And in the animal kingdom, the strong always prey on the weak.

Tal Nova watched the veterinarian look away from him. He'd caught the glimmer of tears, noticed the way she tried to nonchalantly brush them away as if she were just rubbing her eyes.

He kept his face impa.s.sive, but inside he smiled. It was good that he had her so scared she was crying. With her abilities, it was important to keep her off-balance and frightened, never let her get the idea in her head to become the aggressor. He knew he'd taken a chance threatening her with the cop's life; after all, there was no way of knowing if she cared more about him than her own safety. She'd only met him a week ago. And who knew what kind of person she was? Thirty-something and not married could very well mean she had a problem with relationships.

But Tal considered himself a good judge of character, and he'd taken into account the fact that she'd gone into a field where you needed a lot of compa.s.sion. Plus, she'd risked her life to save the cop before she even knew him. That said a lot about her.

It also meant she'd no doubt be very opposed to what Tal wanted her to do. Which was where the cop came in. Without that kind of leverage, there was a very good chance she'd tell him to go f.u.c.k himself.

Luckily, he'd had a great teacher in Leonard Marsh. Watching him over the years, Tal had learned all the best ways to manipulate people, to identify and prey on their weaknesses, to exploit any personality faults.

As the sleek limousine worked its way across the George Washington Bridge, Tal guided his thoughts back to the evening's plans.

Soon it would be time to see if he'd played his cards right.

Chapter Seventeen.

The warehouse sat in a part of the city Leah had never seen before. Not that she'd made a lot of trips to Manhattan in her life, but she'd been there enough to recognize the major areas: Central Park, Midtown, Little Italy. She knew the West Side from the East Side, knew the difference between Uptown and Downtown.

However, now she was completely lost.

At first, she'd thought the limo was taking them to Marsh's building again. They'd been going down the West Side Highway. Then they'd pa.s.sed the exit she'd expected them to take, continuing on the highway until somewhere between the Village and the new Freedom Towers site, where they'd taken a series of side streets that had her totally confused.

They stopped in front of a dilapidated building that looked the same as all the others on the street. No numbers on the doors, no street sign on the corner. Garbage strewn everywhere, its rancid smell filling the air. Broken windows and graffiti-covered walls gave the place an aura of dangerous disuse. The harsh crunch of crack vials underfoot, as Tal Nova pushed her toward the doors, added to the feelings of violence and despair that emanated from the cold, lifeless buildings.

"Get inside," Nova said. His eyes flicked from left to right and back again, never staying still, as if he was worried they'd been followed. Leah tried to stall their progress, taking slow steps and pretending to stumble once, hoping that maybe a cop would cruise past.

h.e.l.l, even a drug dealer would be a welcome sight right now. Any kind of witness would be better than none. But Nova only grabbed her arm and dragged her along with him, and then they were inside the gloomy warehouse while two men shut the heavy doors behind them.

Nova guided her down a dusty hallway to a long room with wide plexigla.s.s windows down one side. The windows looked down onto what had once been either an a.s.sembly line or a packaging area, judging from the rusty, broken conveyer system running down the center of the work area twenty feet below. Two cheap wooden chairs were the only furniture in the observation room.

"Sit down." Nova closed the door behind them.

"I think I'll stand," Leah said, feeling anything but defiant, but not wanting to have Nova towering over her.

The big man shrugged. "Suit yourself. Here's the deal. A certain rival of Mr. Marsh is in town. He's been causing some difficulties for us lately, making a big splash in a business area we once had cornered. So, we're going to use those powers of yours to pa.s.s a nice fatal disease to this person."

"No. I won't do that. If you need me to Cure someone, that's fine, but I'm not a murderer."

Nova shook his head. "You might want to rethink that. See, if you say no, your boyfriend dies. Either way, you're a murderer. It's just a matter of who you kill."

Leah felt as if she might throw up. "You wouldn't do that." She hoped she was right, that Nova was smart enough to realize he'd lose any leverage with her if he killed John.

"I had a feeling you might say that." He pulled out his cell phone. "Demonstration time."

The sick feeling in Leah's stomach grew worse. "What's going on?"

A thin smile crossed Nova's face. "Watch and learn, Doctor DeGarmo." He tapped a finger on the window.

