The first thing that struck Claudia about him—well, maybe the second—was his demeanor. Perhaps because he was barely conscious, but he seemed as docile as a child. He shrugged out of his drenched clothing without comment or protest, then climbed into bed and allowed her to re-tape his wrists and ankles. Curling himself into a ball, he drifted off.

The electricity couldn’t have been off that long, but it was already cold inside the cabin. Grabbing extra blankets from the closet, Claudia piled them on the bed, then stood for a moment gazing down at him.

Angling the flashlight beam over his face, she told herself she was checking for injuries, but truth be told, she wanted to get a better look at him. Carefully, she took stock: Dark hair, high cheekbones, a firm jaw and chin. Full lips.

Very full lips.

He had what she and her high-school girlfriends used to call a kissable mouth. Her first crush had had a kissable mouth.

So did this guy. This naked stranger in her bed.

Naked. Stranger. In her bed.

If she were the swooning type, she might feel a little lightheaded at her current situation, but Claudia was no shrinking violet. She had a healthy respect for the human body and her own sexuality, but this little scenario pushed even her boundaries.

She reminded herself she was almost like a doctor here, and he, a patient in her care. She needed to make sure he wasn’t seriously injured.

Or packing a concealed weapon somewhere.

Speaking of which …

She turned and scooped up his dripping clothes and quickly searched through all the pockets. No ID, no money, no car keys. Nothing. So he wasn’t just an unlucky motorist then.

Unless, of course, he’d lost both his wallet and keys. Possible but not very likely.

“So who are you?” she murmured as she turned back to the bed.

“Cold …”

As she drew the down comforter up to his chin and tucked the spare blankets around him, her knuckles brushed against his cheek.

He stirred in his sleep. “Find her.”

“Find who?”

“Danger.”

Claudia swallowed. “Who’s in danger?” Silence.

She put her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. “Hey! Who were you looking for out there? Who’s in danger?” When he still didn’t answer, she said in frustration, “Who the hell are you? And what am I supposed to do with you?”

“… kill me …” he whispered.

“What?”

He sighed in his sleep and was silent.

Chapter Four

Claudia left the bedroom door open so that she could hear him if he roused. Then she lit some candles, started a fire and after changing out of her wet clothes into some sweats, headed into the kitchen to put on the teakettle.

Ah, the luxury of a gas stove, she thought. At least the power outage wouldn’t deprive her of a hot drink. Nothing like a nice cup of chamomile tea to warm chilled bones and relax taut nerves while waiting for the electricity to come back on.

The chamomile tea addiction was a by-product of her migration to the Black Hills. Back in Chicago, Claudia had preferred black coffee—gallons of it—to keep her alert during her long, tedious hours in the lab. Now she just needed to stay calm.

Her job as Dr. Lasher’s research assistant had been to painstakingly analyze the mountains of number graphs spit out daily by strategically placed REGs—Random Event Generators. It had been Dr. Lasher’s contention that each REG, which resembled a jetliner’s black box, held within it the power to change the world by predicting natural and manmade catastrophes before they happened. And his theory had seemingly been validated when just four short hours before the planes hit the World Trade towers on 9/11, unusual spikes had been observed in the number sequences generated by REGs placed all over the world. Anomalies had also occurred hours before the Asian Tsunami had struck.

Of course, it was one thing to predict a catastrophic event using fluctuations in the number sequences, quite another to determine when and where it would occur and how to stop it. To that end, Dr. Lasher had eventually teamed up with a mysterious colleague who had supplied him with a test subject exhibiting signs of extraordinary precognitive abilities. Their goal was to create a “psychic” machine that interfaced a human pre-cog with the REG in order to better pinpoint pending global disasters.

But Dr. Lasher had come to regret that collaboration, once his suspicions panned out about his colleague. Turned out, he was involved with a covert multinational organization with nefarious plans for the project.

After his discovery, Dr. Lasher became tense and withdrawn, and when Claudia pressed him for more details, he’d mumble inane warnings that made little sense. But in combination with some unusual glitches in the REG graphs, his vague foreshadowing troubled her. She began to wonder if the disturbances in the number sequences were, in fact, indirect communications from the pre-cog. Maybe he was trying to warn her, too.

And then Dr. Lasher had been murdered, and that brief glimpse of the killer’s face had told Claudia everything she needed to know. If she stayed in Chicago, she would be next. The police couldn’t protect her. No one could.

Leaving the city by cover of darkness, she’d driven north by northwest for no particular reason that she could explain. The strange compulsion had eventually led her to Rapid City where she’d rented her little hideaway in the woods and begun a whole new life.

With her research days behind her, Claudia now made a modest living as a website designer, a career that perfectly suited someone who needed to fly underneath the radar. She called her business North by Northwest Designs, and even her most trusted clients were not privy to her real name.

