To Luke’s relief, he was able to remove the license plates in the dark and exchange them without incident. With thanks to God for small favors, he drove away from the scene of the new crime, his mind still scrambling to think of a place to hide out.

“Where are we going?” Olivia asked again.

As if by magic, an address leaped into his mind.

“We can go to the house of some friends. Ginny and Tom Hanover. I got in touch with them when I came back to town.”

Won’t we put them in danger?”

He shook his head. “I had dinner there a week ago, and they told me they were going to spend a month in Mexico.”

In fact, Luke had already used them for this assignment—putting them on a customer list at Marathon Computers so that if anyone checked up on Luke Garner, they’d see that he had other accounts besides Peterbalm.

“And they don’t mind lending you their house?” Olivia pressed.

“I hope not.” The answer came out more sharply than he intended, and he knew this situation was getting to him. His life was out of control, and every time he turned around, he got into a worse fix. He wished he’d never opened that damned box.

Then Olivia would be in bad trouble, Zabastian was kind enough to remind him.

“Yeah.”

“What?” Olivia asked.

He sighed. “Just talking to myself again.”

She tipped her head to the side, staring at him. “You mean, you’re talking to the warrior? And you said it out loud”

She looked like she didn’t expect him to be straight with her. But he answered with a simple, “Yes.”

“And you and I . . .” She swallowed, then started again. “I’m talking to Luke Garner now.”

“Yes.”

“So—what’s it like? Channeling?”

“It’s not exactly channeling. I’m not . . . communing with someone who’s dead. His spirit was in the box.”

“Can you explain that?”

He sighed. “I’m not equipped to explain it.”

She reached out and carefully laid her hand over his. “Can he feel that?”

“Yes. He feels everything I feel.”

“How do you know?”

“I can tell when he’s reacting.”

“And he’s listening to this conversation.”

“Of course.”

“Is he critiquing our discussion—inside your head?”

“He’s been quiet for a while.”

Before Luke could enjoy that state of affairs, he felt the warrior getting ready to assert himself.

And Olivia didn’t help by asking, “What’s he thinking now?”

Luke struggled to keep the warrior’s pointed observation silent. But Zabastian forced the issue by muttering, “That you should learn your place!”

She folded her arms across her chest and turned to face him. “That’s what he’s thinking?”

“I’m afraid so. But he’s operating on assumptions he learned a thousand years ago—when social conditions were quite different. If you remember your ancient history, women weren’t exactly equal partners back then.”

She glared at him. For several moments she kept her lips pressed together. Then she said, “Okay, Zabastian. You’re here now. But you never explained how you ended up in that box.”

“Um.”

“How?” she pressed.

Luke was as interested in the answer as Olivia. He kept his eyes focused straight ahead of him, and the words he spoke came out like someone throwing rocks. “I was being punished.”

“For what?”

“The Master of the Moon is very strict about how his servants behave.”

Luke knew the man hated to say more. But at the same time, he seemed compelled to admit his sins. Since Luke had been carrying this man’s consciousness around inside himself for the past six hours, he felt the warrior’s internal struggle.

The answer rose up from deep inside the man’s psyche. “I killed a woman,” he said.

Olivia gasped, and Luke felt his own jolt of shock. He’d been in the ancient warrior’s mind, but only on the surface. From the first, he’d considered the guy a badass. He hadn’t known how bad.

Olivia shifted her body so that she was leaning as far away from him as she could get in the car. “Care to explain that piece of information?” she said.

“She was a woman named Devona, a priestess in the Temple of the Moon. She was new to the sacred sisters, and she was impatient to acquire more power for herself. She saw that Alana was in line to be chief priestess, so she poisoned her.”

Luke felt the warrior’s pain reverberating inside himself. But that was only part of the equation. The sentiments he heard inside his head were from another, more violent time, an ancient age when the rules of life were different from today’s. But whatever the rules had been, the warrior had violated the laws of his society.

Olivia was watching him, watching the play of emotions across his face. “You loved Alana?” she said, her voice not quite steady.

“Yes,” the warrior said, his tone soft. “We were very close. She called me to her, and she died in my arms. She suffered for many days, and she had time to think about who had hurt her and how it happened.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “She remembered that Devona brought her a drink the night before she got sick.”

“That’s not much evidence.”

