The unexpected blizzard had delayed Monica's trip north yet again, and the slender blonde was livid. But finally, she was almost there. She closed her eyes, as the constant craving, which never slept for long, awoke with a vengeance. At the moment, she truly couldn't decide which rated a lower level of hell, being an addict or being a 'recovering' addict.

Long slim fingers tightly gripped the steering wheel. All I want to do is collect my daughter and get the hell out of this frozen wasteland! Amanda is not just going to roll over and give Missy to you, her mind countered. Monica's eyes drifted to the envelope on the seat next to her and a cruel smile twisted otherwise delicate features. Oh yes, she is.

Monica suddenly slammed on the brakes, causing her 1976 Pontiac Catalina to swerve, nearly sending the steel behemoth into the ditch. She angrily leaned on the horn and cursed the snowmobilers parked in the middle of the lonely road. When she pulled around the couple she punched her accelerator... hard... using all 8 cylinders to spray snow in every direction. "Assholes, " she yelled as she glanced into her rearview mirror.

"I can’t believe they did that!" Jody screamed. "We were parked in the middle of the road for a reason! They didn’t even slow down and WE NEED HELP! "

Mark just shook his head, hazel eyes blazing. I’d love to catch up with that dumb bitch... whoever she was. "Come on let’s keep going. We’re half way there anyway."

Jody and Mark had been traveling for over three hours and had only gone about 10 miles. Every few moments the snowmobile would mysteriously lose power and sputter to a stop. Luckily, they had managed to restart it, but they were both worried that their luck wouldn’t hold out. Jody privately speculated that Cory had done something to the engine.

Mark pulled his shiny black helmet down and tightly grabbed hold of Jody’s waist, only to instantly release his grip. The psychologist patted his arm reassuringly. "Don’t worry, Marko. That wasn’t too tight." She felt the big man relax behind her. Is he going to be overprotective for this entire pregnancy? she wondered as the snowmobile sputtered to life again. I don't want to stop playing with him and having fun.

Jody's mind drifted to the frosty November afternoon when Mark asked her to loan him a quarter, and she was too slow about it. The beefy man simply grabbed her by the ankles and held her upside down, shaking her until the change fell out of her pockets and she was laughing so hard she thought she would wet her pants. Jody sighed. I'm gonna miss that.

The couple whizzed down the road, traveling another mile before the engine started to buck and lurch. I have a feeling we're gonna end up walking. The brunette turned her eyes to the sky. The bright morning sun had disappeared and was replaced by a dull, hazy afternoon. Maybe we'll pass another car. Monica's Pontiac was the only other sign of life they'd seen since leaving the cabin. Maybe not.

Amanda awoke abruptly. Panting, she sat up and roughly pushed aside the layers of woolen blankets as a bead of perspiration trailed between her shoulder blades to her buttocks. Confused eyes darted wildly around the room until the furnishings gradually began to look familiar and the last vestiges of a vivid nightmare drained away. The rush of cool air on her overheated skin was welcome and the psychologist let out a long shuddering breath. Shaking hands rifled through red-gold locks. That was some dream! Her entire body ached. Whoa... I think we finally exceeded my comfort zone with these blankets, Gumby. I'm burning up.

Except for the large bandage covering her shoulder and chest, Claire looked as though she was simply sleeping. Even though Amanda could see Claire's chest rise and fall she licked her lips nervously as she checked her friend's pulse, relieved to find the heartbeat steady and strong. Gentle fingers traced Claire's face and a wistful smile touched Amanda's lips. You are so beautiful. But the smile gradually disappeared and Amanda felt tears begin to pool in already glassy green eyes.

Her deepest fears, usually hidden from the light of day, played over and over in her mind, continuously piercing her heart. God, did you look this pale last night? She anxiously looked to the door. Come on! Where are they and why aren't they back yet? The therapist bent down for a quick kiss before she completely climbed out of the makeshift bed.

Claire's skin was still slightly pallid, but her body temperature appeared normal. Making a quick decision, Amanda stripped off the top two woven plaid blankets, leaving two blankets tucked snugly around the taller woman. She warily eyed the gun lying next to the blankets then grabbed it on her way to the kitchen for some water. No, I don't think I'll be seeing you again today, you chickenshit. But just in case...

