It didn’t take long for Ben to notice and nod in her direction. “Ah, a new player. A bid of three thousand from the lovely Eve Lockhart.”

Three thousand dollars. Somewhere at the far outer reaches of consciousness, Eve understood that she had lost her mind. It didn’t stop her. Hell, it didn’t even slow her down. The bidding continued to climb and she climbed with it. What difference did it make? She’d blown through her rainy-day fund with her first bid. Now her vacation savings, Christmas account, and even Rory’s college fund were all lined up at the chopping block, waiting to be kissed good-bye.

Eve didn’t care. For the moment the only thing she cared about was walking out of there with the pendant. When the bidding reached five thousand, a woman seated a few tables in front of her shook her head and lowered her paddle and Eve felt a surge of glee that she knew was totally irrational.

“And then there were two,” announced Ben. From his podium onstage, he smiled at her and rubbed his palms together. “Do I hear five thousand two hundred and fifty?”

The bid increments had jumped from one hundred dollars to two-fifty, and for the first time she hesitated, wavering, but the auction warrior princess who’d commandeered her body refused to entertain the notion of quitting. Eve took a big swallow and nodded.

“Fifty-five hundred?” he asked, his gaze sliding to the opposite side of the ballroom.

And back to her.

“Fifty-seven fifty?”

Swallow. Nod.

“Six thousand?”

“Sixty-five hundred?”

Five-hundred-dollar increments now. This was crazy. She nodded.

“Seven thousand?”

“Seventy-five hundred?”

Each time the bid was tossed to Eve, she nodded quickly, before she had time to think. If she allowed herself to think, sanity might squeeze back in. She recalled reading somewhere that you should never bid at an auction without firmly fixing in your mind beforehand the maximum amount you were willing to part with. She had no such figure in mind. How could she when one didn’t exist?

She didn’t care how high the bidding went; she wasn’t going to stop.

She wasn’t going to lose.

She wasn’t leaving there without the pendant.

“Nine thousand five hundred?”

“Ten thousand?”

This time when Ben swung his attention to the other side of the room, Eve looked too. Her vision was pretty good, but ordinarily even “pretty good” wouldn’t be good enough for her to identify someone standing at the far end of a crowded ballroom. Tonight it was. Tonight she had no trouble at all recognizing the dark hair and long black coat of the opposition. And it didn’t surprise her in the least to discover that the man bidding against her was the man she’d encountered earlier. It didn’t surprise her, but for some reason she didn’t have time to stop and ponder, it made her even more determined to win.

“Twelve thousand?”

She heard someone, Jenna maybe, ask, “Are you crazy?”

You need to ask? thought Eve.

“Thirteen? Do I have lucky thirteen? I do. I have thirteen thousand on my far left. Do I have fourteen?”

She nodded with gusto, her gaze steady across the sea of tables and elegantly clad guests. She was staring directly at him when he turned his head and stared back, and she felt it for the second time that night, the sudden, unmistakable change in the energy patterns in the room. Only much stronger this time.

Things were getting weirder. And weird was never good. Weird attracted the wrong kind of attention and went against everything she stood for. Weird invited rumors and gossip. It had the power to ruin reputations, and lives . . . hers in particular. In the news business, a good reputation was built upon being honest and levelheaded and—it went without saying—sane.

She still wasn’t giving up on the pendant. What she wanted was for him to give up. She wanted him to just drop his paddle and give the hell up.

In the end it was as easy as that, as easy as riding a bike or falling off a log or making a wish . . . as easy as if so much time hadn’t passed and fate was still something she could trust.

She wanted the hourglass pendant, badly, and without planning to or intending to she gathered her thoughts together until they narrowed into a single unwavering beam focused on that one simple objective. Reality bends to desire. Grand’s words came to her from out of nowhere. And in that instant a pale, iridescent glow materialized, forming a misty triangle that stretched from the pendant to her to the man standing all the way on the other side of the ballroom.

Eve braced for a collective gasp from the crowd, but it never came, and she understood that just like the gust of wind in the lobby, no one else saw the mysterious mist hanging in the air; no one else felt the peculiar shifts in energy. Whatever was happening, she was completely on her own. Just she and . . . she looked across the ballroom in time to see his arm drop abruptly to his side and stay there.

“Sixteen thousand?” called Ben. “Sixteen thousand?”

Her rival didn’t nod; he didn’t even move. He simply glared. At her. If looks could incinerate, she’d be ashes. She turned away so she didn’t have to see it.

“No?” Ben prompted. “All done at fifteen thousand then? Fifteen thousand once . . . twice . . . and sold for fifteen thousand to Eve Lockhart.”

