Dinner at Eight

By Kate

This story takes place third season and would follow my previous stories “Free Fall,”  “All That Glitters” and “Midsummer.” While it’s not necessary to have read those stories first, it helps to be familiar with a few original characters and events I established previously. At the end of “All that Glitters”, I had a closing scene between Harry and Lee that included this brief exchange:

 “Which reminds me . . .” Harry stood and moved around the desk, giving Lee a friendly clap on the back. “I’m to tell you Jiggs and Lydia are expecting a dinner invitation in the near future.”

Lee balked. “Admiral Starke wants to have dinner with me?”

“Not exactly. He wants to have dinner with Alyssa. And me. I think he referred to you as ‘necessary baggage’.”

I thought it would be fun to write a story about that dinner, hence “Dinner at Eight.” Initially, I envisioned this tale as short and light with some romantic fluff tossed in. My muse, as usual, had other ideas. There’s still some romantic fluff and a few lighter moments, but for the most part “Dinner at Eight” is best summed up by the phrase “One dark and stormy night . . .”

Thanks as always to Theresa, Liz and Diane. Feedback and comments can be sent to veniceplace12@verizon.net

**********

Frustrated by his inability to make a decision, Lee Crane swore under his breath. If the situation weren’t so aggravating he’d find it comical. He made mission-critical judgments on a daily basis. Determinations that required quick-thinking, innate problem-solving ability and assertive conclusions. So why the hell couldn’t he decide on something as exasperatingly simple as what to wear to dinner?

Because, he thought with a sour twist of his lips, this is no ordinary dinner. 

State receptions, Institute parties and formal military functions he handled with ease. He’d even gotten used to the swank Hollywood soirées Alyssa dragged him to on occasion. He had little tolerance for temperamental actors and snooty directors but would gladly face a week of red-carpet galas over a single evening with Jiggs Starke.

“Lee? What are you doing?” Alyssa Halston stepped from the bathroom, head tilted to the side as she adjusted a dangling silver earring. Even after ten months of dating, the sight of her still snatched his breath away.

“I, uh...” Reluctantly, he tore his eyes from her chic black-and-white sundress and the subtle way it hugged her curves. “I’m trying to decide what to wear.” He motioned half-heartedly at his walk-in closet

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking. Does it look like I’m joking?” He spread his arms, indicating his state of half-dress - - dark gray trousers with the belt dangling open, socks, no shirt or shoes. He’d been fine until he’d tried to select a shirt from the assortment neatly lined on hangers in the closet.

Alyssa blinked. “Since when do you have a problem dressing?”

“Since we’re having dinner with Jiggs Starke. My appearance is just one more thing for him to find fault with. He’s already exhausted my command style, my relationship with Nelson, even my car.” He frowned moodily. “I don’t know why the hell I agreed to this thing in the first place.”

“Because he’s an old friend I haven’t seen in years.” She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and pushing on tiptoes to kiss him. “And because you love me.”

She had him there.

It wasn’t just anyone who could get him to sit through several hours of social amenities with a man who took perverse pleasure in nitpicking but, for her, he’d muddle through. “You found my weakness.” Dropping his hands to her waist, he pulled her closer, locking her in place. She smiled up at him, long hair tumbling down her back in a sleek cinnamon-hued pony tail. It didn’t take long for him to grow distracted by the soft press of her body or the subtle florals of her perfume. “Mmm . . . you smell good.” He bent his head, nuzzling her ear. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here? In bed?”

She laughed lightly. “As tempting as that is, Captain, standing up an admiral will be far more damaging to your career than picking the wrong shirt.”

“You’re right.” He blew out a defeated breath and dropped his forehead to her shoulder. “With any luck Starke will be so focused on you, he’ll forget I’m there.”  

“You might actually enjoy yourself, Lee.”

“I doubt it.”

Alyssa slipped free, stepping into the closet. She studied the neat row of shirts before selecting a cotton oxford in pale blue. “Here. Classic, but still casual.”

He frowned doubtfully. “I should wear a jacket and tie.”

“Harry’s serving dinner on his deck. A jacket and tie would be too formal. Trust me.” She pushed the shirt against his chest, forcing him to take it. “I might not know anything about nuclear submarines, but I have the edge on fashion.” She started to turn away then stopped, glancing over her shoulder with a playfully flirty smile. “Of course you’d look good in anything. Or better yet, nothing at all.”

Lee lunged to grab her, but she danced clear with a bright laugh. He grinned, knowing there was always later. He would need consoling for having endured a miserable evening with an admiral who wasn’t happy unless he was criticizing. He’d milk that for all it was worth. Which, knowing Starke, was bound to be plenty.

Lee tossed the shirt on the bed and unzipped his pants. With any luck he’d be home in a few hours, Alyssa cuddled by his side for the night. 

He wasn’t the only one who looked good wearing nothing at all.

**********

Lee cast a frowning glance toward the sky as he backed his Cobra out of the driveway. “I should put the top up,” he mumbled, noting a mass of clouds huddled on the horizon. The sky had the kind of deeply bruised look that precedes a storm, bulleted with swirls of gunmetal and puce. Behind the clouds, the sun shone brightly, haloing the angry masses with a dazzling, gold-tipped corona. The forecast called for isolated storms but the front wasn’t scheduled to move in until much later that evening.  

Alyssa tilted her head back, briefly closing her eyes. “You can always do that when we reach Harry’s. There’s no rain yet and the air feels good.”

She seemed to be enjoying the heightened change in the atmosphere, the warm kiss of wind on her face. He watched as she swirled her pony tail into a bun, securing it to the back of her head with a glossy clip. He knew it was just for the drive to keep her hair from scattering everywhere, but found the action intoxicatingly sensual. It had him thinking how all those auburn waves would tumble loose when she released the clip. He had every intention of tugging her sleek ponytail free when they were home for the evening, already envisioning the satiny cascade of hair around her shoulders. 

“Lee?” Her lips tipped up in an impish smile when she caught him staring. “What are you thinking?”  

“Deviant thoughts.” He grinned and steered the car onto the road, resigned to the fact intimacy and romance would have to wait. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” There was no question he’d fallen in lust before he’d fallen in love but, having conceded his heart months ago, he had no inclination to look back.

“Twice.” Alyssa slid her hand onto his thigh, her eyes sparkling. “But I never tire of hearing it. And I wouldn’t mind knowing one or two of those deviant thoughts.”

He winked. “Wait until we’re home and I’ll show you.”

“Lech.” She batted his arm and sat back to enjoy the drive.

Home.

It abruptly dawned on him he no longer thought of his beach house as just his, but hers too. She hadn’t “officially” moved in with him, but she might as well have for all the time she spent there. She still had her condo and, true, he stayed there frequently, but it seemed the bulk of their time together was spent at his oceanfront chalet. She was often even there when he was away on Seaview. Was he moving too fast to crave a single permanent address for both of them? One of these days he was going to have to own up to being smitten for life.

A distant rumble of thunder distracted him, and he glanced at the sky. The brewing storm left him edgy.

Erratic changes in weather were a regular part of life on the ocean, but Seaview generally rode out any turbulence beneath the waves. Despite that ease, Lee remained keenly aware of changes in the atmosphere in the same manner he noted the rise and fall of constellations, the sun and moon. The storm building now felt strangely ominous, crackling with a raw undercurrent of power.

“I think the admiral’s deck party is going to be moving indoors,” he observed.

“Well, it certainly won’t make the evening any shorter.” Alyssa smiled at him mischievously, aware of his reservations about sharing dinner with Jiggs Starke.

There was no sense denying the obvious. Lee would have fared better in a larger group, but Nelson had limited his intimate dinner party to Starke and his wife Lydia, Lee and Alyssa, and Nelson’s companion, Dr. Nicole Rook.

He always enjoyed socializing with Nelson and, for the most part, found Lydia charming. He’d even become more comfortable with Nicole after some shaky history between them, but Starke was just . . . Starke.

Lee heaved a mental sigh. At least he had three other people to act as buffers.

***********

Alyssa Halston was often surprised by what set Lee on edge. Crucial, even precarious situations, he handled with aplomb but socializing under certain conditions took him out of his comfort zone. She knew he frequently gritted his teeth when exposed to her jet-setting friends but hadn’t thought to find him nursing the same level of discomfort at Harry’s casual dinner party.

Maybe it’s just the guest list, she thought observing Lee as he headed toward the bar to freshen her drink. 

After ten months, she still felt a flutter in her stomach watching him across the large deck. She was accustomed to seeing him in uniform but even casually dressed he commanded attention, his tall, slim physique the perfect counter-balance to flawless good looks. The pale blue of his shirt complimented his black hair, creating a striking contrast that would have sent several photographers she knew clamoring for a close-up. All he had to do was raise his eyes and her heart tumbled into her throat. She’d never known anyone with eyes like that - - walnut and jade flecked with honey, his lashes dense and long, black as the midnight sky. If a man could be “sinfully beautiful,” Lee Crane certainly qualified. 

“. . . had to set the idiot straight,” Jiggs Starke was saying. “As soon as I realized what Tarrington was about, I...”

Alyssa was vaguely aware his monolog, which had been droning on in the background for some time, came to an abrupt halt.

“Ali,” he sputtered. “Stop gawking and pay attention. Are you even listening to me?”

Alyssa flushed, caught staring at Lee. “Sorry, Jiggs. I was just...”  

“I know what you were ‘just’.” His eyes tracked across the wide deck to the outside bar where his wife, Lydia, had joined Lee. “What the hell is it about that man, females and parties?”

At his side, Harry grinned. “You have to ask? At least there’s no mistletoe this time.”

Alyssa knew they were referring to Jiggs and Lydia’s annual Christmas open house which Harry had shanghaied Lee into attending the past winter. Exclusive to upper brass, politicians and personal friends, Lee had been the only junior officer present. The minute he’d stepped through the door, he’d been a magnet for most of the women. Bored with their husbands’ dry wit, shop talk and showboating, they’d eagerly flocked to his side. She’d heard the story from Harry, who’d told it with a grin, then later from Lee who relayed it with a lot less enthusiasm, skipping any reference to mistletoe and society wives. 

She really couldn’t blame them. It had been Christmas, all good cheer and harmless fun, and her captain was genuinely charming. She’d discovered that the first time she’d been introduced to him, succumbing to his natural charisma within seconds.

“I’m sorry, Jiggs.” She refocused on the gray-haired man. “You know I adore seeing you again.” That much was true. She’d always liked Harry’s friend despite his opinionated streak and gruff personality. She certainly wouldn’t want to be an officer in his command - - there was probably no pleasing him - - but as a friend he was gold. 

He rolled his shoulders and harrumphed an acknowledgement, taking the compliment in stride. “At least I showed up in a jacket and tie,” he groused with an air of smug superiority.

“Predictable as an old fogy,” Lydia inserted, rejoining the group. She watched as Lee passed Alyssa her drink. “You don’t see Captain Crane clinging to outdated fussiness and traditions.”

“That’s because Captain Crane wouldn’t know a tradition if it reared up and bit him in the posterior.”

Lee’s mouth tightened subtly. “I’m sorry, Sir. I must have overlooked the memo on tonight’s required dress code.” 

Alyssa smiled into her drink, secretly delighted by her captain’s effortless feinting. Harry chuckled, but Jiggs grew red in the face. Before he could snap a retort, Lydia came to Lee’s defense.

“Don’t worry, Lee. Jiggs has khaki in his blood. Sometimes I think he was born with four stars on his collar.”

“Well, he’s certainly always acted like it.” Alyssa chimed in sweetly. She’d liked Lydia Starke the moment she’d met the older woman at the charity auction responsible for bringing her and Lee together. And anyone who could put Jiggs in his place, especially while championing Lee, was a friend worth having. Jiggs was such a larger-than-life personality she’d often wondered if there was a woman capable of partnering with him who’d be able to stand up to his domineering attitude. Lydia more than held her own, evident now in the way Jiggs frowned at her.

“I don’t know,” Harry eyed his friend. “He wasn’t always such an impossible-to-please curmudgeon, was he, Ali?”

She considered carefully. “Maybe not a curmudgeon, but certainly always impossible-to-please.”

Everyone laughed - - with the exception of Jiggs who grew a shade darker and Lee who knew displaying any hint of amusement would be equivalent to taking his life into his hands. Jiggs slanted Lee a dark look, and her captain was spared squirming further by the chime of the doorbell. Harry left to answer it and, a few moments later, Nicole Rook joined them on the deck.

Alyssa had grown fond of the marine biologist, a surprise given Nicole was the older sister of a woman Lee had been romantically involved with thirteen years before. She had expected to dislike the somewhat seriously-minded doctor but found her amazingly easy to talk to. That Harry was smitten with her only upped her prestige in Alyssa’s eyes. Anyone who could distract her ex-husband from compressed air ballast tanks, nautical charts and ocean mapping was someone with staying power. 

On loan to N.I.M.R., Nicole had already integrated herself into Harry’s life in a relatively short time. She’d been running late tonight because, according to Harry, she’d been in the process of cataloging several surveys taken while on the Leviathan II, a deep water lab belonging to the Institute. 

Alyssa was pleased to note Harry’s thoroughly enamored smile as he lead Nicole onto the deck and introduced her to Lydia. When he headed for the bar to fix her a drink, Alyssa greeted her warmly, genuinely pleased to see her. Though they’d only known each other a short time and she’d never expected a Ph.D. to mesh with someone who’d once graced magazine covers for a living, something between them had clicked. 

“I think I brought the rain with me,” Nicole commented, still shaking a few drops from her neatly trimmed chestnut hair.

The shower was light but quickly developed into a driving downpour. Wind lashed under the deck roof carrying the mist of rain and rapidly cooling air. Deciding dinner was better served inside, Harry moved the party indoors. With everyone pitching in, it didn’t take long to transfer glassware, china and silver to the dining room. The group had appetizers in the Great room then moved to the formal dining room for dinner while the storm rumbled overhead.

Lee held Alyssa’s chair for her before taking the seat beside her. The menu was light, provided by Harry’s usual dinner service - - balsamic chicken with shallots, mixed summer squash, roasted red potatoes and freshly baked kalamata olive bread. Alyssa was thankful the conversation stayed light. She enjoyed reminiscing with Harry and Jiggs about the past, surprised when Lydia and Nicole laughed over their escapades as easily as the two men. Only Lee seemed mildly uncomfortable but she couldn’t tell if it was because of her closeness with Harry and Jiggs or because he was by far the youngest in the group. She suddenly realized while she was laughing over memories of things she, Harry and Jiggs had done in their early twenties, Lee would have been in grade school at the time.

The thought sobered her all too quickly. Nervously, she twined her fingers in the silver chain of her locket. It was a piece of jewelry she was rarely ever without.

“That’s a lovely locket,” Lydia commented from across the table. Dinner and dessert had passed, and they now lingered over coffee - - vanilla hazelnut for the women, traditional roast for the men. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that all evening. The design looks almost antique.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Alyssa blushed, lowering her eyes. “Lee gave it to me.” Beneath the table she slid her hand onto Lee’s knee. He was never overly demonstrative with affection in public, but she felt his fingers fold over hers, hidden from sight. “It originally belonged to the wife of a lightship captain, but he had it inscribed for me. The sun and moon engraved on the cover represent male and female, eternal love.”

“How enchanting.” 

Jiggs gave an indelicate snort.

Alyssa couldn’t be sure, but when he jerked and frowned, she was almost positive Harry had kicked him under the table.   

“I think it’s simply beautiful.” Lydia’s eyes shifted to Lee, her glance more than a little wistful. Quickly, she refocused on Jiggs. “Why don’t you ever do anything romantic like that for me?”

Jiggs’ scowl deepened to a glower. “Because I’m not thirty-something and besotted.”

“Thirty-five,” Lee inserted quietly. His fingers were still wrapped around Alyssa’s under the table, but she felt him tense. Harry must have sensed it too because he sought to diffuse the situation.

“You know, Jiggs . . . your wife is responsible for bringing them together.” He nodded at Alyssa and Lee.

“That’s right.” Lydia brightened with a smile, pleased with herself. “They met at my charity auction.” 

“Charity auction?” Nicole echoed. Intrigued she leaned forward, propping her elbows on the edge of the table, lacing her fingers under her chin. “I must be the only one who doesn’t know the story.”

“I don’t know how you could have missed it,” Lydia countered. “It created quite a ruckus in the press.”

“I wasn’t living in Santa Barbara at the time,” Nicole explained. “And even then I spent most of my days on research vessels.”

Lydia made a tsking sound. “I thought it was only men who grew enamored of the sea.”

“That’s an antiquated idea, Mrs. Starke, but I’m more intrigued by how Alyssa became enamored of Lee.” She sent Alyssa a breezy smile. “Or maybe it was the other way around.”

“From what I’ve heard, it was mutual,” Harry commented.

“Admiral . . .” Lee warned quietly.

Nicole reached for her coffee cup. “Details,” she said with a pointed glance for Alyssa.

“I think this is the part where the men bow out for a smoke,” Jiggs announced, pushing his chair back.

“I agree, Sir.” Lee stood.

“But you don’t smoke,” Alyssa protested, glancing up at him.

“I can still bow out.” He smiled and bent to brush a light kiss over her lips, surprising her with the brief show of affection. At the head of the table she heard Harry chuckle and glanced at her ex-husband in time to catch an amused twinkle in his eyes. There was no question Nicole Rook had done wonders for the man. She’d never seen him so relaxed and lighthearted. 

As the men moved away, regrouping in the Great room, Alyssa found herself the center of attention.

“Well,” Nicole prodded again. Grinning, she leaned forward like a co-ed swapping gossip in a college dorm. “Are you going to give us all the juicy details or not?”

Alyssa felt a flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. “There are no juicy details. I just went to the auction and bid on a cruise.”

