Dark Summer

CHAPTER 9

"OH, NO. YOU WAIT JUST ONE minute." Devon caught up with him and stood before him, blocking his way. "I'm not letting you hand out a damn teaser like that and just walk away."

"We have to meet Walt."

"Then you can talk to me while we're walking down to the plateau. You're not leaving me hanging like this."

He gazed down at her with impatience that suddenly turned to amusement. "What would you do if I did?"

"You don't want to know."

"Oh, but I do. I'm finding that you're a constant surprise to me."

She wanted to sock him. He was standing there, smiling, every muscle of his body radiating male power and an innate arrogance of which he was probably not even aware.

"I'm tired of having you dribble out information. Lay it out on the table. Talk to me, dammit."

He lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "You're right, I'm not being fair. Maybe I was avoiding telling you about Ned and the others. It's not exactly the easiest thing to explain or make anyone believe."

"Nothing about this has been easy." She stared him in the eye and repeated, "Shi'i'go."

"I told you, it means summer." He went around her and continued down the slope. "In everyone's life there's a changing cycle of spring, summer, fall, and winter. But what if we could just stop the cycle and live in summer?"

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"What if our immune systems could be altered to make us strong enough to delay the deterioration of cells that eventually kill us?"

"And what could do that?"

"I've no idea. But Paco evidently knew. When I went to the hiding place in that far bluff where Paco always kept his book of spells, I found out he'd been playing with a formula to make that happen. There was no formula in the book, but he wrote about experimenting, then destroying it."

"And he didn't tell you about it?"

"I told you before that Paco believed in sharing only his minor 'magic.' I think he wanted an audience, not an apprentice." He paused. "And maybe company to hold the loneliness at bay. We both needed that."

Loneliness. Yes, she could imagine the old man and the reckless young boy bound together in that strange companionship. "And he said he destroyed the formula? Why would he do that?"

"You've got to understand that old man. Paco didn't want money or power. He was just interested in the way things worked and the way he could change the way they worked. The shi'i'go was just another of his medicines to do with as he liked. If it was going to cause him trouble, then it wasn't worth bothering with. He could see already where shi'i'go could lead. Danner was hovering like a shark." His lips twisted. "And then he stopped hovering and attacked. He beat that old man to death trying to get the formula for the panacea. I don't think they meant him to die so soon. It would make sense that they'd keep him alive to try to reproduce the formula he'd destroyed. One of Danner's men must have been a little too enthusiastic and killed Paco before they could get all they needed out of him. That's why they tore the cave apart trying to find answers." He paused. "But Paco was forced to tell him about the dogs."

"What did the dogs have to do with this? He was giving the dogs this shi'i'go?"

"Yes. The smoke and magic that night was just a bit of sleight of hand to mask the administering of the potion. I found out later that he'd been giving it to them for years. I don't know how many. Perhaps he'd come to the point where he even wanted to share with me, and this was the only way he could force himself to do it."

"And he experimented on the dogs?"

"Don't say it as if it was a crime," he said sharply. The muscles of his body were suddenly corded and tense, as if ready for battle. "He would never hurt them. Paco liked dogs. He told me once he wondered what they would become if we helped them along a little. He didn't like people nearly as well. He used to say there were few great souls on earth, and so it was best the rest of us weren't around that long to spoil it."

"But you said he'd given people this medicine and healed them."

"I thought he had."

She stared at him in bewilderment.

"It was the dogs. The medicine he gave the patients was a placebo. I told you that he brought me and Ned along on several of the visits. He'd have me take Ned over to the bed and let the patient touch, even pet him if he was able. No one thought much about it. Everyone knows that dogs are taken to hospitals to visit all the time, and they make patients feel better. Purely psychological." He paused. "Or is it?"

"Of course, it is."

"But they're very empathetic, they want desperately to help, to share. If they possessed the power to heal, to share their own health, wouldn't they do it?"

"Hypothetical question. They don't have it."

He was silent a moment. "Ned does. So do Nika, Wiley, and Addie. Paco destroyed the formula and the panacea itself, but it still lived on in the dogs. The dogs are the shi'i'go."

"I can't believe that."

"I told you it wouldn't be easy."

"You're damn right it's not. You're saying that Ned is some kind of superdog?"

"No, he's very normal." He paused. "Except that he's extremely healthy in every way. He heals with a speed that's remarkable. Something goes wrong within his body, and it manages to overcome and develop instant defenses against it."