The old-fashioned windup Cuckoo clock signaled 2:00 p.m. as the little bird cheerfully popped out of the small swinging doors, chirped, spun around in a circle and then retreated. For some reason, she found its hourly display comforting and was glad she'd stopped Claire from smashing it to bits the first night they'd arrived. Amanda smiled remembering the evening.

The blonde woman had rolled over and reached out for Claire, only to find the spot normally occupied by her bedmate cool and very empty. Curious, she moved into the living room and watched in rapt fascination as the grumpy, naked prosecutor actually stalked the clock, looking for all the world like a feral jungle predator. Amanda stood mesmerized as the flickering firelight caressed smooth burnished skin. Oh, to be that light! Hungry green eyes raked over the irresistible combination of sleek, chiseled muscles and lush feminine curves. From a mental health standpoint Amanda found Claire's behavior... well, she really didn't want to think about that then. From an 'everything else' standpoint, the therapist was ridiculously turned-on. She licked her lips and allowed her body to fully enjoy a strong surge of animal attraction for her partner.

Claire paced back and forth, her muscles tensing then relaxing with each step. She held the long metal poker tightly in an angry fist. At precisely one minute before the hour, the lawyer stopped directly in front of clock. She cocked her head to the side causing silky tussled tresses to shift across powerful shoulders. White teeth flashed and with a wicked chuckle she raised the poker. Snapping out of her lust-induced haze, Amanda shut her gaping mouth, wondering if she was actually drooling as she rushed across the room... just in the nick of time.

She laughed a little, thinking of the sheepish expression that had flickered across Claire's face as the dark woman tried to explain why it was absolutely imperative that she 'silence' the 'bird from hell'... permanently.

But a practically purring Amanda easily coaxed Claire back to bed. The younger woman eagerly assured her lover that she would make certain Claire was so tired she'd never notice the clock again. Amanda was nothing if not true to her word, and Cuckoo lived to see another day. Strange... she was now praying Claire would do the same thing.

Amanda's eyes drifted from the clock as her mind focused firmly on the present. She had been sleeping for a little less than 4 hours, but the rest and the intimate time with Claire seemed to recharge the younger woman's flagging spirit, although she was admittedly still on unsteady ground. Jody and Mark had been caring and supportive, but Amanda found herself glad to be in the peaceful cabin, alone with her mate. She vehemently told herself it wasn't because these might be the last few hours they would spend together. That was unthinkable. But she kept thinking it anyway.

Amanda downed a tall glass of water in one long swallow, closing her eyes in pleasure as the cold liquid soothed her parched throat. She sniffed and dried her eyes and cheeks, sparing herself a wry chuckle as she addressed her unconscious partner. "All this crying has probably left me even more dehydrated than you are."

"You're probably right," came the faint reply.

"Claire?" Amanda dropped the cup where she stood and rushed into the living room, falling onto the rug alongside the attorney who still appeared to be asleep.

She cupped Claire's cheeks and studied the older woman's face. "Did you say something?" Please... Please don't let it be that I'm just hearing things! I can't lose you... Again? Amanda had the sickening feeling that she had done this all before but was still unsure of the outcome.

"Claire?" Amanda's voice was pleading. "Please," she choked out, trying not to dissolve into tears for the hundredth time. Amanda's chin dropped to her chest and she closed her eyes just as pale blue ones fluttered open.

Claire turned her head and kissed the soft skin of one of the palms resting on her cheek. Amanda's head shot up and a brilliant, teary-eyed smile instantly lit up her face.

"Hi, Mandy." Claire swallowed hard and a soft groan escaped her lips. "Why is it so hot?"

Noticing the tears streaming down Amanda's cheeks, Claire foggily realized that she wasn't out in the snow anymore. "Or do you just like your woman sweaty?" the brunette teased in a weak but clear voice as she struggled unsuccessfully to untangle herself from her blankets.

Amanda let out a strangled noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. "Thank God, you're awake," she whispered brokenly as a nearly painful rush of relief flooded through her and her throat closed tightly, making further speech almost impossible.

Claire lifted her arm and gently pulled the completely overcome woman in for a hug. When she felt Amanda's hot tears trail down her own cheek she gently pushed the shorter woman away. Why is she crying? I can't stand it when she cries. Worried she had injured her lover's bruised jaw Claire asked, "Are you alright, Mandy?" Amanda shook her head then resumed her former position... practically glued to Claire.