She’d taken other precautions as well, and up until tonight, she’d almost begun to believe that she was safe there.

Now she wasn’t so sure. The stranger’s presence made her uneasy in a way she hadn’t been for a long, long time.

There was something about him that just didn’t seem right. The way he’d appeared so suddenly in front of her car … that unnatural glow in his eyes …

Her thoughts scattered as the high-pitched whistle of the kettle caused her to jump. Then she let out a shaky laugh as she hurried into the kitchen. Obviously, she needed her chamomile tea fix in the worst way.

Carrying the steaming brew into the living room, she grabbed her laptop and settled in before the fire. Luckily, her battery was fully charged and she also had a spare. Since she had no intention of closing her eyes while a strange man was in her bed, she might as well get a little work done. Come morning, when the road had been cleared, she’d take him into town, drop him at the hospital or the police station and wash her hands of the whole nerve-wracking affair.

As she scrolled through her stored images, searching for the right color combination for a collage header, she heard a sound from the bedroom. The incoherent mumble set Claudia’s blood tingling.

Who was he talking to?

Setting the laptop aside, she rose and grabbed the flashlight and pistol, then eased up to the door. Her gaze tracked the light beam from his form on the bed to every corner of the room. He was alone.

Just to be on the safe side, she crossed to the window and checked the lock.

The delirious rambling started up again, and as Claudia walked slowly toward the bed, she experienced an inexplicable feeling of familiarity. Not déjà vu exactly, but something close to it. Something that deepened the chill in her bones and caused her pulse to race. What on earth was going on here?

She was just a little jittery, she told herself. And rightfully so. Having a stranger in the house was enough to unsettle anyone, but given her particular circumstances, she had every right to be on edge.

And if her unease manifested itself in some peculiar sensations, well … that was probably to be expected. She was only human. A human with a terrifying past and a vivid imagination.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Claudia inched up to the bed. The stranger’s eyes were shut, but she could see the rapid movement beneath the lids as he continued to mutter. She couldn’t make out anything he said, and after a few moments, she adjusted the cover and moved away.

But at the door, she paused to glance back. A little shiver touched her spine, like the sweep of a moth, and she found herself glancing around the chilled room yet again. No one was there. She and the stranger were alone. And yet it was almost as if she could feel another presence, a quietly persistent manifestation that moved and faded with the shadows.

Help him.

“What?” Her gaze shot to the stranger but he hadn’t moved, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t spoken. No one had. And yet for a fleeting moment, the voice inside Claudia’s head was all too real.

Help him.

A crawling sense of dread tightened her throat. “Who are you?” she whispered.

Help him. Please.

Almost against her will, her gaze went back to the bed. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “You’re safe here.”

The mumbling stopped. The voice inside her head faded, and the cabin in the aftermath was so hushed, Claudia could hear the soft expulsion of the stranger’s breath.

Then his voice rose and she started. “Where are you? Where are you?” he asked desperately.

Apprehension prickled the back of her neck. “I’m right here.”

“Why can’t I see you?”

“I’m right here,” she soothed, even though her heart pounded like a racehorse’s hooves against her chest. She swallowed. “Everything’s fine.”

“She’s not there anymore,” he said in despair.

“Who’s not?”

“She’s gone. I can’t find her.” “Find who?”

“… danger …”

“Who’s in danger?”

“The girl inside my head,” he murmured, and for the first time that night, Claudia had a feeling he was speaking directly to her.

The girl inside my head.

God help me, she thought as she backed away from the door. She really had brought a lunatic into her home.

A lunatic with an uncanny ability of making her care.

Chapter Five

It took a long time and a lot of patience, but he finally managed to rip off the tape around his wrists with his teeth, then freed his ankles and sat up in bed. Traces of the dream still swirled inside his head, and he pressed his fingers to his temples to sharpen the focus.

If he could just see those images a little more clearly, he might be able to make sense of them. He might actually be able to save her.

Because the one thing that was deadly apparent to him was the encroaching danger. They were coming. He didn’t know when or how, but they were coming. And they would kill her unless he could find a way to stop them.

The throbbing at his temples grew stronger, and he fell back against the pillow, wanting for a moment to draw the covers up over his head and disappear once again into his dreams.

But the sound of her voice had lulled him from sleep and now he had plans to make, traps to set.

Destiny was speeding toward him faster than a freight train, and he had no way to stop it. The only thing he could do was change it.

But first he had to convince the woman she was in grave danger. And that he wasn’t crazy.

For the latter, he really wished he had his clothes.

Chapter Six

Claudia stood at the window for the longest time. The storm had moved off to the east. The rain had dwindled to a drizzle and the lighting was a mere flicker on the horizon. Now that the thunder had faded, the night was almost unbearably still.

