The room was black. He couldn't see anything, not even a small crack of light. Matthew scrubbed his nose with the back of his hand. For the moment, he didn't mind the darkness. It meant no one could see he'd been crying.

He hadn't seen Lizzie since they'd dragged him from the trunk of the car and down a long series of steps to this room. He'd been hot and sweaty and thirsty, but he hadn't said anything. Just curled up in one corner of the bed like a scared animal.

Matthew sniffed. No wonder the guys at school hated him. They must have known what a coward he was.

Beyond the darkness of his room, he heard footsteps. He hugged his knees tighter and wished he'd listened to his mom. At least then he'd be home—though if his dad was there, drunk and beating up on her again, he was probably better off here.

The footsteps stopped. He stared into the darkness, his heart pounding in his ears. A door opened, and light flooded the room. He threw up a hand to protect his eyes.

"Matthew Kincaid, I gather."

He swallowed. He didn't like the sound of that voice. It was low pitched and hollow, as if the stranger spoke from the bottom of a deep well.

"Yes?” he said, his own voice high and shaky. He squinted but couldn't see anything more than a shadow. A big shadow—with wheels.

"You made several claims to Elizabeth. I hope they are true."

Elizabeth? Did he mean Lizzie? Matthew edged further into the corner. “Who are you?"

"No one you should fear if you told the truth."

"I did, I really did. Except for my age."

"For your sake, I hope so. Elizabeth? Make our young friend a little more ... comfortable, will you?"

The door closed, leaving him in blackness again. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and wished he'd had the courage to ask for a drink.

"How are you feeling, Matthew?"

He yelped and scrambled down to the far end of the bed, hands shaking as he stared into the darkness. The voice had come from right beside his bed, yet he couldn't see anyone.

"Relax. I mean you no harm."

He edged further away. “I don't believe you."

"You wanted to come here. You wanted to see Yellowstone with me, remember?"

"This isn't Yellowstone."

"No. But we're close. We could go there soon—tomorrow perhaps."

"I want to go home,” he muttered sullenly. “This isn't fun."

"Reality never is,” Lizzie agreed. “Look at me, Matthew."

"I can't see...” His voice faded. Gold fire flickered to life in the darkness. He stared. The flame grew brighter, transforming itself into a pair of dark amber eyes.

Something touched his hand. He tried to pull away, but couldn't. The eyes drew closer until they filled his sight. The touch moved to his neck. Pain hit him, filling his body. He tried to scream but no sound came out...

...Nikki jerked upright, the scream dying on her lips. MacEwan and Sondra were staring at her, their expressions alarmed and confused.

"Christ Almighty, what was that all about?” MacEwan reached for the pack of cigarettes on the side table.

"That was something I really hadn't expected.” How in the hell had she joined minds with Matthew? It was something she'd only ever done once, when Michael had telepathically channeled her psychometry abilities in an effort to find and save Jake from Jasper's clutches.

"That doesn't really explain what just happened. You were scampering across the floor like some frightened animal."

It was only then that she realized she was no longer sitting on the sofa but on the floor, close to the fireplace. Heat crept across her cheeks. She must have been acting out what was happening to Matthew.

She rose and walked back to the sofa, grabbing her drink from the side table. The ice had melted, making her wonder just how long she'd been in Matthew's thoughts.

She sat down. Sondra's face was ghostly, and there was fear in her eyes. Nikki wondered if it was fear of what had just happened—or maybe fear of her.

"Answer the damn question,” MacEwan growled. “What in the hell just happened?"

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. It was a good question and not one she was entirely sure she could answer. “Instead of seeing images like I usually do, I somehow joined Matthew's mind. Became him, if you like."

MacEwan frowned. “So what you were doing was what Matthew was doing?"

For someone who supposedly didn't believe in psychic talents, he caught on pretty fast. “Yes."

"Then he's alive?"

"Yes.” Though given the woman was apparently feeding off him, she wasn't about to take bets on how long he would remain that way.

MacEwan took several puffs on his cigarette and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. “Any idea where?"

Nikki shrugged. “The woman mentioned Yellowstone National Park, but that doesn't mean he's anywhere near there."

"Well, if it's Yellowstone, that pins it down to either Wyoming, Montana or Idaho,” MacEwan said dryly. “Don't suppose you care to be a little more specific?"