Leah looked down just in time to see two men drag a kicking and screaming Chast.i.ty Summers into the work area. She still wore the clothes she'd had on the previous day. One of the men punched the young blonde girl in the face, knocking her to the floor.

The second man pulled a pistol and aimed it at her.

"NO!" Leah screamed. Down below, Chast.i.ty twisted around, holding her hands out as if she could block the bullet. No sound reached the observation room, but Leah knew Chast.i.ty was begging for her life.

The man pulled the trigger.

Blood exploded from Chast.i.ty's back and she fell over, an irregular red stain already forming on the front of her white blouse.

"Oh G.o.d!" Leah ran for the door, but it was locked. She turned to Nova. "Open the door! I can still save her!"

"I know," Nova said. "That's the point. You're going to stand here and watch her die, knowing that if you'd said yes she'd be alive and on her way back home right now."

"You f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Leah ran at him, swung her fists at his chest. Nova caught them before she could make contact, pushed her away while still holding her arms so she couldn't swing or kick at him.

"Picture your cop friend down there, bleeding out onto the floor. Because you'd better believe we have him right here in this building. And if you let him die, there's still your family to think about. Your mother and father live in Las Vegas, don't they? I could be there by tomorrow morning."

Nova let go of her arms, grabbed her by the back of the neck. Pushed her face up to the window. "Look down there. That's your fault. All your fault."

On the cement floor, Chast.i.ty no longer moved. A huge pool of blood, more than Leah had ever seen in one place before, continued to grow beneath her.

One of the men bent down and touched fingers to her wrist. Then he looked up at the windows, a wide smile on his face, and gave them a thumbs-down sign.

Tal Nova flipped his phone open again. Down below, the man pressed a finger to the Bluetooth in his ear.

"Get rid of her. No traces, understand? Wash the floor when you're done."

The man nodded. Nova hung up and spoke to Leah without looking at her. She didn't look at him, her gaze held captive by the horrible sight of the two men dragging Chast.i.ty's body away, leaving a wide, red smear behind them. The trail was like a freshly painted arrow pointing to the source of Leah's guilt.

"So, have you changed your mind, or do we need another demonstration?"

Your fault. All your fault.

"I'll do it." Her whisper was barely audible, even in the silent room.

"Would you mind repeating that? Just so we're all clear."

"I said I'll f.u.c.king do it." Leah fought to keep from bursting into tears.

That came later, after they locked her in her cell.

In the dream, everything was normal and happy. Chast.i.ty manned the front desk, alive and cheerful as ever. Leah sat in one of the examination rooms, cleaning up after her last patient of the day. No need to use the Cure on this one; just a basic spaying for the dog, a young adult mixed terrier brought in by the local shelter. They routinely spayed or neutered all their charges, and most of the local vets performed the surgeries for free.

The terrier mix, named Whiskers, stared at her from the large cage where it would be spending the night. Thanks to the painkillers she'd given it, it was wagging its tail and looking like it was ready for a romp in the park.

"Oh no," she told it, "I know your type. Too much energy to sit still." She made a mental note to dress the dog in a miniature T-shirt, after she cleaned up, so it couldn't gnaw at the st.i.tches during the night when they began to itch.

Leah liked to keep the shelter's spays and neuters for a day or two after the operation, just in case they developed an infection or popped a st.i.tch. As much as she loved the work the no-kill shelter did, she knew they weren't set up to care for sick or injured animals.

As she placed her surgical instruments in a bag for autoclaving later, one of her scalpels slipped and sliced the edge of her palm.

"s.h.i.t!" The scalpel and retractors fell to the floor as she clutched her hand. A quick glance confirmed the cut was deep enough to require several st.i.tches. Her knees went weak and she grabbed the edge of the examining table to keep from falling. The room spun around her, and everything went gray.

Although she dealt with blood and injured body parts every day without a problem, she'd never dealt with her own before. The sight of it had her stomach doing loops.

Her hand slipped off the metal table and she grabbed it again. A sharp pain ran up her arm, and through her dizziness she felt the first tremors of real fear. Had she cut herself worse than she'd thought? What if there'd been damage to a tendon or nerve? She needed her hands in perfect shape; her whole livelihood depended on it.

Taking a deep breath, she let go and held her hand up again. She had to look twice to realize what she was seeing was real.

A thin, pink line ran down the edge of her hand, the fresh scar smeared with blood but no longer an open wound.