“Oh, dear, you’re not telling it right at all.” Lydia fluffed off her explanation with a wave of her hand. “It was a charity auction for the Parkview Children’s Hospital. Harry was kind enough to put up two three-day cruises on Seaview as prizes.” She took a sip of her coffee, warming to the tale. “There were other items obtained from a variety of donors, but the seats on Seaview were the big draw. We had a wonderful turnout and the bidding grew extravagant fairly quickly. There were quite a few politicians and entrepreneurs angling to win, but Alyssa and a writer had the highest bids.”

Alyssa bit her lip. Kevin Brenner had bid on the auction in an effort to get near Chip. It was only later they’d learned he’d been suffering under the delusion he was Chip’s younger brother, Conner, who’d died twenty-some years before. Trying to distract herself, Alyssa swirled a teaspoon in her coffee.

“I used a phony name - - Alyssa Donley. I still feel foolish about that.”

Lydia took a sip of her coffee. “I’d wish you’d told me who you were.”

Nicole looked between the two. “She didn’t know?” she asked Alyssa.

Alyssa shook her head. “You have to understand, prior to the auction, I’d been out of the limelight for a good twelve years. I don’t think I was recognizable to most people who weren’t involved in fashion or cosmetics, but I worried my name might still carry recognition. I didn’t want to create an uproar. All I wanted to do was have dinner.”

Nicole blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I saw Lee’s picture in a promotional pamphlet for the auction and decided I wanted to meet him.” Alyssa shrugged, self-conscious. “I thought I could charm him into having dinner with me.”

Through the archway to the Great Room, she could see her captain talking with Harry and Jiggs. She could still recall the first time she’d seen him across the room at the charity auction. He’d been in dress blues, easily turning the head of every female in attendance. 

“So you dumped a small fortune on the auction in order to get a dinner date?” Nicole sounded incredulous.

Alyssa’s mouth twitched. “More or less. It was for a good cause, and I wanted to see Harry again. And his boat. I thought Lee and I would have dinner and that would be the end of it. I never planned on anything more.”

Nicole and Lydia exchanged a glance, the younger woman giving a soft chuff of disbelief. “And then hormones took over.”

Alyssa glanced at her sharply, but the marine biologist was smiling, enjoying herself. Her amusement was contagious. 

“Something like that.” Alyssa giggled. Deciding she wasn’t going to worm free of the story, she settled in her chair, crossing her legs. Her fingers strayed to her locket, her mind on Lee and that first introduction. She still wasn’t sure which had taken her breath away more - - his eyes, height or that amazing smile. . . .

**********

“It’s a pleasure to meet you . . . Mrs. Donley.”

Alyssa felt a jolt of contact when Commander Lee Crane caught her hand in his. Something unexpected and exquisite crackled through her, making her mouth go abruptly dry. She felt like a teenager with a schoolgirl crush. The man’s voice was as mesmerizing as his eyes, their strange exotic mixture of chestnut, jade and gold hypnotically distracting. She heard the note of inquiry in his greeting and knew he was fishing.

A good sign. He didn’t seem the type to be a player. If he was trying to determine her availability, it meant he’d attended the event alone.

“Ms. Donley,” she corrected. She’d chosen to use her mother’s maiden name rather than her own for the auction. “I’m not married. And please - - call me Alyssa, Commander.”

“I’d like to.” He was smooth - - as flawless as aged wine, his smile every bit as effortless. “Call me Lee.” She felt her heart give a small tumble, something purely magnetic leaping between them. The din of the auction faded in the background as if they were the only two people in the large ballroom. The auction had ended a good fifteen minutes ago - - the winners of Seaview’s two cruises the crowning announcement to wrap the evening. Many of the attendees were still mingling and chatting, congratulating one another on their wins. She knew Lee had already spoken with the other winner of the auction at length. A lightly-catered event with wine and cheese, the whole affair had concluded by 7:30 PM. 

It was still early and the last thing she wanted to do was head back to her condo where she was settling in after a move from New York. There were plenty of boxes to unpack and a mound of paperwork to sift through at her office, but she didn’t feel like tackling either. What she felt like doing was getting to know Lee Crane better over dinner.

“I’m looking forward to seeing Seaview,” she offered.

He smiled again, his charm natural and charismatic. “She’s amazing.” A spark of warmth brightened his eyes. In that instant she knew his connection to the boat was genuine, not simple boasting. “Admiral Nelson would have been here to personally congratulate you as one of the winners, but there was a conflict with his schedule.”

“Yes, Admiral Nelson. The designer of Seaview.” She lowered her eyes guiltily, unwilling to admit she’d once been married to the man. She’d tell him that later. Admitting it now would just alter the dynamics of the evening. “I understand he’s brilliant.”

Lee chuckled. “That’s putting it mildly. In any event, we’ll make certain the cruise is entertaining for you.” He flecked a quick glance over his shoulder where the crowd was beginning to thin. “It looks like everyone is starting to leave. Can I escort you to your date?”

She tried not to smile, realizing he was doing more than idle fishing. “I came alone.”

“I see.” His grin flashed quickly this time, smooth and self-assured. “In that case - - I haven’t had dinner yet. Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to, Captain.”

**********

Nicole’s eyes danced with amusement. Settled in her chair, she tipped her coffee cup to her lips. “Just a simple dinner date?” she prodded, grinning over the brim of the china cup.

“Well . . . it ended up lasting four hours.” Alyssa conceded with a hint of mischief. “We made a second date before we’d even said goodnight. I knew I was in over my head the first time he smiled. Lee is impossible to resist when he flashes that amazing grin of his.”

“Lethal,” Lydia agreed. She swirled a teaspoon of sugar into her cup. “I didn’t have that problem with Jiggs. I turned him down three times before I said yes to a first date.”

“Jiggs?” Alyssa was surprised.

“He was so cocky and full of himself I wanted him to sweat it out.”

“I can’t imagine Admiral Starke sweating out anything,” Nicole commented. 

“It takes a special talent to make him squirm,” Lydia said with a wink.

The three women giggled. Alyssa glanced into the Great room noting the men gathered at the wet bar. One dark, one gray and one red-haired. They made a striking group. It suddenly occurred to her that the first man she’d fallen in love with and the one she loved now were both career military. As a young bride she hadn’t been able to adjust to the sacrifice involved in being a Navy wife, especially when she had dreams of her own. Visions of glossy magazine covers, photo shoots and fashion runways. She wasn’t certain what the future held for her and Lee, only that she was willing to adjust, giving them the chance she never had with Harry. Personal ambition had been eclipsed by love and devotion. Her last husband - - a studio mogul who’d cheated on her twice during their marriage - - would have scoffed and called her a romantic idealist. Whatever the definition, she was glad to have finally found true love. 

Thunder boomed overhead, shaking her from her reverie. Her eyes shifted to the windows where rain pelted the glass with renewed vigor.  

“I think the storm is getting worse,” Nicole observed uneasily.

“Hopefully, it’s just a cloudburst.”

“I don’t think so. There’s something wrong with it . . . the way it feels.”

Alyssa looked at her quizzically. She knew from Lee that Nicole embraced the metaphysical with the same passion she gave to science. Despite her brilliance, the woman was viewed as an eccentric, even a bit of a crackpot among her peers for her unorthodox beliefs. Myths, premonition and folklore were not treated as silly superstition in Nicole’s eyes.

“The way it feels?” Lydia prompted.

“Yes. Unnatural . . . malevolent.”

Alyssa gave a light laugh, but she shivered in her sleeveless sundress. “I think we just switched from talking about men to ghost tales around the campfire.” 

“I know it sounds silly.”

“No, I just . . .” Alyssa didn’t want to discount her friend’s beliefs, but the shriek of wind and rain outside was disturbing enough without Nicole giving her goosebumps. She purposefully switched the conversation back on track. “ . . . I guess I’d rather hear about Harry.”

“Harry?” Abruptly self-conscious the marine biologist dropped her eyes. “What about him?”

Alyssa groped to explain what she’d felt earlier, observing Harry outside with Nicole. “He’s so much calmer than I remember. Lee tells me he can still blow off steam with the flip of a switch, but he seems relaxed and casual.”

“He still has his moments,” Nicole verified. “And when he and Lee clash it’s an event. But you’re right. His life will always be the Institute and Seaview, but he’s starting to realize there’s room for other interests.”

“Or someone to share those interests,” Alyssa teased with a smile, delighted to see Nicole blush. Before she could comment further a bolt of lightning forked across the sky, illuminating the room in a bone-white flash. Thunder cracked directly overhead, shaking the roof to its gables. Alyssa looked to the windows just as the lights flickered. Beyond the glass she could see a flat stretch of beach, the surf churned to angry white breakers as it crashed against the shore.

“Everyone okay in here?” Harry asked, sticking his head into the room.

“Fine,” Alyssa answered for all of them. The lights flickered again, and she pushed from her chair. 

Nicole was already at the windows, worriedly biting her lip. “I didn’t think it was supposed to be this bad.”

“I don’t think anyone did,” Harry said, moving to stand beside her. “We just caught a weather report in the other room. There’s already flooding, with more predicted before the night is out. It looks like a tropical depression has parked off the coastline.”

Alyssa parted with a mental sigh as Lee and Jiggs returned to the dining room. A tropical depression. A perfectly natural occurrence, nothing spooky or malevolent about it. Judging by the ferocity of the storm they wouldn’t be heading home any time soon. Hopefully, Lee could survive a few more hours with Jiggs Starke.

“Okay?” he asked, slipping his arm around her waist.

Jiggs snorted before she could answer. “Why wouldn’t she be? It’s just a storm for crying out loud.”

Still seated at the table, Lydia rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to excuse my husband. After twenty-seven years of marriage, he forgets a woman likes to be fussed over now and then, even if she is perfectly fine.”

“And since when do you need coddling?” Jiggs countered.

“I think I should try to get back to the Institute,” Nicole announced, oblivious to the conversation taking place around her. She raised her eyes to Harry. “I have second and third-stage testing to run this evening on new coral samples from the Leviathan II. Each analysis requires precise timing.” She glanced at her watch. “If I’m not back in two hours...”

“You’re not going anywhere in this,” Lee said. “Give it awhile and let it die down.”

“I’ll get you there if it becomes necessary,” Harry assured. He’d no sooner spoken than the phone rang. Excusing himself, he headed into the Great room to answer it. As he left, the wind gusts grew stronger, battering the house.

Jiggs nodded toward the windows. “Look at that mess. I swear it’s almost horizontal.”

“I’m glad we don’t have to go anywhere,” Lydia commented, eyeing the storm raging outside.

Alyssa remembered Harry telling her the Starkes were staying at his home rather than a hotel during their time in Santa Barbara. He certainly had enough room in the sprawling house. She often wondered why a single man would want such a large estate, but imagined Harry had bought the property with an eye toward security and entertaining. Gated, with a private drive, it was nestled on six acres of coastline with water views on three sides. The vista had surely factored into his decision. The man was in love with the sea. Between him and Lee she didn’t know who was worse. 

“Well, that settles it.” Harry returned to the room. “No one’s going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Nicole asked.

“That was my nearest neighborhood, Alex Cutler. He called to tell me the road’s closed. Apparently, he tried to check on his daughter who lives in town and discovered a tree down. It’s got the entire road blocked. Thankfully, it didn’t snap any wires, but it looks like it’ll be hours until they can get a crew out here to get it cleared away.”

“Wonderful,” Nicole said in disgust. “What about my coral samples?”

“Let’s call Dennison,” Harry suggested. “He’s your back-up on the project, and he lives on Institute grounds. He should be able to follow through with what still needs to be done.”

“I think I need another drink,” Jiggs announced, heading back toward the bar. 

As Nicole and Harry phoned the Institute and Jiggs poured himself a glass of bourbon, Alyssa stacked several dessert dishes together and carried them into the kitchen.

Lee trailed behind her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping Harry clean up.”

“Come here.”

She was too surprised to react when he caught her wrist and pulled her snuggly against him. Locking his arms around her waist, he kissed her deeply, his mouth warm and eager against her own. It took her a second to respond, shocked by the suddenness of his kiss. No simple peck this time, but passion that made her heart race and her legs weak and wobbly.

“What was that for?” she asked breathlessly when he drew back. They were alone in the kitchen, but his uncharacteristic affection left her stunned, her head reeling.

“Making sure you’re still mine.”

“What?”

He grinned. “Call it jealousy over all that reminiscing you’ve been doing with the admiral and Starke.” He bent his head, brushing her lips again. Slowly this time, allowing her to savor the contact. “And now I can’t even get you home and in bed.”

Alyssa arched an eyebrow. “And you think that would make a difference?” She smiled under his lips. “Maybe I’d rather reminisce with Harry and Jiggs.”

He skimmed his fingers down her spine, sending a shiver up her back. “If that’s the case, I’ll run off with Lydia - - a woman who appreciates me.”

Alyssa laughed, enjoying his playfulness. 

Overhead the lights flickered then winked out all together, plunging the room into darkness. With a sigh, Lee bowed his head to her brow. “If we were alone, I’d take advantage of you. As it is, I guess we better join the others.”

He grabbed a flashlight from a kitchen drawer, familiar with where Harry kept most everything in the house. The beam bobbed across the floor when he switched it on, a disembodied yellow cone fading to white at the edges. From the direction of the Great room Alyssa could hear voices and movement as the others adjusted to the dark. She held onto Lee’s arm as they rejoined the group.

“Phone’s dead,” Harry announced, dropping the receiver back into its cradle.

“Do you have any candles?” Nicole asked.

“There’s some in the kitchen on the counter, more in the dining room.” Harry had already moved behind the bar to retrieve another flashlight.

“I’ll check the breaker in the basement, though I doubt it will do any good.” Lee cast a glance to the towering windows overlooking the ocean on the north side. A jagged tongue of lightning forked across the sky, briefly illuminating the night-blackened glass. “From the sound of that storm, the whole grid is probably out.”

“I think you’re right,” Harry agreed, but nodded nonetheless. There was always the possibility of a power surge instead of a complete failure. 

“I’ll help you with the candles,” Alyssa offered, joining Nicole as she headed for the dining room. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see Lee move down the hallway in the direction of the basement. The evening was definitely not turning out the way anyone planned. Still, it had been surprisingly pleasant, even with Lee slightly on edge. Her captain had done a remarkable job of holding his own with Jiggs Starke, but then he’d had a lot of practice.

Hopefully, he’d be able to last until the tree was cleared from the road. With the storm raging the way it was, Alyssa feared the night would be long over before work crews could even start. 

***********

It knew its time was limited, release bought by the crackling power of the storm. For too long it had existed without thought, without need, a weightless extension of dark light and water. Now it had purpose, driven by hunger that was never sated. Dawn lingered below the horizon, scavenger-sniffing at its heels, waiting for the chance to chase it back to its watery tomb.      

It thrived in the deep ocean, burrowing in the hollow places honeycombed beneath the seafloor where light never reached. Utter blackness, shapeless and void. Mostly it slept, waiting to be summoned.

The storm had called, releasing it to hunt.

Freed, it slithered across the sand toward the house jutting in the distance. It sensed warmth and blood inside, a chance to feed and appease its hunger . . . a mind already open and ripe for control.

**********

Brad York heard the door creak open at the top of the basement stairs. He’d done dumb things in his day, but this would go down as the stupidest. Or the gutsiest. Maybe it all depended on viewpoint - - jerk or vindicated psycho.

Oh yeah. He had no illusions. The media would brand him a headcase after all was said and done, but he didn’t give a rat’s ass. He was tired of getting walked on, being invisible, just another lumpy fat guy. The butt of everyone’s jokes. Even his mother had been riding his tail, harping on him to move out and start a relationship. She’d called him pathetic to his face. A forty-three-year-old still living at home, too backward to even talk to a woman. 

But his mother didn’t understand. No one did. 

It wasn’t like he was some pathetic sap. Okay, maybe he got a little tongue-tied and his stomach grew queasy when he was around a pretty girl, but his reluctance with dating had nothing to do with shyness. He’d just been waiting for the right woman. Someone who was worthy, who understood there was more to him then a pasty, pockmarked exterior. He wasn’t a “10” by a long shot, but under the layers of fat and the acne scars on his face, he considered himself a prime catch. That’s why he didn’t waste his time talking up just any bimbo. If he was going to go after a woman, she had to be worth the effort.

For a long time, he’d feared he was destined to live alone, then three months ago he’d found her. The one. He’d landed a plum job as a civilian lab technician at the Nelson Institute of Marine Research. At first, he wasn’t so sure about mixing with Navy-types, but the pay was good and the position carried a measure of prestige. Over time he adjusted, the reclusive science geek rubbing elbows with ego-inflated Naval Reservists. Thank God for the civilian personnel at N.I.M.R. or he might never have stuck it out and would have missed seeing her. She’d breezed in during his first week, meeting Crane for lunch. From the moment she’d smiled at him and said hello, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She haunted his every waking moment and lingered at night in his dreams.

Alyssa Halston.

Even her name made him tingle. Since that initial brief meeting, he’d done everything he could to find out more about her. It amazed him she’d had such a high profile career and he’d been unaware of her all these years. Probably because models were out of his league, society people who lived in another world. One that didn’t include fat lab techs with thinning hair.

But Alyssa was different.

He knew that, could tell by the way she’d smiled at him and made a point to say hello whenever she saw him at N.I.M.R. If he could just work up the nerve to profess his love, he was positive she would feel the same way. They were destined to be together. He’d even dreamed about their future three nights in a row. It was the sign that finally convinced him to take matters into his own hands.

He knew she was romantically involved with Lee Crane but was willing to overlook the indiscretion. He’d even spied on them, staking out Crane’s house. He could still remember the night he’d slipped onto the beach, the sky black as soot, a cold ocean breeze scattering the thinning wisps of his strawberry hair. He’d crouched behind a dune with a land telescope, angling for a view through Crane’s balcony doors. He’d watched the house long enough to know which room was the master bedroom. Even now his mouth grew dry, his palms sweaty and hot when he remembered watching them make love. Later, they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, and he’d stayed on the beach, letting the cold night air turn him colder still.

