“No, not for her. She’s never been afraid of death. She’s gone through so much since she lost her daughter, Bonnie, that she came to terms with it. She might even look upon it as a wonderful adventure.” She whispered, “But I’m afraid for me. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“You won’t have to worry about that. Remember, you said you’d know.”

“That’s right, and I have to stop having second thoughts.” She closed her eyes. “Do something. I don’t feel sleepy.”

He chuckled. “What a demanding woman. It will come. Gently. I have an aversion to any roughness connected to you, Jane. Which is pretty astonishing when you consider that gentleness isn’t my forte.”

“I’ve noticed.” She moistened her lips. “I didn’t thank you for doing this.”

“I accepted it as a given,” Caleb said. “And you’d have trouble not being a little resentful at giving up your will to anyone.”

“I’m not giving up anything. This is my will.”

“You see? You’re going down deeper. It’s time to start thinking about Eve.”

She had never stopped thinking about her. Not really. Deeper? She didn’t feel as if she was drifting off into…

DARKNESS.

No, misty grayness.

Sleep, but not sleep.

Eve.

She wasn’t here.

Bring her. Get past the darkness. Get to her.

But perhaps she was lost in that darkness. Maybe she was lost forever.

No, keep searching.

Eve!

VIBRATION. A FAMILIAR hum of sound. Stale air.

I’m on an airplane, Eve thought hazily. Her second thought was of the throbbing pain in her right shoulder. Why…

The courtyard at MacDuff’s Run.

Millet.

Her eyes flew open.

“Are you comfortable?” Millet was standing over her, gazing down at her. “Medford told me that you’d regained consciousness. He was eager to make sure I knew that he hadn’t killed you. I was a little upset with him.”

“I can’t imagine your being upset about any kind of brutality,” Eve said. “You told him to kill Lina.”

“She wasn’t important.”

“She’s a human being, young, smart, with her whole life ahead of her.”

“And totally unimportant. She was helping Jane MacGuire, and that is a sin.”

She gazed at him in disbelief. “And what you do isn’t a sin?”

“I’m one of the chosen. I can do as I please as long as I serve the Master.”

“You’re certifiable.” She gazed around the interior of the plane. It appeared to be more of a cargo than a passenger aircraft. There were several wood boxes stamped with a crescent surrounded by a circle. Seven or eight men sitting on long hard benches on either side of the plane. She was lying on a stretcher close to the door that must lead to the cockpit. “How many people did you shoot back at the castle.”

“I didn’t count. Whatever was necessary.”

“Shooting Lina wasn’t necessary.”

“It was a way to get you into the helicopter faster. Then you stepped in front of that bullet and spoiled everything. I thought Medford had killed you.”

She looked down at her shoulder that had been roughly bandaged. “How bad is it?”

“Not too bad at all. You lost some blood, but you’ll survive to be useful.” He smiled. “And I may be able to play with you a little if I have time. I understand that Jane MacGuire cares a good deal about you. It would make her suffer to know that you’re in pain.”

She gazed at him coldly. “Don’t bullshit me. I’ve known men like you before. You don’t have to have an excuse to hurt and maim.” She paused. “Though it’s curious that you think that your master is going to protect you from every consequence when he’s probably in hell.”

“Liar!”

Her head snapped back as he slapped her with all his strength.

The plane whirled around her, and it was a moment before it steadied enough so that she could focus on his face again.

Ugliness. Pleasure. Eagerness. What a sicko, she thought dizzily. He was a crazy fanatic with his sadistic soul in overdrive. “Where are you taking me, Millet?”

“The temple. We should be landing fairly shortly.”

“Syria?”

“Yes. The situation may become tense, and I need to be on my own territory.” He smiled. “And I would have had to come anyway. The Offering is day after tomorrow.”

“And you’re hoping to have Jane as that Offering.”

“Not ‘hoping.’ I will have her. Roland has done extensive research on your relationship. I don’t think there’s any doubt that she’ll be ready to make a trade when I give her the opportunity.”

No, Eve didn’t have a doubt either, and it was scaring her to death. “Why bother with her? You have me.”

His brows rose. “You surprise me. You’ve already suffered a great deal, and now you wish to give your life for her? You’re very strong. You’re going to prove entertaining.”

“What difference does it really make? You and your scumbag cohorts won’t care who dies under the knife.”

“Oh, but we will. Jane MacGuire has to be made an example. More than one of the members has seen that photo of the painting and called me. She’s the Blasphemer, and it will please the members that she’s punished. Besides, I have to determine how she was able to duplicate the mosaic. I have to have my time with her.”

Torture. The bastard was practically salivating. “It was purely coincidental.”

“Perhaps. Since she hasn’t revealed the location of the temple in the time since she did the painting, there is that possibility. Or perhaps she was just afraid of my retribution.” His smile deepened. “I’ll enjoy the process of discovering the truth.”

And she couldn’t even give him an explanation more substantial than coincidence. He’d laugh if she told him that Guilt was born of dreams. It wouldn’t do any good anyway. He wanted his pound of flesh and would fight anyone who tried to cheat him of it. What was important was that she couldn’t convince him not to try to trade for Jane.

So she had to find a way to get away from him.

“You’re very thoughtful.” Millet’s gaze was on her face. “You’re a scheming bitch, just like her. I hear you work on skulls. Maybe I’ll give you MacGuire’s head to play with. Yes, I believe I’d enjoy having you do that.”

Keep cool. He was only trying intimidation, to play on her fear, to hurt her. But she was almost certain he’d follow through on any threat. “I’d rather work on yours. I think that possibility is considerably more likely.”

His smile faded. “I’m growing tired of your-”

“Captain Faruk said that we’re on the approach.” A dark, thin, man was at Millet’s elbow. “He asked if you’ll need him after we land or if he can return to Damascus. He’s received several requests from other members wanting to hire him to take them to the Offering.”

“You remember Medford, Eve,” Millet said. “He’s the fool who almost killed you.”

Medford cheeks flushed. “I didn’t expect her to jump in front of-”

“You made a mistake,” Millet said. “It’s beginning to be a habit.”

“Faruk,” Medford repeated.

“I won’t need him. I expect to be busy until the Offering. If I do, I’ll call.”

Medford turned and strode back toward the cockpit.

“You see, everyone is excited to come to this Offering,” Millet said to Eve. “How could I disappoint them?” He turned and sat down in a seat across from her stretcher. “I’ll permit you to rest for a little while before we land. I’ve decided that I’ll let you walk to the temple. We have plenty of time. I’m going to let your Jane worry about you for a while. It will make her more amenable when I do call her.” His tone became mocking. “A strong woman like you would be insulted to be carried on a stretcher.”

Eve closed her eyes. Think. Is there a way of escaping after we land or would it be better to wait? Lord knows, I’m weak right now, and they will be more alert during a transfer. It would probably be smarter to be patient until they reached this temple and I can access the situation.