. Brad wanted me to ask you if you'd see him after you got dressed."

He wasn't going to tell her where he'd gone. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked. Everyone had a right to their privacy. "How very polite of him." She took a bite of pancake. "You can tell him to come up now. I want to see him."

"He's on the phone. From what I overheard he evidently got a call from someone who needed soothing." He made a face. "It's weird to see Brad in that kind of nurturing mode. Like watching a tiger protecting a goat. I find myself waiting for him to pounce."

"Was it Gillen?"

He shrugged. "I've no idea. You know this particular goat?"

"I just know about him." She sipped her coffee. "And I don't think you need to worry about Silver devouring him. Maybe he's not as ruthless as we thought."

"Don't count on it." He studied her. "Do I detect signs of softening?"

"No, but he's like everybody else. I'm sure he has a good side and a bad side."

"Yesterday you would have argued with me if I'd tried to tell you that. What changed you?"

"I was angry yesterday. I've had a good night's sleep and now I'm more reasonable."

"And Silver is looking more like a pussycat than a tiger to you?"

She chuckled. "No way."

He breathed a sign of relief. "You were beginning to worry me. I was afraid you were having a serious lapse of judgment."

"Are you trying to warn me about Silver? It's not necessary, George." She leaned back against the pillow. "And I'm surprised you'd try. I think you like him."

"Oh, I do. I've always liked him. I admired his brother, but I've always felt a sense of empathy with Brad."

"Because you're a tiger too?"

He shook his head. "We have similar savage instincts, but I'd consider myself more of a leopard. Less straightforward and very changeable."

"Changeable . . ." Yes, she could sense the volatility beneath George's calm surface. "Yet you've chosen a profession that requires the utmost in trust and reliability."

"That's my Dr. Jekyll persona." He smiled. "And, as you've said, no one is one-dimensional."

"But you're not Mr. Hyde either."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then that's more than I am."

"Believe it. Lately I've come too close to a monster not to know one when I see it."

"Trask."

She nodded. "And your choices seem to have always been on the side of the good guys. Silver told me you were a commando and then worked for the Secret Service. Why did you decide to go to work as a butler?"

"Why not? I'm very good at it and the pay is extraordinary."