He’d wanted to kill her that night, convinced she’d betrayed him, but he’d been too much of a coward. In time he’d come to realize she wasn’t to blame for her infidelity. It was Crane’s fault - - mister-bigshot-captain-of-the-Seaview with his damn movie star looks, flashy car and high-level job. He’d already slashed the bastard’s tires before skirting the house and slipping in through the basement’s French doors. He’d waited until the last guest had arrived, the female marine biologist, Dr. Rook. 

Two weeks ago he’d overhead Crane and Alyssa talking about the dinner party while having lunch at a place called Scrimshaw Jack’s. It was easy to spy on them at the small pub where he could fade into the usual crowd, one more average Joe looking for a burger and a beer.

Once he’d learned of the party, he’d decided it would be the place to make his stand - - to kill Crane and take Alyssa for himself. 

Nelson’s house, like Crane’s, wasn’t without security measures, but both men tended to be lax about them. Before anyone arrived he’d seen Nelson exit through the French doors on the basement level to deposit trash in the back. It was a stroke of luck when the phone rang, distracting him. Rushed, he hadn’t bothered locking the door when he returned inside.

Even then, Brad had lingered, skulking under the deck, watching as Crane and Alyssa arrived. He listened to the group up above, laughing and talking as the night wore on, no one aware he could hear every word.  

He’d fondled the snub-nosed .38 in his pocket, trying to work up the nerve to use it. He wouldn’t harm all of them, just Crane. With the sub captain out of the way there was nothing to stop Alyssa from running off with him. If the others got in the way, he’d have to kill them too. It was that simple.

Except he was a freaking coward, too much of a gutless weakling to follow through with his plan. Eventually, the rain had driven him inside, and he’d huddled in the basement, trying to work up his nerve.   

It wasn’t a basement in the sense of dark and dingy. Nelson had finished off the lower level of his home with wainscoting and carpet. There were couches, chairs and tables - - bulky silhouettes in the darkness, each hulking shape seeming to mock him for his weakness. French doors and windows overlooked the beach and dune break, back-lit by the sporadic strobe of lightning.

Brad turned back to the door, feeling his conviction wane. Then something cold crept over him, slithering into his veins. A presence unlike anything he’d ever felt invaded his mind, hungry and commanding, thirsty for blood. It wanted to feed. To taste pain and fear, releasing a dark malevolence like the storm itself.  

Yes.

How very simple. He could hear someone descending the steps, saw the yellow cone of a flashlight sweep across the floor. Ducking, he crouched behind a leather sofa and pulled the .38 from his pocket. For the first time in his life, he knew calm and assurance.

A tall silhouette hesitated at the bottom of the stairs.

Crane.

Brad smiled thinly.

He would wait.

Then he would pull the trigger.

**********

Lee paused at the bottom of the basement steps, listening as the wind shrieked outside. The lightning was almost constant now, a rapid flicker of blue-white like the strobing flash of a disco ball. Every now and then a jagged bolt split the sky from end to end, capped by a raucous boom of thunder.

He started to move toward the breaker box on the far wall when an unnatural feeling of cold crept over him. He frowned, overcome by the sudden sensation of being watched. It was almost as if some thing, a presence not entirely human, lurked in the shadows. 

He stopped short, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Turning, he swept the beam of the flashlight into the corner where the darkness was thickest. A gust of wind and rain rattled the French doors.

“Who’s there?”

He felt foolish for calling out, but the presence was so strong it left him certain he wasn’t alone. He heard a low chuckle followed by a rustling sound. In the next second a flash of lightning illuminated the room like daybreak. 

Lee blinked against the sudden glare. He had a fleeting impression of a man standing by the sofa, his skin doughy and cadaver-white in the darkness. The man’s features were familiar, but his expression had twisted into something disturbingly ghoulish.

“Brad?” In the second it took Lee to recognize N.I.M.R.’s newest lab tech, he saw the glint of a revolver. There was no time to think or react. The weapon exploded, spitting a burst of flame from the barrel. The blast was swallowed in an earsplitting clap of thunder, the crack of gun and storm, a demon-howl in Lee’s head. He felt the bullet bludgeon into his side, tossing him backward. 

He grunted at the impact, agony boomeranging from his gut to his hip. His back struck the floor with a jolt that sent his ears ringing. Pain washed over him, sucking his breath away. He was vaguely aware of the flashlight rolling from his limp fingers, the cushiony press of carpet against his shoulders. Lightning flared brighter, but his vision was already fading, his head rolling to the side.

Someone loomed over him and toed him in the ribs. 

“She’s mine now,” a cold voice said.

He moaned, his consciousness dwindling. Then there was only darkness and the guttural rumble of thunder as the light vanished altogether.

**********

Alyssa lit another candle and added it to the bar. She and Nicole had spotted several throughout the Great room, placing most by the sofa and chairs or on the wet bar. A flickering topaz glow spread from the wax pillars, creating a small circle of light. Beyond the halo, darkness nested in the corners, creeping close to the fringe. Every now and then someone moved and a shadow leapt alive, dancing into the candles’ glow like a creature conjured from some fey otherworld. 

The storm was making her jumpy. Severe weather didn’t usually bother her, but she couldn’t shake a growing feeling of anxiety. Maybe it was just the relentless crash of wind and thunder combined with darkness and candlelight. Another time she might have thought the setting romantic, but instead found herself thinking about things-that-go-bump-in-the-night. All they needed was a Ouija board to create the proverbial setting for a spooky movie.  

She frowned in the direction of the hallway, wishing Lee would return. “I wonder what’s keeping Lee,” she said to Nicole.

Outside, a deafening clap of thunder rattled the house from top to bottom. Alyssa jumped in reaction, parting with a startled squeak. She felt foolish for the bout of nerves until she realized she wasn’t the only one on edge.

“It’s just thunder,” Nicole told her with a jittery smile, but she’d paled considerably, obviously shaken.

At her side, Harry scowled. “Something’s wrong. That didn’t sound right.”

“What do you mean it didn’t ‘sound’ right?” Alyssa tried not to read too much into the unusual statement. Maybe there’d been a lightning strike nearby and a tree had shattered. She hoped none of the homes in the area had been struck.

If only Lee would finish and return from the basement. She’d feel better with him at her side. She knew it was only a storm, but the intensity was far too violent, unusual for the area and time of year. Nicole’s earlier remark about malevolence, combined with Harry’s strange comment, had the tiny hairs on her arms prickling. 

“Harry?” She gazed at him worriedly, noting he stared in the direction of the hallway.

“It almost sounded like a gunshot,” he mumbled, more to himself than her.

“What?” Alyssa’s heart lurched. “Harry, Lee hasn’t come back yet.”

He glanced at her sharply.

Seated on the sofa, Jiggs waved the observation aside. “Don’t go dreaming up trouble where there isn’t any.” He’d poured himself another Scotch and soda and had made himself comfortable, one arm stretched over the backrest behind him. “I’ve been in squalls a lot worst than this. So has Harry. Your captain too, Ali. The storm is just making a lot of racket.”

As if on cue thunder roared again and lightning zigzagged across the sky. Still looking toward the hall, Alyssa caught a ripple of movement. Her first thought was that Lee was returning, instant relief that brought a smile to her face. Then just as swiftly her hope deflated, cold fear flooding her veins. Before she could warn the others, a man stepped from the hallway into the Great room, one hand wrapped snuggly around a snub-nosed revolver.

“Don’t anyone move,” he announced in a menacing voice. A voice as cruelly malicious as his pale, wintry eyes.  

He was much shorter than Lee, his body flabby with excess layers of flesh. It took her a moment to dredge up his name from memory - - Brad York. She’d talked to him a few times at the Institute, polite conversation when she was waiting for Lee. Normally, he was backward, socially inept, his whole demeanor exuding awkwardness. But that discomfort was absent now, his face a callous mask, the stony flint of his eyes unrecognizable. 

“York?” Harry sounded incredulous.

Behind him, Jiggs came to his feet.

Brad swiveled the gun on the taller man. “I said don’t move. I’ve only used one bullet so far. There are five more in the chamber. One for each of you if it comes to that.”

Alyssa didn’t want to think about the bullet he’d already expended. She wondered if anyone else had caught that slip. Nervously, she bit her bottom lip, worried by Lee’s continued absence. It was hard to equate the skittish lab tech she knew from N.I.M.R. with the ruthless gunman standing several feet away.

“What are you doing in my home?” Harry demanded. “With a gun?” 

“Correcting an oversight I should have fixed months ago.” Brad glanced toward Alyssa, an oily smile curving his lips. “She knows why I’m here.”

She stared at him dumbfounded, certain she’d heard wrong. Had the man mistaken her for someone else? She had no idea what he was talking about. “Brad. I don’t  . . . I don’t know what you mean.”

Angrily, he motioned with the gun. “Come over here.”

“Don’t move,” Harry told her, never taking his eyes from Brad.

Frightened, she hesitated.

“Come over here now.” The command was sharp, merciless. “Unless you want me to pump a bullet into Nelson.”

“No! Don’t!” She might have once thought him harmless, even timid, but the cruel vindictiveness of his eyes told her that Brad no longer existed. She did as he demanded, Lee’s continued absence wearing heavily on her mind.

“That’s better.” He smiled when she stepped to his side, but the grin was unbalanced, sadistic. In the flickering dance of candlelight his features were contorted, macabre in appearance. “I’ve waited a long time for the two of us to be together. You don’t have to pretend anymore. I took care of Crane.”

Alyssa felt her heart plummet. “What are you talking about?”

“Us.” He lifted a hand to her cheek but dropped it before touching her, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “You’ve always known we were meant to be together. I watched you with Crane. Spied on the two of you . . . watched you make love . . .”  

“Brad. God!” Her stomach turned. She felt sick, violated.

“I know you didn’t really love him. He forced you to do those things. Horrible, filthy things.”

He touched you, kissed you. The bastard debased you...”

She shook her head violently, backing away. “You’re sick.”

He grabbed her arm, clamping his fingers just below her shoulder, locking her in place. She tried to twist free but his grip was punishing, bruising her flesh. “Don’t deny it. You’ve always loved me!”

“No!” Alyssa feared she would vomit. His touch made her skin crawl. The man was insane. The limelight exposed her to such fixations, but she’d been fortunate enough to avoid anything so depraved throughout her career. “What have you done with Lee?” she demanded.

“Lee?” Brad sneered the name. “Forget Captain Perfect. I plugged him with a bullet and left him to bleed to death in the basement.”

The blood drained from Alyssa’s face. Anger knifed through her, crushing her fear. “You bastard!” She struck him with all the fury she could muster, rocking his head to the side. 

Harry surged forward but Brad pivoted, thrusting the gun into his face. “Go ahead, Nelson. Try it. I’d like nothing better than to take you out too.”

Trapped, Harry ground his teeth. “You better pray Lee Crane is alive, you son-of-a-bitch.”

Alyssa could feel the edge of his rage, crackling like a live wire in the room. Harry was far more than Lee’s boss and superior officer. The thought of the younger man in danger would make him merciless, even reckless, his only thought for Lee’s safety. For both their sakes she prayed Brad was lying yet, deep in her heart, she feared Lee’s absence. If he were dead, her life was over.

“How could you even think I’d be attracted to a pitiful wretch like you?” she spat.

“Stop!” Brad wrenched on her arm, yanking her closer. “You’re emotional . . . confused. I’ll overlook it this time, but fight me and I won’t be responsible for what I do.” 

“Big man, aren’t you?” Starke snarled from his position near the sofa. “Threatening a woman with a gun. Why don’t you put that tinker toy down and let me take a crack at you?”

Brad’s lip curled. “I’m not an idiot. Everyone needs to stop playing hero.”

Alyssa knew he was right. Between Harry, Starke and the excess testosterone pinging around the room, someone was bound to get hurt. It wouldn’t do them any good, and it certainly wouldn’t help Lee. That, more than anything, was all that mattered.

She closed her eyes, hating herself, hating Brad. She was empty inside, burned raw of all emotion save desperation and grief. Her tears came harder as she thought of the man she loved lying wounded, possibly dead. She’d tell Brad whatever he wanted to hear as long as it helped Lee. “Don’t hurt them Brad and I’ll go with you.”

Caught off guard he balked at the suggestion but, his confusion was fleeting, delight quickly replacing surprise. She had him hooked. All she had to do was reel him in.

“I’ll go where you want . . . do what you want. But you have to let me check on Lee first.”

“I knew it’s what you wanted!” He seemed unconcerned by her abrupt turnaround, even less aware that she’d mentioned Lee. It only helped reinforce how dangerously unstable he was. For him, the triumph lay in her concession. Anxiously, he licked his lips. “You’ll go with me? Stay with me?”

Her gut instinct was to recoil, but she nodded, desperate for the chance to make sure Lee was alive. To get him help. From the corner of her eye she glimpsed a streak of movement and raised her head.

Surprise and relief flooded through her, spurred by the sudden break of shadows in the hallway.

***********

Lee struggled back to consciousness with a groan. The first thing he became aware of was a rapid camera-flash of lightning turning the ceiling from black to white then black again. It took a second longer for the pain to hit, the sudden paroxysm like a hot knife through his side. He leveraged up on one arm, cupping his free hand to the mangled flesh below his ribs. The reek of gunpowder and sulfur lingered in the air, resurrecting a foggy memory of Brad York. He could feel a heated track of blood plastering his shirt to his skin, seeping below his belt, sluicing lower over his hip. 

Swallowing back nausea, Lee climbed unsteadily to his feet. He swayed off balance and pressed his fingertips to his forehead. The shock of what had taken place slowly penetrated. He had no idea what Brad was doing in Nelson’s home or why the usually reserved lab tech had turned unexplainably murderous. All that concerned him was the sickening realization that Alyssa and his friends were upstairs, and Brad was unhinged enough to go on a killing spree.

Clumsily, he bent and scooped the flashlight from the floor. He kept the beam switched off, relying on his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The room bobbled, and he staggered toward the stairs, fresh blood soaking through the cottony weave of his shirt. The floor tilted on end, threatening to buckle his knees. He clamped a hand on the banister to hold himself upright, lurching toward the hallway above. Beyond the walls the wind gusted fiercely, buffeting the house. He had no idea how long he’d lain unconscious but clung to the hope he wasn’t too late. His grip was slippery on the long barrel of the flashlight, his fingers slick with blood. The heavy light was the only weapon he had.

Determined, he cracked open the door at the top of the stairs and crept toward the Great Room.

**********

Lee heard Brad’s voice as he neared the bend in the hallway. 

“He forced you to do those things. Horrible filthy things.”

He leaned into the wall trying to make sense of the conversation. As the voices continued, his mind muddled through the obvious. Brad York was not only unbalanced, he was obsessed with Alyssa. That abnormal and misguided fixation had driven him to attempt to kill Lee. In his delusion, Brad believed Alyssa was in love with him.

He heard the crack of an open palm against flesh. 

“How could you even think I’d be attracted to a pitiful wretch like you?” There was pain and rage in Alyssa’s voice, an underlying struggle as she fought with tears. Lee inched closer until he was only a handful of feet behind Brad. He’d kill the bastard if he hurt her. Caught up in his delirium, the lab tech never saw him.

“I’ll go where you want . . . do what you want. But you have to let me check on Lee first,” Alyssa was saying. He could see the bright sheen of tears trapped in her eyes, the glimmer reflected and magnified by candlelight. 

Tightening his grip on the flashlight, he hefted it like a club. Alyssa spied him almost immediately and, a second later, the others did too. Alerted by a change in his hostages, Brad started to turn.

Lee never gave him the chance to follow through, cracking the flashlight across the back of his neck. Stunned, the smaller man dropped like a sack of stone to the floor. Harry bolted forward to grab his gun even as Lee stumbled off balance. He sagged into the nearest chair, clutching the upholstered back to keep himself upright. 

“Lee!” Alyssa slid under his arm, using her shoulder to steady him. She splayed a hand flat against his chest, searching his face with wide, frightened eyes. “Brad said he shot...” Her voice broke off when she registered the dark splotch of blood covering his side. “Dear God, he wasn’t lying.” She choked back a strangled sound. “Let me help you to the couch.”

“I’m all right, Lyss.” She was trembling badly but he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or spent adrenalin. He tightened his arm around her neck and hooked her closer, pressing his lips to her hair. “It’s all right,” he assured softly. “It’s over now. I’m going to be fine.”

He didn’t feel fine, but there was a storm raging outside, the road was closed, and they were without power and phone. He’d survive, but he needed to keep his wits about him. The sticky wetness on the back of his shirt told him the bullet had only clipped his side rather than burrowing in his gut. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but a messy one. 

“We don’t have to worry about York regaining consciousness,” Nelson announced, crouched on the floor. He was bent over Brad, two fingers pressed to the pulse point in the beefy man’s neck. Slowly, he stood, the .38 hanging limply from his fingers. “He’s dead.”

“But I didn’t hit him that hard,” Lee protested. He’d been angry but hadn’t intended to kill the man. Just incapacitate him. Years of training with ONI had taught him the difference between a fatal stroke and a debilitating blow. He’d definitely used the latter.

“You hit him hard enough,” Nelson countered.

“Serves the S.O.B. right.” Starke stepped closer, scowling down at the body. “He put a bullet in you, Crane, and God only knows what he would have done to Ali.”  

Lee didn’t want to think about that. He’d been in the background long enough to overhear Brad tell Alyssa he’d watched them make love. As obsessed as the lab tech had been, that ugly violation was probably nothing compared to the liberties he would have taken later. Sickened by the knowledge, he kept her pressed close to his side. He suppressed a shudder, unable to understand why the room suddenly felt so cold. 

“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” 

“No.” Alyssa tilted her head back to stare up at him, her eyes still wet with tears. “Please sit down. You’re scaring me.”

“Listen to her, lad,” Harry ordered. “We need to do something about that wound.” Stepping closer, he squeezed Lee’s arm. “You have no idea what was going through my head when York said he shot you. I know you’re going to tell me you’re fine, but ...”

“I’m just cold, Admiral,” Lee interrupted, honest about his health for a change. The chill in the room felt unnatural, yet no one else seemed disturbed by it. Nelson’s hand on his arm was a searing band of heat for which he was thankful. He saw the older man frown.