Devon couldn't argue with that reality. She had seen it for herself after the shooting. "There are fast healers and slow healers in the normal course of recovery."

"Not like Ned." He shook his head. "Okay, let's go down another path. How old do you think Ned is?"

"Five or six."

"He was four when I started apprenticing with Paco. I was twelve years old. I'm thirty-four now. Do the math."

"You're kidding. That would make him twenty-six years old. Labs almost always die in their early or mid teens." Yet there had been that weird date on that microchip that she had dismissed as a bizarre error.

"Twenty-six and going strong. There's no telling how long Ned could live. There have been no signs of disease in any of the dogs over the years. They show a distinct increase in intelligence and understanding." He added, "And they appear to radiate… an aura… something… that transmits that same health and vitality they possess to those around them."

"How?"

He shook his head. "I don't know. I've been studying the dogs since I rescued them from Danner and I can't come up with an explanation yet. I've had blood tests and biopsies done, but they appear normal except for extreme good health. I've been thinking that maybe the panacea might have affected the gland centers. When you put a flea medicine on an animal, it radiates and repels. It could be that the oil glands are radiating whatever Paco gave them."

"But you can't tell."

"No." His lips thinned, and his dark eyes were suddenly glittering in his taut face. "And I have no intention of chopping those dogs up and putting them under microscopes to try to find out."

She shuddered. "That's what Danner wants to do?"

"Of course. Kill them, autopsy them, and find a way to reproduce the shi'i'go." He looked straight ahead. "And he wouldn't be alone. They'd be standing in line to get their hands on Ned and the others. All those billions beckoning on the horizon. Even the animal-rights idealists would probably sanction killing them on the grounds that the scientists might discover some wonderful way to benefit humankind. After all, they're only dogs." He said fiercely, "But they're my dogs, and nothing is going to happen to them. Even if I hadn't promised Paco I'd protect them, I couldn't let them die. I'll keep trying to find what's going on with them. I'll give the world what they want or need from those dogs, but no one else is going to touch them."

"Wait a minute." She was trying to put all the pieces together. "If the microchip decoding isn't the formula for this shi'i'go, what is it?"

"The location of all four dogs. For safety's sake, I had to separate them and give them individual guardians. It cut down the danger of having Danner get complete control of the panacea even if he found one dog. I made sure no one knew all the locations but me. I wanted to keep the information always with me, not hidden away where I couldn't control it."

No, Marrok would always have to be the one in control, she thought. The dominant forcefulness he was exuding in this moment was almost tangible. "What if something happened to you?"

"If I was killed, I had to make sure there was a way for the person I chose to manage the care of the dogs to find them. Ned is very strong, always with me, so that I can watch over him, and, if a bullet didn't get him, he'd survive. He was the logical dog to carry the microchip."

"But if Danner didn't know about this microchip, why did he take my computer?"

"That's what I've been asking myself. Perhaps he didn't know; maybe they took the computer just on the chance of finding out more about you and what you knew. But I don't like the odds of that. And how did that shooter on Santa Marina know I was there?" He added softly, "You can bet I intend to find out."

Soft-voiced but everything else about him was hard and sleek and lethal. She recalled that moment in the first-aid tent when she'd realized that safety was out of the question where Marrok was concerned.

"The person you chose to oversee the care for the dogs would know about the microchip. It would be logical to start there. Who is it?"

"Bridget."

That didn't surprise her. "And?"

"I trust her." He waved a hand as she opened her lips. "As much as I trust anyone. I don't have blind faith in anyone these days. Even Bridget doesn't know the locations of all the dogs. I go so far and no farther. But Bridget could have betrayed me a hundred times in the last three years, and it didn't happen."

"I'm not sure I could trust her. She's a little too violent for my taste."

He shrugged. "But then so am I."

She had a sudden memory of something Marrok had told her. "You said once that Danner dealt in promises."

"If he had control of the shi'i'go, do you think he wouldn't sell it to the highest bidder? Health and longevity are commodities that are more valuable than nuclear bombs. Every person, every leader, is vulnerable to the ravages of ill health and death. Whether a dictator lives or dies affects events all over the world. Shi'i'go would be insurance and the ultimate source of power. Danner could at last be God. He was already negotiating under the table with leaders all over the world even before he killed Paco." He added harshly, "But he didn't get a chance to reap any benefits. I took the dogs away from him the night Paco died."

