"Riley, you seemed perfectly fine last night."

"So I gather. It's fairly obvious that I was…functional. Working at my laptop, starting that damn report. I just don't remember doing it."

"Jesus Christ. You want to explain to me why you aren't in a hospital?"

"They wouldn't know what to do with me. Ash, about the only thing medical science knows about the human brain is that they don't know what most of it's used for. And as far as the SCU can determine, that's probably the part psychics do use."

He was frowning. "You're telling me medical tests wouldn't show any organic cause for the blackouts?"

"I'm telling you they wouldn't provide any information I don't already have. And that it isn't something a doctor can slap a Band-Aid on and send me home with a prescription for."

"Riley-"

"Look, you're going to have to trust me on this. Whatever damage that Taser did, medical science can't fix. Maybe if I can tap into the clairvoyance, use my brain and senses the way I always have, then I can straighten myself out. Maybe."

"No guarantees."

"No."

"It could make things worse."

"That's as likely as any other outcome," she admitted.

"Is that why you finally decided to tell me the truth? Because you're afraid you could get worse, lose more time? Is that the sort of trouble you're expecting?"

"I'm hoping there won't be any trouble, of course. But if there is, if I do lose more time, I'll need someone to keep me on track." Riley drew a breath and let it out slowly. "I really don't know what could happen if I manage to tap into the clairvoyance. Maybe nothing. Maybe that sense is entirely gone; I certainly haven't been able to tap into it so far."

Ash reached out and pulled her into his arms.

Riley was a little surprised, but she found her arms going around his waist and was aware of a rather shaky sense of relief.

Maybe she wasn't as alone as she'd thought.

"We'll get through this," he told her. "And no matter what you believe, you're a hell of a lot more than just a psychic."

"Preparing me in case it really is gone for good?" she murmured.

"It's only a part of you, Riley. Not all of you."

"If you say so."

He kept an arm around her as they continued through the dog park to the break in the fence. "It's your turn to trust me on this. Besides, I'm a lot more worried about these blackouts."

"You and me both, pal."

The deputy stationed at the fence obviously knew both of them and only nodded and touched his hat with a polite murmur when they passed, but the faint smile he wore said plainly enough that he had observed the embrace with interest and without surprise.

"So I gather everybody knows about us," she said dryly.

"We weren't secretive. Why should we be? We're both unattached and past the age of consent."

"I just…tend to keep my private life private, that's all."

"Another question in your mind?"

"Let's just say it's another sign that something was different. That something changed after I got here. And it's very frustrating to not remember what that was."

His arm tightened around her, but all Ash said was, "I'm betting on you, if that's worth anything. I doubt very much you've ever lost a fight in your life. Not one that mattered, at any rate."

Riley started to tell him he'd lose that bet, but by then they had reached the clearing still roped off with yellow crime-scene tape, and she did her best to push everything else out of her mind.

"What now?" Ash asked.

"Now," Riley replied, "I try to do my job. Wait here, if you don't mind."

He didn't protest, just watched as she ducked under the tape and headed for the boulders at the center of the clearing. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Well, if my head starts to spin around and I spew pea soup all over the place, please drag my ass out of here."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

She looked back over her shoulder to smile at him. "Yeah. Just keep an eye out, okay? If anything looks weird or wrong to you, break the connection."

"What connection?"

"This one." Riley turned her gaze back to the boulders, drawing a deep breath and concentrating on opening every sense she possessed. Then she reached out and placed both hands firmly on the stone that might have helped make up an altar.

She had unconsciously closed her eyes the moment her hands touched the rough stone. Though the bloodstains had faded to rusty marks that might have been mistaken for natural color variations in the rock, she was all too aware of what they really were, and it took all her willpower to deliberately open herself to them.

She hadn't really expected anything to happen, not given the generally absent state of her senses.

Almost immediately, however, Riley knew that something had. As if a switch had been thrown or a lid closed, she found herself abruptly surrounded by utter silence.

No birds. No distant sounds of traffic and people.

All she heard was her own suddenly shallow breathing.

Riley forced herself to open her eyes and recoiled violently from the altar, stumbling back.

The acrid smoke from the fire stung her nostrils, sulfur making the stench worse. Beyond the firelit clearing, the dark woods might have been miles deep, and ancient, impenetrable guardians for the ceremony taking place here.

The robed figures dancing around the fire some feet away were familiar to Riley, but only in that she recognized the movements and gestures, the low chanting in a language most of the modern world had forgotten. She couldn't see any of their faces. None of them seemed to be aware of her presence.

In any case, it wasn't the robed celebrants that held her fascinated gaze but the open coffin placed upon the rock altar.

Riley's first thought was that it must have been a bitch to carry the obviously specially designed coffin all the way out here. And even more of a problem to hide from observers while it was being transported, large as it was. But then she realized that, ornate and gilded though it first appeared, the coffin was actually made of some kind of sturdy cardboard. It fit fairly well on the flat rock they had speculated might be used as an altar.

And it was occupied.

The woman wore a black hood, so it was impossible for Riley to see her face. She was otherwise naked, her arms folded across her breasts in the traditional death pose. But her knees were raised, her legs parted, in a clear if obscene invitation to a lover.

Standing at the foot of the coffin, on one of the smaller boulders, was another robed celebrant, this one wearing a death's-head mask rather than a hood. His arms were raised as he chanted a bit louder than the others, clearly leading them. His robe was open, and he was naked beneath.

He was also very aroused.

Riley took another step back, and then another, thoughts and questions clashing in her mind. This was wrong, and not just in the sense that most people would undoubtedly be horrified by the scene. It was wrong because the ceremony was wrong. There were familiar bits, things she recognized, the chanting, the candles and incense; even the coffin had a place in a satanic ceremony-but not like this.

It was supposed to be, above all, a celebration of life, of the strength and power of the human animal. And sexuality was a very large part of that, but…this was wrong.

Before she could make it all come clear in her mind, she raised her gaze for the first time and was stunned to see a naked man hanging over the coffin.

He appeared to be unconscious.

Riley tried to get a good look at his face, but when three of the celebrants moved out of the circle around the fire and went to the altar, she couldn't help but watch what they were doing.

In a weirdly graceful acrobatic movement, two helped the third one to climb to the top of the tallest boulder, so that he stood parallel to the hanging man.