But when she reached out for it with her mind, she could bring it no closer.

She struggled with impatience and tried to imagine how the key would feel in her hand. Smooth, she thought, and cool.

No, it would have heat. It held power. She would feel that fire from which it was forged, and when she closed her fist over it, it would fit easily in her palm.

Because she was meant to hold it.

The color washed away to a strong white lined with black. The key seemed to melt into it, a shimmering gold pool that dripped over black and white, then faded away.

In her mind she heard a long sigh. A womans sigh. And felt, heard, a rush of wind that smelled like autumn burning.

She walked at night, and was the night with all its shadows and all its secrets. When she wept, she wept for day.

The words that ran through her mind brought such an ache she thought her heart might bleed dry from it, as from a mortal wound. In defense, she shut them off.

Everything faded again. And she could smell the paint, and the perfume.

She opened her eyes, saw her friends watching her.

“Honey, are you all right?”Zoe spoke gently as she freed her hand from Malorys and touched Danas cheek.

“Sure. Yeah.”

“Youre crying.”Zoe dried Danas cheek with the bandanna.

“Am I? I dont know why. Something hurt, I guess. You know.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “In here. I dont know where it is. I still dont know where the key is.”

She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her face and told them what shed imagined.

“She walks at night,” Malory repeated. “The goddess walks.”

“Yeah. It sounded sort of familiar, but I couldve made it up. Or it could apply toNiniane . I just know it made me horribly sad.”

She got to her feet, walked to the window to open it. She needed air. “Shes alone in the dark— thats how I think of her. Theyre all alone in the dark. If I dont do what needs to be done, theyll stay in the dark.”

Zoewalked over to press her cheek to the back of Danas shoulder. “Theyve got each other, and theyve got us. Dont beat yourself up. Youre trying.”

“And I think youre getting somewhere.” Malory joined them at the window. “Im not saying that to be annoyingly optimistic. Youre putting the different parts of Rowenas clue together. Your brains working them out, shifting them around, trying to make them fit. And I think with this last attempt, youve started to use your heart.

“Its not just your mind that has to be open,” Malory added when Dana turned her head to stare at her. “Your heart has to be. Thats one thing I learned. You cant take that last leap otherwise. You wont be ready to risk whats on the other side.”

SHE didnt know why it bothered her, bothered her to the point of anger. Open her heart? What was that supposed to mean? Was she supposed to strip her emotions bare so anyone could come in on a whim and dance all over them?

Wasnt it enough that she was working her ass off, giving herself headaches with hours of research, note-taking, calculating, and supposition?

She cared, damn it, she thought as she slammed into her apartment. She cared about those three young women, half goddess, half mortal, and trapped for eternity inside a glass prison.

She had shed tears for them, would shed blood if necessary.

How much more open did she have to be? Tired, achy, irritable, she strode to the kitchen, popped the top on a beer, ripped open a bag of pretzels to go with it. She dropped into a chair in the living room to sip, munch, and sulk. Take the last leap?

She was going up against an ancient and powerful sorcerer. She was risking nearly every cent she had on a new business. Shed ordered shelving and tables, chairs, and books. Lets not forget the books.

Then there was the cappuccino machine, the individual teapots, the glassware, the paper products that would max out her credit card in very short order.

And she was doing it all without any projected income. If that wasnt a goddamn leap, what was?

Easy for Malory to talk about open hearts and last leaps. Shed already done her part, and was allcozied up with Flynn in connubial bliss.

Got your house and your dog and your man, Dana thought with a scowl. Congratulations all around. And, God, she was being such a bitch. She let her head fall back and stared up at the ceiling. “Face it, Dana, youre jealous. Not only did Malory come through the test with a big fat A, she earned all the goodies. And here you are, spinning your wheels, sleeping with a man whos already broken your heart once, and terrified youre going to blow it all.“

She hauled herself up at the knock on her door, and took the beer with her to answer.

Moe shoved his nose into her crotch by way of greeting, then rushed past her to claim the mangled rope hed left on the rug during his last visit.