"He already had them?"

He nodded. "I scouted around and found out he was shipping them to one of his experimental labs in the desert to be killed and autopsied." His teeth bared in a tiger's smile. "They never got there. I shot out the tires on the truck and released the dogs. Then I blew up the truck and went after Danner's lab. It was my bad luck that he wasn't there."

He'd blown up the truck and a laboratory and killed how many men that night? She could see in his expression the ferocity he had felt that night of Paco's death. "And you took the dogs under your wing." The phrase was ludicrous when applied to Marrok. It would be like being tucked under the wing of an ea gle with all its power and cruelty. "How many years ago was that?"

"Four." He was waving at Walt, who had just set down and was starting to taxi toward them. "Well, did I give you enough to think about?"

She nodded. "But some of it is pretty indigestible."

"Then let it settle. You wanted it all laid out for you, and I did that. I can't make you believe it." He walked toward the plane. "That's up to you."

BRIDGET CALLED MARROK TEN minutes after they took off. "Addie seems fine. I've set up an observation point outside the walls, and I've been watching her. She's playing with the other dogs and having a good old time. Actually, she's adjusted very well. I didn't think it was a good idea bringing her here, but I was wrong."

"You, wrong? Good God, an admission of that magnitude stuns the imagination."

"Shut up, Marrok. You know I like the idea of hired and assigned guardians for all the dogs. This was an experiment that could have gone wrong."

"I didn't have any doubts. Addie is safer behind those walls than she would be anywhere else. And she does have a guardian."

"Who you can't order around like you do the rest of us. That could be a problem."

"I haven't noticed you jumping when I crack the whip." He paused. "You said Addie seems okay. No sign of Danner?"

"I've scoured every inch of this place and the surrounding area, and it's clean."

"And?"

"Okay, I haven't sensed anything either. But you know it doesn't happen all the time. It didn't with Fraser. Not in time."

"Bridget…"

"I know. I know." She changed the subject. "So what am I supposed to expect? Did you manage to do damage control, or does Danner have the decode?"

"He has it."

"Damn."

"And it's only a matter of time until he gets a translation. I made sure that it was complicated enough so that he'd have to do it piece by piece. But Addie's location came first, and he won't wait until he gets the rest of the translation. Things are going to go to hell fast. Even Lincoln is on his way to the ranch."

"Lincoln? That's not good."

"I'll handle it. Get back to me if there's a problem." He hung up and turned to Walt. "No Danner yet. We may get lucky." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and handed it to him. "Information I got from Sherwood. It's not much. Get to work and see what you can come up with." He glanced at Devon. "Bridget is with Addie. She thinks that everything is okay for now."

Devon tried to remember the description of the dogs Marrok had given her. "Addie is the golden retriever."

"Yes." He added curtly, "As soon as I can arrange it, I'll try to get you and your people away from us and out on your own."

She stared at him in bewilderment. "I thought you were set on keeping us with you at the ranch."

"That was before I found out Danner had the computer, and the decoding will most certainly happen. We can't stay snug and safe waiting to get our chance at Danner any longer. I'll have to shift the dogs right away. We'll be on the move as soon as we hear he's started out. The ranch won't be safe. Nowhere will be safe once we come out in the open. I won't be able to protect you."

She looked away from him. "I've never asked you to protect me. I've just wanted you to leave me alone to live my life."

"And what about your friend, Gilroy, and Janet McDonald?"

"We're not helpless. As long as we know there's a threat, we can all take care of ourselves."

No, she wasn't helpless, he thought. She was tough and smart and able to handle most emergencies. She had seen death and horror on a dozen disaster sites. But she had never had to deal with a man like Danner. She had never had death come close enough to touch her as it was now. He had seen the shock she had felt in the clinic at just the sight of that macabre outline on the floor.

And, dammit, he didn't want to have to send her away. Why else had he told her about the shi'i'go when he'd known he might have to let her go? He wanted to have a reason to keep her close, to draw her nearer, to be the one to keep her safe. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this protective about anyone.

But he had felt protective of Paco. Not that it had done the old man any good, he thought bitterly. Marrok had never shown him how much he cared, and he'd gone away and let that bastard kill him. The only thing left was to revenge his death and keep his promise. It should be all that was important to him. Nothing had changed. Nothing was different. This feeling he was experiencing for Devon Brady would fade.