The older woman fought to make sense of what had happened, momentarily distracted by the faint smell of strawberry shampoo. She remembered collecting wood and going after Cory… and at some point she knew she had stopped to rest. But everything else was hazy. It seemed as though she had been lost deep in a dream that refused to release her. She couldn't tell what was real and what wasn’t as yesterday afternoon bled into the night and this morning.

The dreams had been fantastic, disturbing and comforting all at the same time. She'd felt rather than seen the images of licking flames and ice and blood. Epic battles from centuries past raged and children laughed in tranquil domesticity. There were horses, ships, planes, and men and women with jade and azure eyes in all sorts of crazy clothing and of all ages.

In the dreams, there were occasional flashes of betrayal and pain mixed with long moments of friendship and desire. But through it all, there was always... always... an undercurrent of unyielding, grounding love that was... Amanda... but somehow wasn't. It was so damned confusing that Claire begrudgingly gave up trying to make sense of it.

"Am I alright? You're stealing all my lines, Gumby. I should be asking you that." Amanda sniffed and wiped puffy red eyes with the back of her hand. A nearly staggering sensation of relief threatened to overtake her as she tried to gather her scattered emotions.

Claire shook off the fading images and looked at her friend's body, then her own. "We're naked?" she asked softly, clearly puzzled.

Amanda let out a surprised laugh, reining in what promised to turn into hysteria. She slowly shook her head. "It would appear so, yes." Her eyes went serious. "You were so cold." Small fingers gently stroked dark tresses, as much for her own comfort as Claire’s.

Claire nodded and lifted her upper body a few inches off the rug. "I feel much warmer now." The lawyer wriggled her eyebrows but the effect was lost when she let out a painful groan. Shit... sitting up... bad idea. Stupidly, she tried to use her left arm to brace herself and was instantly treated to another excruciating bolt of pain.

"What are you doing? Don't even think about moving! You'll tear the stitches." Amanda gently pressed Claire back against the soft sheepskin rug and nuzzled her neck.

If possible, Claire's face paled even further. "Stitches? Wh... What did you use to stitch me up with, fishing line?"

"Damn," Amanda muttered against Claire's hair. "Why didn't I think of that?"

The psychologist looked up to see Claire staring at her with a mortified expression that would have been comical in any other situation. "Relax, Gumby." Soft green eyes twinkled, albeit sadly. "I used dental floss."

Claire's lips formed a perfect "O" and soft laugh shook her long frame. Ouch! "How very MacGyver of you." A flash of searing pain countered her attempt at humor.

Amanda cringed in sympathy. "Try not to move around too much."

That is such a good idea. "Mandy, what...?"

"I'm not sure what happened. You went out yesterday afternoon to get some wood and never came back. Jody found you early this morning, stabbed, and half-frozen lying in the snow. I assume Cory did this." She motioned toward Claire's shoulder.

The lawyer nodded slowly and opened her mouth to speak but stopped mid-motion to lick dry lips. Amanda mentally scolded herself for not asking sooner and squeezed Claire's hand before moving into the kitchen to get some water. "You need something to drink, I'll be right back."

Claire closed her eyes feeling nearly as drained as she had the day before. Her body was betraying her and part of her was intensely curious, wanting to get back to the confusing but riveting dreams.

In what seemed to Claire like the blink of an eye, a warm palm was cupping her chin and rousing her back to alertness. "Mandy?" she muttered.

"C'mon, you need to drink." Claire let her lover's clear, alto voice roll over her as she tried to decide whether a drink of water was worth the Herculean effort it was taking to stay awake. Then a hand on Claire's chin drifted to her cheek then forehead, where it rested for several seconds before disappearing.

Damn. Worried pale brows drew together. "Honey...?"

This time the voice was more insistent and the lawyer reluctantly opened heavy eyelids. "Mmm?" She was greeted by a concerned smile.

"Here's some water. Please try to drink." With a steady hand Amanda lifted Claire's head and pressed the cup to her lips. The taller woman managed to empty a third of the glass before refusing anymore.

Amanda sat the cup down nearby, hoping she could coax Claire into drinking a little more later. Too bad I don't have any Pepsi. She'll be drinking that stuff on her deathbed. The pang that stung Amanda's chest at the words nearly made her jerk. Shit, that was a stupid thought! "Tell me how you feel."

"Duh! I feel like death warmed-over," Claire said in a soft, flat tone.