She glanced at the watch still clenched in her hand. “Wyoming. He's in Wyoming.” The images reached for her again—images filled with lust and wanting. She shuddered and thrust the watch back in the bag.

MacEwan sniffed. “Jackson is the biggest town near Yellowstone. I'll send a report to the sheriff's department, get them to keep an eye open."

"He's not in Jackson.” She frowned, concentrating on the ghostly images still flitting past the protection of the bag. “But some place called Jackson Hole."

"Ski resort area,” MacEwan muttered. “I'll see what I can do."

Nikki nodded and gulped down the rest of her drink. “You mind if I keep the watch for a while?"

MacEwan's look was shrewd. “You intending to track down Kincaid?"

She nodded. Just because they were near Yellowstone now didn't mean they would stay there, and Wyoming was a big place. She'd need something to help pin down his exact location.

"You said the man who took my niece had Wyoming plates,” MacEwan continued, his voice flat once again. “Don't suppose you'd want to take something of hers along and see if you can find anything once you're there?"

She had a feeling saying no wasn't an option. “I'll take the bra. Just don't expect miracles."

He nodded. “And don't go anywhere before you give me that description."

"I won't.” She rose and offered her hand to Sondra. “Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

Sondra's grip was wet. “Thank you for trying."

The dam in her brown eyes was threatening to overflow again. Nikki quickly followed MacEwan out of the room.

He opened the front door then scowled down at her. “If you find anything on Rachel, no matter how small, I want to be told."

Or there would be serious consequences, she thought. “I'll see you this afternoon."

The door slammed shut behind her. She stopped, studying the traffic flowing past. Despite the early hour, the air was already uncomfortably hot. She shaded her eyes and glanced up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, despite the weathermen promising relief in the form of severe thunderstorms. In this day and age, how could they get it so wrong so often?

It was useless going home. Though she was dog-tired, she wouldn't sleep. Not in this heat, and not until she knew how Jake was.

She glanced back at MacEwan's house. Maybe she should use his phone and call a cab. But that would mean facing Sondra again. Nikki grimaced. She'd never been comfortable with overt displays of emotion—which, she thought bitterly, was part of the reason Michael had left. Besides, she doubted if she actually had enough cash on her to pay for a cab.

Taking a bus was definitely out as an option. Given it was nearly eight-thirty, the buses would be overflowing with the day's workers. She'd probably end up crammed nose first in someone's armpit. No thanks. But she'd left her car at the office, so her only other option was walking. She resolutely walked toward the business district.

It took nearly an hour to reach the single story office block that was the agency's home. She leaned her forehead against the door for several minutes, not having the energy to reach into her pocket and get the keys. Sweat dripped off her chin, splattering to the pavement, only to dry almost instantly. If you listened hard enough, she thought, you'd probably hear it sizzling.

Above the noise of the morning traffic came the soft whump-whump of rotor blades—a helicopter, flying low. She glanced up. A sleek black and silver machine swept from behind the buildings at the end of the street and flew towards her. It was low—too low really, unless they were intending to land. Trouble was, none of the nearby buildings had helipads big enough to handle a helicopter of that size. The nearest was down near the docks.

It swept over her building, the noise almost deafening, then did a sharp left and disappeared. The noise faded. Probably one of those traffic reporters checking the roads for the local radio station—though if that were the case, why had the windows been so darkly tinted? Shrugging, she entered the office, dumping the two plastic bags on her desk before walking across to the counter that held the coffeepot. Jake had left it on earlier, presuming they'd only be gone a few hours. She bit her lip, blinking back the sting of tears. Jake would be all right. He'd survived Jasper. Surely he could survive this.

She grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee. It looked strong enough to hold a stick upright, but she didn't care. The coffee was hot and, more importantly, full of caffeine. Just the sort of energy boost she needed.

She headed back to her desk. Lights flashed madly on the phone, indicating several people had tried to call. She ignored them and picked up the phone book, sipping her coffee as she searched for the airline numbers.

It would probably cost a damn fortune to fly to Wyoming. But if she wanted to find Matthew fast, then flying was her only real option. Her car barely made it across town these days—driving to Wyoming was out of the question. She just had to hope the agency's credit card had enough left on it to cover the cost of the trip, because she certainly didn't have all that much left in the bank.

Suddenly, the back of her neck tingled a warning, and she froze. Though she hadn't heard the door open, someone had come into the office...

"Hello Nikki,” Michael said softly behind her.