He glanced away from her. "I'm sure that you're entirely capable of running your own life. I'll get out of it as soon as I can find a way."

DAMMIT, WHAT WAS LINCOLN thinking, Bridget thought as she hung up the phone. He shouldn't be here. He'd promised to stay in London unless either Marrok or she sent up an SOS.

Why was she even wondering? She knew what he was thinking. Lincoln was smart and savvy and he wanted to be the one to call the shots. That couldn't be allowed. Marrok would have to handle him.

But, dammit, if Lincoln dug in his heels, the situation was so delicate that he might shatter it by his interference. She'd better handle it herself.

She quickly dialed her cell.

Lincoln picked up on the third ring. "Ah, Bridget. How good it is to hear from you. And it will be better still to see you. Are you at the ranch?"

"No." She added curtly, "And you shouldn't be going there either. Go back to jolly old En gland and stay there until you're invited."

"How rude. Actually, Marrok did tell me to stand by. I decided to regard that as an invitation."

"Stand by meant just that. You send a crew in to take care of cleanup if we need it. You find ways to keep the media away from us. You prepare a place for the dogs if we need to send them out of the country."

"Which I've always insisted should be done sooner rather than later. I could do my job much more efficiently on my home turf."

"And have the opportunity and power to take over the project. I couldn't trust you that far, Lincoln."

"You couldn't? What about Marrok?"

"I meant we couldn't trust you."

"Did you, indeed? I wonder. Perhaps I should discuss your role in this with Marrok. There are things he should know about you. I've been doing some investigating of your very interesting past lately."

She was silent, considering the implications. "You're bluffing. There's nothing that you could find out about me that would be a weapon for you. And would Marrok believe you if you had? You're the one who recommended me to Marrok three years ago. If you start coming up with anything that might be suspicious, the suspicion would fall on you, too."

"How clever you are. But you'd be more clever if you'd come over to my side. Marrok is too volatile. He's been a wild card all his life, and he could turn on all of us if the mood took him."

"He won't turn on me."

"What touching faith."

"You don't know him. He's changed."

"I hope you're not wrong… for your sake." He paused. "But you'll keep my offer in mind?"

She was silent a moment. "Yes."

"Excellent. Then we'll forget this conversation took place until you're ready."

"No, we won't. You'll play the game straight with Marrok, and you'll walk the line while you're here."

"And if I don't? Will you turn our savage, Marrok, loose on me?"

"No, I'll handle you myself," she said coldly. "And you don't want that to happen, do you?"

"Bridget, I'm hardly intimidated by-"

"Do you, Lincoln?"

He chuckled. "It might be interesting to have you try. Are you as good as I hear?"

"Yes. And I've no tendency toward the volatility or wildness you're attributing to Marrok. I'd just set my focus and keep on going until it's over. I'd never stop, Lincoln."

He was silent a moment. "I don't really wish to offend a possible ally. Perhaps I can modify my plans."

"Good choice." She hung up. Lincoln had been more forthcoming than she had thought he'd be. She had known he'd approach her at some point, but she had thought that he'd play his cards close to his chest during this emergency.

Had he been bluffing about investigating her? Not to worry. She had buried all the threads that might cause her problems, but she didn't want Lincoln trying to stir up trouble now. After three years of waiting, working, and watching, she was getting close to the goal. She didn't need Lincoln stepping in and getting in her way. She'd better tip Jordan that there might be trouble ahead. She dialed London.

Jordan Radkin picked up on the second ring. "Trouble?"

"I'm not sure. Lincoln says he knows about my lurid past. Does he?"

"Probably not." He chuckled. "I'm the only one who knows your terrible secrets, Bridget. Aren't you lucky?"

She ignored the question. Jordan could be an ass when he chose. She could see him sitting there, his glacial gray eyes glittering with sly humor. "You'd better make sure. Things are moving fast here. I don't want any interference."

He was silent. "What's happening?"

"I may know where all the dogs are by the end of the week. After that, I can start to move."

"With caution."

"As much as I can. Good-bye, Jordan." She hung up.

Jordan hadn't been absolutely sure about Lincoln's threat, but he would become sure. No one was more keen or probing than Jordan when he was on the hunt. She could leave it in his hands.