The sound of the gavel coming down might have been a shot from a starter’s pistol. That’s how quickly she was on her feet and yanking her purse from the back of her chair to make her getaway. The possibility that leaving early might be construed as a sign of weakness was no longer her number one concern.

Jenna was shaking her head in amazement. “Eve, my God, I can’t believe you . . .”

Eve couldn’t believe it either, and she wasn’t about to hang around and try to come up with a plausible explanation. “Sorry, Jenna, I really have to run. I’ll call you,” she promised without stopping.

She kept walking, responding with quick nods and smiles to the congratulations and surprised looks coming at her from all sides, until she reached the area set aside for payment and pickup. Several payment lines had already formed, all of them long. Considering how the evening was going so far, she wasn’t thrilled with the prospect of standing around waiting to see what freaky thing might happen next. Her public image would take a serious hit if she were to suddenly breathe fire or be pelted by a rain of toads. And so she did something she never did: she played the journalist card.

Barbara Vines was still rushing around. Eve caught her eye, waved her over and hurriedly fabricated something about a work-related crisis. Barbara immediately led her to the last table and discreetly beckoned to a young woman who appeared to be returning from a break. “Mandy, can you please help get Eve on her way as quickly as possible?” she asked quietly.

“Of course,” replied Mandy, reaching for the American Express card Eve already had out.

“Thanks, Barbara.”

“Happy to help,” she told her. “Breaking news waits for no woman.”

Eve soothed her conscience with the thought that it would be breaking news if puddles of toads suddenly appeared all over the ballroom or every tuxedoed man in the place turned into a penguin.

In a matter of minutes Mandy had completed the paperwork for the sale and retrieved the pendant from the locked holding area.

“I really love this piece,” she said as Eve signed for it. She glanced around and added, “Are you alone this evening? We have extra security guards standing by, and I’d be happy to page one to escort you to your car.”

Eve shook her head. “Thanks, I’ll be fine. I’m parked in the hotel garage, and I can probably be at my car before you can page someone.”

She made it a point to sound more confident than she felt. For all she knew she wouldn’t be fine. Considering the way the night was unfolding, there could very well be trouble lurking out there with her name on it, but not the kind of trouble that could be scared off with a nightstick or a gun, and she wasn’t about to endanger the life of some innocent security guard with a wife and kids waiting at home. This was her problem and somehow she would deal with it.

She slipped the jewelry case into her purse and looked up to find her bidding nemesis watching her. And making no secret of his interest. He was standing alone, away from the crowd, and if he was upset about losing, it didn’t show. In fact, considering how he’d lost, he looked a tad too serene to Eve. She didn’t trust him, and she didn’t like being watched, and she breathed a little easier when she was safely inside the elevator with the doors closed.

As soon as she was alone, her impatience took over and she pulled the black leather jewelry case from her purse. She couldn’t wait to get her first good look at her prize. Or maybe booty was a better word, seeing as how it came from a sunken ship. Her fingers shook a little as she untied the ribbon, opened the case and braced for fifteen thousand dollars’ worth of buyer’s remorse to come crashing down on her.

It didn’t happen. Not so much as a penny’s worth. In fact, she couldn’t recall ever feeling so right about anything in her life as she felt about buying this pendant. She’d never seen a piece of jewelry so beautiful, much less owned one. The gold gleamed both more softly and more brightly than any she’d ever seen. And Ben had been wrong about the miniscule crystals inside the hourglass; they sparkled far more brightly than either diamonds or stars.

Just looking at it made her feel good, happy and warm all over. She touched it, tracing the graceful curve of the hourglass with one fingertip, and the feeling blossomed. Excited, she lifted it from the case and slipped the chain over her head, tucking the hourglass inside the neckline of her dress, where the solid weight of it against her skin was immediately reassuring.

There was a melodic ting as the elevator slowed to a stop and the doors opened directly across from the enclosed walkway to the garage. Eve quickly shoved the empty case back into her purse and glanced in both directions before stepping out, relieved that there was no one in sight. She still couldn’t quite shake the antsy feeling, and halfway across the walkway she looked back over her shoulder to see if anyone was following. No one was.

She blew out a breath of relief and turned left at the first row of parked cars, glimpsing a sliver of her trusty old white Volvo parked in the very last spot. It was like the smile of an old friend, easing some of the tension that had turned her spine to stone.

That’s when she saw him.

He was leaning against her car, smoking a cigarette and watching her approach with the same enigmatic, oh-so-cool demeanor with which he’d just watched her leave. Which raised an interesting question: how could that be? She supposed it might be possible, if he’d bolted the very instant she was out of sight and taken the stairs. And if he then raced the elevator down nine flights without breaking a sweat, and if he made it across the walkway and all the way to her car without becoming the slightest bit winded and without her catching so much as a glimpse of him along the way.

