Luke could feel the confusion and the sudden panic welling up inside the warrior as he realized he was in over his head. The man had probably never asked for help in his life. But he needed it now.

“Give me control,” Luke shouted, praying that the big Z wasn’t too proud to prevent his own suicide—and their deaths along with his.

The cab of the truck had already entered the intersection. It was too dark to see the driver’s face. But Luke could imagine the terror in the man’s eyes as he realized the other driver wasn’t going to stop.

At the last second, something inside Luke’s mind snapped, and he regained control of his muscles. He wanted to slam down on the brake. Instead he eased his foot down, pumping the pedal and slowing the car as he yanked the wheel to the left, trying to prevent a collision.

Somehow he bought them enough time for the truck to roar past, the wind shaking the Honda.

Luke breathed out a sigh, giving Olivia a quick glance. When he turned back to the road, he got an unexpected shock. The left lane was blocked by a row of concrete barriers, and he was heading straight toward them.

It was impossible to avoid a collision. But at least they weren’t going very fast when they slammed into the leading edge of the low wall.

The sound of crunching metal filled his ears as they came to a rocking stop.

You did that! the warrior shouted inside his head.

Shut the fuck up. There was no way to prevent it.

Had the truck driver seen the crash? Probably, but he apparently didn’t want to get mixed up with the maniac who was driving the Honda.

Olivia was sitting in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield, looking dazed.

“Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

“I flew forward,” she whispered. “But the seatbelt pulled me back. Otherwise, my head would have smashed into the glass.”

“Yeah,” he answered.

With hands that weren’t quite steady, he unhooked his seat belt and staggered out of the car. He wanted to have a good look at the crumpled front end, but there was nothing he could do about it now. And he wasn’t going to agonize over the car when Olivia might need him. He went around to the passenger side, where she was still staring out the windshield.

“Are you all right,” he asked again.

She gave a small nod.

“Answer me.”

“I . . . I’m okay.”

He helped her out of the car, then gathered her close. Despite the circumstances, he liked the way her body melted against his and the way her arms came up to clasp him.

They stood swaying on the sidewalk, and he lowered his head, skimming his lips against her hair, her ear. He moved his hands up and down her arms, feeling her sway like a young tree fighting a windstorm. “Your legs are okay? Your neck?”

He felt her testing various muscles. “I’m okay. You have a good headrest.”

“Does anything hurt?”

“I don’t think so.”

He nodded, then muttered, “I’m sorry.”

She raised her face to his, her eyes questioning. “For what?”

“For bashing into that barrier.”

She looked around. “Nobody expects a barrier in the left lane.”

“Yeah.” This crazy situation was pulling them together. And he’d like to reap the benefits—which meant keeping them alive.

A voice inside his head—the voice that kept butting in—interrupted his thoughts.

Get the box!

The box. He cursed under his breath. He’d like to pitch the box into the Inner Harbor. But the big Z was right there doing his job.

Reluctantly, Luke let go of Olivia, then reached inside the car and retrieved the antique.

His mind was starting to focus on business again. Zabastian’s business. Had the driver of the truck called the cops? And were the Poisoned Ones monitoring police communications?

He looked at the front of the car again. It was going to be a while before his ride was back in driving shape—if he ever got the chance.

As he stood beside Olivia on the sidewalk, he heard a siren in the distance.

“We gotta get out of here,” he heard himself say, even when he’d like to surrender to the cops.

That is not an option.

I was just indulging in a tempting fantasy.

Before the silent exchange was completed, he reached into the car and grabbed the box, then grabbed Olivia’s hand.

“Come on.”

She seemed to emerge from a fog, looking around for an escape route.

“Where?”

They were hemmed in by a chain-link fence that closed off the parking lot of a warehouse to their right. And if they crossed the street, they’d be right in the headlights of any oncoming police cars.

As the sirens drew closer, Luke pointed up the narrow sidewalk. “This way.”

Quickly he led her along the fence, hurrying to round the corner before the cops arrived.

He knew she was struggling to keep up with his long-legged strides. And he could hear her breathing hard as they reached the end of the block, then put the side of the building between themselves and the car.