Before she could wonder about what had happened, Whiskers gave a loud yelp. Leah turned and looked at the dog, which lay on a blanket. Fresh blood stained the blanket and the dog's fur.

"I had a feeling you'd pull those st.i.tches," she said to it. "You're too frisky for your own good."

Leah opened her eyes and saw an unfamiliar ceiling above her. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Then it all came rushing back to her. Kidnapped by Tal Nova. Threatened with blackmail.

Chast.i.ty's murder.

Oh G.o.d, poor Chast.i.ty! The tears came again, the same ones she'd cried throughout the day, dampening the cheap, mildew-stained pillow they'd given her. Once Tal had locked her in the cell, a small room that looked to have once been an office of some kind, she'd been left undisturbed.

Why bother with me? He got what he wanted. In order for John to live, I'll have to do whatever they ask, even if it means pa.s.sing an illness on to some innocent person.

She'd briefly pondered the idea of suicide, but had given up that line of thought quickly, figuring Nova would still kill John, just to keep him quiet. No, her only chance to get them out of this mess was to stay alive and hope for either a chance to escape or for John's police friends to lead a rescue.

Leah pulled her thin, musty blanket around her shoulders and sat up, leaning against the chilly cement wall. There was a third option, one she wasn't sure she'd have the opportunity to carry out, but had to be ready to put into motion at a moment's notice.

If one of them comes near me while I still have the sickness inside me...

That train of thought led her back to the dream she'd had just before she'd woken up. More of a memory than a dream, actually. The cut on her hand. Whiskers busting his st.i.tches.

At the time, I was too busy closing the dog's wound. And then after that, I got distracted and never really thought about it again, just figured that whatever Power inside me Cured others also helped me heal faster.

But what if I somehow transferred my cut to the dog?

She mentally shook her head. Her Power required physical contact; it always had, ever since day one. It was just a coincidence that the dog had split its st.i.tches at the same time.

Which meant she'd need to touch Nova or one of his men in order to do any damage to them. And that seemed mighty unlikely since they all knew what she could do and would no doubt stay far away from her anytime she carried something dangerous inside her.

Still, people do make mistakes.

I have to be ready.

Chapter Eighteen.

The soft buzz of his cell phone interrupted Del McCormick's lunch. He set down his coffee and hurried to the men's room before answering. "You were supposed to call last night."

"I didn't have a chance," the voice on the other end said. "But I found out what you wanted. Nova's got the girl and the cop locked up in a warehouse way downtown. He's planning on using her as a weapon."

That confused Del until the other man explained what he meant. Del listened closely as his informant described the events of the day before, including the murder of DeGarmo's a.s.sistant just to prove a point.

Typical Tal Nova, he thought. Ruthless.

What really grabbed his attention, though, was finding out DeGarmo could take an illness or injury from one person and pa.s.s it on to another.

Jesus. She really is a weapon.

That completely changed the plan he'd had in mind for her.

"Good work. Keep an eye out, and let me know what happens next." Del flicked his phone shut and returned to his booth at the diner.

This is bigger than I thought.

He'd been hoping to s.n.a.t.c.h the veterinarian from either her house or office after Nova brought her back, but now that plan was useless. No way Nova was ever letting her return home. Not alive, anyway.

This is going to require a different approach, he thought, finishing the last of his coffee.

And a lot more people.

Leah looked up at the sound of someone unlocking her door.

"Rise and shine." Tal Nova walked in, looking as efficient and confident as ever in his perfectly pressed three-piece suit. "Time to get to work."

"Why do I have to kill someone? Wouldn't it be just as effective to make them ill?"

Ignoring her question, Nova tossed a bag onto her cot. "You'll need these. Our target has a dinner banquet at the Plaza today. He'll be arriving around five. All you have to do is b.u.mp into him on the street, give him the touch and keep going."

"I-" Leah began, then stopped as Nova pulled out a wicked-looking gun and pointed it at her.

"No more questions. No more talking, period. Got that? I can't kill you 'cause I need you. But a bullet in your leg won't be fatal; it'll just hurt like h.e.l.l. Besides," he said, narrowing his eyes, "there are a lot of things I can do to your boyfriend, too, that won't kill him. But he'll wish he was dead."

Nova put the gun away and popped a stick of cinnamon gum into his mouth. "I'll be right outside. You've got five minutes to get dressed and comb your hair."