He pranced back, ears flopping, to whack the rope hopefully against her knees.

“You didnt come by to get Moe,” Jordan commented.

“I forgot.” She shrugged, then walked back and dropped into the chair again.

Jordan closed the door behind him, tossed the manila envelope he carried on a table. He knew that look, he thought as he studied Danas face. She was sulking and working her way up to a serious mad.

“Whats going on?”

“Nothing much.” Since Moe was trying to crawl into her lap, she tugged the rope out of his teeth and tossed it to Jordan.

It had the expected and for her, gratifying, result of causing Moe to charge him like a bull charges a matador. And like a matador uses his cape, Jordan flicked the rope down and to the side: Man and dog played tug-of-war while dog growled playfully and man stared at woman.

“Long day? I was going to come by and give you a hand, but I got caught up in stuff.”

“Were managing everything.”

“An extra pair of hands couldnt hurt.”

“You want to put your hands to good use?”

“Its a thought.”

“Fine.” She pushed out of the chair, headed toward the bedroom. “Bring them along with you.”

Jordan lifted a brow at Moe. “Sorry, kiddo, youre on your own. I think Im about to play a different sort of game.”

He followed Dana into the bedroom, shut the door. He heard Moe collapse on the other side with a huge doggie sigh.

Shed already stripped off her sweatshirt and shoes and was unbuttoning her jeans. “Lose the clothes.”

“Got an itch, Stretch?”

“Thats right.” She wiggled out of the jeans, tossed back her hair. “Got any problem scratching it?”

“Cant seem to think of one.” He shrugged outofthe coat, threw it aside.

He got rid of his shoes, his shirt, while she pulled down the covers. Hed been off about her mood, he realized. Shed already worked herself up to a good mad and was looking for a handy place to put it.

When she reached up to unclasp her bra, he stepped over, gripped her hands, trapping them—for one erotic moment—behind her. Then he released her to trail his fingers down her spine. “Leave something for me, will you?” She shrugged, then fisting a hand in his hair, yanked his mouth to hers.

She used her teeth, her nails, setting the mood for fast, hot sex with just a hint of mean. She wasnt looking for fancy touches or soft flourishes but for sweat and speed.

She felt his bodys instant response, the hard hammer blow of his heart, the lightning strike of heat that punched out of him and straight through her. His mouth fed off hers, and his hands began to take, fingers digging in to brand and bruise.

She was already wet and ready when she shoved him back on the bed.

She would have straddled him and made quick work of it, but he flipped her over, trapped her body under his. Set his teeth on her breast. Her hips jerked, her hands clamped on his, and she ground herself against him in frantic, furious demand.

His vision hazed with red as the fierce bite of need tore through his system. He yanked her bra down to her waist, filled his mouth with her even as he shoved his hand between them, drove his fingers into the heat of her and shot her brutally over the edge.

She exploded under him, her body writhing, straining, then gathering itself for another leap. Her nails bit into him, her hipspistoned until he was as wild as she.

They rolled, grappling for more in a slippery, mindless battle that had thrill ramming into thrill. Her mouth was fevered and ravenous, her hands greedy and swift.

He knew hed rather die warring with her than live in peace with anyone else.

With her breath sobbing, she rose over him and took him inside her with one hard thrust.

The dark glory of it gushed through her, flooded her until the anger and doubts drowned.

This was real, she told herself. This was enough.

And she watched him watch her take him.

Fast and hot, focused on those twin goals of pleasure and release. She rode him with a ruthless energy that turned her own body into a morass of greed. For speed, for passion. For more.

When she felt his fingers vise her hips, when she saw those brilliant blue eyes go blind, she threw her head back and flew off the end of the world with him.

She was still shuddering as she slid down to him. Her breath was as ragged as his when her head fell heavy on his shoulder. He managed to hook an arm around her and decided he would probably regain feeling in his extremities at some point.

For now, it was just fine to lie there bruised, battered, and blissful.

“Feel better?” he asked her.

“Considerably. You?” “No complaints. When my ears stop ringing, you might want to tell me what set you off today.”