Amanda tried not to roll her eyes. "I know, sweetheart. But I mean specifically. You have to tell me what hurts. I need to know if you're injured anyplace other than your shoulder and ribs."

My ribs?

"They looked badly bruised but I don't think they're broken."

Claire sighed. No wonder it hurts to breathe. And do you have to read my mind? That really freaks me out!

"Sorry," Amanda offered a little guiltily. "I know that freaks you out. But sometimes it's like your forehead is made of cellophane. I can't help myself."

Claire looked up from under thick, dark lashes, a grin twitching at her lips despite herself. "S'okay," was the sleepy reply. "I guess I'll just have to get used to the fact that I'm in love with a modern day sorceress."

"Witch, huh?" Amanda laughed and brought her partner's hand to her lips. "I love you too," she added tenderly, allowing a little of her nervous tension to work its way free. Relax... She's awake. She's talking.

"You're gonna be okay, right?" Amanda asked suddenly, cursing her insecurity and fear as the words left her mouth. Why did I say that? Idiot.

"Right," Claire affirmed, aching at the obvious pain in her partner's voice. "Wanna lie back down with me?" She glanced at the soft sheepskin next to her and Amanda eagerly pounced on the empty space.

The blonde snuggled up to her partner's side and laid a flat palm over Claire's heart, soaking in the feeling of its strong, steady rhythm beneath her fingers. "When you're feeling better we're going to have a long talk about promises..." she gently chided, aware that now wasn't the time.

There was a moment of silence. "But..."

Amanda held up her hand. "And splitting hairs."

"I... I didn't..." Claire faltered. Oh, yes I did. I promised not to go to the cabin to find Cory, and then I went and chased him half way around Minnesota during a blizzard. I broke my promise and nearly got my ass (and the rest of me too) killed. Not smart. I'm lucky Jody found me. Dark eyebrows drew together in concentration. Why aren't they here? Amanda shouldn't be alone and I'm in not position to protect her! Claire felt the slow burning anger deep in her guts.

"Mandy..." she licked her lips again. Ah... they must be chapped. "Where are Mark and Jody?"

"They went for help."

For me? Of course. Guilt mixed with frustration. "They shouldn't have left you alone!"

"I'm not alone, you're here."

"You know what I mean! If Cory shows up... I... I can't even..." Claire looked around frantically wondering what she could manage considering her wound.

"Shh..." Amanda quieted, propping herself up on one elbow and resting her forehead against the dark woman's. "We're locked in and Jody left me a gun. He won't hurt either one of us again," she whispered roughly. I won't let him.

Both women were silent for several seconds before Amanda said, "You know, it's not your job to protect me."

Pale eyes widened. "What the hell does that mean?" It means that I've been doing a shitty job until now, stupid. Claire began to stew. Cory was nothing! I could take down someone like him in my sleep. But I didn't. The attorney had no time for 'incompetents', and was not pleased that she now including herself in their ranks.

Amanda easily read her performance-driven partner. "It means that I'm a big girl so you can stop feeling guilty. You didn't do anything wrong by leaving me alone yesterday. And I totally misdiagnosed Cory." I almost got you killed.

Claire thought of a million arguments but found herself too tired to offer any of them. Later, she promised herself. "Ma...Mandy, can we talk later? I'm so sleepy."

Amanda gazed at Claire with an intent, affectionate look that threatened to melt the attorney on the spot. Claire felt a warm rush of love for the beauty at her side and wished her disobedient eyes would obey her command to remain open.

Amanda wrestled against her own fear and what she knew would be best for Claire. Oh, Gumby, I wish you'd stay awake so I could be sure you're all right. But I know your body needs to rest. She bit her bottom lip then offered an indulgent, if slightly shaky, smile. "Sure, Gumby." The therapist pulled away from her partner but was immediately stopped by a firm hand around her wrist and soulful blue eyes.

"Don't..." Don't what? Don't go? Jesus, get a grip she probably just has to go to the bathroom or something. "Umm... I mean..." Claire stammered, clearly embarrassed by what she considered an unreasonable neediness.

"I'll be right here when you wake up," Amanda reassured tenderly, wondering why it was always so hard for Claire to just ask for what she wanted... what they both wanted. The blonde pulled up the soft fleece blanket that had been protecting their skin from the scratchy wool. "Go to sleep," she soothed quietly as she tucked the blanket around them.