She settled herself more comfortably in the grassy knoll above the mansion where Addie was being sheltered. The golden retriever was living the good life, and Marrok was right, the security around this estate was top notch. Not because of Addie but because of the people who lived on this strip of land overlooking the Pacific. There had been rumors that the estate might someday be known as the second White House. Bridget had been forced to avoid two security guards earlier in the day, and she would have to keep a sharp eye out.

She lifted her binoculars to her eyes and focused on Addie romping in the grounds below her. Lord, she was beautiful, all golden power and sleekness. Screw, Lincoln. If she had to deal with him, she'd do it. The complications were growing by the minute, but this was her job now.

The dogs of summer had to be kept alive.

A TALL, THIN MAN WAS STANDING on the front porch, watching as the helicopter descended in the paddock a few yards from the stable yard.

"There he is," Walt murmured. "Trouble."

"Only for the first ten minutes," Marrok said grimly. "After that he'll either be cooperative, or he'll be gone."

Devon stared curiously at the man who was now coming down the steps to meet them.

Chad Lincoln looked to be in his early forties, and his expertly barbered gray hair, silk shirt, and finely tailored trousers came as a surprise. He was smiling and waving, and Devon was having a problem connecting that friendly, urbane, elegant appearance with the man who had caused Marrok to react with such grimness.

"He's British Intelligence?" she asked doubtfully. "He looks more like a dress designer."

Walt chuckled. "May I tell him that?"

"No," Marrok said. "Just keep out of it." He opened the door of the helicopter. "And, Devon, Lincoln is definitely not a dress designer. When he was younger, he was with the Royal Marines and since he took a job with MI6, he's proved himself to be exceptionally deadly in the field." He helped her down. "Besides being a self-serving son of a bitch."

"For allies, you're obviously not on the same wavelength. And what does he think about you?"

"Probably the same." He shook his head. "No, not the same. I respect him, and he regards me with contempt. He likes everything to be civilized, neat, and tidy, including his kills. He regards me as a mongrel half-breed and a savage. Since that's exactly what I am, I can't argue with him."

"You can and should. We're what we make of ourselves, not what we're born," Devon said.

"But, you see, it doesn't matter to me if I'm savage and a mongrel," Marrok said. "Maybe I even like the idea of having an excuse for not becoming civilized."

Her eyes were narrowed on his face. "And you use it. I can see how eager you are. You're anticipating this confrontation with Lincoln."

"How well you read me." He smiled recklessly. "Let's just say, I have a few bones to pick with Lincoln. I've been in a position on occasion where he's called the shots. I don't like being manipulated. I want to get my own back." His smile faded. "And the bastard can just keep his hands off my dogs."

"What does he have to do with the dogs?"

"Ask him," Marrok said as he called to Lincoln, who was now only a few yards away. "Chad Lincoln, Devon Brady. Devon wants to know what you have to do with the dogs, Lincoln."

"Not enough." Lincoln smiled at Devon. "Delighted to meet you, Dr. Brady. Though I knew it was in the cards when I was told to prepare a dossier on you when you were in Santa Marina. For once, it was a plea sure to run a check for Marrok. Usually, the people with whom he's involved are the scum of the earth."

"You had me investigated?" Devon asked, startled.

"I was entrusting Ned to you," Marrok said simply. "I didn't have the right to take a chance. These days I believe in my own judgment, but I've been fooled before."

He'd been fooled by Raymond Danner, she thought. And that error had led to the death of his friend Paco.

"You could have sent for me," Lincoln said. "I would have been there in a heartbeat and taken Ned off the island."

"I'm sure you would. And what would my chances be of ever seeing Ned again?"

"Fifty-fifty." Lincoln turned to Devon. "But you wouldn't have had to be involved. I'm sure you must be very bitter about the way your life has been torn up."

"Yes." But she wasn't going to allow herself to be used as a pawn for him to use against Marrok, and that was obviously what he had in mind. She asked again, "What do you have to do with the dogs?"

"I'm the safety net. Isn't that how you look on me, Marrok?"

"Yes. Though lately I've had my doubts about the 'safety' part."

"You should have considered the consequences when you came to see me," he said softly. "You couldn't expect us to sit and play your game when you take so many chances."

"I didn't. I knew you'd undercut me as soon as you felt secure about doing it." He looked him in the eye. "But that time's not now. You'll tip us into the quicksand. Do you want Danner to get control?"