That was a whole lot of ifs. Her left brain was telling her it was flat-out impossible for him to have beaten her there. And that it was also impossible for a human being to be in two places at the same time. So either he had an identical twin brother or . . . she wasn’t ready to connect the rest of those dots just yet. Suffice it to say she didn’t think he had a twin.

If there’d been a way for her to get to the driver’s door without passing him or, better still, acknowledging his existence, she would have. There wasn’t. Option two: take the initiative.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

He came away from the car and straightened to his full height, which was taller than she’d realized, a good head over her own.

“What do you think?” He spoke with a subtle British accent, in a voice that was smooth and deep.

“What I think is that it’s very interesting how I left before you and yet you made it here first. How do you explain that?”

“I don’t.” He flicked the cigarette to the pavement and ground it out with one black leather boot heel.

I don’t. Not I can’t. Not even I won’t. I don’t.

“What are you?” she asked, looking directly into his eyes and not bothering to hide her suspicion.

“My name is Hazard.”

“I didn’t ask who you are. I asked what you are.”

“Hazard,” he repeated. “Gabriel Hazard. And let’s just say I’m a collector.”

“Of what?”

“This and that.”

“Specifically.”

“Rare books. Antique firearms. And unique treasures such as the pendant you purchased this evening. It so happens I’ve been searching for that particular piece for a long time.”

“Why?”

He hesitated before shrugging. “The answer to that is complicated. Very complicated.”

“Then you’re in luck.” She ignored the sardonic lift of his dark brows. “Because complicated is not a problem for me. It so happens I’m clever. Very clever.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. It means you’ll accept the exceedingly generous offer I’m about to make for the pendant without a fuss.”

“No fuss. And no deal. Sorry.”

She took a step toward the car and though Eve didn’t actually see him move, he was suddenly there, blocking her path. She felt the energy around her stir, just as it had when they crossed paths earlier.

“You haven’t heard my offer,” he pointed out.

“I don’t need to hear it. The pendant’s not for sale.”

“That hardly seems sporting. Considering.”

“Considering that I won it fair and square?”

He smiled. It wasn’t a genuine smile, of course, but it was still plenty effective, more than enough to make her heart do a little stutter step.

“Define ‘fair,’ he challenged.

Ouch. Best not to let the conversation veer in that direction.

“Look, I’m very sorry to disappoint you,” she said, trying to sound reasonable but firm, “or seem uncooperative, but this discussion is really a waste of time.”

“That’s a matter of perspective. As I told you, I’ve already invested a great deal of time searching for the pendant.”

“And as I told you, it’s not for sale.”

He hesitated, his expression clouded, as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out. “What if I told you it was a matter of life and death?”

Everything inside her went still. Was that a threat? Belatedly it occurred to her that remaining there alone with him hadn’t been the smartest move she’d ever made. She’d chased down interviews with enough unsavory types to know better than to let herself be manipulated into such a vulnerable position. It was more evidence—as if she needed any—that she’d been thrown way off her game.

“I suppose I’d ask whose,” she said in her calm and even reporter’s voice.

“Mine.”

It wasn’t the answer she expected, and she immediately suspected it was a trick. Before she had a chance to find out for sure, someone spoke from the shadows behind them.

“Not so fast there, pal. If you want to be real about this, both your lives are on the hook here.”

They both turned in that direction, Gabriel Hazard as startled as she was.

Eve would have bet the night couldn’t get any stranger. She would have lost. Standing in front of the concrete wall ten yards away, wearing shiny black suits, dark glasses and black felt fedoras, were the Blues Brothers, or at least a damn good facsimile.

Whoever they were, they definitely had not been there when she arrived a few moments ago. Eve was certain of that. Well, as certain as she was about anything that had happened in the past few hours. The relevant point was that they seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, which she knew enough to know meant they had appeared from somewhere else . . . another dimension or world or someplace equally fantastical.

That couldn’t be good.

“So,” said the shorter and rounder of the two, “that being the operational situation, why don’t you just do yourself a favor, doll, and toss that pendant my way?”

“What pendant?” she asked with what she hoped was a credible aura of utter cluelessness.

The Blues Brothers chuckled and elbowed each other.

Brother Small adjusted the tilt of his fedora. “What pendant, she says. Everybody’s a joker these days.”

Their laughter stopped abruptly, as if someone had jerked the needle off an old record album.

“I hate jokers,” said Brother Tall. “But just on account of I also don’t go for messing up a dame if I don’t have to, I’m going to give you one more chance to play nice and hand over that pendant. A little something I call the three-second chance. Three . . . two . . .”

He skipped one and both men started toward her. So much for chivalry.