Claire's body jerked with a hoarse and obviously painful cough. Amanda wriggled closer and deeply inhaled her partner's comforting scent, willing her pain away. She let out the breath with exaggerated slowness and tried to calm her suddenly pounding heart. She's gonna be okay. She is.

Claire's eyes slid shut before Amanda had even finished speaking. Goodnight, Mandy, she thought.

"Sleep well, love," Amanda murmured. But this time she stayed awake, watching Claire's chest rise and fall and wondering what Missy was doing and when there would be a knock at the door and whether it would be Jody and Mark or Cory Martin.

Monica pulled in front of Jody and Mark's cabin and behind the bright red Pathfinder that was sitting on four flat tires. She let out a little laugh as she turned off the ignition. "Maybe they'll be happy to see me after all." Monica fingered the envelope on the seat next to her then grabbed it and tucked it into her jacket. She didn't bother to take her keys out the ignition as she pushed open the heavy steel door, and began wading through the drifts of fluffy white snow, lamenting her decision to wear sneakers instead of boots.

When she reached the top of the steps she hesitated for only a second then raised her hand to knock.

"Hello, Amanda."

Monica whirled around and looked down the stairs at the dark-eyed young stranger, slightly startled to find anyone out so soon after the blizzard. "I'm not Amanda, buddy." Ignoring the man, she turned back to the door and raised her hand again, but a split second later, she was lying face down on the porch with Cory on top of her, shouting in her ear.

"I CANNOT BE DECEIVED!"

"You crazy fucker!" Monica snarled, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. "I am not Amanda. Now get off!" What did Amanda do to piss off this nut job?

"DO NOT LIE TO ME! I am His Chosen!"

Chosen? Monica turned her head but couldn't see Cory's face. "I said...!" A sweaty hand clamped over Monica's mouth as she was hauled to her feet by her hair. "Owww," she complained loudly through his fingers.

Cory shoved her face against the cold wooden door. "Now you listen to me, bitch," he spat, pushing her face hard enough against the door to draw blood from her lip. "We're going to take a little ride in the piece of shit you pulled up in."

"Fuck you," Monica murmured. "I'm not taking your skinny ass anywhere." She'd swallowed tougher men than this runt, whole. "Dickweed..." Monica continued mumbling obscenities and threats against the splintery wooden surface.

Cory stared wide-eyed at the back of the blonde woman's head. He'd never heard Amanda talk like that before. That's what you get from hanging around that unnatural lawyer. Figures. Of course, He was right. You're not fit to carry my seed, Cory tried to convince himself. But even now, knowing what she'd done and who she was, the wiry man wanted her... badly.

The construction worker tightened his grip on Monica's hair. In a quick movement, he brought her head back about six inches from the door then slammed it forward as hard as he could. The previously noisy woman slid bonelessly onto the icy steps. Cory leaned over and grabbed the back of Monica's jacket, lifting her upper body off of the ground. His heart was pounding furiously and he could feel hot blood coursing through his veins. He'd never felt so alive and fought the nearly overwhelming urge to take her then and there. Why shouldn't I have her? What would it matter? No! She's unworthy of my seed. She's trying to tempt me. Whore.

"This could have been so much easier, Amanda," he said as he dragged the woman back to the Pontiac. I could have made this painless if you'd let me. Now... "I think it's time I introduced you to mom and dad."

Jody and Mark came to a sputtering stop outside a dingy looking Dairy Queen on the outskirts of town. It was clearly closed for the winter. A dark explosion of smoke out the back of the snowmobile nearly gave both riders a heart-attack.

"Check to see if there's a pay phone," Jody instructed as she slid off the big machine and pulled off her helmet. Brown eyes surveyed the empty streets. She looked at the snowmobile with contempt as Mark brushed past her.

It was now 4:00 p.m. and beginning to get dark. The short-haired brunette had lost track of how many times the machine had lost power on the way to town and wondered irrationally if it wouldn't have been faster if they'd just walked.

Mark reappeared, petulantly kicking the snow out of his path. "There's no phone."

"Damn! Well, we can try the next building. I guess things aren't up and running yet." Lord knows, I wouldn't be out if I didn't have to be.

The temperature had been dropping all afternoon. It was well below zero and it wasn't even completely dark yet.

"There!" Mark pointed to a large pickup truck that pulled into what looked like a small grocery store down the block. Its headlights glowed brightly for several seconds before turning black. "Let's go." He jumped back on the snowmobile wondering why Jody was just standing there.