In spite of the roaring fire, she felt a terrible chill. The cold was pervasive. It seeped in under the doors and around the window panes and settled over the room like a shroud.

And with the cold came a dark dread. Was someone out there?

Shuddering, she searched the darkness. Was she being watched at that very moment?

She tried to shake off her growing anxiety, told herself she was letting her imagination and her current predicament get the better of her, but the longer she peered into the darkness, the more convinced she became that someone was staring back at her.

It’s okay. The doors and windows are locked, and I’m armed and ready. No one can get in.

But what if the danger was already inside the house with her?

Now you are letting your imagination run away with you.

Was she really, though? She’d brought a stranger into her home, and that was never a good idea, no matter the circumstances.

Earlier, it had seemed as if she’d had no choice, but now Claudia had to wonder. Maybe she should have left him where she’d found him. All his mumbling about danger … that couldn’t be coming from a good place.

Who dashes out into the middle of an isolated road on a cold, rainy night?

Someone on the run, that was who.

An escaped convict, maybe, or someone fleeing from the scene of a fresh crime.

And she had brought him into her home.

Help him.

Where had that plea come from earlier? Had she manufactured that voice inside her head? Was it a manifestation of her guilt for having come so close to running him down?

Help him? Hadn’t she done just that by setting her own safety aside and letting him into her house? What more could she do for him?

This was so not good. For two whole years, she’d been so careful, painstakingly charting every course, meticulously planning every move and now in the space of a heartbeat, she’d put everything on the line.

Wrapping her arms around her middle, she started to turn away from the window, but in the flash of distant lightning, she saw something at the edge of the woods. A silhouette that looked about the height and size of a large man.

With a sharp sense of shock, Claudia peeled her eyes to the spot, stomach muscles contracting, nerve endings tingling with sick fear. But in another flicker of lightning, she saw that it was only a tree.

She really was letting the night get the better of her, so much so that a shifting log had the effect of a shotgun blast in the silent room. Rattled by her reaction, she walked back over to the fireplace and forced herself to calmly stoke the flames as she gave herself a little pep talk.

All she had to do was stay calm and in control. Morning would come soon. She would drive the stranger into town and she’d never see him again. Her life would settle back into the same routine, and that would be that.

The same routine.

For a moment, loneliness edged away the cold and the fear, and Claudia was given a glimpse of how easy it would be to throw caution to the wind for a fleeting companionship. She was only twenty-four, much too young to be living the sterile existence of a hermit. She craved friends, nightlife, someone special to keep her warm and safe on cold, wet nights.

The solitude of the woods and the isolation of the cabin could sometimes wear her down to the point of risking everything for a single phone call to an old friend. Then she would remember what had been done to Dr. Lasher, and her resolve would be bolstered all over again.

Facing death was one thing, torture quite another.

She warmed her hands over the flames, then picked up her cup. The tea had already cooled, so she drifted back into the kitchen to put the kettle on again. Waiting for the water to boil, she returned to the window, anxious and vigilant.

It wasn’t just her imagination and it wasn’t just the strange situation she found herself in. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it. The unpleasant sensation that nested in the hollow of her chest seemed to grow and tighten with each breath she drew.

So engrossed was she in trying to analyze her trepidation that she didn’t hear the creak of the bed or the soft footfalls that stopped at the open doorway. She never heard a thing, but something alerted her to his presence. A premonition or some imperceptible shift in the air currents. Or that voice in her head maybe. Something …

She turned and there he stood.

As naked as the day he was born.

The candles and fire had burned down so that a soft, flickering glow illuminated the room. He was mostly in shadows, but nothing was left to Claudia’s imagination.

She caught her breath at the sheer symmetry of his form. He was all lean muscle and intriguing angles.

As their gazes met across the murky room, she felt something fiery shoot through her midsection, like a crumbling meteorite streaking its way toward earth. The collision was inevitable, and yet she couldn’t look away. For a moment, she had the crazy urge to rush toward it with arms wide open.

She even took a step toward him and then thankfully good sense prevailed. “Is something wrong?” she asked on a shaky breath.

He said nothing.

She frowned at his unblinking stare. “Are you okay?” A longer silence.

He was starting to make her even more nervous. “I know you can speak,” she said. “I heard you talk in your sleep.”

And then it hit her that he had freed himself. Terror curled in her stomach as she realized just how vulnerable she now was.

Don’t panic. Keep a cool head.

What she needed to do was arm herself as quickly and unobtrusively as she could. The gun was on her desk, just to the left of the front door. She needed to somehow get to it without setting off any alarms.

“The weapon won’t help you,” he said.

Claudia froze. “What?”

“You’re going to die,” he said ominously. “And there will be nothing you can do to stop it.”

