“Dont plan to.”

“Then whats in the bag?”

“Stuff.” He squeezed inside, around his dog and his sister. “I hear you had a rough one last night.”

“It was an experience, and Im not in the mood to rehash it. Its after ten. Im working, then Im sleeping.”

With, she thought, every light in the apartment burning, just as she had the night before.

“Fine. Heres his stuff.”

“Whose stuff?”

“Moes. Ill haul over the big-ass bag of dog food tomorrow, but theres enough in there for his breakfast.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She looked in the bag hed shoved into her arms and saw a mangled tennis ball, a tattered rope, a box of dog biscuits on top of about five pounds of dry dog food.

“What the hell is this?”

“His stuff,” Flynn repeated cheerfully, and grunted when Moe leaped up to plant his paws on his shoulders. “Moes your new temporary roommate. Well,gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, no, you dont.” She tossed the bag on a chair, beat him to the door by a step, and threw herself against it. “Youre not walking out that door without this dog.”

He gave her a smile that was both mildly quizzical and wholly innocent. “You just said I couldnt sleep here.”

“You cant. Neither can he.” “Now look, youve hurt his feelings.” He looked sorrowfully at Moe, who was trying to nose his way into the bag. “Its all right, big guy. She didnt mean it.”

“Give me a break.”

“You dont know what dogs understand. Scientific tests are inconclusive.” He gave Dana a brotherly pat on the cheek. “So anyway, Moes going to stay for a couple weeks. Play guard dog.”

“Guard dog?” She noted that Moe was now chewing on the bag. “Give me a serious break.”

Obviously not finding the brown paper to his taste, Moe wandered off to sniff for crumbs, and Flynn sat down, stretched out his legs. Hed reconsidered his strategy and decided that this tack was foolproof with Dana. “Okay. Ill stay and be guard dog since you have no faith in Moe. Lets flip a coin for the bed.”

“Im the only one sleeping in my bed, and I have less faith in you than I do in that big mutt, who is currently chasing his own tail. Moe! Cut that out before you wreck my place.”

She considered just tearing out her own hair when Moe bashed against a table in his desperate attempt to latch teeth onto tail, and sent books thudding down on his head.

He gave a startled bark and scrambled toward Flynn for protection.

“Go away, Flynn, and take your klutzy dog with you.”

Flynn simply lifted his legs and used Moe as a footstool. “Lets just go over our options,” he began.

Twenty minutes later Dana stomped into the kitchen. She stopped short, hissed through her teeth when she saw the contents of her trash can strewed from one end of the floor to the other and Moe happily sprawled over the mess of it, chewing on a wad of paper towels.

“How does he do it? How the hell did he talk me into this?” And that, she admitted, was the mystery of Flynn Hennessy. You never knew just how he managed to box you into the corner of his choice.

She crouched down, got nose to nose with Moe.

Moe rolled his eyes to the side, avoiding hers. Dana swore that if dogs could whistle, shed have heard the I-wasnt-doing-anything tune coming out of the dogs mouth. “Okay, pal, you and I are going to go over the rules of the household.”

He responded by licking her face, then flopping over to expose his belly. * * *

SHE woke with the sun streaming over her face and her legs paralyzed. The sun was easy to explain. Shed forgotten to draw the curtains again. And her legs werent paralyzed, she realized after a moment of panic. They were trapped under the massive bulk of Moe.

“Okay, this is no way to begin.” She sat up, then shoved the dog hard.“

“I said no dogs allowed on the bed. I was very clear about that rule.”

He moaned, an oddly human sound that made her lips twitch. Then he opened one eye. Then that eye brightened with manic joy.

“No!”

But it was too late. In one leap, hed trapped not only her legs but her entire body. Dancing paws pressed into her belly, her breasts, her crotch. His tongue slathered her face with desperate love.

“Stop it! Down! Mary Mother of God!” And she was laughing hysterically, wrestling with him, until he leaped off the bed and raced out of the room.

“Whew.” She pushed at her hair. It was definitely not the way she cared to wake, as a rule. But for one day she could make an exception.

Now she needed coffee. Immediately.

Before she could throw back the covers, Moe bounded back in.

“No! Dont you do it! Dont you bring that horrible, disgusting ball into this bed.”