"We're out of gas. We'll have to walk."

Mark growled then nodded and pulled a dark sock hat from his pocket. He offered it to Jody but the psychologist waved him off and pulled up her hood instead.

The big man had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her to stay here and wait for him. But he knew it was too cold for her to stand still. He was still reeling from her heroic, but incredibly reckless, rescue of Claire. Pregnant women should not carry people around! She could have hurt herself or the baby. But, wisely, for once, Mark hadn't said a word. If Claire survived this ordeal at all it would be because of Jody and her actions. What she had risked for his best friend made him love her even more.

He offered Jody his hand. "C'mon. Who knows how long the truck will stay there. Is the nearest hospital here or in Twin Harbors?" Damn, it better be here.

Jody grabbed hold of the massive hand and instinctively looked both ways before crossing the deserted streets. "I dunno. But for... everyone's sake, I pray it's not too far."

"Where the hell am I?" Monica asked as she brought her hand up to her bloody forehead.

The car door slammed and she saw Cory slowly make his way around to her side of the car. She reached over to her door and locked it, drawing an evil glare from her captor. "You'll have to break the windows to get to me, shithead." Lucky this piece of crap is JJ's.

Even in this surreal moment, Monica stopped and wondered how long it had been since she'd spared a second thought about her hapless husband, JJ, who she'd misplaced sometime during a drug-induced stupor months earlier. Cory raised the car keys up to the window and made a show of jingling them in front of her face.

"Shit."

He opened the door and reached in to get Monica, but she grabbed the door handle and viciously slammed the door shut... on his hand. "I am NOT Amanda!" she screamed as she scrambled out of the driver's side door.

Cory howled and clutched his injured hand. He turned his head toward the heavens and screamed his disbelief, "But she's a woman!"

Monica spun around wildly having no idea where she was. Darkness had nearly overtaken the afternoon sky and a few stars were already beginning to twinkle overhead. The car was parked in front of a small wooden house that looked inhabited but completely dark. In a panic, rather than run inside the home, she ran around it.

She rounded the corner at full speed, her sneakers providing almost no traction, and nearly ran straight into the woodpile. She managed to avoid the pile but tripped over a stray log and ended up face first in the cold snow. She opened her eyes and quickly brushed the stinging flakes off her face, her chest already aching from the icy cold air. Dull gray eyes belonging to the elderly Barbara Jensen were staring back at her. Monica scrambled to her feet in horror and disgust. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She wasn't running from a pissed off, violent kid. She had plenty of experience with those... having been one herself. She was running from a homicidal maniac. What did Amanda do to you?!

"You can't run from His will, Amanda," Cory shouted hoarsely.

But I can sure as hell run from you! Monica took off into the woods, surprised she could hear Cory's footsteps behind her over the furious pounding of her own heart. She was bleeding and sweating and strands of hair were sticking to her face. Her deep labored breaths were drowned out by the sound of breaking branches as she ran, stumbled, and at times, crawled through the snow-laden underbrush. She finally understood why the women in the horror movies always fell so many times while being chased. It's the fucking shoes!

He wants to kill me... no, Amanda. "I am NOT her!" she shouted as she barely dodged his outreached hand. Suddenly, she broke through the tree line and was tumbling down a steep ravine. Dead, dry branches ripped her jeans and tore deeply into her flesh. But it all happened too quickly for her to cry out. The shooting pain didn't matter because all that did matter was staying in front of Cory. She tumbled further down until the air was forced out of her lungs when her back slammed against a cold hard surface. She took a deep gasping breath of the frigid air before he was on her, grabbing at her coat.

His hands pulled roughly at her jacket, sending the manila folder and its contents sliding onto the ice-covered river. A gust of wind sent the folder farther away, scattering its papers and pictures along the tree-strewn bank.

"You could have been mine! Why did you choose her?!" he spat as he and Monica wrestled and slid a few steps further onto the ice.

"I am NOT her! Look at me! LOOK! LOOK!"

Cory suddenly stopped and stared at the woman pinned beneath him.

Medium length red-gold hair, matted with blood, lay wet on the moonlit snow. Her face seemed a little... harder than normal and maybe a little thinner. Cory squinted his eyes trying to see through the haunting shadows. Then he leaned forward, bare inches from Monica's lips and roared, "I CANNOT BE DECEIVED!" as he shook her violently.