“We’ll get you fixed up. Or Lydia will.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “Lydia?”

“Just do what she tells you. In the meantime let Ali help you to the couch. Jiggs and I will move York’s body into the den. Nicole...” He switched his attention to the marine biologist. “There should be some first aid supplies in the guest bathroom upstairs.”

She nodded, already grabbing a candle from the bar and heading for the front stairwell.

“I’ll get some towels and water,” Lydia inserted, disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

Lee forced a small smile at Alyssa. “I guess I know how to clear a room.”

She overlooked the quip, guiding him to the sofa. Behind him, he could hear Nelson and Starke grunting under the bulk of Brad’s weight as they carried his body to the den. Strength spent, Lee folded onto the couch, conceding to the growing tremor in his muscles. Alyssa stumbled to a seat beside him, trying to support his weight even as he dragged her down.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. A draft of cold air seeped closer, snuffling around him like a living thing. He felt the abnormal chill creep into his bones.

“Don’t apologize.” Alyssa pressed a hand to his face. “You look so pale, Lee.”

“Do you feel that?” he asked.

She watched him quizzically, her eyes bright and worried. “Feel what?”

“Something else in the room . . .” The same feeling he’d had in the basement returned, stronger than before. He was too fatigued to sort it out, his mind tripping over the thoughts, his body numb. His eyes dropped to Alyssa’s arm where he suddenly noticed four livid marks slashed across her skin. Anger rocketed through him.

“He did hurt you.”

Her eyes fell to the marks left by Brad’s fingers. She hadn’t even felt them, too focused on Lee and the grisly red patch soaking his shirt. She hadn’t exactly lived a sheltered life, but she’d never seen anyone with a bullet wound and certainly never someone she loved. “It’s nothing. Quit worrying about me.” She skimmed her hand over his brow, smoothing his bangs aside. She expected him to feel warm given the gleam of sweat clinging to his cheekbones, but his skin was icy. Fearing he was going into shock, she began unbuttoning his shirt. “The bullet...”

“ ...is gone.” Lee caught her hand. “It clipped me in the side, Lyss. It’s not that bad, it just stings like hell and it’s messy. I guess I can thank my lucky stars York is a lousy shot.”

She sighed, the sudden release of pent up fear leaving her limp and shaking. She lowered her eyes, fearful of fresh tears as she continued to work at his shirt. “Maybe it just clipped you, but we need to get the bleeding under control.” She glanced up in time to see Lydia return from the kitchen with a large bowl of water and a handful of towels. 

“This should help,” the older woman said, setting her collection on the coffee table. She frowned down at Lee in a surprisingly matronly way. “Young man, you have a knack for attracting trouble. Harry’s told me that before, but I didn’t believe him. You realize this was supposed to be a simple dinner party?”

Lee started to protest his innocence, but she smiled and shooed the objection aside. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen much worse. You probably didn’t know I used to be a nurse. Why do you think I was doing a fund raiser for a hospital in the first place?” She switched her attention to Alyssa. “I know you want to hover over him, dear, but I think I’m better equipped to deal with the situation. Besides ...” This time her smile was teasing, slicing through and easing the tension. “...I’ll finally get his shirt off.”

Alyssa gave a choked laugh, uncertain whether she wanted to rejoice or cry. Fortune had certainly blessed them by supplying a nurse. She bent forward to kiss Lee, then ducked out of Lydia’s way. By then Nicole had returned from the bathroom with a supply of bandages and a first aid kit. Harry and Jiggs followed shortly afterward, and the room was once again filled with the support of friends. 

Alyssa did her best not to hover while Lydia cleaned and bandaged Lee’s wound. She helped gather candles, placing most on the coffee table and end tables for additional light. Lydia packed the wound with cotton and gauze then taped the dressing in place. She offered him some Tylenol from the med kit and Alyssa fetched a glass of water from the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to swallow the pills dry. When Lydia was through, Nicole helped the older woman clean up the bloody squares of gauze she had used to swab and cleanse the wound. Alyssa found she couldn’t even look at them without feeling queasy. It was hard to be indifferent knowing it was Lee’s blood that darkened the filmy white material.

She watched as he slipped back into his blood-stained shirt, allowing it to hang open over his belt. The fabric had already started to dry, stiff with caked blood. There was blood on his pants too, soaked into the crease of his leg. She knew it had dripped from the wound in his side, but the sight kept her tension high. 

“There’s a bedroom off the den,” she told him worriedly. “You should lie down and try to get some rest. It’s only a little after 11:00 and who knows how long it will take for the phone to work again or crews to clear the road.” If they’ve even started, she added mentally, frightened by the pessimistic thought. Lee looked pale. Despite his insistence the wound wasn’t bad, she saw pain reflected in his eyes.

“I’m fine, Alyssa. Just cold.” He held out his hand to her so she’d join him on the couch. 

She bit her lip. “Harry, do you have...”

“ ...a blanket. Got it.” He was already halfway across the Great room by the time she eased onto the couch next to Lee. 

“Anyone know how York got in?” Nicole asked. “He seemed pretty singular in his lunacy. I doubt there’s an accomplice lurking around, but if there’s a window or door that isn’t secure, it might be a good idea to fasten it.” Her voice dropped noticeably. “Even if it is just against the storm.”

The storm.

Alyssa remained unnerved by the weather. There was something wrong with the way the storm sounded, the wail of wind almost human as it moaned against the gables of the house.

“York was already in the basement when I went down,” Lee answered Nicole’s question. “I didn’t see how he got in.”

“I’ll check,” Jiggs volunteered. He grabbed a flashlight and headed from the room just as Harry returned with a heavy down quilt and two pillows.

“I thought you could use these too, lad.” Harry arranged the pillows on the couch in the event Lee wanted to cushion his back. “There’s nothing wrong with falling asleep out here, but I think you’d be far more comfortable in the bedroom.”

Lee flushed at the attention. “I’ll be fine. Sir.” He accepted the quilt gratefully. “I appreciate your concern but...”

“I know. You could do without all the fuss.” Nelson grinned. “Might as well get used to it, Captain. Until this storm lets up, you’re guaranteed to be the center of attention.”

“I wish we had a way of knowing when it’s going to break,” Nicole worried aloud. She eyed the towering front windows apprehensively. “Have you noticed how it sounds . . . the wind and the rain? Almost like the storm is alive.”

Alyssa felt her skin crawl. She didn’t want to admit it, but she’d been thinking much the same thing. “If you’re trying to be mysterious and ominous, it’s working.” She positioned the pillows at Lee’s back so he could lean into them while sitting up.

“Nic looks for the metaphysical angle in everything,” he told her, dragging the quilt closer. She couldn’t help remembering earlier, he too, had mentioned feeling the presence of ‘something’ in the room. What she wouldn’t give to see sunlight and put the ugly night behind them.

“I thought after your experience with the golden broom coral you’d be more receptive to the abstract,” Nicole commented. Lee looked at her sharply and something unspoken passed between them.

Alyssa didn’t understand Nicole’s reference, but knew the marine biologist had worked closely with Seaview and the Institute on the exploration of a cold water reef containing fossilized coral several months ago. It was after that particular voyage that Harry and Nicole had become romantically involved. Alyssa knew something unusual had occurred while Lee was at sea, but he hadn’t talked about it and she hadn’t pressed the issue, respecting his privacy.

He closed his eyes tiredly, parting with a defeated sigh. “You might be right this time.”

Alyssa flinched. “Lee, you’re not suggesting there’s something unnatural about the storm?”

“If we’re going to consider that possibility,” Lydia spoke up from her seat on the adjacent couch, “then I have to admit it’s been working on my nerves. I’m glad Jiggs isn’t around to hear me say it, but it feels unnatural.”

Alyssa bit back a groan. “Not you too?” She looked hopefully to Harry, but he shook his head.

“I’ve seen too much happen, Ali, to discount the paranormal. In this case, however, I think we’re all letting our imaginations get away from us. We had an armed intruder in the house, Lee’s been shot, the road is closed, and we’re without power and phone. It’s easy to start imagining ghosts behind every corner.”

“So that’s what you think it’s about?” Lydia prompted. “Ghosts?”

“Who’s discussing ghosts?” Jiggs asked, catching the tail end of their conversation as he returned from the basement. His jacket was wet with a pattern of raindrops and his voice seemed overly loud, shattering the tense atmosphere that had settled over the group. 

“We were discussing the storm, Jiggs,” Harry explained. He moved behind the bar and poured himself a shot of Scotch. “What did you find in the basement?”

“Blood.” He cast a glance at Lee.

Alyssa gave an involuntary cry, prompting Lydia to shake her head.

“That certainly wasn’t the most sensitive thing you could have said.”

 “What? The man got shot.” He bristled defensively. “What did you think I was going to find?”

“I meant how did York get inside?” Harry clarified. Alyssa noticed his mouth had tightened at Jiggs’ answer. He obviously agreed with Lydia’s assessment of her husband’s blunt reply. 

“The French doors were unlocked,” Jiggs said, oblivious to Harry’s disapproval. “I found a couple of cigarette butts on the back patio. I think the bastard probably stood down there for awhile, listening to us when we were on the deck.”

Alyssa scuffed her hands against her arms, fighting off a chill. “What a creep.”

“I still say I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him,” Lee mumbled. He looked tired, his eyes heavy, his skin icy to the touch. Alyssa huddled under the quilt with him, hoping her body heat would keep him warm. It worried her he couldn’t shake the chill.

“Lee, you were angry . . . worried about Ali,” Harry countered. “You probably struck with more force than you thought.”

“You’re forgetting my ONI training, Sir. I wouldn’t make that kind of mistake.”

“Maybe the wretched man just had a bad heart,” Lydia suggested.

“I’m more inclined to fault the storm,” Nicole inserted, adding her opinion. Almost as one the group looked in her direction.

“Why is everyone so focused on a bunch of wind and rain?” Jiggs blustered. “By God, you’d think none of you had ever seen lightning before.” As if to punctuate his remark a vivid blue-white bolt streaked across the sky.

Alyssa let out a pent-up breath. “Okay, that was just a little too coincidental, don’t you think?”

“I’d say it was perfectly timed.” Nicole wandered closer to the windows. “Is everyone familiar with the concept of elementals?”

“Elements?” Jiggs echoed.

“No, Admiral Starke. I was speaking of an elemental.” Nicole turned to face him, stressing the last syllable. “The belief in nature spirits is one of man’s oldest, dating back to the Paleolithic age.”

Lydia, at least, seemed intrigued. “You’re talking about earth, fire, wind and water beings?”

“More or less, but the belief is more complex than that. Elementals are a lower form of nature spirits and can inhabit most anything - - deserts, stars, trees, mountains, minerals, rivers - - even the hours of the day.”

“Or a storm?” Alyssa guessed.

Nicole nodded. “An elemental can be helpful, mischievous or dangerous depending on its mood. There is no right or wrong to such a being, only degrees of temperament.” She bit her lip. “I think the storm has inadvertently summoned something malicious. Something that’s been asleep for a long time, and I think it’s here in the house.”

Alyssa gave a choked laugh, half disbelieving, half fearful. “Nicole...”

“All right, I think that’s enough of this discussion,” Harry interrupted, holding up a hand. “Let’s just concentrate on reality rather than branching into theory.”

The idea suited Alyssa fine. As much as she liked Nicole, she didn’t want her friend adding to her already heightened anxiety by putting ideas of sinister beings in her head. She was already numb with worry about Lee. She shifted her attention to him, surprised to realize he’d fallen asleep, slumped against her shoulder.

Harry noticed too, frowning noticeably. “I wish the stubborn fool had gone back to the bedroom like I told him to.”

“At least he’s asleep,” Alyssa said quietly, gently smoothing her hand through his bangs. Outside the storm roared and howled its displeasure, showing no signs of abating. Rain battered the windows as thunder and lightning twined in a raucous dance of deafening sound and strobing light.

Alyssa heaved a mental sigh. It was going to be a long night.

**********

The body was useless, empty and devoid of life. Its presence had weakened an already feeble heart. It would need a new host, a chance to satiate its hunger before dawn drove it back to a bleak prison beneath the ocean floor.  

 The human had helped appease its gluttonous need for aggression. Dark emotions were almost as seductively tempting as blood. It had fed on the man’s hatred and lust, growing stronger while he weakened. By nature, humans were fragile, not able to withstand its presence for more than a few hours. Captivity had made it ravenous, its only desire to gorge itself on suffering. Ice and cold clung to it, the depravity of violence and fear. The fat human hadn’t even begun to satisfy its appetite. It craved blood, the sugary secretion of life.

There was plenty of that heady elixir where the humans gathered, some already spilled. The scent excited and enticed it, made it restless to feed. The wounded human was young and strong, ensuring he would linger until dawn chased it back to its tomb.

This one was better than the first.

This one would make a feast.

**********

Harry grabbed a flashlight and paced into the kitchen. There really wasn’t anything he wanted in the room except to stand in solitude before the doors exiting to the deck. Sporadic flashes of lightning illuminated the beach below, turning the dune breaks into silent, brooding sentinels. The vicious chop of wind over water made the surf foam white against the shoreline, a ragged crest, visible for only a second before darkness claimed the sky.

Harry switched off the flashlight, conserving the batteries. In the adjacent room he could hear the soft murmur of conversation. Even Jiggs had stepped down from his usual trumpet-like cadence so he wouldn’t awaken Lee. The last Harry had checked, his injured captain was stretched out on the couch, his head pillowed in Ali’s lap. She’d wanted him to lie down in the bedroom, but he’d been groggy, too drowsy to move. Lydia had inspected his wound, pleased there was no seepage through the bandage. Afterward, Lee had promptly fallen asleep again, complaining only of a chill in the room. Surprisingly, he didn’t appear to have a fever.

Several hours had now passed with a sleepy Lydia traipsing upstairs to bed. Jiggs, who had done countless all-nighters through the course of his career, promised to call her if she was needed to tend to Lee. It was after 2:00 in the morning, but dawn still felt a long way off.

Agitated, Harry scuffed a hand through his hair. He’d been kicking himself ever since he realized he’d left the French doors off the basement unlocked. If not for that foolish oversight, York never would have gained entrance to his home, and Lee wouldn’t be fighting a bullet wound. Thankfully, the slug had blundered through rather than embedding in his side but, without proper medical assistance, there was always the chance of infection, fever or worse. Lydia had done what she could - - she was certainly the most skilled among them - - but Harry couldn’t help fretting over Lee’s condition. The longer the captain slept the better. If only the damn phones would come back online. He’d certainly never expected a simple dinner party to warp into such a calamitous nightmare.

An amber glow intruded into the darkness, scattering his thoughts. He turned to see Nicole slide a candle onto the countertop. 

“You’ve been in here a long time,” she observed.

They hadn’t said much recently and he felt badly for that, but he hadn’t wanted her scaring Ali with tales of storm spirits and vindictive elementals. His ex was already on edge, worried over her young lover, a man Harry had come to think of as a son. If he were honest, the tangled knot in his gut told him his own nerves were every bit as stretched and raw.

“I needed quiet. Some time to think.”

“About what?” Nicole joined him by the doors overlooking the beach. In the half-glow of candlelight and darkness, her face was partially hidden by shadow.  

“I’m worried about Lee,” he admitted, looking back toward the ocean. The whole rear wall of the kitchen was mostly glass, comprised of towering floor-to-ceiling windows and triple French doors. Lightning blazed across the sky, washing the beach in a burst of eerie white light. Another time he might have thought the dramatic vista breathtaking, now it just felt disturbing.     

“I suppose I didn’t help the situation, talking about elementals and nature spirits,” Nicole consented.

He was hard pressed to disagree. By the same token, the last time she’d warned of something not entirely human, he’d made the critical mistake of disbelieving. That error had almost cost him his life, then later Lee’s life as a substitute sacrifice.

“I’d never discredit you, Nicole.” More than that, he’d come to care for her. How deeply was still in debate, but there was no question he’d grown emotionally involved. That she was an independent thinker only heightened his attraction to her. Gifted and brilliant in her chosen field but, she also had a keen appreciation for the metaphysical. He wouldn’t make the foolish mistake of being skeptical again.

“You really think there’s something unnatural about the storm?”

“Not just unnatural.” Her mouth tightened a fraction. “I think the severity of it has allowed the release of something ancient. An elemental from the deep ocean, beneath the earth. I sense  . . .” She struggled to form her thoughts coherently. “. . . a presence. I think Lee does too. That’s why he’s so cold, so tired. I’m afraid this spirit has singled him out because he’s wounded.”

Harry felt a twinge of defensiveness. “Nicole, he’s been shot. Of course he’s cold and tired. I’m surprised he isn’t running a fever.”

She was about to protest again when a cry from the next room cut her short. He heard Alyssa scream, then the sound of her voice raised in alarm, bordering on hysteria:  “Help him!”

Harry switched on the flashlight and bolted for the doorway, Nicole clinging to his heels. The sight in the Great room seemed almost surreal. Lee was on the floor by the couch, his eyes rolled back in his head, whites exposed. His body jerked with convulsions, arms and legs flailing violently. Jiggs had him by the shoulders trying to hold him still while Alyssa pinned his legs.

“Get Lydia,” Harry barked at Nicole then shoved Alyssa out of the way. “What happened?” He clamped his hands on Lee’s calves, trying to restrain him.

“Hell if I know.” Jiggs spared a hasty glance over his shoulder. “He was sound asleep, then for no reason started jerking around like a live wire. Has he ever had a seizure before?”

“No.” Even in the limited glow of firelight Harry could see fresh blood on Lee’s bandages where the wound had broken open. Lee thrashed, his head rolling side-to-side, heels drumming the floor. He knew the younger man wasn’t epileptic. The seizure made no sense. Could the trauma of being shot have triggered it? “Lee!” 

“Don’t hold him!” he heard Lydia call suddenly. 