Her usual morning speed approximated that of a snail on Valium, but one look at the tennis ball in Moes mouth had her moving like an Olympic sprinter. She hit the floor, causing Moe to change direction and go into a skid. He thudded against the bed frame, then, undaunted, spat the ball at her feet.

“We do not play fetch the ball in the house. We do not play fetch the ball when Im naked, which, you may notice, I am. We do not play fetch the ball before I have coffee.”

He cocked his head charmingly and lifted a paw.

“Were going to have to compromise. First Ill getunnaked .” She went to the closet for her robe. “Then Ill have my first cup of coffee. After which Ill take you for a very, very brief walk during which you can relieve your bladder and play fetch the ball for exactly three minutes. Take it or leave it.”

* * * SHE didnt know how he did it—like master, like dog, she supposed—but she ended up spending a good twenty minutes playing with Moe in the park.

This was not her morning routine, and if there was anything that was sacrosanct to Dana, it was her morning routine. She could admit that she felt more energized and more cheerful after the interlude with the goofy dog. But she wasnt going to tell Moe that, or anyone else.

He gobbled down his breakfast while she ate hers, then fortunately for all involved, plopped down for a quick morning nap while she substituted Othello for her current breakfast book.

To stay fresh, to let it all simmer in her head, she switched gears after thirty minutes, and chose one of the books on sorcery. However wily and amoralIago was, Kane was more so—and he had power. Maybe there was a way to undermine it, or deflect it, while she searched for the key.

She read of white magic, and of black. Of sorcery and necromancy. And it was different, she realized as she made her notes, when you knew the fantastic you read of was real.

Not fantasy. Not lies, but truth.

She had to remember that, she thought as she closed—the book. It was essential that she remember the truth.

* * *

IT was very satisfying, Dana discovered when she was hip-deep in work at Indulgence, to prime the dull wall with fresh white paint.

Our place, she thought.

As they painted, she briefedZoe and Malory on her visit to the Peak and what shed learned.

“So he can hurt us.” Frowning,Zoe added more paint to the automatic roller for Malory. “Or we can hurt ourselves. I guess thats what it really means.”

“If we drift too far beyond actual reality, yeah,” Dana agreed. “I think thats what it means.”

“But he cant hurt us unless we allow it,” Malory put in. “The trick is not to allow it, which is not as easy as it sounds.”

“You dont have to tell me.” The memory of her brush with Kane still made Dana shudder. “Its not just finding the last two keys, its protecting ourselves.”

“And the people around us,”Zoe reminded her. “He went after Flynn, too. If he tries anything with Simon— anything—Ill spend the rest of my life hunting him down.”

“Dont worry, Mom.” Dana reached over to squeezeZoes shoulder. “When your turn comes, well all look after Simon. We can always send Moe to protect him,” she added to lighten the mood. She sent a steely look at Malory. “A true friend wouldve called and warned me I was about to get a dog.”

“A true friend knew youd sleep better at night with a dog snoring beside the bed.”

“Beside, my ass. He snuck onto the bed when I was sleeping. Which means Id have slept through an earthquake last night, as hes not what we can call stealthy. And Moe-proofing the apartment is no snap, just let me add. Not to mention Im not allowed to have dogs in my building in the first place.”

“Its just for a few weeks and mostly at night,” Malory reminded her. “You did sleep better, too. I can tell by your mood.”

“Maybe I did. Anyway, I should fill you in on what Im doing about the key.”

* * *

WITH the first room primed, they moved to the next and the more tedious chore of cutting in around the trim.

“Jealousy, sorcery, getting inside Kanes skin.” Standing on the new stepladder, Malory took on the task of painting the ceiling. “Thats very smart.”

“I think so. The answers in a book. Its got to be. Yours dealt with painting, and one of the daughters, the one who looks like you, is an artist. Well, a musician, but thats an art.”

Zoeglanced over. “I sure as hell hope that means I dont have to take up fencing because my goddess carries a sword.”

“She also has that cute little puppy,” Malory put in.

“I cant get a dog right now. I know Simon would love one, but—oh, you were taking my mind off the sword.”

“There you go.”

Dana sat back on her heels, stretched her back. “Puppy, sword—metaphors for something. Well figure it out when the time comes. But if we follow this theme, Malorys key dealt with painting. Malorys dream was being an artist, but she didnt have the chops for it…”