Max frowned, sending a look back at Stormy, who sat, relaxed, her eyes closed, on the sofa. "Your friend needs you, Maxine, " Martha went on. "Besides, this won't take long."

As if to punctuate her words, Stormy whispered, "Max?" and lifted a hand, grasping at air.

"She needs you, " Martha repeated.

Swallowing hard, Max returned to the sofa, closed her hand around Stormy's and sat down beside her.

Stormy relaxed again, a sigh escaping her lips.

"You're safe, Storm, " Martha said, returning to her former position in the chair facing Stormy. "You're safe. Max is here, and I'm here, and nothing can harm you. Understand?"

"Yes, " Stormy said. "Safe." Her hand closed more tightly around Max's.

"I wish to speak now to the other. The being inside this body who is not Tempest Jones. Are you there?"

Nothing. Stormy sat on the sofa, head leaning against the back of it, eyes closed, her breathing deep and even. "Please, talk to me. I wish to speak to the other." Stormy's head snapped up. Her eyes flashed open.

Her lips parted, and she spewed forth a stream of words that might as well have been Babylonian for all Max could make of them. Romanian? Jesus.

"Lath-ma in pace!" Max saw Martha jump a little, saw her blink in surprise. "Look at her eyes, " Max whispered. "I told you they would change color."

Martha nodded, patting Max's hand as if to calm her. Her voice remained placid, though she was obviously startled. "You'll have to speak in English, my friend."

The person-it wasn't Stormy, Max couldn't think of it as Stormy-nodded slowly, seemed to think, then spoke. "Leave me alone."

"I will. Soon. But first you need to tell me who you are"

"I am she. She is me."

"You are Storm?"

"I am."

"Then who is the other woman inside you? The one with the blue eyes, the one who speaks English?"

"She is me. We are one."

"She doesn't know you."

"She doesn't remember. I am from before."

"From before?"

The person nodded. Amazing how different she looked from the Stormy that she knew and loved, Max thought.

"Why do you attack Storm's friends?" Martha asked, slowly, patiently. "After all, if you are Storm, then they are your friends, too."

"I protect my own."

"I see." Martha's voice remained calm, soothing.

"And they are a threat to something of your own?"

The person nodded again, slowly and totally un-Storm-like.

"Can you tell me what?"

"Him. Print meu." The eyes fell closed. "I'm so weak here. Take me back to the ocean."

"First, tell me your name."

"I'm sick. Sunt bolnav."

"Please, just your name. Then you can return." The eyes opened slightly, the black color changing slowly, growing lighter. "Names mean nothing. I've had so many. Now, my name is Tempest. Once I was called Mina, and before that I was Elisabeta. But it doesn't matter. We are one and the same."

Her eyes closed again, then slowly opened, and when they did, they were bright, clear sapphire-blue.

"Storm, " she said in her own voice. "My name is Storm."

Martha nodded slowly. Max couldn't take her eyes off her best friend. She was herself again, looking relaxed, normal. "Storm, tell me how you feel when you're near the ocean in Endover."

She smiled. "It's like coming home."

"Is that because you've lived in a place like it before? In your childhood, perhaps?"

"No. We moved to White Plains from Iowa when I was a little girl."

"And how do you feel when you experience the...the blackouts you've been having?"

Stormy's body stiffened a little. "It's as if I've been asleep and dreamed it all. Only in the dream, it wasn't me. It was someone else, doing things I would never do. And then, when I wake, I find out it was me who did them."

"So you can see the things you do, in these dreams?"

Her head lowered a bit as she nodded. "Sometimes. It makes me feel even more guilty."

"It's not your fault, Storm."

"It feels as if it is."

"When you do see these things, in the dreams, who is doing them?"

Stormy's brows creased. "A woman."

"And what does she look like?"

"She's beautiful. Skin like cream, wild golden hair, ebony eyes?'

"Do you know her?"

Stormy shook her head, then stopped in midmotion. "It feels as if I should. She's very familiar to me.

Like when you run into someone you haven't seen in a long time and you know you know them, but you can't place them, or when you see your doctor's receptionist in the grocery store and don't recognize her out of context."

"I see."

"I wish I could remember her."

"I think you will, when you're ready. Storm, I want you to relax just a bit more deeply with me now. I'm going to count you down, all right? I'm going to take you a little bit deeper."

Jason settled onto the bench seat and snapped the oar back into its spot-there were holders mounted to the inside of the boat, one on each side. Lou sat on a smaller seat in the rear and used the handle on the motor to steer the boat away from the motel.

"So where do you suppose this boat came from?" Jason asked.

"I don't know. I suspect it's Gary's, but that's just a hunch."

" Gary? The motel manager?"