“It was unusual. That was why Alana noted it. When she told me what Devona had done, I . . . went crazy.” His voice grew hard. “I am a warrior. I am trained to act. I forced Devona to confess.”

“You think that a confession under torture is valid?”

He made a harsh sound.

“Maybe you were wrong,” Olivia said.

“I was not wrong!”

“Then you killed her?”

“Yes. But I should have let the priests take care of her punishment. They were angry that I had overstepped the bounds of my . . . commission.”

Luke wasn’t sure he could have asked any more of the warrior. But Olivia still had questions.

“And they put your spirit into the box?” she asked. “For all that time?”

“I have been out of that box seven times over the years. Each time I have defended the sacred object.”

“And then you went back into your prison?” Olivia whispered. She reached over and laid a hand on him again. Luke could feel her warm fingers pressing over his forearm.

“Yes. I must go back until I have served out my sentence.”

“How will you know?”

“The priests will decide.”

“When you’re in the box? Are you sleeping or are you aware of time passing?”

“I feel each second dragging by.” He sighed. “It is a heavy burden.”

“That must be horrible.”

“I committed a crime, and I must live with the consequences,” he said, his tone stoic.

Olivia was looking at him with new eyes. “Was Alana your lover?” she asked.

“Making love with her was forbidden. She was a priestess. And I was a warrior.”

Olivia nodded. “I’m sorry that the two of you couldn’t . . . find happiness together.”

“We lived by the Way of the Moon.”

Luke heard the pride in the man’s voice. His own voice, he realized. He hadn’t understood Zabastian very well. He still couldn’t completely figure out the man who had invaded his body, but Olivia’s questions had helped unlock some of his secrets.

“Both men and women serve the Way of the Moon?” Olivia asked.

“Now it is only men.”

“Why?”

“Because the priests took over all the duties when the order went underground.”

“Why?” she pressed.

He gave her a quick look, then focused on the road again. “Because women are more ruled by their emotions than men.”

“That’s not always a bad thing,” she murmured, and Luke could sense her emotions rising now. She was silent for several moments, and Luke waited for her to make some cutting remark.

But perhaps she was more interested in getting information than in challenging the warrior. Or perhaps she was also understanding him better. “Have you told any of this to anyone else—since you went into the box?” Olivia asked.

“No. Nobody else ever wanted to know.”

“I’m sorry,” Olivia murmured.

“Why?”

“It added to your loneliness.”

Luke felt his stomach muscles clench.

After speaking so frankly, Zabastian sank back into himself. Maybe he was sorry he had revealed so much about his past—and his punishment.

Or maybe it was a relief to get it off his chest. He was silent as they drove up Charles Street, to the northern part of Baltimore where the houses were large and situated on wooded lots. He found the street and made sure nobody was following him as he turned into the driveway and steered the junk car around to the back of the property.

oOo

Beth paced from the front of the restored Ellicott City town house where she and her husband, Len, lived to the kitchen, then back again.

Damn, why was he out of town now when she needed him?

She knew Olivia hadn’t just put down the phone. Someone else had clicked off, and when she’d tried to call her back, she got only a busy signal.

What should she do now? Calling the police seemed logical. But Olivia had called her, not the cops, which meant she didn’t want the authorities involved.

She was still trying to figure out what to do when a knock at the door made her jump.

Moving to the front window, she pushed aside the curtains and saw two men standing on the stoop. One looked like he was in his late forties or early fifties. The other was much younger. From their tough appearance, both could have been cops or special agents or something.

When the older guy caught her watching him, he pulled a wallet from his pocket and held it up so she could see an ID card. It said Decorah Security.

“We need to talk to you,” he mouthed.

She set the door on the security chain and opened it a crack.

“Talk about what?” she asked.

“Your friend, Olivia Weston is in danger.”

“How do you know?”

“We put a trace on her phone.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“We’d like to come in and talk.”

She didn’t want to let these guys in, but on the other hand, she was already sure Olivia was in trouble. “Tell me what it’s about,” she demanded.

“A shipment of antiques.”

Beth caught her breath, then slid the chain and let them in.

“Thank you,” the older man said as he stepped into her living room. As she looked at him, she decided he had a face that made you want to trust him. Hopefully, that wasn’t an illusion.