She rushed into the room, trailed by Nicole. Dressed in a cream-colored bathrobe, hair disheveled, she’d clearly been awakened from sleep. “Don’t restrain him. We need to wait it out. She grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and thrust it at Jiggs. “Here, put this under his head. It will help protect him.”

“But we have to do something,” Alyssa protested, panic in her voice.

Lydia kept her attention focused on Harry and Jiggs. “Roll him onto his side. It will keep his airway open. And don’t worry, he can’t swallow his tongue.” She looked quickly to Alyssa, hoping the information would calm her. “Despite what you may have heard, that’s a fallacy. He’s going to be fine, dear.”

Alyssa gave a wracking sob, pressing a hand to her mouth. With Jiggs’ help, Harry eased Lee onto his side. Behind him, Nicole looped an arm around Alyssa’s shoulders, trying to comfort her.

“He’s going to be all right,” she whispered encouragingly. 

Harry wasn’t so sure. He took a step backward and dragged a hand over his mouth. He’d known Lee to have experienced physical trauma more severe than he had tonight without an acute reaction. Was it possible his body had finally reached a limit? A breaking point where it could no longer tolerate abuse and suffering without serious consequence? The thought made him sick. A step behind him, Alyssa continued to sob quietly.

A second later it was over. Lee stilled, his body at rest. His skin had grayed but otherwise he seemed to be merely asleep.

“Thank God,” Alyssa cried, pulling away from Nicole. 

Harry grabbed her before she could reach Lee’s side. “Wait a minute.”

She looked ready to snap a protest when Lee blinked groggily and struggled to sit up. Dazed, he braced his back against the sofa and stared up at them with a bewildered expression. “What happened? Why  . . . why am I on the floor?” He raked a shaky hand through his hair. “And why are all of you...”

Alyssa’s sob of relief cut short anything else he might have said. Harry released her, and she crumpled to the floor, flinging her arms around Lee’s neck. 

“Alyssa?” Confused, Lee tried to force her to look at him. “Why are you crying?”

“His wound is bleeding again,” Lydia spoke to no one in particular.

Harry nodded. He’d been thinking much the same thing. “Jiggs, help me get him back to the bedroom.” Quickly, he shifted his attention to Lee, fully expecting a protest. “You’ll get your explanations later, Commander. Right now we need to take care of that wound, so you’ll do as you’re told. That’s an order.”

“But Admiral...”

“Please, Lee.” Alyssa sat back, one hand lodged on his shoulder. “Do as Harry says.”

Gently, he thumbed tears from her cheek. “I . . .I’m not sure I can stand,” he admitted reluctantly. “My legs feel odd . . . shaky and weak.”

If he didn’t know he’d undergone a violent seizure, Harry wasn’t going to tell him. At least not now. “Come on, lad. We’ll help you.”

Alyssa moved out of the way, giving him and Jiggs room. Together they aided Lee to his feet, then Harry took over solo, steering the younger man to the guest bedroom off the den. Alyssa led the way with a flashlight and candle, Lydia close behind carrying a second candle. Once inside, Lee collapsed on the bed with a groan. He seemed to realize his mistake immediately when Alyssa paled noticeably at the sound.

He shot her a hasty glance. “I’m going to be fine, Lyss. Why don’t you wait in the other room?”

Harry saw a flash of anger in her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.” Defiantly, she slid to a seat on the bed and gathered his hand into her lap. 

At the doorway, Nicole stuck her head into the room. “Lydia, I have the first aid supplies for you.”

The older woman nodded. “Let me wash my hands in the bathroom. Thank God, we have water at least.” She leaned over the bed and patted Lee’s knee. “I’ll be back in a minute, Captain. Don’t disappear on me. First I get your shirt off and now I’ve got you in bed. This is definitely a night to remember.”

Harry was glad she kept things light. Lee’s lack of color concerned him, but he was relieved to see the younger man rummage up a shy smile as Lydia took the candle and ducked into the adjoining, private bath. Even Alyssa managed a watery laugh. She pulled Lee’s hand closer, still fighting tears but calmer now. The reflected glow of candlelight danced off the surface of Lee’s onyx ring, gleaming brightly.

Nicole gave a small gasp, wandering closer to the bed. “I’d forgotten about your ring.”

“My ring?” Lee looked puzzled. Harry had to admit he was too.

Nicole shook her head as if realizing she’d said something she shouldn’t have. “Harry, I think you and I should rejoin Admiral Starke.”

He understood what she was doing - - or at least he thought he did - - trying to give Lee and Alyssa a moment alone. He couldn’t help feeling selfish, however, wanting to linger and make certain Lee would be fine. Ali wasn’t the only one emotionally tied to the younger man. If he were honest, he’d up and concede he was every bit as sick and worried as she.

He wet his lips, hovering at the edge of the bed. “Lee...”

“I’ll be all right, Sir.”     

They were so bloody good at dancing around words, even avoiding them, Harry thought. And yet both intuitively knew how the other felt. Even Ali was aware of the special bond between them. An emotional attachment that strengthened daily, hooking claws into his heart. He’d shaken off a lot of things in life, but that was never going to happen with Lee, nor did he want it to. He smiled faintly and squeezed the younger man’s shoulder.

“We’ll check the phones again and see if we can’t get an update on the road. You’re going to get through this.”

“I know that, Sir. It’s just . . .” Uncomfortable, Lee wet his lips, glancing between Harry and Alyssa. “What happened in the other room?”

Alyssa immediately dropped her eyes, holding tightly to his hand. That alone was enough to make Lee suspicious, a reaction clearly relayed when he tensed. Harry knew he deserved an answer. Had their positions been reversed, he would have wanted and expected the same courtesy from Lee. 

He heaved a sigh. “You had a seizure.”

“A seizure?” Lee looked aghast. “But Admiral, I’ve never...”

“I know, Lee. But you have to consider the possibility of a traumatic reaction to the bullet wound. You’ve suffered a painful physical ordeal with limited medical help.”

Unconvinced, Lee narrowed his eyes. “What does Lydia think?”

“Lydia thinks its time for everyone to clear out so she can tend to her patient,” a familiar voice announced. Harry turned to see the woman in question breeze through the doorway of the connecting bath. “All right, you heard me. We can discuss the whole thing later, but for now - - go on. Scurry. The lot of you.” She made shooing motions with her hands, urging Harry and Nicole toward the door. “Alyssa, dear, you can stay.”

Harry thought the concession a wise indulgence. She surely would have had a fight on her hands had she tried to force Ali from the room. His ex looked permanently glued to Lee’s side.

“Come on, Nicole. I think Lydia is right.” She needed to tend to Lee without an audience getting in the way. Worse, Harry knew his captain and knew Lee would continue to badger him about the seizure as long as he remained in the room. He led Nicole into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. They were halfway to the Great room when Jiggs met them. 

“Phones are still down,” his friend said dourly. “I tried again, but no dice.”

Harry nodded grimly. He’d feared as much.

“I’m tired of sitting around on my ass,” Jiggs groused. “Storm or no storm, I’m going to check on the condition of the road.”

“Good idea. I was going to suggest one of us follow up with that. Lee seems to be all right for the moment, but that seizure has me worried. If he has a reoccurrence...”

“Yeah, I know.” Jiggs held up a hand to forestall the inevitable concern. “I already know where you stand with Crane. Toss in Ali would never forgive me if I sat around on my duff when I could be doing something to help, and I think I just volunteered for a drive. Then there’s my wife and her attachment to Captain Charismatic . . .”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Jiggs. We all appreciate it.”

“Just keep an eye on Lydia for me. I’ll be back as soon as I have some news.”

“Harry,” Nicole said, as Jiggs headed for the front door. “Lee’s seizure . . . I think I know what caused it.”

He frowned. “You’re not going to bring up elementals again, are you?”

 The sound of the storm grew abruptly louder as Jiggs opened the front door and slipped outside. A gust of wind and rain burst into the hall with hostile vehemence. Cursing. Jiggs fought the door shut behind him, and the storm dwindled to its familiar muffled shriek.   

Nicole cast a nervous glance behind her at the bedroom where Lydia tended to Lee. “I think we should talk in the Great room, Harry. Just hear me out.” She raised an eyebrow. “It certainly doesn’t hurt to listen, does it?”

She had him there. “All right.” Grasping her elbow, he steered her from the hallway. Unlike the rest of the house which was wrapped in darkness and shadow, the Great room remained bathed in a topaz haze of candlelight. Squat pillars and elegant tapers placed haphazardly on end tables and the wet bar contorted everyday shapes into fantastical shadows.

Harry felt something unsettled burrow into his gut.

Watching the cavorting dance of flame and darkness it was easy to believe something lurked in the house. Something ancient and malevolent.

Something that had no intention of leaving.  

**********

Too keyed up to sit, Harry paced back and forth before the gas fireplace, the logs as dark and brooding as the rest of the home. Outside, lightning forked across the sky in yet another blinding celestial display. How long could the bloody storm last? He wasn’t entirely sold on the idea of elementals, but even he would admit something unnatural seemed to be driving the storm.

“So if I understand this correctly,” he said to Nicole. “Lee had the seizure because the elemental couldn’t enter his body?”

“Yes.” Seated on the sofa, Nicole tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. He had to give her credit; she never wavered as she’d relayed her theory. He didn’t doubt she found it every bit as plausible as the laws of gravity. “It senses he’s weak . . . injured. The scent of blood would entice it like any predator to prey.”

“We’re talking about Lee here,” he said harshly, disturbed by the cold reference. “Not some wounded animal.”

“I know that. Which is all the more reason you need to take me seriously.” She stood and joined him before the fireplace. Hesitantly, she laid a hand on his arm. “I do understand what Lee means to you, Harry. If you’re going to help him survive this night, you need to know what you’re up against.”

He diffused with a ragged exhale. “I’m sorry, Nicole. I know you mean well.” Edgy, he scraped a hand through his hair and paced a short distance away. “All right.” Turning back to face her, he made the decision to be open-minded. For Lee he could do no less. “What does any of this have to do with Lee’s ring?”

She drew a slight breath, sensing she’d gained ground. “Like most things, gemstones have inherent properties - - powers if you will - - that affect beings of the metaphysical realm. Onyx, among other things, is known to defend against evil. Lee’s ring is basically acting like a warding stone . . . protecting him and preventing the elemental from possessing him.”

“Then there’s no problem.”

Her eyes dipped briefly to the floor. “Nothing comes without cost,” she said softly. “The seizure . . . I think this elemental must be very ancient and very powerful, Harry. It’s stronger than most. I think it must have possessed Brad and that’s the reason he died when Lee struck him. I’m not saying it’s the reason Brad did what he did. He was clearly disturbed, but I think the elemental fed on and enhanced his hatred and lust.”

Harry stepped closer. “So you’re saying this thing is going to continue to attempt to possess Lee?”

She nodded. “The only thing it fears is dawn. Lee’s ring protects him, but not without cost. The next time he could react differently - - become sick or comatose. There’s simply no guessing.”

Harry blanched. “The hell with this. Let’s say I believe you. How do we get rid of the infernal thing? Kill it?”

“It can’t be killed. It can only be contained.”

“And how do we do that?”

Nicole turned and looked toward the sky. “Pray for dawn.”

**********

Lee was groggy but also strangely comfortable. Lydia had cleaned up his wound and applied a new dressing, pulling the door shut behind her when she left. Alyssa had removed his shoes and helped him slide beneath the layer of blankets and quilts on the bed. Afterward, she’d kicked off her sandals and curled against him, careful to stay on his uninjured side. He knew she’d been crying over the seizure. It bothered him he didn’t remember it but knew it must have been frightening to witness. He wanted to assure her that he was fine but feared bringing it up would only distress her further. Having her pressed against him eased the chill he’d been battling most of the night. For the first time in hours he felt deliriously warm. Even the sound of the storm raging outside only made him appreciate how content he was indoors. Lydia had given him another dose of Tylenol before setting to work on his wound, and the pills seemed to be doing the trick. For the most part, though his side was sore and prickled with needles, the pain was manageable. Particularly with Alyssa cuddled against him.

“You’re better than a drug,” he murmured drowsily.  

She snuggled closer, tipping her lips up to kiss his cheek. “Can I get you anything? Another blanket? A glass of water?”

He heard the underlying concern in her voice and made a conscientious effort to keep his tone light. It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot but was surely the first time she’d been caught up in anything so violent. “Just stay with me.”

She made a strangled sound, half choked sob, half laughter. “I have no intention of leaving, Captain.” 

He grinned and closed his eyes feeling a sudden lethargy spread over him. Maybe it was just the decadent infusion of warmth, the flickering glow of the candle on the nightstand, the blissful contentment of holding Alyssa close. He felt her fingertips skim across his brow.

“I’d feel better if we could get you to a hospital,” she whispered. 

“I’ve been in worse spots.” He knew the seizure had compounded her already excessive anxiety over the bullet wound. If he could only remember what happened. There had to be a rational explanation, given he’d never suffered a similar attack. It made him worry something was wrong that could adversely affect his career and his future. He knew he would always have a place at the Institute with Nelson, but he was far from ready to relinquish his captaincy of Seaview.

A sudden draft of cold air seeped into the room. Lee stirred, feeling the ghosting trail of something spectral across his cheek. The touch unleashed frost in his veins, made his blood grow coagulated and chill. He was not a man given to fancy but was immediately plagued by the sensation of something otherworldly hovering close by. This time it loomed over him, a near-tangible presence of dark seawater and ice. He could sense it, almost see it - - an ephemeral splotch of shadow. It reeked of carrion and brine, of decayed sea life and sludge.

“Alyssa, do you see...” The words caught in his throat as the barely-there touch of chill fingers tracked across his lips. A violent frost knifed through him, sheathing his heart in ice. Something snuffled near his neck, huffing frigid air onto his cheek. His head spun, and the room degenerated into a sickening reel. He shuddered, fighting to cling to consciousness. 

From somewhere far away he heard Alyssa calling him, felt a candle-flicker of warmth where her hand cupped his cheek. He could just decipher her face as she bent over him, brows crimped together, gray eyes stygian dark and clouded with worry. Her hair had worked loose of its pony tail, a long auburn strand curling over her shoulder like spilled cinnamon. He tried to lift his hand, to make his lips move but the form was still there - - a phantasmal web of restless shadow. It felt deviant . . . wrong. Intrusive.

He moaned softly, pulled under a vast ocean of darkness and internal pressure. He struggled to breathe, fighting the terrifying sensation of drowning . . . the suffocating kiss of water-that-was-not-water. His chest labored up and down as cold turned to pain, pain to fire, fire to flaming ice. 

“Lee!” 

Somewhere above the swelling tide of water-that-was-not-water he knew Alyssa waited for him . . . called to him. He felt her hands on his shoulders, her touch bringing warmth and light, driving back the darkness and internal cold.

“Lydia!” She started to pull away, but he clamped his hand around her wrist, locking her in place. 

Just that quickly the shadow was gone. 

**********

It was running out of time. Dawn was only a few hours away, and it had yet to satisfy its hunger for violence, its thirst for blood. The weak one was protected by the wretched taint of onyx, the others far too strong to make easy targets. Its only hope was to destroy the hated black stone but, in its natural state, it had no physical presence. 

Desperate, it considered the husk of the human it had consumed earlier. To animate that form would require most of its energy, but it only needed a short time. Just long enough to jerk the flaccid body through a series of motions. 

It would be a gruesome sight, the zombie-like movements of the corpse akin to a marionette on a string. Horror alone would leave the humans shrieking in terror and that would feed its waning power. Once it ripped the ring from the weak one’s hand, it would be free to feed, gorging itself on human flesh. 

It whimpered, squirming in anticipation of the dark-haired human’s blood.  

With the threat of dawn looming nearer, it slithered in search of the body it had robbed of life.

***********

“Lyss . . .” Unable to stop himself, Lee groaned. The touch of ice lingered, splintering through his veins like cracks riddled across the surface of fragile glass. He blinked, bringing the room into focus, the softer shadow of natural darkness and candlelight, the pinched lines of Alyssa’s face. In the half-glow her cheeks were streaked silver with tears.

“I thought . . . I thought you were having another seizure,” she choked. 

He swallowed unable to deny it. He hadn’t experienced muscle spasms or convulsions, but what else could he term it? With effort, he forced himself upright. She flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him. After a few seconds she drew back, sniffling. She positioned a pillow behind him. 

“I have to find Lydia.”

She started to pull away but he hung onto her wrist, refusing to release her. 

“Don’t.” The word came with effort, forced through the ghost of a brutal chill. He craved the warmth he had known with her snuggled against him, her body creating a decadent cocoon of heat. “I’ll be all right. Just give me a minute.” He tugged slightly, and she wilted to a seat on the bed beside him. He kept his hand around her wrist, but the fight had gone out of her, worry eclipsing her need for flight. 

“You can’t keep going on like this, Lee. I was thinking maybe one of Harry’s neighbors might have a ham radio . . . some way of contacting emergency help.”

“And then what? The road’s closed.”

She pressed her lips together. “You’re being difficult. How long until the next seizure?”

“It wasn’t a seizure. I just...”

“What?” she challenged. 

Before he could answer, there was a soft knock on the door. The barrier cracked ajar, and Nelson stuck his head inside. “I thought I’d check in,” he said. 

Lee wasn’t entirely sure that was his motive. It couldn’t have been more than forty minutes since he left. 

“Lee had another se...” Alyssa started to say, but he cut her off quickly.

“We’re fine, Admiral.”

She looked at him sharply, a whorl of emotion on the surface of her eyes. Love and concern tangled with anger that he would behave so stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge the seizure. Behind her, Nelson frowned and stepped into the room, unconvinced by his rote answer.

“Jiggs just got back,” the admiral announced. “There’s been no progress on the road. If anything, the obstruction has been compounded by flooding.”

Alyssa blanched. “There has to be some other way to reach help. What about one of your neighbors? Do you know anyone with a short-wave radio?”

Nelson shook his head. “Even my hotline phone is down. I’m afraid we’re on our own. It’s after four o’clock now. If we can hold on another few hours until dawn . . .”

