Nora Roberts - Dance Upon the Air

He smiled then, and made her shudder. "I told you I'd always find you, wherever you went, whatever you did." He gave her a hard shove that jammed her back into the counter. The pain registered in kind of an absent way, like a memory.

"Do you know what I found here, in your little nest, Helen? Helen, my whore? Men's clothing. How many men have you slept with, slut?"

The kettle began to shriek, but neither of them heard.

"Did you find yourself some strapping local fisherman, let him put his fumbling, workingman's hands all over you? All over what belongs to me?"

Zack. It was her first clear thought. Clear enough that her swimming eyes registered bright fear.

"There's no fisherman," she said and barely cried out when he slapped her.

"Liar. You know how I detest liars."

"There's no-" The tears escaped at the next slap. But it snapped her back to who she was. She was Nell Channing, and she would fight. "Keep away from me.

Keep away." She grabbed for the knife block, but he was quicker. He'd always been quicker.

"Is this what you want?" He drew the long, jagged-edged blade free, turned it in the light an inch from her nose. She braced herself. She thought: So, he'll kill me after all.

Instead he reared back, smashing the side of her face with a vicious backhanded slap that sent her flying. She crashed into the table, striking her head against the edge of the thick wood. The world went bright, went dark.

She didn't feel her body hit the floor.

Mia treated a young space explorer. The bookstore was one of the most popular spots on Halloween. She had dancing skeletons, grinning pumpkins, flying ghosts, and, of course, a coven of witches. Her usual store music had been replaced with howls and shrieks and rattling chains.

She was having the time of her life.

She served a cowboy ghoul a cup of punch from a cauldron as the dry ice packed beneath it sent out curls of smoke.

His eyes were huge as he watched her. "Are you gonna ride on your broomstick tonight?"

"Of course." She bent down. "What kind of a witch would I be otherwise?"

"The witch who chased Dorothy was a bad witch."

"She was a very bad witch," Mia agreed. "I happen to be a very good one."

"She was ugly, and had a green face. You're pretty," he giggled and slurped his punch.

"Thank you very much. You, on the other hand, are very scary." She handed him a bag of candy. "I hope you won't trick me."

"Huh-uh. Thanks, lady." He dropped the bag in his begging sack, then ran off to find his mother.

Amused, Mia started to straighten. The pain came fast, bright, like a spear of light through the temple. She saw a man with pale eyes and bright hair, and the gleam of the blade.

"Call Zack." She rushed to the door, calling out to a startled Lulu. "There's trouble. Nell's in trouble. Call Zack."

She raced into the street, swung around a group of costumed children and nearly plowed into Ripley. "Nell."

"I know it." Ripley's head was still ringing. "We have to hurry."

She came to slowly, her vision fractured, her head screaming. There was absolute silence. She rolled, moaning, and managed to get to her hands and knees. Nausea sent her curling into a ball again.

The kitchen was dark now, lit only by the faint glow of a candle in the center of the table.

He sat there, in one of her kitchen chairs. She could see his shoes, the gleam of them, the perfect crease in his slacks, and she wanted to weep.

"Why do you make me punish you, Helen? I can only think you must enjoy it." He nudged her with his shoe. "Is that it?"

She started to crawl away. Just a moment, she prayed. Give me one moment to breathe, and I can find my strength again.

He simply pressed his foot into her back.

"We're going to go somewhere where we can be alone. Where we can discuss all this foolishness, all this trouble you've caused me."

He frowned a little. How was he to get her away? He hadn't meant to put marks on her, not where they could be noticed. She had pushed him to it.

"We'll walk to my car," he decided. "You'll wait there for me while I pack and check out."

She shook her head. She knew it was useless, but she shook her head, then began to cry quietly when she felt Diego brush against her legs.

"You'll do exactly as I say." He tapped the tip of the knife against the table. "If you don't, you'll leave me no choice. People already believe you're dead, Helen. Beliefs can easily become reality."

His head snapped up as he heard a sound outside the door. "Perhaps the fisherman's come calling," he whispered, and rose, turning the knife in his hand.

Zack opened the door, hesitating, cursing as the phone on his belt rang. The break in stride saved his life.

He caught a blur of movement, a glimpse of the blade hacking down. He twisted, going for his weapon with a cross-body draw. The knife ripped through his shoulder instead of burying itself in his heart.

Nell screamed, gained her feet, only to have her head spin and send her staggering. In the dark kitchen, she could see the two silhouettes struggle. A weapon, she thought, biting her lip to keep from passing out again.

The bastard would not take what was hers. He would not harm what she loved.

She stumbled for the knife block, but it was gone.

She turned back, prepared to leap, to use teeth and nails. And saw Evan standing over Zack's body, the knife dripping in his hand.

"Oh, my God, no! No!"

"Your knight in shining armor, Helen? Is this the man you've been fucking behind my back? He's not dead yet. I have a right to kill him for trying to steal my wife."

"Don't." She drew in a breath, released it. Struggled to gather herself and find her core of strength. "I'll go with you. I'll do anything you want."

"You will, anyway," Evan commanded.

"He doesn't matter." She began to edge around the counter, saw Diego crouched, teeth bared. "He doesn't matter to either of us. It's me you want, isn't it? You came all this way for me."

He would go after her. If she could get out the door, he'd go after her and leave Zack. It took all her will to keep herself from throwing herself down over Zack, to shield him. If she did, if she so much as looked at him now, they were both dead.

"I knew you would," she continued, every muscle trembling as she watched Evan lower the knife to his side. "I always knew."

Evan took one step toward her, and the cat leaped like a tiger on his back. With his howl of rage in her ears, Nell ran.

She veered toward the street, toward the village, but even as she glanced back, he was coming through the door. She would never make it.

So, it would be the two of them, after all. Putting her faith in the fates, she dived into the trees.

Zack pulled himself to his knees as Evan bolted out the door. The pain was like hot teeth gnawing at his shoulder. Blood dripped from his fingers as he got to his feet.

Then he thought of Nell and forgot the pain.

He was flying out the door just as the trees swallowed her and the man who pursued her.

"Zack!"

He paused only to flick a terrified glance at his sister and Mia. "He's after her. He's got a knife, and she doesn't have much lead."

Ripley bit down on the worry. His shirt was soaked with blood. She nodded, drew her weapon as he did. "Whatever you've got," she said to Mia, "we use."

She plunged into the woods behind her brother.

In the dark of the moon, the night was blind. She ran like a wild thing, tearing through brush, leaping over fallen branches. If she could lose him, get him deep enough in and lose him, she could circle back to Zack.