“I’m Frank Decorah, from Decorah Security, and this is Brand Marshall, one of my agents.”

“And you were listening to Olivia’s calls?”

“No. We were only checking the phone numbers she called—after we lost contact with one of our agents, Luke Garner.”

“Luke Garner? Olivia mentioned him to me. She said he’d taken over the computer repair work at her office.”

Frank nodded.

“Wait a minute. Is he a computer repair guy or one of your agents?”

“Both,” Frank answered.

Before she could respond to that, he went on, “We knew he was with Olivia, but he isn’t responding to calls. And we also know a car belonging to Luke Garner crashed into a concrete barrier in the warehouse district of Baltimore near Greektown. Before that, the vehicle almost hit a truck. The driver’s voice was shaking when he called the cops.”

“And Luke and Olivia were gone by the time the police arrived?” Beth asked, although she had already gathered as much.

“Yes.”

As she tried to imagine what had happened, Frank Decorah said, “Perhaps we should sit down.”

She nodded and gestured toward the sofa. The men sat on it, and she took a wingback chair opposite.

“Luke called us to say he was going over to fix a computer problem at Olivia’s office,” Decorah said. He gave Beth a direct look. “But we also know her office received a shipment of antiques from France.”

“Yes, she told me. She wanted help identifying a strange looking wooden box.”

Frank sat forward. “Did you know what it was?”

“She sent me a picture.”

The man’s eyes lit up. “You have the picture?”

“Yes. But why is this so important?”

“We went to the Peterbalm offices before we came here. They were in a shambles. We think someone came to steal the box. It’s not there, and we’re hoping Luke and your friend escaped with it.”

“Yes. Olivia said armed men came in and tried to take the box. And I do think your guy and Olivia escaped with it.”

“Can I see the picture?” Decorah asked.

Beth got her phone, called up her photos, and handed it over. When the Decorah guy saw it, he caught his breath. The other agent leaned over and looked too.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it, exactly?” Beth asked.

“An ancient object of power. We’ve known for weeks that it was going to arrive at Peterbalm—and that whoever received it was in grave danger. That’s why we had Luke keeping an eye on the offices.”

“And he didn’t tell Olivia anything about that.”

“On my orders,” Frank said.

“Why?”

“Because the logical thing to do would have been to call the police, but in this case, that would be a mistake. The box must be returned to its rightful owners, and the authorities would have wanted to impound it.”

Beth nodded. Now she had a better idea how much trouble her friend was in.

She cleared her throat. “You withheld information from Olivia. But I think there’s something I’d better tell you. She called me about an hour ago.”

“We know. That’s why we’re here.”

“She told me something that’s going to sound pretty weird.”

The younger agent and Decorah exchanged glances before the older man turned back to her. “We’re used to weird.”

“Okay.” Beth swallowed hard and braced herself for ridicule. “From my research, I think the box is . . . magic.”

“That’s a valid assessment,” Decorah replied.

“Why do you think so?”

“Because I also know something about the box.”

His positive reception made her able to say, “Olivia told me Luke opened the box and a mist came out. He was knocked unconscious. And when he came to, the spirit of an ancient warrior was inside him—in his mind, I guess.”

She waited for the two men to laugh at her, but their expressions had turned grim.

“Christ,” Marshall muttered. “It’s worse than you thought.”

“Maybe not,” Frank said. “The warrior could be a plus.”

“But he could kill Luke.”

“He needs Luke.”

“I guess for now.”

Decorah turned back to Beth. “Did she say anything else?”

“Yes, the warrior said his job is to protect the box and get it to the Master of the Moon.” She gave Frank a long look. “Do you know where that is?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“So you sent Luke to keep an eye on the box, but you had no idea what he was supposed to do with it.”

“We wanted him to keep it safe until the owners made themselves known.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have any idea where Luke and Olivia might have gone?”

“To repeat your phrase—unfortunately, no.”

Decorah pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to her. “If you hear anything from them, call me.”

oOo

The two men left the house and returned to the SUV. As soon as the doors closed behind them, Frank swore.

“What?” Brand asked.

“This is a mess, and it’s all my fault.”

“You didn’t know what would happen.”

“I should have realized the danger swirling around the box. I should have sent more men with Luke.”

“To hang around Baltimore doing nothing?” Brand asked.