“I have a stitch in my side,” she gasped. “Can we rest?”

“Not yet.”

Ahead of them he could see that the neighborhood changed again—back to an older residential area lined with row houses.

He kept pounding up the street, then through a passageway between two row houses.

At the other end, Olivia stopped and leaned against the wall.

He gave her a couple of minutes before murmuring, “We’d better go.”

They hurried through the backyard of the row house, then into the alley. A few more houses down the block, a man was standing outside, smoking a cigarette.

“Don’t look at him. He’s just grabbing a smoke. But we don’t want him to remember us—if anyone asks. Walk normally, like we’re just a man and a woman out for an evening stroll.”

To reinforce the impression, he reached down and clasped her hand.

They continued up the alley, holding hands. Did they look normal? He hoped so. And at the same time, he hoped he could do a better job of sorting out his thought processes. Having the warrior in his head was a constant strain—even when the man kept his virtual mouth shut.

“The Poisoned Ones may show up at the accident scene,” he said, surprised and a little alarmed that he’d used Zabastian’s terminology.

He didn’t like the implications. But he had more immediate issues to deal with. He and Olivia were on foot, and that put them at a disadvantage, since he knew the bad guys had at least one car.

Would the Poisoned Ones keep looking for them close to Peterbalm’s office? Or would they spread out over the city?

As they walked, Luke scanned the working class neighborhood that bordered the warehouse district. Each house had its own rectangular backyard, most marked off by chain link or high wooden fences. Sometimes there was a detached garage at the end of the yard. Sometimes a parking pad.

A lot of the cars were old and battered, which was a plus, as far as Luke was concerned.

He hadn’t exactly been a Boy Scout in high school. And since getting out of the old neighborhood, he’d done his best to forget about his checkered past. But back in the bad old days, he and his friends had boosted more than a few cars and gone joyriding in them.

Lucky for him he’d never gotten caught, although he’d had some close calls.

Good, the warrior commented.

Good that I know how to steal a car? Or good that I didn’t get caught?

Both.

I guess it was easier to steal an oxcart.

If you got caught, they chopped off your hand. Or your head—if you were unlucky.

He winced, switched away from the internal conversation, and thought about the immediate problem. Being technically oriented, he still remembered the basic method of hot-wiring a car. Unfortunately, it only worked in older models.

As he thought about twisting wires together, he felt the big Z eavesdropping with extreme interest.

Thinking about a life of crime? he silently asked.

I’m trying to survive in your world.

A car will get us out of here. But criminals rarely escape the law for long.

He began walking more slowly, testing the door handles on the vehicles he passed. When he came to one that was unlocked, he stopped and looked around. The darkness hid them, but if someone was looking out the window, that was bad news.

He turned to Olivia. “I’m going to try to cross the wires on this wreck. If the cops come, start running.” He walked to the gate of the nearest yard and made sure it opened. Then he looked inside and saw one of the passages that led between the houses.

Pointing, he said, “Stay in the shadows over there.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll call you over when I’m ready.” He hesitated, then overruled Zabastian’s objection and handed Olivia the box.

She stared at him in surprise. “What if we get separated?”

“I can find you.”

“How?”

“There is something inside me that . . .” He hesitated, then finished, “that lets me home in on the box.”

“You—meaning Zabastian—can do that?”

“Yeah.”

She dragged in a breath. “Okay.”

Probably she didn’t believe him. Luke wasn’t sure he believed it himself. But he felt the big Z’s absolute conviction.

Unfortunately, the only way to prove it was to lose the damn thing. And he wasn’t planning to do that if he could help it.

Don’t even think about it, the warrior warned.

He opened the door of the car and immediately started coughing. It smelled like whoever owned this vehicle must be a chain smoker. The ashtray full of butts proved the point.

Luke pulled out the ashtray and pitched the contents into a patch of weeds.

Then he returned to the car. Emptying the butts helped. But the air was still strong enough to cut with a knife.

What in the name of the full moon is that stuff?”

Cigarettes.

Did someone poison the car?

