Stop thinking about it. Move. Get to that ghost town, get her hands on the phone that would be her salvation.

The phone that was a gift from Zander.

If he’d told her the truth, if he hadn’t sent her on a wild-goose chase.

No, he wouldn’t have lied to her.

She was startled at the instant mental denial. Why wouldn’t he lie to her? He was a hired assassin, a man who cared only for himself and lived by a philosophy that was totally alien to her. He was familiar with most facets of her life now, but he was still a total mystery to her. He cared nothing for her.

But somehow she knew that he wouldn’t lie to her and the phone and gun would be where he said they would be. It was his safety net, the extra weapon and cell phone that could save him as a last resort if he, too, was caught in a Doane trap.

And he had given it to her.

Not that he was vulnerable. Not that she should care.

She would not care. Even though Doane was the common enemy. She probably would not have been involved with Doane if Zander had not killed Kevin and started this macabre payback. She owed Zander nothing. Let them kill each other, dammit. She didn’t—

A sound in the shrubbery up ahead.

She froze.

Doane?

She was close to the trail that led to the factory. She could still smell the smoke from the campfire wafting on the night air in this direction. Doane could have detected it and left the trail to investigate.

Or it could be an animal. It had happened before.

Don’t move. Listen.

She held her breath. She could hear the movement.

Large, soft-footed.

Doane was astonishingly quiet for a big man. She had become accustomed to listening for him and to him in the last days. As he got a little closer, she would know …

Doane!

She slipped into the shrubbery to the left of the path, every step silent. Just far enough to be out of sight. She couldn’t risk any sound of crashing in the bushes that might alert him.

No trees nearby. Just low shrubs, then the cliff that plunged hundreds of feet to the winding river below.

Crouch. Hide. Watch.

Let him pass, then go for the trail that led past the coin factory. This could turn out to be a lucky diversion for her.

It didn’t feel lucky. Her heart was beating so hard, she was afraid he could hear it.

He was closer.

Then he was directly opposite her.

Then he had passed her, and she heard the rustle of shrubs as they closed behind him.

She didn’t move. Wait until he was a good distance away. He was going toward the campfire. He had a purpose. It would take him at least fifteen minutes to get there. By that time, she would have reached the trail and gotten a good start toward the factory area. Just stay here and wait until he was out of earshot.

She was suddenly aware of an abrasive roughness in her palm.

She looked down and saw that she had instinctively grasped the hilt of the knife in the sheath on her leg as Doane had come close to her.

The knife that Zander had strapped to her leg to fight their common enemy.

Common enemy. Why did she keep thinking of Doane in that way? He was her enemy.

And it was time that she started to escape from him and get back to her life.

She rose to her feet and moved out of the bushes and started up the rough path leading to the trail.

She could still smell the smoke that was leading Doane toward the campfire … and Zander. Unless Zander had left the fire and was laying a trap for Doane somewhere in the surrounding woods. It wasn’t likely that Doane would go into the clearing even if he thought Eve was his only prey. He preferred to stalk, not confront, until he thought he could scoop her up. He’d have trouble scooping up Zander, she thought grimly. He was a powerhouse and probably more lethal than Doane.

Good luck to you, Zander. Bring down the enemy and crush him.

The common enemy.

Why the hell did that phrase keep repeating in her mind?

Common enemy.

She stopped in the trail, her fists clenching. What she was thinking was ridiculous, and it could be fatal. She owed Zander nothing.

Nothing but a knife that could save her life. Nothing but a chance at freedom if she reached that ghost town.

But she wasn’t like Joe or her friend, Catherine Ling. She had no warrior instincts. However, she’d never been good in the woods either, but she’d managed to survive and learn.

And everyone was a warrior if the stakes were high enough. But, dammit, they weren’t high at all where Zander was concerned. Unless you could call this frustrating sense of duty and obligation important.

It was important. It didn’t matter who Zander claimed to be or whether or not Eve believed him. She had always gone by her own rules and code. She couldn’t walk away from them now.

Stupid, she told herself, even as she whirled away from the trail and started back toward the campfire. Lord, what was she doing?

Maybe not too abysmally stupid. Doane would not expect her to be stalking him. She was the prey in his eyes. She would just monitor the situation for a while and make sure that Doane didn’t surprise Zander and get the upper hand. Then she would take off back toward the trail and leave them both behind.

Surely that was not too much to do to help defeat a common enemy.…

CHAPTER

12

THE CAMPFIRE WAS JUST AHEAD.

What was left of it. Even from this distance, Eve could see that it was now only glowing embers. Which meant that Zander had left the clearing and was probably somewhere in the surrounding forest waiting for Doane to appear.

Doane was a good hundred yards ahead of her, and she could tell that he was slowing, his head lifted as his gaze circled the clearing.

Then she saw the beam of his flashlight pierce the darkness, spearing downward as he neared the clearing.

Tracks. He was looking for tracks.

She stiffened. And he would find her tracks because this was the way she had left the clearing. Then he would turn and follow those tracks … and find her.

But he wasn’t finding her tracks, she realized in bewilderment. He was moving to the left, and the beam was focusing on the ground. Why hadn’t he found her tracks? He was an expert, and he knew her prints well. Many times she had watched him from hiding and knew just how good he was. He had kept her on the run.

Just as she was watching him now. But he wouldn’t find her prints in the direction he was going. He would find Zander’s.

Unless Zander had erased all sign of his passing. That was possible, even probable.

“You’re here, Eve,” Doane called softly. “I can feel you. You must have been very cold to risk making that fire. But you were careful. I didn’t see or smell it until I was nearly here.” His flashlight’s beam danced on the earth in front of him. “Maybe you kept the fire so low because you were afraid I’d do that. Are you afraid of me, Eve? I hope you are. It’s been very frustrating knowing you don’t fear me. If Kevin were still alive, you’d be afraid. He could make anyone afraid if that’s what he wanted.” He chuckled. “And he doesn’t really have to be alive, does he? I think you’re still afraid of him. I could see he had you by the throat whenever you were working on that reconstruction.” He was going deeper in the circle encompassing the clearing. “If I don’t kill you right away, you’ll have to face him again. You will finish that reconstruction. That’s something for us to look forward to.”

Nausea. Smothering. A reaching-out to touch. To hurt Eve, to hurt Bonnie.

To hurt Bonnie.

God, yes, she was afraid of Kevin.

But if Doane died, then Kevin could no longer use him to try to fight his way back to the living. That merging she had been afraid would happen between father and son would not occur, and the evil that existed would be destroyed.