"She signed it. I told her precisely what I was going to do. I showed her a computer readout of exactly what she would look like. I'm not sure she heard a word I said. I know she didn't care." He ran his hand through his hair. "You know that she may sue me when all this is over?"

Nicholas shook his head. "She won't sue you."

"How do you know? She's a zombie, dammit."

"I promise you. I'll protect you from all ramifications, legal or personal."

"Really? Kabler called again today."

"Next time have your secretary refer him to the St. Joseph's administration office."

"Why?"

"Because Nell Calder died yesterday afternoon."

"What?" Joel stared at him, stunned. "My God, what have you done?"

"Nothing for which you can be blamed," Nicholas said. "Just continue to refuse to talk to Kabler. If he checks with administration, he'll find that she died of wounds and was removed to a local funeral home."

"And if he checks with the funeral home?"

"They'll have record of her cremation. Her obituary will appear in the paper tomorrow."

"When I told you to take care of it, I didn't mean-You can't do things like this."

"It's already done."

"And what do you think Nell Calder will say about her demise?"

"When it's safe, she can say that 'reports of her death were greatly exaggerated.' "

"Safe?"

"She wasn't one of the innocent bystanders. She was targeted. She may still be in danger."

"Christ. I don't suppose you considered telling me what I was getting into?"

"I considered it, but it would only have made your decision harder." He smiled. "And the decision would still have been the same, wouldn't it?"

"So you kept me in the dark to save me from undue worry," he said sarcastically.

"Well, and to save myself from hearing your arguments. Isn't a fait accompli much simpler?"

"It is not."

"Of course it is."

"The records show I was the attending physician. I'm the one who will be blamed for falsifying them."

Nicholas shook his head. "I have the original authorization of transfer signed by you. If you need it, I'll produce it."

"If it suits your convenience."

"No." Nicholas met his gaze. "I promised to protect you. I'll keep my word, Joel."

Joel stared at him moodily. He knew Nicholas would keep his promise, but it didn't improve his temper. "I don't like to be manipulated."

"I didn't manipulate you. I manipulated the records." He glanced at the clipboard with the permission slip. "And you're not really angry at me, you're worried about your patient. She's no better?"

"She's close to catatonic," Joel said. "I can do only so much. What the hell good is a new face going to do her if she ends up in an institution?"

"We won't let that happen to her."

"You bet your ass we won't." He stabbed a finger at Nicholas. "And I won't be alone in this. You're not running back to Idaho. You're staying right here on call. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly." A smile tugged at his lips. "Do you mind if I stay at a hotel in town? I'm allergic to hospitals."

"As long as you're on call."

Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say."

"Yeah, sure." Joel strode away from him down the corridor.

Bellevigne, France "You blundered," Philippe Gardeaux said softly. "I don't like mistakes, Paul."

"I didn't expect her to fight so hard." Paul Maritz scowled. "And I thought the fall would kill her."

"You wouldn't have had to rely on the fall if you had done your job correctly. One stroke should have done it. You indulged yourself, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he said sulkily.

"And you killed the child. How many times must I tell you that you never kill children or animals? For some reason, it arouses more anger than if you slaughter a hundred adults."

"She ran at me after her mother fell. She was hitting me."

"And you had to defend yourself against a four-year-old," Gardeaux said dryly.

"She might have recognized me. It was the second time. She saw me that afternoon in the caves."

"You had goggles and a mask on," Gardeaux said. "I don't like excuses. Now, admit that you were frustrated and needed to strike out at something, and I'll forgive you."

"I guess I ... maybe I was mad," he mumbled.

"Now, wasn't that easy?" Gardeaux leaned back in his chair and lifted his wine to his lips. "Just admit your faults and everything goes well. The child was a mistake but not a consequential one. The woman has been taken to a hospital in the States and will live. You'll have to rectify that prognosis if you think she may recognize you now." He paused. "She was taken there by Nicholas Tanek. I hardly think it a coincidence that he was there on Medas. Which leads me to the conclusion that we might have an informant in our midst. Do you suppose that you could seek out and eliminate that informant without making another blunder?"

Maritz nodded eagerly.

"I hope so," Gardeaux said gently. "This is very distressing to me. If you should disappoint me again, I'd have to find a way to distract myself." He covered a yawn. "How do you think your knife would fare against Pietro's sword?"

He moistened his lips. "I'd carve him to pieces."

Gardeaux shuddered. "Hand weapons are so brutal. That's why I prefer the grace and romance of a sword. I often think I must be the reincarnation of a Medici. I fear I was never meant for this age." He smiled at Maritz. "And neither were you. I see you riding behind Attila the Hun."