Yeah, but the guy who drives it likes this particular brand of poison. It’s from a product he smokes. If he’s unlucky, it will kill him. If he’s lucky, it will only shorten his life.

Luke cut off the interior conversation as he slid onto the dirty floor under the steering column and turned on the small flashlight attached to his key ring so he could peer at the tangle of wires.

He hadn’t done this kind of job in years, and it took several minutes for him to get his bearings.

He sorted through electrical connections, then tried a combination of wires.

Nothing happened, and he cursed under his breath.

You know how to do this?

Shut up.

oOo

Olivia ducked into the passageway. Luke was going to hot-wire the car. And while he was busy, she had her own agenda.

She’d grabbed her cell phone on the way out of the office and slid it into the pocket of her pants, but she hadn’t been able to call for help. Now she had the chance to do it.

Quietly she turned her back and pulled out the phone.

Fingers crossed, she pressed the end button to activate the instrument. She knew the battery was low, and she was praying there was still enough juice left to make a call.

When she got a dial tone, she sighed with relief.

Beth was on her speed dial, and she quickly worked the control buttons. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and she held her breath, praying that her friend hadn’t left for dinner yet.

She’d almost given up hope when the other woman answered.

“Beth! Thank God.”

“Olivia?”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

Now that she had her friend on the line, she realized how strange her problem was going to sound. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Just go slow and tell me what’s wrong.”

She dragged in a breath and let it out in a rush. “That box. You said it belonged to a religious cult.”

“Yes.”

“Men came into the office and tried to steal it. They started shooting.”

Beth made a strangled sound. “Are you shot? Are you okay?”

“They didn’t hurt me.”

“Thank God.”

She glanced back at the car, seeing Luke’s legs sticking out the driver’s door. What would he do if he caught her on the phone? Well, not Luke. The other guy—Zabastian. Was she saying she believed in the warrior? As nutty as it seemed, she knew she had bought into the explanation for Luke’s odd behavior.

“I’m on the run,” she told Beth.

“Where are you?”

“In an alley. I’m not sure where, exactly.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “This is going to sound crazy.”

“I was afraid that box was trouble. Is it stolen? Is that it?”

Olivia gasped. “What makes you think so?”

“Beth hesitated a moment. “Your description. It’s too valuable to come in a random antique shipment. Did the owners come after it?”

“No. It was someone else. But let me back up. What happened was, my computer broke in the middle of the inventory, and Luke Garner came to fix it.”

“That guy you said you liked?”

“Yes. After he got the computer going again, he stuck around and started fiddling with the box—and he opened it.” She caught her breath and blurted, “You said the Moon Priests might have magic powers. I think they do. Or the box does. When Luke opened it, some mist came shooting out. Luke passed out, and when he woke up, he was somebody else. The spirit of an ancient warrior who’s supposed to protect the box.”

“O-o-okay.”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me. It sounds too crazy.”

“It does.” Her friend paused. “But I read about the Moon Priests. Maybe they were magic. Plus, I know you don’t make things up. I’ve never seen you drunk or on drugs. And I know you’re mentally stable. So just tell me what happened after that.” Olivia looked toward the car again. Luke was still busy. Hunching her shoulders, she turned away from him and walked a few feet farther down the alley. “We were in a car accident. We had to run away before the cops got there.”

“Why?”

“Long story. I’ve got to talk fast—before he tries to stop me.”

Beth’s voice turned hard as ice. “He’s kidnapped you or something!”

“Um . . . not him. The ancient warrior. When the men came to steal the box, we split. Luke says we have to get the box to the Master of the Moon. He says . . . “

Her sentence trailed off as a large hand lifted the phone out of her grasp.

“Olivia? Olivia?” Beth called from the other end of the line. But she was talking to herself now.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” the man who held the phone asked, his voice deep and menacing. As he spoke, he clicked the off button. Then he dropped the phone on the ground and smashed it under his heel.

“I need that phone.”

“You can’t be trusted with it.”

She raised her chin. “I assume that’s Zabastian speaking.”

“Yes.”

She saw his face change and suspected Luke was also involved now. “Answer my question. What were you doing?”

“Calling my friend Beth.”

“Why?”