“Yeah.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “And then I have to ask the question, why didn’t he call back?”

“His phone was in the office.”

“But there are still pay phones in the city. He could have called from one of them.”

“Why do you think he didn’t?” Brand asked.

“Probably because the warrior is insisting on secrecy. And he thinks they can handle the situation on their own.”

“And they can’t,” Brand muttered.

He started the engine, then realized he had no idea where they were going.

“What are we doing next?” he asked.

“If I had to guess, I’d say Olivia won’t go back to her apartment. But the men who trashed the office would look for her there.” Frank consulted his smartphone and gave Brand the address.

He programmed it into the GPS and started off.

oOo

Olivia watched Luke looking around. Probably he was evaluating the property from a whole new point of view—as a hideout.

Lucky for them, the driveway was screened by a row of pine trees, and the backyard was planted with numerous bushes and trees so that you could barely see the houses on either side. Which was good, since the car they’d come in hardly looked like it belonged in this neighborhood.

“Come on.”

After snatching up the chest, Luke got out of the car and she followed, taking a breath of the fresh air.

“So far, so good,” Luke murmured.

Olivia nodded as she stared at the old Victorian house with a turret at the front and a wide-screened porch in back.

“The Hanovers are doing pretty well.”

“Tom is a good salesman. He moves a lot of medical equipment.”

“Um.”

They walked across the patio, through a door and into the screened porch. Before they reached the back door, Luke stopped beside a table with a group of four flowerpots. He moved one holding pink and magenta impatiens and retrieved the house key.

“That’s a dumb place to put it,” Olivia said, then wished she had just kept her mouth shut. She was nervous—about being alone with Luke and with the warrior.

“Yeah, I told them something similar. Not quite in those words. They did it anyway,” he said over his shoulder as he opened the back door and ushered her into a huge kitchen with an island and granite countertops.

She saw Luke looking around and knew that Zabastian was taking in the setup. At least, it didn’t make sense that it would be Luke. He’d been here before.

“They prepare food here?” the warrior asked.

“Yes.”

“We should eat.”

“I guess you’re hungry—after a few hundred years in the box.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she decided it was another dumb thing to have said. From now on, she vowed to think before she spoke.

“Do you think the Hanovers will mind us raiding their pantry?” she asked.

“We can restock for them later.”

“Restock? How long do you expect to be here?”

He shrugged. “It depends.”

Feeling like she was trespassing, she pulled open the refrigerator and looked to see what the owners had left. There wasn’t much, but she found some grapes in the vegetable keeper and some Vermont Cheddar cheese that the homeowners hadn’t cleared out before they left. Not much of a meal.

“Maybe there’s something better,” Luke said. Opening the freezer compartment, he pointed to some plastic cartons that were carefully labeled.

“Ginny makes fantastic beef stew. We can thaw this in the microwave, then heat it up.”

“You’re sure this is okay? I mean making ourselves at home.”

“They trust me.”

“So when you tell them you were hiding out from armed men, they’ll understand?”

Nerves made his voice gruff. “Stop coming up with objections. We need to hole up here while we figure out where to find the Temple of the Moon.”

“You don’t think the phone directory will do?”

“No,” he snapped, then turned away. Inside his mind, he knew the warrior wanted to tell the argumentative woman to shut up and fix a meal. But Luke knew that wasn’t the way to handle the situation.

Handle? That wasn’t the kind of relationship he wanted with Olivia. He wanted something real. Something that would endure.

Or was he kidding himself? Like, how was she going to react when she found out Decorah Security had planted him in the computer repair job—and that he’d caused a lot of the computer problems?

You should have thought of that before you did it, the warrior commented.

Shut up.

Unable to deal with Olivia or the warrior, he wandered into the dining room, then the living room and the den.

Are these people rich? Zabastian asked after Luke had explained the large, flat TV screen.

No.

But this house is big. How many people live here?

Two.

I think twenty people could live here comfortably.

Not by current American standards.

You waste resources.

Probably.

He stopped beside the fireplace.

You keep this house warm with fire?

It’s just for . . . ambiance.

The warrior snorted and picked up a cut glass pitcher sitting on one of the side shelves. And the rooms are filled with valuable items. Zabastian hefted the pitcher in his hand, then replaced it on the shelf.