Chapter Seven

Claudia lunged for the gun, grasped the grip in both hands and whirled to face him. “Don’t move! I’ll shoot. That I promise you.”

He hadn’t set foot outside the bedroom doorway, and now he gazed at her in bewilderment. “I’m not here to hurt you. I came to save you.”

“Save me?”

Dear God, could that be true? Had someone really sent him here to protect her?

But who? Not even her closest friends knew where she’d run off to or why. She hadn’t even clued in the police.

And why now, after two years of being on her own?

It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this whole crazy situation made any sense, especially her reaction to him. She was afraid and fascinated all at the same time.

And against her better judgment, she felt a welling hope nudge away her suspicion. But only for a moment.

Then her defenses came back up, and she steeled her spine and tightened her grip on the revolver.

Be careful here. Remember your motto: trust no one.

Thankfully, her good sense and natural skepticism came rushing back full force. Maybe he was just trying to catch her off guard. Why he hadn’t attacked her when her back was to him, she had no idea. Obviously, his agenda included more than just murder.

You’re going to die and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.

Her chin shot up. We’ll just see about that.

She wouldn’t go quietly. That was for damn sure.

Still, she prayed it wouldn’t come to that. But if he meant her harm, the gun was her best defense. She just hoped he couldn’t see how badly her hands trembled. She was shaking so hard she didn’t dare put a finger on the trigger. Never put a finger on the trigger unless you’re prepared to shoot. She wasn’t. Not until he made the first move. Then she would blast away. Not without regret, but certainly without hesitation.

She clutched the grip. “Who are you?”

“My name is … Jack Maddox.”

The way he paused before he revealed his name reinforced her suspicions. He’d probably pulled that name out of thin air. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes.”

“Who sent you here?”

“… sent me?” He touched fingertips to his temples and pressed. “I … don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” “I don’t … know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “How did you find me?” “I don’t know.” This was going nowhere fast. Claudia glared at him. “What were you doing out there on the road all alone tonight?” “I don’t know.” “Where did you come from?” “I don’t know.”

“Were you in some sort of accident?” Well, duh. Although, whether she’d actually hit him or not was still up for debate.

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know these things?” she asked in frustration.

His dark gaze held hers for the longest moment. “I’ve been … erased.”

A hair-prickling draft lifted the hair at the back of Claudia’s neck, as if a ghost had just slipped past her. She resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. “Erased? What are you talking about?”

“I don’t … remember.” The fingertips pressed more deeply into his temples. He squeezed his eyes closed and swayed for a moment as if his knees were about to buckle. Then his lids snapped open and he caught her in the most penetrating gaze she’d ever endured. Suddenly, it was Claudia who felt a little weak in the knees.

She tried to suppress a shiver as that dark gaze held hers. “Are you saying you have amnesia?”

“Amnesia? Yes … I have amnesia.” His hands dropped to his sides. Claudia tried not to follow the motion.

The way he said amnesia without any inflection seemed to suggest he was merely repeating a word he didn’t quite comprehend. But how could he not know the meaning of amnesia? He obviously spoke English and he didn’t strike Claudia as illiterate. Something about him just didn’t compute, though, and the conversation went beyond peculiar. It was downright disturbing.

“I need you to believe me,” he said.

And I need you to get your crazy ass out of my house.

Maybe it was only the flicker of candlelight, but somehow he seemed bathed in an ethereal blush. There was just something so truly weird about him. About all of this.

And he was just so … naked.

“What do you need me to believe?” she demanded. “The danger …”

“Oh, I’m very interested in hearing all about this danger you keep talking about. But first could you … do something about that?” She waved the gun over his naked form. Killer or not, the play of shadow and light on all those lean muscles was very distracting. “Throw a blanket around yourself or something.”

He vanished back into the bedroom to comply, and Claudia tried to compose herself before he reappeared a moment later in the doorway.

“That’s better,” she said. “As soon as the power comes back on, we can dry your clothes.” If she didn’t kick him out in the cold first.

“Thank you.”

Such sincerity. Such humble gratitude. He wasn’t making this easy for her. “What did you mean earlier when you said I was going to die and there would be nothing I could do to stop it?”

“It’s true,” he said. “You won’t be able to stop it … but I can.”

“How?”

“By changing your destiny.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you.” Crazy as a loon, Claudia thought.

“I came here to save you.”

“So you keep saying. Just who are you saving me from?”

“Those who wish to kill you.”

“How do you know—” She caught herself and paused with another shiver. “What makes you think someone wants to kill me?”

He gave her a strange, probing look.

Then his gaze shifted to the kitchen a split second before the teakettle began to whistle.

Before the teakettle whistled.

Now it was Claudia who gave him a hard stare as she hurried into the kitchen to turn off the burner.

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