Firecrackers, Nell thought absently. Sally had told her there would be a fireworks display to crown the evening. She must have stayed upstairs longer than she had thought. Sally would not be pleased.

The stain wasn't too bad. Thank God for the miracle of carbonated water. She had been afraid she would have to change. She dabbed carefully at the chocolate smear.

She heard a door shut in the sitting room.

The maid. What was her name? Hera. "I'm in the bathroom. I'll be leaving in a moment, Hera. I managed to smudge my-" She looked up.

A face in the mirror-pale, shimmering, distorted.

"What-"

The glimmer of steel, an arm lifting.

A knife.

She whirled as the knife descended.

Pain.

The knife was wrenched from her shoulder and plunged down again.

He must be a thief. "No-jewels. Please."

The dagger entered her again, this time carving her upper arm. She could see the attacker's lips drawn back from his teeth through the stocking mask. Not a thief. He was enjoying this, she realized in horror. He was toying with her. He liked to see her pain and helplessness.

The blood was running down her arm and the pain was so intense it was making her sick.

Why was he doing this?

She was going to die.

Jill.

Jill was in the next room. If she died, she couldn't keep him from hurting Jill.

He was raising the knife again.

She kneed him in the groin.

He grunted in agony and doubled over.

She pushed past him. He felt strange, rubbery against her body. She staggered into the sitting room. Her knees were shaking. She was going to fall.

"Bitch." He was right behind her.

She had to have a weapon. No weapons.

She yanked out the cord of the lamp on the table beside her. She threw the lamp at him.

He deflected it with one arm. He kept coming.

She backed away from him. Didn't they tell you your best defense was to scream?

She screamed.

"Go ahead. No one will hear you. No one will help you."

He was right. The firecrackers and cries from downstairs were too loud.

She was standing by the French doors that led to the balcony. She tore down the beige silk drapes and tossed them over his head. She heard him cursing as she darted past him.

Almost past him.

He freed himself in time to grab her arm and jerk her to her knees. He raised the knife again.

She lunged upward, her head striking him in the stomach.

His grasp loosened and she wrenched free.

"Mama."

Oh, God, Jill was standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Stay away, baby."

The balcony. If she could lure him out onto the balcony, Jill might be able to escape.

Her fist lashed out and connected with his cheek. She whirled and ran out onto the balcony.

He followed her.

"Run, Jill. Go to Daddy."

Jill was crying. She wanted to comfort her. "Run, bab-"

The knife. Stabbing. Pain.

Fight him.

Weak.

Strike out. Hurt him.

Give Jill time to get away. Run.

No place to run.

The balustrade stone hard and cold against her spine.

Make him fall. Make him fall over the balcony. Her arms clutched desperately at his shoulders as she tried to turn him.

"Oh, no, you stupid whore." He broke free and shoved her over the balustrade.

She was screaming.

Falling.

Dying.

Nicholas fought his way through the panicked guests pouring out of the ballroom into the foyer.

He grabbed Sally Brenden's arm as she ran past. "What happened?"

"Let me go." Her eyes were glittering with terror. "Crazy. They killed them. Crazy."

His hand tightened on her arm. "Who fired the shots?"

"How should I know?" She turned to a heavyset man who had emerged from the ballroom. "Martin!"

Martin Brenden was pale and sweating. "Kavinski's down. And two others. And I saw Richard fall. They shot Richard."

"How many are they?" Nicholas asked. "Where are the shots coming from?"

"Outside through the window," Martin said. "Kavinski's bodyguards are after them." He grabbed his wife's arm. "Let's get out of here."

"How could this happen?" Sally asked dazedly. "My wonderful party ..."

"They'll be found." He patted her arm. "Kavinski had two men posted at the dock. They'll never get away from the island."

She let him lead her away. "My party ..."

Nicholas pushed through the crowd to the front door.

Two men running, their bodies lean and darkly gleaming in the moonlight. Wet suits.

They weren't heading for the docks but toward the far end of the island.

Of course, not the docks. Gardeaux would have found a way to avoid that trap after the targets were hit.

Target.

Nell Calder.

He whirled and ran back into the palace.

Two.

"Christ. Look at her face. She's a monster."

Nadine's voice.

I saw a monster.

Jill had said that. Everyone was seeing monsters.

"Goddammit, don't just stand there. Get that doctor who's tending Kavinski. She needs help more than he does."

Richard? No, the voice was rougher, harder. Tanek. Strange that she would recognize his voice in the darkness.

She tried to open her eyes. Yes, Tanek. No longer elegant, blood-spattered, coatless. Was he hurt?

"Blood ..."

"Be quiet. You'll be fine." His gaze held hers fiercely. "I promise you. You're not going to die."

Nadine was crying. "The poor thing. Oh, God, I have to throw up."

"Then go and throw up," Tanek said coldly. "But get the doctor for her first."

She must be the one who was hurt.

Falling.

Dying.

Shouldn't Richard be here if she was dying? She wanted to see Jill.

"Jill ..."

"Shh," Tanek said. "You'll be fine."

Something was wrong. No, everything was wrong. She was dying and there was no one here who cared.

Only this stranger. Only Tanek.

"I've been watching the telly," Jamie Reardon said as soon as he picked up the phone. "You seem to have been having a busy evening, Nick. So Kavinski was the target?"

"I don't know. The bodyguard was hit too. Maybe Kavinski was an accident."

"How did they manage to get on the island?"