“Beg.” Pleasure purred into Kane’s voice. “Beg for mercy. Crawl for it.”

With what strength he had left, Jordan lifted his head, stared straight into Kane’s eyes. “Kiss my—”

His vision dimmed. He heard shouting over the roaring in his ears, felt a flood of warmth over the hideous cold.

And the fury of Kane’s voice seemed to scream through his mind: “I am not finished!”

Jordan fell into unconsciousness.

“JORDAN! Oh, God, oh, God, Jordan, come back.”

He thought perhaps he was on a boat, one that rocked fitfully in the sea. He might have drowned, he supposed. His chest was on fire, his head dull and throbbing. But someone was bringing him back, pressing warm lips to his. Dragging him back to life whether he liked it or not.

But why the hell was a dog barking like a maniac out in the open sea?

He blinked his eyes open and stared up at Dana.

Though pale as glass, she was a welcome sight. She was running a trembling hand over his face, pushing it through his hair as she clamped her arms around him and rocked.

Outside the closed bedroom door, Moe barked and threw himself against the wood.

“What the hell?” he managed and stared dully when she began to laugh.

“You’re back. Okay, you’re back.” Hysteria was trying to bubble and brew in her chest. “Your mouth’s bleeding. Your mouth’s bleeding, and your chest, and you’re—you’re so cold.”

“Give me a minute.” He didn’t try to move, not yet, as he’d already discovered that just turning his head brought on a hideous wave of pain and nausea.

But what he could see was a blessed relief. He was in Dana’s bedroom, sprawled on the bed, mostly over her lap, while she clutched him to her breast as she might a nursing baby.

If he didn’t feel as though he’d been run over by a truck, it wouldn’t have been half bad.

“I was dreaming.”

“No.” She pressed her cheek to his. “No, you weren’t.”

“At first . . . or maybe not. Stretch, you got any whiskey around here? I need a shot.”

“I’ve got a bottle of Paddy’s.”

“I’ll give you a thousand dollars for three fingers of Paddy’s.”

“Sold.” Her laugh was too close to a sob for comfort. “Here, just lie down. I’ll get it. You need to cover up, you’re shaking.”

She hauled the covers over him, tucked him up like a bug in a cocoon. “Oh, Jesus God.” She shook herself as she dropped her forehead to his.

“Two thousand if you get it here within the next forty-five seconds.”

She fled the room, and Jordan figured he couldn’t be in such bad shape if he could still appreciate the beauty of a naked Dana on the run.

An instant later Moe leaped on the bed and tripled every ache in his body. He started to curse, then settled for a sigh as the dog growled low, sniffed all around the bedcovers, then slurped Jordan’s face.

“Yeah, that’ll teach us to boot you out of the bedroom just because we want to have sex in private.”

Moe whined, bumped Jordan’s shoulder with his nose, then turned three ungainly circles and settled down at his side.

Dana sprinted back, a bottle in one hand, a glass in the other. After pouring considerably more than three fingers of whiskey, she hooked an arm behind his head and lifted the glass to his lips.

“Thanks. I can handle it from here.”

“Okay.” Still, she eased him gently back against the pillows before lifting the bottle again and taking a long pull straight from it herself.

She imagined the heat of it hit Jordan’s belly just as shockingly as it did hers. Steadier, she went to the closet and pulled out a robe.

“Do you have to put that on? I like looking at you.”

She didn’t want to tell him her skin felt as if it had been rubbed with ice. “We shouldn’t have locked the dog out of the room.”

“Yeah, Moe and I were just discussing that.” He laid his hand on Moe’s wide back. “Is he what woke you?”

“Him, and your screaming.” She shuddered once, then sat on the side of the bed. “Jordan, your chest.”

“What?” He looked down at himself as she eased the covers aside. There were five distinct grooves, like a talon pattern, over his heart. They were shallow, he noted, and thanked God for it. But they bled sluggishly and were viciously painful.

“I’m messing up your sheets.”

“They’ll wash.” She had to swallow, hard. “I’d better take care of those cuts. While I’m at it, you can tell me what the hell he did to you.”

She went into the bathroom for antiseptic and bandages, then just braced her hands on the sink and ordered herself to breathe until she could manage it without feeling like she was sucking razor blades into her throat.

She knew what fear was now. She’d felt it when the storm had ripped over the island and the black sea had rushed to take her. But even that, she realized, even that bone-deep terror, had been a shadow of what she’d gone through when the shocked agony of Jordan’s scream had torn her out of sleep.

She fought back her tears. They were a useless indulgence when action was needed. Instead, she gathered what she needed and went back in to tend his wounds.

“I brought you some aspirin. I don’t have anything stronger.”

“That’ll work. Thanks.” He downed three with the water she offered. “Look, I can handle this. I remember you don’t do well with blood.”

“I won’t be a baby if you won’t.” Ignoring the queasiness, she sat down to mop him up. “Talk to me, and I’m less likely to pitch over in a faint. What happened, Jordan? Where did he take you?”

“I started out somewhere else. I can’t quite pull it back, so maybe I was dreaming. I was walking. It was dark, but with a full moon. I think it might’ve been up at the Peak. I can’t remember for sure. It’s hazy.”

“Keep going.” She concentrated on his voice, on the words. On anything but the way the cloth she was using reddened as she pressed it against the cuts.

“Next thing I knew, it was broad daylight. It was . . . sort of the way I always imagined the transporter in Star Trek works. Instant and disorienting.”

“It wouldn’t be my favorite mode of transportation.”