Maritz was vaguely aware this was an insult, but he was too relieved to complain. He had seen what Pietro had done to the last man Gardeaux had ordered him to fight. "I'll find him."

"I know you will. I trust you, Paul. All you needed was a little clarification."

"And I'll go after Tanek too."

"No! How many times must I tell you that Tanek isn't to be touched?"

"He gets in your way," Maritz said sulkily. "He causes you trouble."

"And will be disposed of in time. My time. You'll not touch him. Do you-"

"Daddy, look what Mama gave me." Gardeaux's youngest daughter ran out on the terrace, waving a pin-wheel. "The wind turns it and it goes faster and faster."

"I see, Jeanne." Gardeaux lifted the six-year-old to his lap. "And did she give one to Rene as well?"

"No, Rene got a puppet." She nestled closer. "Isn't it pretty, Daddy."

"Almost as pretty as you, ma chou." He set the pin-wheel spinning.

The little girl had shining brown hair and looked a little like Nell Calder's daughter, Maritz thought. But then, most kids looked alike to him.

"Go away, Paul," Gardeaux said without looking at him. "I've already robbed my wife and children of too much time. Come back when you can give me good news."

Maritz nodded. "Soon. I promise you." He ran down the steps that led to the garden. Gardeaux never liked them to go through the house. He was afraid they would run into his wife or children and dirty them, he thought sourly. In fact, he never liked them to come to Bellevigne at all except as security during one of his highfalutin parties. That was why Maritz had been surprised when Gardeaux had called him when he had returned from Medas and told him to come.

Surprised and frightened.

He crossed the drawbridge and looked back at the chateau. He didn't like being scared. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt that panicky terror. When he was a kid, maybe. Before he'd found his talent, before he found the knife. After that, everyone had been afraid of him.

They were still afraid of him. The woman had been afraid. She had fought but she had been terrified.

The woman. He would have another chance at her, a chance to do something that would put him back in Gardeaux's good graces.

He was being like all the rest, he realized in disgust. Crawling, whining, afraid that Gardeaux would raise his hand against him.

He crossed the drawbridge and looked back at the chateau. A king in his castle. Sometime he'd like to see if the king could be toppled.

A shiver went through him as he remembered Gardeaux's eyes when he had threatened him with Pietro. It wasn't Pietro, it was the sword that chilled his blood.

His pace quickened as he headed for his car. First the informant, and then the woman. That would make everything all right with Gardeaux.

"Get here. Now," Joel said.

Nicholas flinched as the phone was crashed down at the other end. He turned to Jamie.

"I have to go to Woodsdale. Something's wrong."

"I thought you said Lieber told you the operation went well," Jamie said. "It's been over a week, too long for a relapse, right?"

"Maybe. I don't know." He pulled on his suit jacket and closed the new dossier Jamie had gathered on Nell. He had been going over it when Joel called. "Anyway, I have to go. Want to come along?"

"Why not? I haven't seen Junot in a long time." Jamie rose to his feet. "Did you know that I offered him a job as a bouncer in my pub when you broke up the network?"

"Big mistake."

"I always liked Junot." He followed Nicholas from the hotel room. "But he's better off at Woodsdale. Less chance of confrontation."

"I thought so."

Junot met them at the gate that led to the underground parking garage at Woodsdale. He was not wearing a uniform. Nicholas had persuaded Joel it would not be needed.

"I'll park the car. Dr. Lieber wants you to go right up. Fourth floor." Junot smiled slightly as he saw Jamie. "How you doing?"

"Good enough. Thought I'd let you show me the grounds while Nicholas was busy."

"Great alarm system. You'll be impressed. Even you'd have trouble."

"Ah, stabbed to the heart. You doubt me?"

Nicholas left them and strode quickly down the ramp. The front entrance of Woodsdale was located in the concrete bunker of the parking garage. Totally secure and private so that no celebrity would be seen entering or leaving after they had surgery.

Joel met him as he exited the elevator on the fourth floor a few minutes later.

"She's your responsibility," Joel said grimly. "Fix it."

"What's wrong?"

"What's been wrong all along. She's withdrawing more and more every day. I've had a battery of psychiatrists in there with her. I even called in a priest. Nothing does any good. She doesn't eat. She doesn't talk. I started intravenous feeding yesterday."

"Are you saying she's going to die?"

"I think she's willing herself to die, and she has a surprisingly strong will. I can probably keep her alive if I put her on machines."

Nicholas had a sudden memory of Terence begging him to turn off the respirator. "No machines."

"Then you find a solution." He gestured. "Third room on your left."

Nicholas moved down the corridor.

"Tania says she needs a purpose," Joel called after him.

"And I'm supposed to supply it."

"You're supposed to make her want to live so that all my work won't be wasted."