Kay Hooper - Stealing Shadows

"I can give you a coherent answer," he told his captor. "Another hour of life is important. Another minute. Even another second. Because as long as there's still some time, there might be enough time."

"Enough time for what?"

"Enough time for me to kill you."

Bob stared at him in astonishment for a moment, then began to laugh. But the laugh cut off abruptly, and he rose to his feet, the knife in his hand seemingly forgotten, that earlier look of distraction gripping his features. His eyes had a distant, unfocused look. And his voice dropped to that caressing note that made Ben's skin crawl and his blood run cold when Bob murmured, "Well. Hello, my love."

"He knows you're there?" Bishop demanded.

"He's… surprised," Cassie murmured. "He didn't think I'd noticed the boots." She was silent a moment, her features twisting in revulsion. "Oh, God. The things he thinks. His mind is so dark, so… evil. He has no soul."

Bishop glanced at his watch. "Can you see through his eyes, Cassie?"

"No." She sounded unsettled. "He's… he's holding me too deep."

"Holding you?"

Her voice was hardly a breath of sound. "He wants me to see… his secret places."

"Cassie, listen to me. Try to back away. Try to see through his eyes."

"I want to. I want to see Ben."

"Try. Very carefully."

There was a full minute of silence, and then she flinched. Her eyes opened, the pupils enormous and blind.

Ben knew the connection had been made, that Cassie or some part of her was there. He didn't know if she could see him, but it was obvious to him that his captor was in a kind of trance, eyes blank, all his concentration turned inward.

He wouldn't get another chance.

"Cassie?"

"He won't let me see. He… likes this. Likes having my voice in his mind. He wants me there… always. The door. He's going to shut the door – "

Bishop reached over and grasped her wrist strongly.

"Cassie? Hold on to me, Cassie. He can't close the door if you don't let him."

Her breathing slowed and grew shallow, and the pallor of her skin deepened until even her lips were drained of color. "I'm… trying," she whispered. "He's so strong… so strong. He's getting angry, furious that I would… defy him--"

"Hold on to me, Cassie. Don't let go."

You came to me. I knew you would. I had to come. Yes. We belong together. No.

Vasek felt an instant of shock at her calm denial, then a hot and satisfying rush of rage. Yes. We belong together. I belong with Ben. Utter certainty. You're confused, my love. But it's all right. I'll show you the truth. He used his abilities to surround her presence with himself, to hold on to her and begin pulling her deeper, and to try to cut off the way behind her. Cut off her escape.

I'm not your love. Of course you are.

No. Somehow she managed to defy him, to prevent him from capturing her. And you're no part of me. No matter what you think. No matter how many times you believe you've slipped into my mind without me knowing.

Vasek was more disconcerted than he wanted to admit. yom never knew. Never! Oh, no?

Her laughter in his mind, like quicksilver. yom never knew, he declared, but the assertion was hollow and he heard the emptiness of it. His sense of superiority was rocked, unsteady for the first time.

Of course I knew.

I don't believe you! He tried to penetrate her certainty, probe her claims, but her presence was smooth and cool and peculiarly detached. He felt her presence but not her spirit. And only those thoughts she allowed him to see.

Rage rose higher in him, hotter, wilder. No. He wouldn't. He had never -

You lose.

Ben didn't know how he managed to loosen the ropes enough to free his wrists. Perhaps it was because this particular monster had little experience in binding his victims since he tended to kill them quickly. Perhaps he had been distracted by the anomaly of a male captive, and it made him careless. Or perhaps it was simply that Ben's desperation gave him a strength he had not known he possessed.

He bloodied his wrists doing it, but his hands were still functional when he wrenched free of the ropes and bent to untie the ones binding his ankles. He kept his eyes on the unmoving, unblinking monster, praying he'd have time to act, to cross the few feet of space between them and get his fingers around that pasty throat and choke the evil life out of the bastard.

Cassie.

He had asked her what would happen if she went too deep, and she had replied with a faint smile that she would not come back. How deep was she now? And what would happen if the monster in whose mind she was trapped died before she was able to escape?

Ben hesitated for only a second, and in that second something heavy crashed through the windows, and two of Matt's deputies lay on the floor, guns drawn and pointed at the monster. And the monster was turning toward them, face twisting, a terrible triumph in the glance he threw Ben as his arm rose, the knife he held gleaming in a threat any cop would recognize and instinctively act to counter.

"No!" Ben shouted, lunging up from the chair.

He was too late.

"Cassie?"

The room was so deathly silent that Bishop heard the shots through the open line of the cell phone. They were close together, but he was able to count three of them, and each one made Cassie's slender body jerk. Then her eyes closed, a long breath escaped her, and she went totally limp.

Bishop eased her back against the pillows and felt for a carotid pulse. It was so faint, he could barely discern it, and her skin was like ice.

"Cassie?" He slapped her cheek sharply, getting absolutely no response. Over his shoulder to the deputy, he snapped, "Call EMS."

"My God," Danny whispered. "Look at her hair."

"Get EMS here now!"

MARCH 10, 1999

"I've run every test I have." The neurosurgeon Ben had flown in frowned at his clipboard. "The MRI showed no tumor, no bleeding or swelling of the brain. There's no apparent injury or trauma, no disease we can detect. She's breathing on her own. The EEG shows brain activity, though of a kind I find unusual."

Bishop, who'd been standing on the far side of the hospital bed gazing out the window, turned to look at the doctor. "Meaning?" His voice was cool.

Dr. Rhodes shook his head. "I mean there's activity in an area of the brain where there is normally little or no activity, especially during coma."

"Is that good?"

"I don't know," the doctor replied bluntly. "Just like I don't know how that white streak could have appeared in her hair instantaneously. If anyone else had told me it just appeared like that – "

"I was there," Bishop said. "It appeared in a matter of seconds as she fell unconscious. Started at the roots and went right to the ends."

Almost to himself the doctor muttered, "The medical literature says that's an old wives' tale."

"Rewrite the literature," Bishop suggested.

"I may have to. On several counts. I just don't understand what's causing this coma. There's no medical reason to account for it."

Sitting beside the bed, Ben said, "So what you're telling us is that you have no idea what's wrong with her?"

"I know she's in a coma, Judge. I don't know what caused it. I don't know how long it will last. She may recover naturally." Rhodes clearly felt helpless. "I'm sorry. There just isn't anything we can do." He looked from one man to the other, then sighed and left the room.

"She won't recover naturally," Bishop said.

"You were her lifeline." Ben's voice was harsh. "Why did you let go?"

"If I had let go, she'd be dead." In stark contrast, Bishop's voice was calm, even mild.

Ben reached over to touch Cassie's cheek gently, his eyes fixed on her face as they had been too many long hours during the last week. Her terribly still face. "Then what the hell happened?"