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was he?
    More important, how was she going to get out of this place and back to safety when she still couldn’t see a thing?
    She could feel the brush of air. The air was fresh, and that meant there was an opening somewhere in front of her. Her fingers curved over a loose piece of stone on the wall, and she gripped it tightly.
    When the steps followed her, Maddie tossed the stone behind her hard, listening to it strike the opposite wall. The footsteps moved away. Maddie shot forward, searching the wall for a handhold. She didn’t know who this strange man was, and she wasn’t staying around to find out.
    She grabbed at a small ledge and climbed quickly, then pulled her body up to another recess in the stone.
    The footsteps stopped. She imagined the man standing motionless, listening, trying to pinpoint her location.
    Neither one spoke. Both were assessing probabilities.
    Wind brushed her face, and she heard the rustle of fabric. She let out a yelp as strong hands clasped her legs and yanked her out of her hiding place, fighting and kicking. He didn’t wince when her foot slammed into his side. He made no sound when she slapped and clawed at his face. More than anything else this told Maddie he was a cold professional.
    Then she toppled back, striking the wall. She managed to kick his head and break free. They both tumbled in a sprawl of arms and muttered oaths, collapsing onto the cold floor of the crypt.
    Dimly Maddie realized he had twisted to brace her fall with his body. Her head struck not stone but his shoulder, solid with muscle. His hand gripped her waist, holding her at his chest.
    Even then he made no sound. No curses, no accusations. Who was he?
    She dug her bare foot into his ribs, fighting blindly. “Let go , you creep!”
    His hand locked over her mouth. “Do not think to flee.” His voice was a cold whisper at her ear. “I am not the only one in wait for you. And I do not mean your inept criminals in the shadows. Others are close now—men of strength and true evil. I am not the only one who knows the gate. When you fought against me, the force of your emotions cast a net and that will bring them in pursuit. Now lie still. Make no noise. I must prepare.”
    When Maddie gave another angry squirm, he pressed down hard in warning. He did not hurt her. He meant only to control, not to punish her.
    Who was he, she wondered again. And what was that thing he’d said about the force of her emotions? “What do you mean by others ?”
    “Be still. I must listen.”
    Against every instinct, she stopped fighting, listening just as he did. There had been something in his voice, some harsh warning that rang true. But what did he mean about these others—and a gate?
    Be real, Maddie. The man is probably high on drugs. And you’re an idiot for thinking any of this could be true.
    And yet, though her heart hammered, she waited without fighting, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath hers. She wished she could see his face. She was pretty good at reading people. She could have judged if he was liar—or a lunatic.
    But the shadows were impenetrable. She could feel the hammer of his heart beneath her bare arm. She felt the locked line of his muscles that told of his readiness for attack.
    “I don’t get it,” she whispered. “What is this gate thing?”
    “Hush. I will explain what I can to you but not now.” He rose slowly onto an elbow, lifting her with him, her body still locked to his. “No more noise. It is not safe.”
    Maddie heard a sound and felt his hand rise. He tossed something in the direction where she thought the steps were. A pale greenish light floated over the ancient stone, creeping up the carved wall.
    How in the heck had he done that? She had a quick glimpse of his face in the pale light: lean cheeks. Intent eyes. Thick hair that skimmed his shoulders.
    Then her questions were forgotten. Maddie saw fingers of fog cross the stones—not the natural fog that came from condensation and