They inherited some antiques from Ginny’s mother.

They have many things here that they do not need.

They don’t need your critique.

The aroma of well-seasoned stew reached him, and he turned back to the kitchen where Olivia was spooning the food into bowls. She’d automatically taken the woman’s role, and he wished he’d thought to heat the food himself.

Why? the warrior asked.

Because I don’t want her doing all the domestic work.

Women are made for that. And for making love.

Like I said, we treat them as equal partners. They’re bankers, senators, doctors, lawyers.

Zabastian made a rough sound.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“Nothing. I was having a little exchange with my inner warrior.”

“About what?”

“Modern mores.”

She gave him a considering look. “He’s still commenting on sex roles?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed. “What do you want to drink?”

“Cold water. And I can get it.”

Deliberately he crossed to the cabinet beside the sink. “Can I get you some?”

“Thanks.”

He took down two glasses and added ice cubes from the dispenser on the side of the refrigerator. Then he added cold water from the faucet.

Zabastian swirled the ice cubes in the glass, then took a sip of the water. This is very cold, like from a high mountain stream. But it should be pure. Why does it have a funny taste?

From the chemicals they put in at the water treatment plant.

He set down Olivia’s glass, then pulled out a chair and joined her at the table.

The stew was hot from the microwave, and Luke blew on it. “You cooked it quickly,” the warrior commented.

“It’s already cooked. I just heated it.”

Of course Luke knew that, but he wasn’t going to stop the warrior from asking questions because he’d never been great at idle conversation. And the Big Z might as well fill the silence.

He took a small taste with the spoon, prepared for Ginny’s excellent cooking, then felt the stunned expression on his face.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“This is . . . wonderful.”

“Yes. It’s good.”

“You eat like this all the time?”

She tipped her head to the side, her gaze fixed on him. “It depends on how well the woman cooks.”

He grunted.

“I guess the art of seasoning food has come a long way in the past couple thousand years,” she added.

He bent to his bowl of stew, spooning up a chunk of meat and chewing enthusiastically.

Close your mouth when you eat, Luke inwardly muttered.

Why?

It’s polite.

The warrior said something Luke couldn’t understand, but he assumed it was a rude suggestion. Nevertheless, he complied, and when Luke glanced up, he and Olivia exchanged a long look. He wasn’t sure exactly what it meant, but it warmed him.

She swallowed the food in her mouth. “So, Zabastian, when you defended the box before, did you take over another man’s body?”

It was a very direct question, and it hung in the air between them.

Luke was as interested in the answer as Olivia. “Yes,” the warrior said.

“And what happened after that?”

“After the crisis was over, I went back into the box.”

“You didn’t fight it?”

He felt his features harden. “The Master of the Moon is all-powerful.”

“But according to you, the bad guys have gone after the box more than once.”

“They want its power. They are persistent.”

Luke sensed that the warrior might not be telling the whole truth. But it seemed that there was nothing he could do to force the issue.

So he went back to his stew. Actually, it was gratifying to experience the simple meal from Zabastian’s point of view. It would not have tasted remarkable to Luke, but now he could appreciate the expertly seasoned gravy, the tender meat and the chunks of vegetables in a new way.

Olivia finished first and ran water in her bowl in the sink. Then she started for the kitchen door.

“Where are you going?” he asked quickly.

“To look for the bathroom. If that’s okay?”

“Fine.”

“Where is it?”

“Across the living room and into the hallway. It’s the door beyond the den.”

He watched her hurry out of the room, and he felt mistrust welling up from within himself—mistrust emanating from the warrior.”

She is up to something.

Unfortunately, I agree.

And it is the same for you, the warrior added.

What do you mean?

You are thinking of calling your friends at Decorah Security.

They can help us.

I will handle this.

The man with two minds quietly pushed back his chair and walked lightly across the living room, heading for the hallway where she’d disappeared.

She might be going to the bathroom, but she’d stopped in the den first.

The receiver from the landline was in her hand, her shoulders were tense, and she was quickly dialing a number.

He stepped up behind her, grabbed the phone and pushed his finger onto the button that clicked off the connection.

You need to learn how to handle your woman, the warrior muttered.

She’s scared. She wants to talk to her friends.

Don’t make excuses for her. Take her mind off her fear.