“What does dawn have to do with anything?” Alyssa stood, rounding on him like he was crazed. “Harry, he just had another seizure.”

“Alyssa,” Lee warned.

Nelson pushed past her, shoving close to the bed. In the half gloom of darkness his expression was severe, partially masked by shadow. “Are you still wearing your ring?”

“My ring?” Lee frowned openly. “Sir, what does...”

Nelson grabbed his left hand to confirm the familiar onyx stone was still there. “I don’t understand. Nicole said . . .” His voice tailed away into a thoughtful murmur. Releasing Lee’s hand, he looked back to Alyssa. “Was the seizure the same as last time?”

“No. There were no convulsions.” She wet her lips and glanced worriedly at Lee. “It was almost as if he went away for awhile. I know this is going to sound strange, but I could have sworn there was something else in the room with us.”

Lee tensed, the reaction involuntary and immediate. So he wasn’t the only one who’d felt that strange otherwordly presence. It came back to him in a rush . . . the phantom touch of cold fingers . . . the suffocating reek of decay and brine . . . the icy kiss of breath on his cheek. The reaction must have shown on his face. He blinked back to the present to find Nelson watching him intently.

“Lee, did you sense something as well?”

Reluctantly, he nodded. What good would it do to deny it? “I know it sounds strange, Sir, but it isn’t the first time I’ve felt it. I had the same sensation in the basement right before Brad shot me, then later again in the Great room.”

Nelson looked worried. “Did you feel it before you had your first seizure?”

Lee couldn’t remember the seizure, but he did remember waking up afterward. Before that . . .

He swallowed. It had hovered over him then as it did now. He’d been engulfed by a violent outpouring of anger and lust, something that crushed him beneath a raging desire for blood.   When he’d recoiled, repulsed by the touch, darkness had stripped him of consciousness. 

“Yes.” He said quietly, making the connection. “I felt it then too.”

“Harry, what is it?” Alyssa asked. 

Nelson sighed. “I think maybe Nicole can explain it better than I can.” He was going to suggest finding her when the door burst open abruptly and Jiggs thrust into the room. He looked uncharacteristically winded and more than a little frazzled, his eyes gleaming brightly.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he announced to no one in particular. “But York’s body has up and vanished.”

***********

Lee winced as he lowered himself into the couch. Alyssa and Nelson had wanted him to stay in the bedroom, but he felt like a sitting duck knowing York was on the loose. He couldn’t protect Alyssa if he was asleep. She’d promised to stay with him, but he was too keyed up to lie in bed.

“Confound it! It just doesn’t make any sense,” Lee overheard Nelson mutter to Starke. The entire group, including Lydia, had regrouped in the Great room. Outside, the storm continued to lash the house with wind and rain, the guttural barrage of thunder a constant rumble in the background.

“Obviously, he wasn’t dead,” Lee said. He slid his hand onto Alyssa’s knee as she sat beside him, hoping to ease her tension. Given all she’d been through that night, she was holding up remarkably well. She hadn’t said it but Lee could see she was terrified York would return and try to kill him. “He must have still been breathing, Admiral.”

“He wasn’t.” Nelson’s voice was blunt as the chop of an axe. “I’m telling you, the man was dead. Jiggs was there.” He nodded to Starke. “You saw him. You helped me carry him into to the den.”

“The bastard was ready for a pine box,” Jiggs confirmed. “Hell, I don’t know . . .” Agitated, he paced toward the fireplace. “Maybe he did have an accomplice and someone nabbed the body when we weren’t looking.”

“That sounds like a lot of fanciful guesswork to me,” Nicole spoke quietly. “Besides ... how did they get in the house? You locked the door.”

“They could have gotten in before.”

“And stayed hidden all this time? I don’t think so.”

Jiggs shot her a black glare. “Then you explain it, Dr. Rook.”

“I will. Given the opportunity.” She looked pointedly at Nelson as if asking permission.

It took a moment but the older man sighed, conceding defeat. He nodded for her to continue. 

“I want to go back to what we were discussing earlier,” she said. “Elementals and storms.” 

Lee listened as she outlined her theory. He would have expected protests and a great deal of blustering from Starke but, surprisingly, no one interrupted. Alyssa was clearly unnerved by the tale of malevolent spirits, bodily possession and protective warding stones. She never said a word but Lee could feel her building anxiety and fright. He lifted his hand to the back of her neck, gently massaging the nape under her disheveled pony tail. 

“So you’re saying this thing wants Crane,” Starke challenged when Nicole had finished with her explanation. “Because he’s already lost blood? Sort of like a wounded animal tracked by a predator, or someone ringing the dinner bell.”

“Damn it, Jiggs,” Nelson growled.

“He’s right, Harry,” Nicole countered. “As crass as the comparison is, it’s on the mark.” She glanced quickly to Alyssa, noting the other woman had paled. “I’m sorry, Alyssa. I wish there were a gentler way of explaining it.”

Starke snorted his derision and backhanded the air. “It’s a bunch of hocus-pocus hogwash. Harry, you have York’s gun. I know you’ve got a few more tucked away somewhere. Give one to Crane, then let’s you and I scour this place from top to bottom. I don’t care if York’s a walking zombie, flesh and blood or some ancient phantom dripping sea-ooze. A slug from a .45 will put a stop to all three.”   

Lee glanced down at his left hand, noting the onyx ring that once belonged to his father. He wasn’t sure he believed Nicole’s story, but he’d experienced enough supernatural and otherwordly occurrences since joining the Institute that he wasn’t ready to discount it entirely. In the end, whether truth or fantasy, only one thing mattered.

“Admiral,” he said, addressing Nelson. “Regardless of what any of us believe, the fact remains York’s body is gone. I think Admiral Starke is right and we should search the house.”

Nelson scowled. “Jiggs and I will search the house. You stay here.” He walked behind the bar and retrieved Brad’s gun, checking the chamber before he passed it to Lee. “Five shots. That should hold you.”

Lee flipped open the chamber then closed it with a snap. “If it takes more than one, I’m losing my touch.” He grinned up at Nelson. “Don’t take the scenic tour.” He would have said a lot more had they been alone, but the older man understood his unspoken message - - be careful and watch your back. 

He dropped a hand to Lee’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “We won’t be long.” He shifted his attention to Starke. “Come on, Jiggs. I have some handguns locked in a wall safe upstairs.”

“I’m coming with you,” Nicole said suddenly. Harry scowled over his shoulder, ready to protest, but she rushed on before he could form a single word. “If you do run into York, I may be able to help. I have a better understanding of the elemental than any of you.”

Jiggs rolled his eyes. “Back to this mumbo-jumbo again.”

“She has a point, Jiggs,” Harry said. 

Lee had a feeling he didn’t want Nicole tagging along because of the danger but, after their experience with the golden broom coral, both men knew her theories were not to be taken lightly. Harry held out his hand and Nicole stepped to his side. Smiling, she slipped her fingers into his. 

“You be careful too, you old goat,” Lydia said and gave her husband a peck on the cheek. “Not everyone snaps to attention at four stars.”

“Hell, I don’t even get that from Crane,” Jiggs groused, but he said it good-naturedly for a change. For the first time, Lee felt it wasn’t a put-down so much as a back-handed compliment. In the next second he felt Starke’s stern attention shift to him. “You watch after my wife, Commander. If you’re half as protective of her as you are of Ali, I’ll consider her well looked after.”

Lee started to assure he would do just that when Lydia beat him to the punch.

“Don’t worry about me, Jiggs. I’m going to lie down in the back bedroom.”

“Mrs. Starke, I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” Lee said quickly. 

“Lydia, he’s right,” Alyssa added. “You should stay here with us.”

She shook her head. “Jiggs knows I get headaches sometimes. Not migraines but almost as bad.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I guess the night has taken its toll. I should be fine with an hour or two of sleep.” She held up her hand when she saw Lee about to protest a second time. “I’ll lock the door from the inside. If this man is still in the house, he won’t be able to bother me through a locked door. Besides . . .” She shrugged apologetically, glancing in Lee’s direction. “I’m not the one he’s after.”

That much was true. Starke settled the matter for all of them by nodding. “All right. I’ll walk you back there and lock you in myself. Harry, I’ll meet you and Nicole upstairs.”

And just like that it was decided. In a matter of seconds, Lee and Alyssa were alone in the room, surrounded by candlelight. A blinding flash of lightning briefly expelled the darkness before the shadows returned. In the fleeting burst, the outside was visible through the towering walls of windows. While still laced with clouds, the sky appeared lighter, more gray than black.

“It must be getting close to 5:00,” Alyssa said tiredly. She set the flashlight she’d carried from the bedroom onto the coffee table, standing it upright on the lamp end. The candles on the wet bar kept the room bathed in a warm yellow glow. “Dawn can’t be more than half an hour away. If Nicole’s right, this thing will leave us alone then.”

Lee shoved the .38 down between the cushion and the arm of the couch. He knew the weapon bothered her as did his comment earlier about only needing one shot. She didn’t like to think about that part of his career, his service to ONI . . . what he’d lived through already and what he’d done when forced to defend himself, his country or others. Even then she respected it, realizing it was part of what made him who he was.

“We’ve watched dawn come up a few times,” he told her, trying to keep her thoughts occupied. He shifted to view the largest portion of the room so his back wasn’t toward to the archways and exits.

Misinterpreting his reason, Alyssa looked at him worriedly. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He paused, eventually conceding when she frowned doubtfully. “All right, I’m a little sore. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve had worse gunshot wounds.”

She pushed quickly from the couch and turned her back, rubbing her hands over her bare arms as if to ward off a chill. She never said a word but he saw her spine stiffen. 

Okay, so I blundered that one. 

It definitely hadn’t been the brightest thing to say if his goal was to ease her worry. Lee rubbed his temple and tried again. “Do you remember the first time we watched the sun rise together?”

She turned slightly, intrigued. “At my condo.”

He grinned. It was working. He didn’t want her thinking about York, seizures or blood-thirsty spirits. He wanted her beside him on the couch. He hadn’t been entirely truthful about the wound. It was more than just ‘a little sore.’ The pain was starting to leech into his hip and spread across his stomach, making him wince when he moved. He knew it couldn’t be infected after Lydia’s repeated care, but guessed it needed to be stitched. The longer it went without, the more the ragged ends pulled and expanded, creating the potential for contamination. At the very least, the damn thing burned like a mutant wasp sting. He’d feel a lot better with the woman he loved cuddled at his side.

Alyssa stepped closer to the couch. “It was our third date. The first time you kissed me.”

“So you do remember.”

“Of course I do.” She sat next to him, tucking her legs to the side. Her hand curled over his, the French-manicured tips of her fingernails gleaming white in the candlelight. “You think I’d forget the first time you kissed me, Lee?” He liked the warmth he saw in her eyes, the playful note of whimsy in her voice. He’d succeeded in turning her thoughts from darkness, pain and death. “After that, you said we should take it slow.”

“So we talked all night and watched the sun rise in the morning.” They’d made breakfast together, then she’d sent him on his way to the Institute. Despite the lack of sleep he hadn’t dragged through the day, too invigorated by the growing attraction between them. He’d told her things that night he’d never expected to - - bits and pieces of his childhood, how he’d lost his father, his close relationship with Nelson. 

It had been unusual for him to share so much so soon, but that first kiss had made him realize he wanted to invest time, possibly his heart. He raised his hand and cupped her cheek. “I seem to remember you enjoying that kiss as much as I did.”

“More, Captain.” She blushed and lowered her eyes, leaning into his touch. “Much more.”

**********

Alyssa was uncharacteristically nervous, clumsy as a schoolgirl on a first date. Even her hands trembled, betraying her anxiety as she pulled two long-stemmed wine glasses from the granite-topped bar in the corner of her living room. A sun burst-shaped mirror hung on the wall behind it reflecting the interior of the pie-shaped room with its lofty vaulted ceiling and suspended white fans. She still didn’t have the condo in order, but it was passable - - plush white carpeting and furniture, glass-topped tables and airy white shears.

She loved white. Had even taken care to arrange a crystal vase with a dozen white roses on a crescent-shaped table inside the foyer. The condo needed more in decorative accents, but she’d had little time to do much of anything since moving to Santa Barbara. Most of her waking moments were consumed with setting up the satellite office of her modeling agency. She’d hung a few paintings in the condo and surrounded herself with a plethora of plants, but that had been the extent of personal touches. She hoped Lee didn’t think her home too austere or, worse yet, too elegant to be lived in. She knew he had a chalet along the coast but had yet to see his home. He was far more down-to-earth than any man she’d ever dated, and she didn’t want him thinking she lived in a cocktail-and-society-club world. 

Tonight was only their third date and the first time she’d invited him inside. On their first date - - after the charity auction and dinner - - they’d parted company at the restaurant having driven separately. After four hours together he’d felt comfortable enough to hold her hand when he’d said goodnight. 

On their second date he’d picked her up at the condo, but said goodnight outside, kissing her lightly on the cheek when he’d said goodbye. She liked that he was courtly and romantically old-fashioned but, damn it, he was also sexy as hell, and she was getting antsy waiting for him to kiss her. Not some chaste brush of the lips, but really kiss her. She had a feeling when he finally did it was going to be an event worth remembering. 

Any other time she would have been bold enough to make the first move, but there was something about him that stripped her of confidence. Granted, he was considerably younger than the men she’d dated in the past, but she’d already confessed her age and knew she could give any thirty-eight to forty-year-old a run for her money. She’d had actors, entrepreneurs and even an oil sheik trailing after her like lapdogs, so what was it about this man that turned her insides to mush and left her legs trembling like jelly? Just the sound of his voice was enough to make her weak in the knees and when he touched her...

She nearly dropped the wine glasses, recalling the feel of his hand lodged in the small of her back. He’d taken her to dinner, then dancing on an open-air deck overlooking the bay. It had grown dark by then, moonlight and starlight adding to the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the railing. The breeze was light and fragrant, perfumed with the heady musk of night-blooming jasmine and the watery tang off the bay. It had been a magical night, intoxicatingly romantic, and still he hadn’t kissed her.

“Here, let me help you with those.”   

She tensed involuntarily when he took the glasses from her hands. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t realized he’d joined her at the bar. Her mouth went dry when she recognized how close he was standing. She could smell the clean scent of his aftershave, an enticing combination of aquatics, citrus and sandalwood. It suited him well.

“Alyssa.” He slid his hands onto her shoulders, turning her to face him. “You seem distracted. What are you thinking about?”

Was she that obvious? She was beginning to realize she was in over her head. The night she’d met him all she’d planned for - - all she’d schemed to achieve - - was a single dinner. But dinner had led to a second date and the second to a third. Now here she was, wanting him to kiss her. She was crazy to prolong it further, to think it might work. He was sixteen years younger and employed by her ex-husband. Her marriage to Harry was a nagging detail she’d yet to confess. She knew she was playing with fire. The more they continued to see each other, the greater chance they had of being burned. She should do the right thing and end it now before it went any further. Before he kissed her.

“I...” The thought of doing anything noble flew out of her head the moment she looked into his eyes. The hell with doing the right thing! The man was drop-dead gorgeous and she was tired of waiting. “I was hoping you’d kiss me.”

“That’s a little straight forward, isn’t it?” Despite the question, he didn’t seem surprised.

“I could bat my eyes and pretend to be coy if you prefer.”

He grinned. “Somehow I have a feeling you’re very good at getting what you want.” The smile reached his eyes, turning amber and jade to smoked crystal. Stepping nearer, he threaded his fingers into her hair, tugging the long strands back from her face.

A shiver raced through her. She found her voice and raised her chin a fraction of an inch. “Are you suggesting I’m spoiled?”

He leaned closer, barely grazing her lips with his. “I was thinking more along the lines of gifted.” 

Another insubstantial touch of his lips, so excruciatingly fleeting all she felt was the soft whisper of his breath. He was toying with her, teasing in such a provocatively exquisite manner it made her heart ache. For a man who’d been nothing but courtly and chaste, he had an amazingly sensual side. She no longer tried to hide her nervousness, trembling as she raised her mouth to his. And still he didn’t kiss her, his lips hovering just shy of her own. She closed her eyes, enjoying the giddy electricity his nearness sparked. One agonizingly blissful second dragged into the next, the heat from his body like a toxin seeping into her flesh. She felt herself weakening . . . didn’t know how much longer she could withstand the rapturous torture, every nerve stretched taut.   

And then his fingers cupped her chin and she no longer had to imagine. His mouth closed over hers, subtly demanding, as eager to give as to take. He hooked his arm around her waist, snuggling her closer until she fit intimately against him. He was all lean sinew and heat, a bewildering combination of chivalry and raw masculinity. She slid her hands onto his shoulders then grew bolder, threading her fingers into his short-cropped hair. She knew they were fast surpassing the boundary of a first kiss but he seemed as lost to the moment as she. She’d been kissed before. Many times. But never like this. It was all she could do to remember where she was, who she was. Swept up in the moment, she wanted it to last forever.

He drew back, leaving her trembling and breathless. She was gratified to note he looked as unnerved as she felt.

Lee bowed his forehead against hers. “I think we should slow down . . . have some wine and relax.”

She lowered her eyes and smiled, secretly pleased to hear his voice wasn’t steady. “I think you’re right.” If he kissed her like that again, odds were they’d end up in the bedroom.

“Alyssa.”

She looked up at him.

“I don’t want to rush this. I want it to be right.”

She nodded, but had to glance away. God help her, she wanted it to be right too. But there was still Harry, her marriage and divorce to tell him about. Three dates and he wanted to take it slow. He didn’t want to spoil it. 

When it came right down to it, their attraction was mutual and magnetic. They should just have sex and get it over with. That way they could both move on without either being hurt. Except her heart was getting in the way, and she was already starting to feel a stronger attachment. It certainly didn’t help he was gallant enough to want to take it slow.  

“Red or white?” she asked, turning away to examine her meager stash of wine.

Behind her, she heard him chuckle.

“What goes best with a first kiss?”