Lou nodded as he guided the boat around a bend in the sh.o.r.eline. He spotted the lighthouse ahead and aimed toward it. When they got a little closer, the island appeared on the horizon. "There it is" The island rose from the sea, a dark shadow against the lighter sky, swathed in mist.

Jason looked out over the bow, his back to Lou. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Gotta do it. You want your sister back, don't you?" And he wanted Max back. The thought whispered through Lou's mind like an errant breeze. He didn't even try to a.n.a.lyze it.

"I'd do anything-will do anything-I have to, to get Delia back, " Jason said. He turned to glance back at Lou. "You would, too, wouldn't you? If it were Max?"

"I would."

"Then you understand."

Lou frowned a little, wondering what he was getting at, but then Jason faced front again and said, "So how we gonna do this?"

"I think I see a roof. On the far side of the island, see it?"

Jason nodded. Trees blocked the structure, but peaks and gables were coming into view.

He said, "Why don't we beach it on this side, so we can't be seen from the house. Just in case."

"Good idea." Lou slowed the boat as they drew closer, guiding them around to the west end, where their arrival would be concealed from the house. Then he cut the motor and grabbed the oars, rowing the rest of the way.

Near sh.o.r.e, they both jumped out and dragged the boat up onto the pebbly beach. Lou had landed it near a clump of scraggly brush, and they wedged the boat into its cover as far as possible, to keep it concealed.

Then Lou straightened and looked around. The island was dense with pines, large, old trees that towered high and kept the ground swathed in shadow. Pinecones littered the ground, along with a thick blanket of browning needles. The scent was amazing. Max would love this place, he thought as he started walking. She would absolutely love it. He and Jason picked their way beneath the giant pines. Birds were singing, flitting among the trees, startling him every time they took off. He kept walking, eventually finding the place where the trees ended and the house stood, glaring down at him as if in silent anger. It was built of huge rough-hewn blocks of white granite, with rounded turrets at the corners, flanking the giant arch-topped wooden entry doors. It looked like a church, Lou thought. Or a castle.

"Doesn't look like getting inside will be easy, " Jason said.

"Getting inside won't be any trouble at all." Both men spun around, because the voice came from behind them.

Chief Fieldner and two other men stood with weapons drawn, trained on Lou, every one of them. Lou reacted instantly, years of training kicking in without thought, and clocked the closest thug in the jaw, grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back and took his gun. In the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat, Lou had the guy in front of him as a human shield and was holding his gun on the others.

"You two, drop your weapons, or your friend here is history." They stared at him, then at one another.

"Do it!" Lou barked, moving the barrel toward his hostage's head.

They looked at Jason. Jason nodded at them. "You'd better do what he says."

Each man dropped his firearm on the ground. Lou shot Jason a look. "Get the guns, Jay."

With a nod, Jason scrambled to gather up the guns. He tucked two into his waistband, kept the other in his hand. Then he hurried to stand beside Lou.

"You'll be sorry for this, " Fieldner said. "You were supposed to bring the women out here, not the man!" he shouted at Jason.

Lou's alarm bells went off, and he swung his gaze and his gun around toward Jason-only to find the gun Jason held pointed right dead center at his forehead.

"I told you on the phone, I couldn't stop him from coming, " Jason said. "But it won't matter. The women will come. If he's out here, they'll come."

"Jesus, Jason, just what the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?"

"Put the gun down, Lou. I told you, I'll do whatever it takes to get my sister back. Unfortunately, that includes hurting you."

"Me, yeah. I get that. But Maxie? And Storm?"

"I'm sorry, Lou. Just put the gun down."

Lou hesitated.

"Don't make me shoot you." Jason thumbed the hammer back on the revolver.

It was a G.o.dd.a.m.n .44. A .44-caliber round would blow the back of his head off on the way out, Lou thought. There was no chance he would survive if Jason fired, and then Max would be at his mercy.Trusting a friend who didn't deserve her trust. He had to stay alive. For her. For Max.

He dropped the weapon he'd taken from the man he held, and the man jerked himself free.

"Your own gun, too, " Jason said. "I know you brought one."

Nodding, Lou took his gun out carefully and dropped it on the ground. "Don't do this, Jason. He's not just going to let Delia go just because you do what he says."

"He's gonna kill her if I don't "

"How do you know he won't kill her either way?" Lou took a step toward Jason, but no more. Someone smashed him in the head from behind with something hard. He dropped to his knees, and they hit him again.

Lou went down and stayed down. No point getting back up, not against four of them. He lay there, clinging to consciousness, but pretending to be long past it.

But he heard the impact of fist on flesh, heard Jason grunt and swear.

"You stupid fool! You were told not to bring him here, " Fieldner was doing the talking, but it was the other two beating the h.e.l.l out of Jason.

"I tried to stop him-I called to tell you-"

"Bull. You went back on your word!" Another thud, another grunt, and then Jason was on the damp ground not far from where Lou lay.