At first there was only silence.

Then more questions erupted. Her instinct had always been to run. To hide. But now she had the perfect opportunity to say what she wanted to say. "Yes, I'm here."

The reporters moved instantly, rushing to swarm around her. Their camera lenses locked on her. Their microphones were suddenly in her face.

"Katherine!" Ross yelled. She knew he wanted her to stop.

But she knew she couldn't.

The reporters were shouting their questions, one after another in a dizzying blur. She ignored them and stared into the camera nearest her. She wanted a message delivered, and the media would be her delivery service.

"I'm here," she said again and lifted her chin. "So if you're hunting because of me, then come for me. Not anyone else. Just me."

She heard low, vicious curses, and then Ross put his hand around her shoulders, pulling her close to him. "I'm U.S. Marshal Anthony Ross." His voice boomed out. "And all future questions had better be directed at me and my office."

There wasn't a need for Katherine to say more. She knew her clip would air on TV, again and again, and that was exactly what she wanted.

Give the killer a challenge. Give him me.

Ross bent his head. His lips brushed the sh.e.l.l of her ear as he whispered, "Why?"

But he knew. He had to know.

So she pulled back, gave him a grim smile, and said, "Because someone has to stop him."

And she was tired of having blood on her hands.

Then Dane was there. Face locked in angry lines. Jaw tense. As Ross turned back to the reporters, Dane glared at Katherine. "You put yourself out there as bait."

Yes, she had. But why was that so surprising? They both knew that he'd planned to use her as bait from the very beginning. There was no reason to pretend otherwise.

Now they'd just see what Valentine did next.

Dane pretty much dragged Katherine back inside the station. Cops were watching them with wide eyes. The captain was staring at her, shaking his head. Evelyn was seated near a desk, with two uniforms glowering down at her.

Dane didn't stop walking. He pulled Katherine with him, then pushed her inside the interrogation room that was becoming too annoyingly familiar to her.

"Dane, look, I-"

He slammed the door behind him. His mouth crashed down on hers.

She should push away from him. Should tell him to stop. She shouldn't wrap her arms around his shoulders and yank him closer. She shouldn't open her mouth wider. Shouldn't kiss him harder.

A dozen cops waited outside. The vulture reporters were salivating at the chance to tear her apart.

She shouldn't be doing this.

But she needed him more than she needed air right then.

"Dane." She forced herself to speak. To grab onto the self-control that was shredding.

His fingers were wrapped around her hips. Holding tight. His head lifted. His blue gaze blazed. "You think I'll just stand back and let you get hurt?"

She hadn't thought about what Dane would do. She just wanted to stop the killing. To get the murderer's attention. Katherine made herself take a deep breath. Her gaze drifted from him-she couldn't stare into his eyes right then-and landed on the two-way mirror. Her body tensed. "Is anyone-"

"There are no suspects in here, so no one's watching. It's just us." His breath expelled in a hard rush. "Bait. You put yourself up as f.u.c.king bait." His fingers bit into her hips. "Why? Do you want to die?"

There was a rap at the door. "Dane?" Mac's voice.

"Give me a minute!" Dane snarled back. Katherine realized he'd pinned her between his body and the door. His muscled frame pressed against her. She should have felt trapped. Should have been angry, afraid.

But Dane had never made her feel fear. Her heart beat too fast. Adrenaline spiked in her blood. But it wasn't fear driving her, not with him.

"Whatever I have to do, I'll keep you alive." His words were a vow. "Just don't ever do something like that again."

Then he was kissing her once more. A kiss that was still angry, still rough with desire, but also...desperate.

She knew desperation when she felt it.

When he released her, Katherine's breath panted out.

He took a step back. Clenched his hands into fists and seemed to be fighting for his own self-control. "If the killer comes after you, he'll have to go through me first."

She couldn't allow any weakness. Dane was a weakness. She needed to separate from him while she still could. She turned her back on him and reached for the door.

She twisted the doork.n.o.b.

His hand flew up and slammed the door shut. Then he leaned in behind her. His breath brushed lightly over her ear. Ross had been this close to her on the steps outside the police station. Only she hadn't felt this desperate tension in her body then. Too much awareness. Too much need.

It was only for Dane.

Her heart raced even faster in her chest. "You don't know me," she said again-because he couldn't. She didn't want him to know the secrets she carried.

He backed up a step.

They stared into each other's eyes.

"Stay here." His words weren't an order this time, but almost a plea. "If you don't agree to stay on your own, I will put you in protective custody-or else the marshal will take you away. You know Ross isn't going to just let you walk out of the station alone."