**********

“You still kiss like that,” she said with a soft smile. “Stealing my breath away every time.” Alyssa lifted her hand, lightly skimming her fingertips across his lips. “You have no idea how much I love you, Lee.” Her eyes grew bright, the surface gilded with tears. “When I think that Brad almost killed you . . .”

“Don’t.” He pulled her closer, pressing his lips to her temple. It had been an agonizingly long night. All he wanted to do was curl into bed with her and forget the creeping hours that kept them from dawn. “It’s going to be all right. In another half hour it will be light. The road will be cleared soon, and we can get out of here.” 

He would have said more, but a strange dragging sound intruded. A fleshy thump followed by a scrape . . . a chill, sickening noise like something heavy was being pulled across the floorboards. Something dead.

Lee jerked, automatically reaching for the gun tucked in the corner of the sofa. He braced himself against the arm and shoved to his feet. The thing that emerged from the darkness turned his blood cold. The only resemblance it bore to Brad York was in body shape, and even that was nightmarishly deformed. Whatever possessed York’s body - - ghost, demon or elemental - - it left him grotesquely misshapen.

His eye sockets had sunken deep into his skull, the eyes rolled back until the white undersides were exposed. His mouth hung slackly, the jaw distended and unhinged. Spittle and something that might have been coagulated blood blackened his chin. His flesh was eerily translucent, pale and bloated as the underbelly of a dead fish. In stark contrast, a spidery network of blue veins riddled the surface. Sightless, the thing that was/was not York dragged one swollen leg across the floor. Its pace was slow and plodding but unerringly direct.

Lee felt a crypt-cold burst of air crash over him. He heard Alyssa scream and shoved her behind him. Raising the gun, he sighted across the distance and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck York dead center in the forehead, blasting through blue-veined flesh and solid bone. Undeterred, the nightmarish creature continued its lumbering advance.

“What the hell?” Lee fired again. When the shot made no more impression than before, he stumbled around the front of the couch and fired rapidly in succession. The thing was practically on him by that time, the bullets as useless as if he were lobbing drops of water.

“Lee!” Alyssa screamed.

York knocked the gun away and the weapon spun across the floor. Something fleshy and chill tugged at his left hand, grasping at his onyx ring. York’s free hand clamped down on his throat, a squat, bloated thumb gouging into the hollow. Spots danced before Lee’s eyes. The cold was merciless, the pressure suffocating. He felt himself gradually slipping away and clawed at the hand restricting his air. From the corner of his eye he saw Alyssa swing her flashlight at York’s head. The steel lamp impacted with an audible crack, but the blow made no impression. The dead man backhanded her, sending her sprawling to the floor.

Lee choked out her name, trying to free himself. His knees started to buckle, the cold dragging him under as if he were drowning in an ocean. A second later, a ray of light bounced into his eyes, blinding him. It took him a moment to realize Alyssa had regained her feet and switched on the flashlight. Her hair was completely askew about her shoulders now, her eyes wild with fright. But she advanced on York, shining the beam directly into his eyes. The thing that was/was not York roared in agony. Lee was released so quickly, he dropped bonelessly to the floor.

“Lee, the flashlight,” Alyssa yelled.

He struggled to his hands and knees, one hand cupping his bruised throat as he choked on a clean rush of air. The cold had relented, releasing him enough to make sense of what was taking place. The creature cowered before the light, hands raised to ward off the intrusive brightness as if it caused pain. 

“The flashlight!” Alyssa yelled again.

Lee lunged for the wet bar and seized a second flashlight. He added the glow to Alyssa’s, angling the sun-bright beam into York’s face. A tortured wail bubbled up from the dead man’s throat. Moving to Alyssa’s side, Lee took her flashlight, shielding her behind him as he trained both beams, like spotlights, on York.

“Lee!” Nelson’s sudden shout preceded his hasty arrival in the Great Room. He, Starke and Nicole burst into the front of the room near the archway summoned, no doubt, by Lee’s gunfire. Nelson and Starke immediately zeroed in on York, ready to shoot.

“Admiral,” Lee called. “Bullets don’t do any good. It’s the light. Use your flashlights!”

“A false dawn.” Nicole looked dazed at the revelation. “He’s right!” Shaking off her bewilderment, she slanted the beam of her light into York’s eyes. The dead man howled again, raising his arms in front of his face, shuffling blindly backward. Starke added the sole remaining flashlight to the fray and York slumped to the floor, his shriek of agony dwindling to a strangled gurgle. 

Silence claimed the room.

In the tense seconds that followed, Lee became aware of Lydia hovering near the hallway, a look of horror on her face. She rushed to Starke’s side and the usually gruff man tugged her close, shielding her from the sight.

“Bastard’s dead this time,” he said brusquely. “As a doornail.”

Lee took a step toward the body.

“Don’t!” Alyssa clutched his arm.  

“It’s all right, Lyss.” Gently, he disentangled her fingers. He and Nelson approached together, moving from opposite sides of the room. York laid face up, sightless white eyes focused on the ceiling. A fizzle of air hissed from his mouth, and his body collapsed like a balloon slowly deflating. Lee was engulfed by a brutal arctic chill. He felt something angry and malevolent brush against him, a disembodied presence that reeked of bitter cold and darkness. With an inhuman shriek it was gone, sucked into the air as if banished to another realm.

“It’s over,” Nicole whispered, stepping closer to the body. It had lost its ghastly bloated appearance. There was still spittle and dried blood on York’s chin, but his eyes had closed and his mouth sagged rather than gaping wide. “How did you know the flashlight would work?” she asked Lee, visibly suppressing a shudder.

“I didn’t. Alyssa figured it out.”

As one, the group turned toward the slender, auburn-haired woman. Her eyes were wide, her skin pale. Badly shaken, she glanced at Lee. “I  . . . I took a guess. I thought if it couldn’t withstand the dawn, maybe light would hurt it. Nothing else worked.” She wet her lips, her whole body trembling. “It was going to kill Lee.” The words were said mournfully, choked off in her throat. Spent adrenalin hit her in a rush. 

Lee had felt the sensation often enough to recognize it in someone else. He walked quickly to her side and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. He never stopped to consider they weren’t alone or as a general rule he wasn’t demonstrative around others. He lowered his head and kissed her until her trembling stopped, until she quieted in his arms. With a small sigh, she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Lee . . .” Her voice caught, threatening to break. “That thing was going to...”

“Ssh. I’m fine, Alyssa. I have you to thank for that.” He stroked her hair. Behind him, he could hear Nelson muttering something to Starke about getting the body the ‘hell out of my house.’

“I guess we’ll have to dump him in the den for now,” Nelson said. He scraped a hand through his hair, annoyed by the prospect. “Give me a hand, Jiggs?”

“I already moved that tub of lard once,” the other man groused. “He better stay put this time until the coroner hauls his fat ass out of here.”

“Speaking of the coroner  . . .” Nicole was looking toward the front windows. “I think the storm’s letting up. It’s almost light outside. We should be able to get help soon.”

The promise of dawn lingered on the horizon, minutes away. Rain still pattered against the windows, but it had dwindled to a soft mist, abating from the relentless downpour that hounded them throughout the night. Lee felt Alyssa burrow closer against him.

“It must have known it only had one last chance before dawn,” she whispered. “The whole thing feels like a bad dream.”

“Or a horror movie,” Lydia said. “I don’t think anyone is going to believe this actually happened.”

“Which is why we should keep the ugly mess to ourselves.” Starke squared his shoulders, making the decision for all of them. “You won’t catch me spilling my guts about it.”

“I agree with Jiggs.” Nelson paused to glance at the others individually. Lee certainly needed no convincing. He’d experienced enough bizarre and otherwordly circumstances since assuming the captaincy of Seaview to be well acquainted with the need for discretion.

“And York?” Nicole asked, turning from the windows. “How will you explain a dead body to the authorities?”

“I think that’s obvious,” Nelson countered. “Brad was obsessed with Alyssa. He came here with the intention of taking her from Lee. Lee was able to overpower him but not before Brad shot him.”

“And Brad’s death?” 

“Like Lydia said . . . he must have had a weak heart. I don’t think the police are going to question two admirals and a captain, especially with three women backing them up. We know what happened here, but I don’t think the rest of world is ready to learn the truth about storm spirits and elementals.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Alyssa said.

Lee pressed his lips to her hair. With his adrenalin waning to low ebb, he was once again conscious of the nagging pain in his side. “You don’t have any more crazed fans lurking in the woodwork, do you?” he murmured.

Sensing the shift in his energy level, she drew back, a furrow creasing her brow. “I want you to sit down, Lee.”

“Alyssa, I’m fine.”

She pointed him in the direction of the sofa. “Now, Captain! Otherwise I’ll call in some old favors and turn two admirals loose on you. Harry’s bad enough, but I’m sure you don’t want Jiggs telling you where to park your six.”

“Or what will happen to it if you don’t,” Jiggs threatened with his usual bluster.

Lee glanced at Alyssa. “You don’t play fair.”

“It pays to have connections, Commander.” She smiled sweetly. “Would you like me to help you to the couch?”

**********

It took a while to clean up the mess. For the phones to come back online, the power to be restored, and emergency work crews to clear the road. By the time Harry was finally able to reach Jamie and get Lee transported to the local hospital, morning had given way to afternoon. It was several more hours before he squared matters with the police and the coroner. Two officers briefly interviewed all of them at the scene, leaving Harry to follow up in detail later with a visit to the station. He made sure Nicole got home safely but, after a short nap, she returned to the Institute, insistent on documenting what had happened if only for their lock-and-key files. It was something he’d study in depth later, taking the time to ponder the events quietly. At the moment, the only thing he wanted to do was check on Lee.

His captain had done a fair amount of complaining after learning he’d be required to spend the night in the hospital. Harry had checked in with Alyssa after the nursing staff had gotten Lee cleaned up and settled into a room. The wound had taken stitches but, thankfully, wasn’t infected. Jamie had been to see him along with the attending ER doctor who’d handled his arrival. Both men felt that while the injury wasn’t serious, he’d been without medical attention long enough to warrant a twenty-four hour observation period. Lee had heatedly protested he was fine, but the objection had done little good when Jamie put his foot down. And especially after Alyssa kissed him and asked him to stop being so difficult. Harry knew Lee would have continued to argue with the doctor, but Alyssa was Lee Crane’s weak spot. One kiss and a soft plea later and Seaview’s notoriously stubborn captain grumpily conceded to spending the night. 

By the time Harry reached the hospital room on the third floor it was nearing 1800 hours. He found Alyssa sitting in a chair by Lee’s bedside, the curtains partially drawn to block the late day sun. The clouds had blown off earlier in the day, the sky a vibrant, sun-laced blue. Though the room was only semi-private, the other bed was unoccupied. Harry was certain the lack of a roommate would help Lee rest easier.

Unlike the usual sterile décor, the room was furnished in harvest colors with walls of ripe butternut squash and dark green curtains banded in apricot and gold. An old black-and-white movie played on the TV, but Alyssa had the sound turned off. She flipped through a magazine, one elbow propped on the arm of her chair, her head resting in an open palm. Lee was completely out, lying on his back, his eyes closed in what appeared to be a deep sleep.

“So he finally passed out,” Harry observed, stepping into the room.

Alyssa sat upright with a start. “Harry.” She smiled in relief and closed the magazine, settling it on her lap. “You startled me.”

“I didn’t mean to.” He stepped closer to the bed, gazing down on Lee. “How long has he been out?”

“Several hours now. He slept straight through dinner. I think last night finally caught up with him.”

Harry grunted an acknowledgement. “Damn fool had to be running on fumes.” He fiddled with the sheet, tugging it higher on Lee’s arm. It was an automatic reflex, a strange urge to hover and fuss. Abruptly self-conscious, he stilled. It was one matter to fret over Lee in private, but he had an audience this time. He chanced a glance at Alyssa and found her watching him with warm amusement.

“He’ll be pleased you stopped by.”

He decided it was safest to change the subject. “You haven’t had any sleep either. You’ve got to be exhausted.” 

“I think I dozed off a bit earlier. I’m fine.”

“He’ll want you to go home.”

“I’m not leaving.”

Harry sighed and pulled up a chair. He knew the feeling. How many times had he sat at Lee’s bedside waiting for him to recover from some ailment or unexpected surgery? The man had a knack for being in the thick of things and that invariably translated into some form of injury.

“At least go get something to eat. I’ll sit with him while you go to the cafeteria.”

She smiled. “You worry about him too, don’t you?”

He was going to shrug off the observation but decided against it. What was the use? Everyone at the Institute, and on Seaview, knew Lee was like a son to him. Alyssa surely did too. He’d moved past the point of trying to be inconspicuous about it. His eyes tracked to the bed and the sleeping dark-haired man. “You know how I feel about him.”

She nodded. “It must be hard for you. I’ve complicated your relationship.”

He glanced at her sharply. He had a feeling he knew where she was headed but stayed silent.

“Does it bother you?” she asked at last. “Lee and I together?”

He shook his head with a tired smile. “Ali, you’re the best thing that could have happened to Lee. I admit in the beginning I had to get used to the idea of my ex-wife dating the man I’ve come to regard as a son. But it’s impossible to see the two of you together without realizing you were made for each other. Even Jiggs told me he was glad you finally found someone to make you happy. You’ve always been a bit of a kid sister to him.”

She laughed. “He certainly knows how to play the part of over-bearing brother. But I thought he wasn’t that fond of Lee?”

It was Harry’s turn to chuckle. “They have different ideas about protocol and how things should be done. Jiggs is spit-and-polish Old Navy. Lee has a relaxed command style and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. It’s only natural they butt heads. Lee expects Jiggs to give him a hard time and Jiggs wouldn’t have it any other way, but there is mutual respect between them. If anything, I think the events of last night have made Jiggs a bit more receptive to Lee.”

Her gaze tracked to the bed, a vibrant mix of love and pride in her eyes. If there was any doubt she and Lee would end up together, it was long gone. He wanted to tell her to just pick a date and get it over with. It would stop them all from guessing. The pools at the Institute were getting out of hand. 

“You never did answer me,” he said at last. “Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria, and I’ll stay with Lee while you get something to eat.”

She started to protest then stopped abruptly, reconsidering. “Um, Harry . . . I’m really not hungry. But there is something you could do for me if it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” She tugged her handbag from the nightstand, fishing inside until she located a small tablet and a pen. “Since Lee’s going to be here for the night there are a few things I could use from the house to make him more comfortable.” She jotted several items on the tablet then stopped, pen poised as she raised her eyes. “That is if you don’t mind?”

“Give me your list, Ali. Knowing you, you’ll want more than his bathrobe.”

She smiled, adding a few more things before passing him the list. 

Harry looked it over. “You want me to bring these here . . . to the hospital?”

Still smiling, she nodded. 

“Should I ask why?”

“Probably not. Are you okay with the instructions I wrote down? The other things I need you to do.”

“I think I can handle a microwave.” He stood and tucked the list into his pocket. Before he left, he turned back to the bed. His eyes dropped from Lee’s face, peaceful in sleep, to his left hand, resting on the sheets. The onyx ring that had once belonged to Grayson Crane gleamed like a dark star. What had Nicole said? Onyx protected its wearer, warding against evil.

Harry knew Lee’s father had never been without the ring . . . not until he’d left on an undercover assignment on the Carlisle Maine that cost him his life. According to Lee’s mother, Grayson had left the ring behind because he felt it didn’t mesh with his undercover role, but that had always seemed odd to Harry. If he were a man who believed in fate, he’d be inclined to think Grayson had left the ring knowing Lee would have need of it someday. Even then, not understanding the wherefores or why, Grayson had done what was needed to protect his son.

Harry did believe in fate. He’d come to realize it was impossible not to.

Fate had a way of catching up with you, rattling around until you opened your eyes and owned up to what you’d been neglecting. It made old men out of young children and gave new life to those who thought their world had ended. Fate had gifted him with the son he’d been too busy to conceive in his own life. He didn’t deserve Lee - - he knew that - - yet his young commander was everything he would have wanted in a child of his own. The ironic part was - - and here he was sure Fate laughed uproariously - - lack of a shared blood line made their unique bond all the more complex and extraordinary.

Fathers loved their sons. Harry loved Lee. 

He didn’t know if he would ever have the courage to say those words out loud, but it was evident in every thought he had, every breath he took. He’d pigeonholed himself into an impossible situation. He was Lee’s superior officer and employer. As much as it crushed him, he knew there would come a time when he would be forced to order Lee into danger again. How many times had he knowingly put his captain’s neck on the line? His son’s neck? 

The thought sobered him, made his stomach grow cold. Surely Lee knew. Surely he understood why their relationship was forever poised on that delicate balance beam. Swallowing hard, Harry rested his hand on Lee’s shoulder. The simple warmth of the shared contact engulfed him. He was a stupid old fool, realizing what mattered most so late in life. 

Lee moaned softly and turned his head on the pillow. His eyelashes flickered. “Admiral?”

“It’s all right, Lee. I was just leaving. Go back to sleep.”

“Sir...”    

“I want you to rest, lad.”

Lee’s eyelids were already drifting closed. Harry felt Alyssa at his side. He turned to find her smiling warmly, a bright sheen of tears in her eyes. 

She folded her hand over his. “He loves you, Harry. He might not say it, but he does love you.”

He looked away, too shaken to admit how deeply her words affected him. “Why does it always take a woman to see the obvious?” he muttered.

She kissed him on the cheek. “Maybe it just takes someone who loves you both dearly.”

**********

Lee was still sleeping peacefully at 7:30. Alyssa had already cleared matters with the hospital staff for her to stay the remainder of the night. She knew Lee would protest, insisting she go home once he awakened, but she was determined they would leave together in the morning. Harry had picked up the items she’d requested from Lee’s home, and she’d taken care of arranging them as needed. She’d pulled the privacy drape between the two beds even though the other was empty. She hadn’t eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours, and the lapse was finally starting to catch up with her. She was beginning to feel a little shaky but couldn’t tell if the tremor was from lack of eating or a need for sleep. She’d dozed for a few hours, nodding off in the chair earlier in the day, but the nap had been restless, her mind plagued with concern for Lee. 