Acting on instinct alone, Eve grabbed the pendant right through her dress and held on to it as tightly as she could. She had no idea what prompted Hazard to grab her and try to shove her behind him and no time to think about it. As soon as he touched her, the same iridescent glow that had materialized in the ballroom appeared again, this time forming a dome over the two of them so that they were cocooned inside a bubble of highly charged mist.

Hazard scowled suddenly and pressed his fingertips to his forehead as if his head ached, but still managed to keep his body angled protectively in front of hers.

“Nice trick,” said Brother Tall, his smile smug as he examined the mist. “Too bad for you I got a nicer one.”

They kept coming, their hands raised in front of them, palms open flat. When they were just inches away, blue lasers shot like blades from the center of their palms.

Terrified, Eve cringed backwards and came up against Hazard’s arm; it curled around her like a steel cable. She fully expected the evil-looking lasers to slice and dice their way through the mist and then do the same to them. Instead, there was an explosion of white sparks and a screeching sound so high-pitched it was painful, and the lasers were deflected with enough force to send both brothers flying backwards in a blue-black blur. They slammed into the concrete wall ten feet away and came to rest on their butts.

For a few seconds they just sat there, stunned. A very few seconds as it turned out. Rolling to their feet, looking all too resilient, they began moving forward once again, but this time there was more caution than swagger in their approach. Brother Tall even seemed to hold back half a step and let Brother Small take the lead as he lifted his right arm and moved it over them slowly, without actually making contact with the mist. Instead of the lethal-looking blue lasers, his outstretched palm glowed with a soft white light. It seemed to Eve that he was checking for something. She had no idea what it might be, but she was in the business of reading people, and whatever bizarre breed these guys were, they were close enough to people for her to read them. The look they exchanged was one of surprise-laced fear.

The laser boys were afraid of . . . what? Hazard? The mist? She couldn’t tell, but something had sure spooked them and that was good enough for her.

Brother Small muttered something under his breath that Eve decided must roughly translate to “Let’s get the hell out of here,” because Brother Tall quickly reached out with one gangly arm and made slicing motions in the form of an X. At once the air in that spot rippled and separated, creating a dark opening that both men tumbled into and disappeared.

Eve saw it happen and she still had to look around, twice, to make sure they were really gone and not just lurking in the shadows, waiting for the mist shield to come down so they could strike again. Only when she was convinced they were nowhere around did she allow herself to sag with relief, thankful for the strong arms and solid chest supporting her. Her relief lasted only seconds, and then she remembered who owned those strong arms and solid chest. She wrenched free of Hazard’s hold, which wasn’t difficult since he seemed more than willing to let her go.

The mist disappeared as well, melting back into the atmosphere and leaving them eyeing each other across several suspicion-laden inches of space.

They spoke at the same time.

“How did you . . . ?”

“How did you . . . ?”

“Me . . . ?”

“Me . . . ?”

Their scintillating conversation was cut short by a security vehicle rounding the corner at the opposite end of the garage with its rotating yellow spotlight on.

Hazard grimaced.

Eve wasn’t sure, but he might have also growled.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said through clenched teeth.

She wanted to fire off a clever comeback, but there wasn’t time in the fraction of a second it took him to vault to the top of the garage wall in a single fluid motion and—as she looked on in disbelief—drop out of sight on the other side . . . leaving her to deal with the security guard.

Fortunately, years of arriving at a news scene and being told she was going live in sixty seconds had prepared her to think fast and run without facts. She told him a group of teens had hit her up for spare change and taken off when they saw his lights. Strange loud noises? No, she hadn’t heard any noises. Nor had she seen anyone leap over the wall behind her.

“Wouldn’t that be dangerous at this level?” she asked him.

“Dead dangerous,” he declared. “And dead is what you’d be if you tried it. I guess my eyes were playing tricks on me, because I could have sworn I saw a fellow . . .” He shook his head.

Then he told Eve that he and his wife watched her all the time and asked her to sign his cap.

After making sure she was safely inside her car, the guard drove off, probably to see to it the phantom gang of kids weren’t hassling anyone else within his domain. Eve wasted no time doing the same. She was anxious to get home, to whatever safety there was within those walls. And to Grand, the only one who could answer the questions rioting inside her head.

But first she made one small detour. She pulled out of the garage and turned right, circling around to check out the spot where Hazard had pulled his disappearing act. She carefully counted to the level where she’d been parked.

Dead dangerous was right. It was a fifty-foot drop from where he’d taken off, straight down, ending in blacktop. Even if a man was lucky enough to survive a jump from that height, he’d be left broken and bleeding. But there wasn’t a body or a drop of blood in sight.

Just a collector my ass, she thought.