Olivia watched in horror as the fire enveloped Luke so that he looked like a human torch.

“No!” she screamed over and over, even as she tried to shake off the grasping hands that held her firmly in place.

It couldn’t be real. It had to be an illusion created by the priests. They wouldn’t allow Luke's odyssey to end this way—would they?

But the priests’ panicked reactions told her this was no illusion. Chaos broke out in the sanctuary. Some of the men ran for the back of the room, out of her line of vision.

Others ran toward the altar where two of the priests leaped forward and threw themselves on Luke, pulling him from the heart of the fire.

All three of them fell to the stone floor, unmoving.

Fighting free of the hands that held her, Olivia struggled toward Luke. When she knelt beside him, she gasped.

His skin was so charred that he hardly looked human. The other two men weren’t as bad because their time in the fire had been much less than Luke’s.

The elegant suit he had worn to the temple lay in shreds—sticking to his body.

The box was still spouting fire. Two men dashed past Olivia, carrying a heavy, richly embroidered blanket which they threw over the altar, cutting off the fireworks. Smoke still seeped from the edges of the blanket, but the flames had been quenched.

At the same time, some of the priests joined Olivia on the floor beside the injured men.

First they carried away the two priests who had dared to pull Luke back. Then four more men picked up Luke and hurried out of the room.

Nobody stopped Olivia from trailing behind as they descended a flight of stairs to a room on the floor below.

When they laid Luke’s ruined body on a narrow bed, she asked God over and over to save his life.

But it looked like it was already too late. He lay still and lifeless. She could smell something like burned charcoal. And when she touched his charred flesh, some of it flaked away. Quickly she drew her hand back, afraid to injure him more.

“Is he dead?” she whispered.

“It depends on how you view life,” the priest named Father Delanos answered.

“This isn’t a semantic game,” she snapped, then wondered how she could be so disrespectful.

“It is not a game. I simply can’t give you a definite answer because his life on earth is hanging in the balance,” the priest answered in a calm, even tone.

Needing to steady herself, she clutched her own hands in front of her body. “You have magic powers. You told me you have lived for a long time. Can’t you cure him?”

“Not magic. And I have lived so long because I have not been injured.”

“Okay. It’s not magic. I don’t care what you call it,” she answered, hearing the desperation in her voice. “Can you save him?”

“No,” he said, his voice low and deep and very sure of the pronouncement. “I can heal the other two men because they were only briefly in the fire. But Luke’s body is beyond my skill.”

She felt as though the floor had dropped out from under her feet, and she had to steady herself against the bed to keep from falling.

It was hard to hear the priest over the roaring of blood in her ears, but finally his words penetrated her brain.

“But perhaps you can save him.”

A spark of hope leaped inside her. But only a spark. If the priest couldn’t do anything—what could she do? “How?”

The priest’s voice turned grave. “It is dangerous. You might not survive.”

“But if I take the chance—he may live?”

“Yes.”

There was no question about her answer—not when she and Luke had been through so much together. Not when she understood in this terrible moment how much he meant to her. “What do I have to do?” she asked.

“His spirit is halfway between this world and the next. If you follow him, perhaps you can bring him back.”

“What about the warrior? Will I bring him back, too?”

“I do not know,” the priest answered, and she heard the deep regret in his voice.

She knew she should keep her opinion to herself. But she simply couldn’t stop herself from saying, “You punished Zabastian for something he did long ago. He faithfully did your bidding, but I guess being confined in that box and feeling time ticking by over a thousand years was more than he could endure. More than anyone could endure.”

“Yes. I understand that now,” the priest answered in a low voice. Age does not always bring wisdom. Sometimes it takes a fearful event.”

“If I find him and Luke—can I tell him that he doesn't have to return to the box?”

“Yes.”

“How do I reach them?”

“I can send you to them. To the gateway between life and death.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “The gateway between life and death. And what do I do when I get there?”

“That is the part I can’t tell you. What you do will be up to you.”

It sounded like an impossible task, but she gave a small nod and whispered, “Okay.”

“Lie down,” the priest said.

She started to ask where. Then she saw that the narrow bed was wider now—wide enough for two people.

Without asking how that had happened, she kicked off her shoes and eased onto the white sheet, pressing her shoulder lightly against Luke’s, afraid to increase the contact or do anything else that would injure his already mangled skin.

“Close your eyes.”

When she did as he’d asked, the priest made a gruff sound. “The next part may hurt.”