Her eyes shifted to the bed. Sleeping, her captain looked even younger than his thirty-five years, the lush line of his lashes creating a black fan below his eyes. Watching him, she was reminded of the first time she saw him sleeping. Earlier, she’d recalled their first meeting and their first kiss. 

It was only natural she thought of the first time they’d made love.

**********

Alyssa was wrapped in a decadent cocoon of midnight blue. Lee’s sheets weren’t silk or satin but every bit as luxurious, made of fine Egyptian thread. She snuggled closer in the king-sized bed, hooking one bare leg over his while he slept. She watched his face, thoroughly enamored by the chiseled angles and planes. The man had impossibly long eyelashes and the kind of features a model or actor spent thousands of dollars in cosmetic surgery to achieve. He could have commanded an A-list movie or high profile magazine spread on looks alone. Classically handsome, he was one of those rare few capable of putting Narcissus to shame.

It was those exceptional looks that had first attracted her to him when all she’d seen was his photo. But now, six dates later, they’d made love for the first time, and she realized her heart was involved. It was no longer just about chemistry, attraction or sex. She’d come to know him. To recognize the things that mattered to him, the set of values that made him tick. The flash of his smile sent her pulse into overdrive, and the hypnotic smoked-green topaz of his eyes was capable of melting her heart.   

Making love was better than she’d imagined. She’d had lovers before, but they paled in comparison to the sensual passion she felt with Lee. She tried to tell herself it was just good sex, nothing more than carnal gratification. He was young and virile and far from inexperienced. What woman wouldn’t feel like she’d tumbled into the moon and drowned in a sea of ethereal light and gold?

But it was more than that. 

She traced a finger over his chest, shivering with the memory of him spilling into her. Ironic . . . she thought she’d had it all planned. Her marriages hadn’t worked out and children had eluded her, but she’d built a successful modeling agency and had enjoyed a career that made her a media darling. At fifty years old, she’d been content with a few short-term relationships, nothing serious to bog her down. She’d been enjoying her independence, concentrating on business rather than romance. Even with Lee all she’d originally envisioned was a simple shared dinner. Afterward, when that single evening progressed farther, she imagined a date or two and, if she could get him into bed, a night of sex to satisfy them both.

Well . . . she’d had the dinner. Now, six dates later, she’d had the sex too.

The only problem was it hadn’t been simple let’s-tumble-into-bed-s-e-x. The man had treated her tenderly. He’d been excruciatingly romantic, every stroke of his fingers and touch of his lips lusciously sensual. He’d made her feel, engaging her heart, until she found herself cuddled against him, doomed by the realization he was far more than she’d bargained for.

She had no intention of walking away. But there was still Harry and their long-ago marriage to tell him about. She’d do it later, another time when she didn’t feel so cowardly and wasn’t worried about the truth damaging their relationship. Would he leave her then, she wondered? She felt her stomach clench, fully aware she was falling in love.

How was that possible? Fifty years old, six dates, and she was giddy head-over-heels in love. She held no illusions. He cared about her and enjoyed spending time with her, but he wasn’t in love. Not yet. At thirty-four, with a skyrocketing career that left his contemporaries in the dust, he had his whole life ahead of him. As captain of the world’s most celebrated submarine, he probably had women lined up on a shoestring, waiting to warm his bed. She’d seen how most responded to him. How every female head had turned when he’d walked into the room at Lydia Starke’s charity auction. Why commit to one person when he could have his pick of the field any night of the week?

Except he didn’t act like a player. He was sincere, a little old-fashioned and devastatingly romantic - - in short, everything a woman wanted in a man. She sighed, feeling much like a spider trapped in her own web. He’d surely ditch her when he learned the truth about Harry. He was far too close to her ex-husband and far too honorable a man to be comfortable with their continued relationship. If Harry grumbled about it, the whole thing would go up in smoke.

He shifted, hugging her closer in his sleep. Moonlight streamed through the windows and the balcony doors of his bedroom, bathing the room in onion-pale radiance. It splashed across the bed, plaiting the rumpled blankets with silvery threads. Lee lay on his back, the dark blue sheets shoved below his hips. Alyssa skimmed her hand lightly down his chest and over his flat stomach, grazing lower where the sheet barely covered him.

He stirred, his arm tightening reflexively around her. She smiled at his reaction, her lips poised inches from his ear. “I didn’t mean to wake you, Captain,” she murmured. She slipped her fingers beneath the sheet where the warmth of his body blazed sun-hot. He hitched in a breath, and his lashes dipped as a shudder of pleasure raced through him.

“You’re indecent,” he accused.

“I’m not the one sprawled on my back with the sheets bunched below my hips like a centerfold.”

He laughed. “You would compare everything to a magazine layout.”

“I don’t think the Navy has an Officer-of-the-Month calendar. You know . . .” She squiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “As in Mr. January is really Commander Lee Crane.”

Grinning, he shifted onto his side, pinning her beneath him. Her heartbeat catapulted higher, threatening to burst through her chest. Her breath grew rapid and thready as she gazed into his eyes. Damn, but the man made her feel like a hormonal puddle and it seemed she had little effect on him.

“So I get January?” he asked. He kissed her and she felt a streak of warmth all the way to her toes. “The coldest month of the year?”

“You get all twelve.” She traced her fingertips over his lips, enthralled by the way the moonlight pulled glimmers of honey and green from his eyes. “Do you think I’d be satisfied with just one month now that I’ve gotten you into bed?” She thought of the slowly provocative way she’d slid his tie free and unbuttoned his shirt . . . taking her time . . . enjoying the sensual ripple of tension racing through his muscles. He hadn’t exactly been thinking straight after that. Maybe she really did have an effect on him.

Deciding to test the theory, she laced her hands behind his neck and snuggled closer, pressing her warm flesh against his. It didn’t take long for her to feel his reaction or hear the change in his breathing. “You’re very good at seduction, Lee.”

His eyes dropped to her lips. “You’re not exactly a novice. If you keep squirming around like that, neither one of us is going to get any sleep.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” She smiled up at him, and he covered her mouth with his. Alyssa felt herself tumbling into that airy veil of gold and light where time had little meaning. There was only the moment . . . the exquisite stroke of his fingers on her flesh, the intoxicating heat of his kiss. “Lee?”

He brushed the hair back from her face, nuzzling her ear. “What is it?”

“What we did tonight . . .” She didn’t want to ruin the moment, but had to know.

He found the pulse-point in her throat and molded his lips to the fluttering vibration. “You mean making love?”

Her breath caught. He hadn’t used the coarser ‘having sex.’ Had it actually meant something to him, more than a lazy tumble under the sheets? “Do you regret it?”

Bewildered, he raised himself up on one elbow. “Do I look like I regret it?”

“No.” He looked like he wanted to engage in round two and then some. “I just . . . the difference in our ages...”

“Alyssa, stop worrying about that.” He kissed her again, longer this time, until she felt her reservations slip away. When he looked down on her his eyes were hooded, smoky yet tender with desire. She’d never known a man to look at her like that. One who made her feel wanted, protected, cherished and valued all in a single glance. 

She saw everything she wanted in Lee’s eyes. 

Everything but love.

She smiled a little wistfully, saddened that she’d given her heart and he lagged behind. It was a foolish dream, but maybe given time . . .

**********

“Lyss?”

Alyssa shook herself from her reverie, realizing Lee was awake. She smiled and bent over the bed, giving him a light kiss. What a difference ten months made. She certainly didn’t doubt he loved her now. The only thing that would make her happier would be to have him home and healthy. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve slept for a week.”

She glanced at the wall clock. “It’s been closer to five hours. Jamie and I are both of the opinion you could do with more.”

He grunted, still groggy, but struggled to push upright in bed. “Maybe later.” Alyssa positioned the pillows at his back, arranging them for comfort. It took him a minute to readjust to the room and get his bearings. He eyed her suspiciously. “How long have you been here?”

“A while.” She sat on the edge of the bed, gathering his hand into her lap. “I’ve already made arrangements with the nursing staff to stay overnight. We can leave together in the morning.” She saw the protest form in his eyes but never gave him the chance to object. “Don’t argue with me, Lee. My mind is made up. Besides . . . my car is back at the house, and yours is still sitting at Harry’s with four flats.”

He winced, momentarily forgetting the damage Brad had done to his car. They’d discovered the slashed tires after the storm had passed. “I forgot about the Cobra.” 

She knew he was attached to the Mustang, obsessive about it in the way most men seemed to be over high-powered, showy vehicles. “At least all he did was damage the tires. Jiggs was going to try to get someone to take care of it.”

Lee was dumbfounded. “Admiral Starke?”

“Harry was tied up with the police and the coroner, then Jamie and the Institute,” Alyssa explained. “Since Jiggs and Lydia are in town for a few more days, Harry asked him to see what he could do - - after he caught a few hours sleep.”

“And he agreed?”

She smiled. “Well, I think Lydia had something to do with that, but he was going to get it to a garage and have four new tires installed. We talked and I told him to get the same make and model as you had before. I also told him which garage to use and already called them with a credit card number. By the time you get home tomorrow, it should be back at the house.”

He grinned. “You’re wonderful. Come here and let me kiss you.”

She leaned into his embrace, his kiss as always, leaving her lightheaded and weak. It amazed her after the previous night’s ordeal he still had the ability to send her senses reeling. It left her giddy, discovering all the nuances of what love could do. “You’ll have to thank Jiggs too.”

“He isn’t getting a kiss,” Lee said adamantly, causing her to laugh. “I’m sure he’ll grumble and complain, and go out of his way to make sure I know how much I inconvenienced him.”

Even she knew it was the credo Jiggs lived by when dealing with junior officers. “He just likes to push your buttons, Lee. Are you hungry?” she asked, drawing back. “You haven’t eaten in almost twenty-four hours.”

“I’d rather kiss you.”

“Lee.”

“All right. Maybe a little,” he conceded.

She’d been hoping he’d say as much, especially after she’d put Harry to such trouble. “That’s perfect, because we have dinner reservations.”

“Dinner?” he asked skeptically.

“Yes.” She glanced to the clock. “Just like our first night together . . . dinner at eight.”

Lee watched as she stood and moved behind the privacy curtain. He heard a quickly expended hiss, like the strike of a match. The scent of sulfur briefly permeated the air, then Alyssa pulled the curtain back. He blinked, dumbfounded by the transformation of the two rollaway tables normally used for serving hospital meals.

Both had been draped in white linen, each with a blush china plate, silverware, crystal water goblet, linen napkin and a single lighted candle in a silver holder.

He laughed. “Alyssa, how did you...?”

“I had help.” She grabbed a bright red thermal bag from the floor and set it on the vacant bed. “I had Harry bring what I needed. I wasn’t sure when you’d be hungry, so I’ve been keeping the food warm in an insulated container.” As she spoke, she unzipped the top, releasing a tantalizing blend of herbs and spices. Lee felt his mouth water, realizing he was more than just marginally hungry.

“Since you missed dinner and I didn’t think you’d be all that excited about hospital food, I had Harry heat up some leftovers in the microwave.”

“You had the admiral playing chef and courier?”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Why not? He was here, checking on you like a worried parent. He was glad to help out. Harry thinks the world of you, Lee.”

He flushed. He had a vague memory of Nelson leaning over his bed, urging him to go back to sleep. He remembered a touch on his shoulder, the assurance of concern and support. He’d come to expect no less from the man he viewed as a surrogate father as well as boss, superior officer and friend. At times the closeness of their relationship still caught him off guard, particularly when Nelson allowed his devotion to show.

“I should call him.”

“After you eat something. I told him we had dinner reservations. Besides, you can see him tomorrow. He’s picking us up in the morning to take us home.”

Lee chuckled. “Chauffeur too?” He knew he wouldn’t go the night without making a phone call to Nelson, especially after the admiral had been to visit him.

“Like I said . . . he was only too glad to help out.” She rolled the first of the tables closer to the bed, positioning it so he’d be able to eat. If he weren’t stuck in a hospital, he’d think he was being served a gourmet meal. Chicken Marsala, asparagus spears and a slice of Italian bread decorated the blush china plate. Alyssa filled his glass with iced water from a bedside pitcher. 

“You’re not joining me?”

“Of course I am.” She added a helping of food to the plate on the second table then rolled it closer to the bed. Easing to a seat on the foot of the mattress, she sat facing him. “Should we have a toast?” She filled her glass with water.

Lee grinned. The woman was amazing. Who else would dream up an intimate candlelight dinner in a hospital room after the night they’d endured? She’d been through hell yet thought nothing of planning something extraordinary. It wasn’t just any hospital that had chicken Marsala on the menu. It made him realize he was helplessly, happily, in love. What was the word Chip used to badger him - - ‘besotted?’ Not for the first time he started thinking about the need to buy her a ring.

“I think we should toast our future.”

She smiled. “I like the sound of that.” 

Lee clinked his glass to hers, then leaned forward and kissed her before taking a swallow of the water. He winced as he set the goblet back on the table, feeling the uncomfortable pull of new stitches.  

Alyssa noted his reaction with a frown. “Jamie left some pain pills for you. Maybe you should take a few.”

“I think I’ll skip the appetizer.” He grinned and swallowed a forkful of chicken. “Knowing Jamie, whatever he left is going to have the added effect of putting me to sleep.”

“It’s his prerogative to worry about you. We all do. Wait until Chip gets back from Sedona.”

Lee grimaced, imagining the reaction of his overly-protective blond friend. Chip was currently visiting his youngest sister and parents in Arizona, but he was due to return in three days. Hopefully, Lee would be well on the way to recovery by the time his self-appointed big brother landed back in Santa Barbara.   

“I’m fine, Lyss,” he said quietly. “I was lucky. It could have been a lot worse.”

“I know that.” The thought sobered her. She drew a shaky breath. “When Brad said he shot you . . . I thought . . .” She swallowed, unable to finish. Lee noted her fingers, resting on the base of her water goblet, trembled. 

He laid his hand over hers. “There’s no need to think about that.”

She nodded, swiping a knuckle beneath her eye to brush away a tear. “You’re right. I don’t want to dwell on what could have been. Let’s just enjoy dinner.”

He was glad to hear the positive change in her voice. “How did you ever get the hospital to agree to this?” He indicated the china and candlelight.

“Like I said before . . . it pays to have connections.”

“Jamie?” he guessed with a raised brow. “Why don’t I have that kind of luck with him?”

“Because it takes a woman to effectively charm a man.”

“Hmm. Is that what you do to me?”

“Turn about is fair play.” She nudged her chicken with her fork, projecting an air of nonchalance. “I seem to recall most of the women at Lydia’s charity auction falling all over you the moment you walked in the door.”

“Maybe. But I was only interested in one - - from the moment I walked in the door.”

Blushing, she lowered her eyes, enjoying the compliment. “I had no clue what I was getting into.” 

“Do you regret it?” He already knew the answer but couldn’t resist prodding. 

In the candlelight, her eyes were bright, her smile dazzling. “You already know what I’m going to say,” she accused. “You must have a swelled head wanting to hear it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Lee.”

He laughed and tugged on her hand. She moved to the front of the bed and willingly fell into his arms. Hugging her close, he buried his face in her hair. “I have everything I want, Alyssa, starting with you.”

It was true. He had Seaview, N.I.M.R., people who loved him, people he loved. For the first time in his life the fissure of emptiness that had always underscored his actions was gone. A storm had passed with the night, but it wasn’t a physical one. Strange that a supernatural experience could leave him appreciating how much he had. He’d never thought of himself as the sentimental type. Sentiment involved personal interaction and relationships, and he’d always been good at shielding himself from emotional involvement. He had friends but knew the bulk of his acquaintances thought of him as aloof. Nelson, Chip, Alyssa and a few others from Seaview and the Institute were altering that. It made him realize how dramatically he’d changed in the last three years.

There were still serious decisions to make about the future. The next step in his relationship with Alyssa and whether or not he planned to continue with ONI were two crucial areas that came to mind immediately. He’d already begun to limit his service with the intelligence branch of the Navy and knew in all likelihood he’d eventually discontinue it altogether. Nelson would be pleased, and Alyssa would be ecstatic. She’d never pressured him, but he knew she hated the assignments. A man didn’t plan a future then take every high-risk mission he could find. And they were planning a future together even if they’d never really discussed it.

He palmed the hair from her face and looked into her eyes. “You know . . . I just realized you’ve never met my mother.”

She laughed. “You’re not thinking...”

“I am.”

“Not the mother test?”

“Are you afraid of biting the bullet?”

She drew back to face him, her arms still looped around his neck. “Couldn’t you find a better way of phrasing it? Besides, you’ve never met my parents or my brother and sister.”

“See that? You only have to meet one and I have to meet four.”

“I think we should concentrate on getting you home first and into bed.”

“Promise?”

She shook her head. “Lee, you’re terrible.”

He grinned brashly. “You can’t fault a man for knowing what he wants.”

“Or thinking with a singular part of his anatomy.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “But in this case, trust me, Captain. It’s mutual.”

“Does that mean I’ve corrupted you?”

“Proof positive.” She rested her head against his chest, glancing toward the window. Sunlight streamed through the central crack where the curtains joined, ruddy and gold, tinged with the blood of evening. “The sun hasn’t set yet. I can open the curtains so we can watch together, like the first time we kissed.”

He stroked her hair. “There are plenty of sunsets in our future, Alyssa. I just want to hold you in my arms right now.”

She uttered a contented sigh and closed her eyes. “You always know the right thing to say,” she murmured.  

He wondered if it was true, relying on what was in his heart to guide him. Showing emotion was still fairly new to him, but one thing was certain - - he’d found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Chip would call him smitten, besotted, in love . . . but it didn’t matter. He’d come through a night of abnormally catastrophic weather, one sunset closer to a future where even storms lacked the power to damage. The onyx in his ring might have protected him from the elemental, but the love and support of Alyssa and his friends were stronger than any warding shield devised by man or nature. 

He’d take his chances with love, loyalty and devotion.  

In the last three years he’d learned to give and accept all three.

*****End*****

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