No, he wouldn't. He wouldn't consider his job over.

Even if she did.

"Okay." The agreement slipped from her.

Dane heaved out a hard breath. Then he nodded. His gaze swept over her face. "Thank you."

Dane might think he was going to be her protection, but the truth was, she'd only agreed to stay for one reason.

To keep him safe.

Because Trent hadn't been a random victim. She'd dated him. The only man she'd dated since Valentine.

And Trent had gotten a knife thrust into his heart.

So what would happen to Dane? To the man that she'd actually slept with?

"I'll stay," she whispered once more, because she owed him. He'd made her feel alive again.

"You do like to watch, don't you, Wayne?"

Marcus Wayne jumped at the police captain's low, drawling voice. He hadn't heard the other man come into the observation room. He'd been so absorbed by the detective and Katherine...

But the detective was leaving the interrogation room now. Katherine was all alone.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder at the captain. "I was here when they entered the room." Pure chance. He'd just wanted a quiet place to think. He certainly hadn't expected to see what he'd witnessed.

The woman he'd just seen in that room didn't fit the profile he'd created in his mind. Katherine actually seemed to be trying to protect the cop. To protect everyone but herself.

It didn't fit with what he knew.

Have I been wrong about her?

"You could've walked out when they entered." The captain was glaring at him.

"Then I wouldn't have learned more about Katherine." There had been real pain in her voice. Real emotion on her face.

He'd always thought she was a bit of an actress, but she'd seemed so genuine this time.

Voices spilled into the room. The captain had left the door open. The captain stalked toward him. "Whatever the h.e.l.l is going on personally between that woman and my detective is none of-"

Marcus waved that away. He didn't care if they screwed each others' brains out. That wasn't the point. "She cares about the other victims. Empathizes with them."

Katherine had always been on guard with him. She'd never let him see past her facade.

He'd just glimpsed past the brittle image. Detective Black had battered his way right through that facade and gotten to the real woman inside Katherine.

He needed to check his files on Valentine's victims again. He'd thought there was nothing different about Katherine. No reason for Valentine to spare her. But now- "What the h.e.l.l are you doing in here?" Marcus flinched at the snarl.

"I found him here watching you and Ms. Cole," the captain said as he continued to glare at Marcus.

Marcus cleared his throat.

Dane marched toward him. "Enjoy the show?"

"It was illuminating," Marcus confessed.

Dane lunged for him.

The captain stepped in his path. "Easy, Black."

Detective Black had an anger management issue, obviously.

Why is Katherine so drawn to him? That was another part of the puzzle.

There was so much more going on here.

"Your profile is s.h.i.t," Black snapped. "Katherine was never involved in any of the killings-she was as much of a victim as anyone."

Marcus glanced through the two-way mirror at Katherine. He realized then that Black had left the interrogation room door open, giving Katherine the chance to leave. But she wasn't leaving. Marcus exhaled slowly. "Before Dr. Lancaster, Valentine had never killed a man."

His gaze couldn't leave Katherine.

Trent Lancaster had been dating her. At the station, he'd savaged her with a verbal attack that a roomful of cops had witnessed.

Then he'd been killed. Executed.

And taken to Katherine's gallery.

Delivered. Almost like a present. With Valentine's Day so close, did the killer believe he'd just given Katherine the ultimate gift? Proof of his devotion? Valentine had obviously wanted to make contact with Katherine. He'd wanted her to appreciate his gift.

Possibilities began to roll through Marcus's head. He pushed past the cops and hurried toward the bull pen. Dr. Knight was there, glaring at the uniformed men.

Black followed on his heels. Good. He wanted the detective to hear this exchange. Black was good at reading people. The guy would have made one h.e.l.l of a profiler. Better than me.

"Why do you think Valentine never tried to hurt Katherine?" Marcus asked her.

Dr. Knight turned toward him. "Who are you?"

"I'm FBI Agent Marcus Wayne." He stared down at her. Pretty, composed, and from what he'd learned in his preliminary background investigation, very, very smart. But she'd also just potentially thrown away her psychiatry license.

Not so smart.

Why would a woman like her take that risk?

"Well?" he pressed.

Black and the captain joined him at the small desk.

Dr. Knight's gaze darted around the circle that surrounded her.

"He saw something in her," Dr. Knight said slowly. "Something that stopped him from killing her."

Exactly what Marcus thought. Only, before, he'd believed that Valentine had spared Katherine because he recognized a kindred spirit in her.

But what if it was something else?

Marcus glanced over his shoulder at the interrogation room. What if, when Valentine looked at her, he hadn't seen a victim or a killer? What if he'd seen...