She braced herself for pain, then felt a jolt like a knife stabbing into her brain as he laid his hands on her forehead.

The bed seemed to drop away from under her, and then she was lost in absolute and complete nothingness

She was disconnected from her body, disconnected from every one of her senses, and fear clawed at her throat. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out because sound was impossible.

She was nowhere. Nothing. And it had happened in the space of a heartbeat. Only now she didn’t even know if her heart was still beating.

What had she done?

Her eyes were wide open, but she couldn’t see. She might have been in the cold, dark reaches of outer space. But in space, her body would explode, wouldn’t it?

Instead, the only sensation was of a terrifying free fall, as though she’d jumped from a plane, and her parachute had failed to open. Only, to add to her confusion, she felt like she was falling “up” not “down.”

Then, off in the distance, she recognized light shining. It might have been the full moon. Or something else. She wasn’t sure what she saw. She only knew that her salvation depended on reaching that place where there was hope.

Once again, everything changed in the space of a heartbeat. She was no longer out in the cold dark nothingness. Suddenly, her feet touched down on a solid surface. Relief flooded through her. As she looked around to see where she was, she realized she was in an enclosed space, a tunnel with a curved wall. The light she had seen was shining at the end—calling her.

She ached to rush forward—to embrace the light. That was why she had come here, wasn't it?

Or was it? She pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to dispel the confusion swimming in her brain.

Something else. There was something else she needed to remember.

The light pulled at her, sweeping everything else away. But as she started toward it, she saw someone ahead of her in the passageway. It was a man walking in the same direction.

She couldn’t see him clearly, yet her chest tightened as she hastened to catch up. She kept staring at his back, trying to puzzle out who he was.

All it once, it came to her.

It was Luke. She recognized Luke’s dark head and his broad shoulders.

With a start, she realized that back in the real world, his flesh had been charred. Here, in this place, he was whole again.

As that thought came to her, she knew why she was here.

To bring him back.

How had she forgotten that?

“Luke!”

He stopped short, his shoulders tensing.

“Luke, wait for me.”

He spun around, staring at her, his face contorted with a mixture of alarm and sadness. “Olivia, oh Lord Olivia, did I kill you, too?”

“No! That’s not what happened. Not at all. I . . . I came to bring you back where you belong.”

She made the mistake of glancing behind him—at the light. And she felt the pull of the warmth and radiance.

She wanted to go there. “But not yet.” She said it out loud to make sure she understood it was true.

“Not yet,” she repeated.

Still, she needed more than words. To reinforce the conviction, she ran forward, clasping Luke in her arms, hugging him to her, focusing on the sensation of his warm, solid body against hers.

He went very still, then murmured. “Let me go. I have to . . . go to the other side.”

She tightened her grip on him. “No. It’s not your time yet. This is a mistake.”

He raised his head and looked around. “But I’m here. In the tunnel that leads to the afterlife, so it must be my time.” Still, even as he spoke, he sounded like he wasn’t certain.

“You’re not sure—because I’m right! Zabastian didn’t want to go back into his prison. That’s why you’re here. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. With Luke Garner.”

He looked surprised, as though memory were flooding back.

To reinforce the memory, she kept talking. “You put the box on the altar. And the light show started. And Zabastian jumped into the flames,” she said, her voice bitter.

A dark look came over his face, and his fists clenched. “And my body died,” Luke finished.

“No! Father Delanos said you weren’t dead. He said I could bring you back.”

When he opened his mouth to speak, she rushed on. “Luke, I love you. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that. Come back with me, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”

For a few heartbeats, she thought he was giving her his agreement. Then he eased away. “Don’t say that. It’s too late for us.”

Her breath had turned shallow, but she kept her voice strong. “You can’t order me to change my feelings about you.”

“You hardly know me. How can you love me?”

She looked into his eyes. “The same way you love me. For a month we watched each other and wondered. I know you thought you couldn’t have anything personal with me because of your job. But I know you wanted to. The same as I did. Then the Poisoned Ones came, and you got me out of their death trap. You kept me alive while you tried to bring the box back to the temple. You could have easily left me along the way, but you didn’t. Just like I’m not leaving you now.”

He pulled away and looked her in the eye. “Not me. This isn’t just about Luke Garner.”

“I’m not forgetting about Zabastian. The two of you were working together. He couldn’t have done it without you. And when we were safe in your friends' house, we had time for the two of us. You made love to me—and I found out how I really felt about you. And so did you—about me. Didn’t you?” she challenged.