“We need help.”

“I will be the judge of that.”

“Like you were the judge of driving the car—and wrecking it?”

He glared at her. “Get in the vehicle. We have to get out of here.”

When she didn’t move, he took her firmly by the arm and marched her to the wreck.

She was about to climb into the passenger side when a door across the alley opened.

“Hey,” a man’s voice called in the dark. “What are you freaking doing with Eddie’s car?”

A flashlight beam hit her in the face, and she raised her arm to shield her eyes.

The beam switched to Luke.

oOo

Luke swore under his breath. “I am a friend of Eddie,” he answered. “He is lending the vehicle to me.”

Stop talking like a robot, he shouted to the man inside his mind. But it was already too late.

“The hell you are. You sound weird. And I’ve never seen you around here before.” As he spoke, the man stepped out of the door and walked rapidly down to the alley. “You’ll get away from that car if you know what’s good for you,” he announced.

He was a large guy, over six feet tall and well built. Probably he had about fifty pounds on Luke, and he looked to be in his mid to late twenties.

As he advanced, Luke glanced toward Olivia. “Get in the car,” he shouted.

Instead, she took a step back. Lord, was she going to run? He wanted to grab her, but he was too busy with Eddie’s neighbor.

Zabastian let the guy get within striking distance, then reached out a hand and started to bring it down on the man’s shoulder.

No, Luke shouted inside his head. He knew that Zabastian intended a killing blow.

You can’t kill him. We’re stealing his neighbor’s car. We’re the ones in the wrong.

Somehow he stopped the blow in midair.

Zabastian bellowed. And Eddie’s neighbor seized the opportunity to aim a right hook at Luke’s jaw.

Luke ducked the blow, preparing to strike back. But Zabastian beat him to it. As the attacker charged forward again, Zabastian stiffened one finger and jabbed the man in the ribs. It didn’t feel like a serious blow, but it must have hit a very sensitive spot.

The fellow gave an anguished grunt and went down on his knees on the gravel parking pad.

“Come on.” This time when Luke grabbed Olivia’s arm, she let him help her into the car, then coughed when she took a breath of the smoke-stained air.

Luke ran around the other side and slid behind the wheel, setting the box on the seat between them.

She cleared her throat. “Let Luke do the driving.”

“I am.”

As he pulled out of the parking spot, he knew she was watching him carefully. Then she glanced back at the man on the ground.

“What did you do to him?”

“Not much. A maneuver I learned in my training.”

“Your hands are deadly,” Olivia breathed

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you kill the . . . guys you call the Poisoned Ones?”

“I was . . . getting used to Luke’s body.”

Olivia made a strangled sound, then gave him a direct look. “Where are we going?”

“I’m thinking.” Luke was the one who answered, wracking his brain as he tried to come up with a hiding place.

oOo

Luke drove down the alley, then turned right and onto one of the narrow streets. He took several turns, aware that Olivia was watching him.

“You don’t know where you’re going?” she accused.

“I’m looking for something,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Different license plates for this car.”

“Huh?”

“We’re in a stolen vehicle, in case you don’t remember that scene a little while ago. If that guy turns in a description of the car to the cops, I want different plates.”

“More stealing?”

“Sorry.”

He pulled to a stop beside another junker car and waited for several minutes, watching the houses on either side of the alley, trying to see if anyone was looking out the window or standing on a porch.

Finally, he reached for the handle, then turned back to Olivia.

“Can I trust you to stay in the car this time? And warn me if you see anyone coming?”

“Yes.”

He gave her a long look, then watched her slump down in her seat so that her eyes were at the bottom of the windshield.

Mercifully, Zabastian had been silent for several minutes. But as Luke climbed out of the car, the warrior sent him a thought.

She’s cooperating for the moment. But you must learn to control her better.

Annoyance shot through Luke. I’m not the boss of her.

A woman must listen when a man speaks

Not in this world. In the twenty-first century, women are the equal of men.

You must be making a joke!

Stick around, and you’ll find out.

Luke squatted beside the car, keeping one eye peeled for trouble and hoping he wasn’t going to get shot when he started working on the license plates.