"No, I intend to do that. MI6 is getting impatient." His glance shifted to Devon. "But I'm being rude. You want to know about my association with Marrok? He came to me four years ago with a wild tale and an even wilder proposition. He said he couldn't trust any U.S. government department to offer him protection for the dogs. Danner had too much power and influence in this country. We were to provide cleanup assistance, when requested, and refuge for the dogs when and if it became necessary. I almost laughed him out of my office." He paused. "And then he started to provide me with demonstrations of his dog, Ned's, rather remarkable ability. I'm not an easy man to convince, but eventually he did convince me."

"How?"

"A lengthy visit by Marrok and Ned to St. Cecelia's Hospital and several terminally ill patients. Seven out of nine were not terminally ill at the end of that visit."

She stared at him, shocked. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so stunned. Marrok had told her that the dogs could accomplish this wonder. But she realized now that she had not really believed him. The panacea, the effect on the dogs, Paco… it all seemed like a story from a book. Yet this cool affirmation from Lincoln jerked her from storybook to reality. She moistened her lips. "Seven out of nine?"

"Good percentage, isn't it? Good enough to convince my superiors that Marrok and his dogs of summer were worth the investment."

Marrok smiled sardonically. "But not without an immediate payback."

"Not quite immediate. And you couldn't expect us to fund you without receiving something in return."

"No, I didn't expect that." He turned back to Devon. "You've gotten practically no sleep in the past twenty-four hours. Why don't you go inside and try to catch a nap?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Yes. I have to talk to Lincoln, and you don't need to hear it. As Lincoln said, you're bitter enough about being involved without getting in any deeper."

Bitter? Of course she was bitter. Yet she found she didn't like the idea of being sent away like an outsider.

But what else was she but an outsider? Her heart was touched by those dogs, but they weren't her problem. Marrok certainly wasn't her problem.

"You can't help, Devon." Marrok's gaze was on her face. "And once you get a little rest and get your balance back, you'll not want to help."

"I didn't say I wanted to help." She turned and started up the porch steps. "And I wouldn't be interested in anything the two of you are going to say to each other. I'll call and talk to Nick and let him know that everything is okay."

"And take a nap."

"If I feel like it." She closed the screen door behind her. She wouldn't look back at the two men. Close them out. She'd make her call, then lie down and block all this craziness from her mind. She was dialing Nick as she walked toward the bedroom.

"How are you?" she asked when he picked up.

"Fine. Did you get the computer?"

"No. Things didn't go well." That was an understatement. That moment when she'd stared down at that chalked outline on the floor of the clinic seemed a long time ago. "And they may get worse."

"For us?"

"I don't think so. Marrok has changed his mind. He doesn't want us here."

"And that's what you wanted. When?"

"Soon. Is Janet okay?"

"Sure. She's alternating between being belligerent and following her natural instincts and trying to run the place."

"Gracie?"

"Missing you. But she loves everyone. She's getting along just fine."

"Good. I'll be down to see you as soon as I get a little sleep. Bye, Nick."

"Devon, you sound… Why don't I come up there, and we'll talk?"

"Thanks. But I don't need a shoulder to lean on. I've just been hit in the face with something that's pretty strange. I have to decide whether to accept it." But she'd already accepted it, she realized. That moment of shock following Lincoln's almost casual statement had broken through the haze of bewilderment that had enveloped her. There might still be moments of disbelief and doubt. She would never be entirely certain until she was a witness herself. But she had accepted the possibility, and she couldn't turn her back on that knowledge. "I'll talk to you later, Nick." She hung up.

She moved slowly toward the bed. If she had accepted that there was such a panacea as shi'i'go and it had been somehow transferred to Ned and the other dogs, then it could change everything. The potential was enormous and a little scary.

Try walking in my shoes, Marrok had said. Yes, she could see how difficult and conflicted it would be for him. So many irons in the fire, so many ways he was being pulled. Responsibility for the panacea, revenge for the death of his friend, protectiveness toward the dogs, determination to keep Danner from gaining control. How would she have balanced all those elements not for a few days but years? Probably not the way Marrok had handled it. Marrok's instincts leaned toward reckless violence and she had always been reasonable and logical.

But she had not been behaving reasonably and logically since Marrok had entered her life. She had made impulsive decisions and been driven by emotion. She had not only wanted to keep others from being killed by Danner, she had wanted revenge for her friends who had been murdered. Marrok had remarked on her gentleness, but where was the gentleness in that? The answer was plain.

She was walking in Marrok's footsteps and discovering things about herself that she had never known.