His face contorted. “Zabastian wasn’t thinking about the two of us. He was thinking about controlling the uppity woman.”

“You’re not going to push me away by saying that kind of stuff. That wasn’t what Luke Garner was thinking, was it?”

He swallowed. “No.”

“Do you love me?” she demanded.

“Yes.”

“I want to hear you say it,” she murmured. If this ended here, she wanted to have that much. “I want to hear the words.”

“I love you.”

Before she could rejoice, he went on, “But that doesn’t change anything. Zabastian is still inside me. He won’t go back to the living hell of the box.”

“Father Delanos and I talked about that. The father realizes the punishment was too much for anyone to endure. He says Zabastian doesn’t have to go back into solitary confinement.”

His expression changed, and she knew that she had been speaking to the warrior as well as to Luke. He had been there all along, inside Luke, taking in the conversation.

“Father Delanos wouldn’t lie,” he said, his voice gruff. Zabastian’s voice. “But it is still too late,” he added with grim finality. “The energy blast fused Zabastian and Luke Garner together. We cannot be separated.”

Olivia wanted to scream. Instead she managed to hang on to some shreds of calm as she addressed herself to the warrior. “Zabastian, what if you could live?” she said, emphasizing each word. “What if you could live through Luke? In his world. Experiencing what he does. Like you’ve been doing. Only Luke would stay in charge?”

She held her breath, waiting for both men to consider that idea.

When they spoke, it was hard to hear them above the rushing of blood in her ears.

“I cannot accept that,” Zabastian said.

oOo

Olivia had dared so much and come so far. But with those words, her temper snapped, and she screamed at him. “Why not? You’re getting a chance to live—not die.”

He glared at her. “What if you were in danger? Would you expect me to stay in the background and let you get hurt—when I could save you? Or what if Luke needs my advice. What if I know something that he doesn’t—and he needs the information?”

She breathed out a sigh. “Is that all you’re worried about?”

“Not all. But that is the main thing. And it is enough to make what you suggest impossible.”

“Why don’t you let Luke speak for himself?” Her gaze locked with his, she asked. “Luke, if he came back with you, would you agree to let him take control—if you or I were in danger.”

He nodded gravely.

“And . . . would you take advice from him?”

“That’s a little harder to swallow. But yeah, I think I could. I’ve been doing it. And we’ve learned how to cooperate—in a weird sort of way.”

“Then come back with me. Both of you. Please.”

She saw that he was still hesitating. “Is there still some problem?”

“Father Delanos said he would not put me back in my prison. But you asked the wrong question.”

She felt her heart clench.

“You should have asked if he would punish me.”

Olivia knitted her fingers together, squeezing them tight enough to make her knuckles ache. “Yes. There might be some consequences. But are you telling me that you’re willing to kill Luke Garner because you are afraid?”

“I am not a cowering dung beetle!” he thundered at her.

“Then take the chance on coming back.” She stepped to him, clasping him to her, locking her hands behind his back.

She knew he was strong. Strong enough to break free of her grasp. But as she stood there with her heart pounding, she realized deep in her soul that he wasn’t going to yank himself away.

“Thank God,” she murmured, pressing her lips against his cheek.

He turned his head, too, and their mouths met.

She made a glad exclamation that was swallowed by his mouth as he began to kiss her with a hunger he didn’t hold in check.

As his lips moved over hers and his arms tightened around her, pure and absolute joy surged through her.

But when he lifted his head again, his expression was grave. “Do you happen to know the way back?”

The question hit her with the force of a rock striking her chest. “No,” she whispered.

She looked toward the light.

It still tugged at her. But she knew she must walk away from it—if she wanted to go home with Luke.

Turning her back on the warmth of that glow, she looked toward the other end of the tunnel where she saw darkness. She had come from that darkness. Returning there seemed like her only option.

The terror of plunging into that nothingness again made her hesitate. But Luke reached down and clasped her hand. It was warm and strong.

“I know how I got here,” she whispered. “Will you take a chance on going back that way?”

“Yes.”

His hand tightened on hers, steadying her for the leap into the black abyss. Whatever happened, they were going to do it together.

“Come on, before I lose my nerve,” she whispered.

Together they ran down the tunnel, away from the light, toward something she couldn’t see or feel or hear.

Then, suddenly, the solid surface under her feet fell away, and she might have screamed if sound could have come from her throat.

She had faced this once. But that didn’t make it any easier the second time.

As she hurtled downward, the terror threatened to swallow her whole.