"Why do you keep saying that?! My name is MONICA, you psycho!"

Monica wrenched one hand free and slashed Cory's face with sharp fingernails, drawing blood. He hissed at the white-hot sensation but quickly recaptured her hand, slamming it back down on the ice and causing a long crack to form beneath them. His own hand throbbed from his encounter with the car door but He was urging him on. Not yet! Not until...

Without hesitation, the slender man laid his full body weight on Monica and savagely took her mouth, thrusting his tongue against hers. Monica immediately relaxed. Yes! her mind hissed. This is a game I know how to play... and win.

Cory felt Monica stop fighting and relax into the brutal kiss. His arousal grew. I knew she wanted me! He was on fire. Only I can give her what she needs. When she began responding to his touch by moaning and pressing against him, his heart began to pound. And when she actually started sucking on his hot tongue he came with a loud shaking groan.

Now! Monica pulled both her hands free. With a stiff-armed thrust she pushed up his upper body. With her other hand, and all the force she could muster, she punched him in his swollen groin. Cory immediately fell backwards and began writhing. Wild, high-pitched cries filled the ravine, and the construction worker curled up into the fetal position, rocking back and forth in pure agony.

Monica stood up and sneered. "You shouldn't have messed with me, wacko fucker. Look what a woman can do," she added snidely. Monica reached up and wiped her blood-soaked bangs off her forehead, her body’s short-term natural reaction to danger keeping the cold at bay. Then, just 'cause she could, she gave him a swift kick in the mid-section. Cory lurched forward and began to vomit.

The blonde woman began leisurely picking up the contents of her manila folder. She looked back at the whimpering, gagging man. He wasn't going anywhere, anytime soon. She cursed as she scoured the riverbank, sure she'd lost some papers in the dark. Monica wandered further out onto the ice, trying not to slip. Her legs felt strangely warm and she looked down to see enormous bloodstains covering her torn pants. Blood? Oh yeah, the branches cut my legs. When she gathered the last of the folder's contents she stopped about ten feet in front of Cory and stared at the pathetic man. He was shakily perched on one knee, in a pool of vomit, and holding a large stick.

A flash of worry flickered across hazel-eyes. Maybe he's not hurt as badly as I thought. I knew I should have kicked him a few more times! She took a step backwards when Cory tried to use the thick stick as a crutch. But the thin man didn't get past his knees before he collapsed back on the edge of the riverbank.

Monica let out a shrill, demented laugh that the wind seemed to carry and amplify. "Poor baby, hurt?"

Black eyes locked on hazel and Monica's heart leapt into her throat. And for a split second, she realized she'd made a terrible mistake. Cory lifted the would-be crutch over his head and with a primal scream thrust it into the ice in front of Monica.

The earsplitting cracking of the ice barely registered before Monica's world fell away and she plunged into the freezing darkness. It felt as though thousand of knives were stabbing every inch of her body as she was swept away by the strong current. In pure reflex, she opened her mouth to cry out and freezing liquid poured in, burning the back of her throat. With a bubbling cough she choked and began take in more and more water. Her fingers and knuckles frantically scraped the ice above her but there was nothing to grab hold of as she traveled downstream in a heart-stopping panic.

A few twists and turns and she couldn't tell up from down. There was nothing to see but endless, maddening darkness. The freezing water made her eyes feel as though they would explode, so she closed them, drifting further, deeper, as the cold and lack of oxygen drained out her remaining energy. Did I just let go of the folder?

Soon she didn't have arms or legs and the stabbing pain receded into the background of her consciousness. Monica was vaguely aware of a loud buzzing sound and the fact that everything seemed to be going in slow motion. She stopped fighting once her mind accepted the fate her body already had. Water flooded her lungs but she didn't struggle against it... there was no need... no point.

Ahh...

Deeper...

There... not so bad really.

Further...

Easy. Let go.

Slower...

No more pain... her mind whispered as millions of tiny, brilliant stars invaded her vision and the universe faded into the incomprehensible nothingness she had so often prayed for.

Stillness...

Amanda buttoned her rust-colored flannel shirt and pair of soft faded jeans, irrationally hoping that by readying herself, she could somehow hasten Jody and Mark’s return. She tiredly gazed into the small bathroom mirror and experimentally shifted her sore jaw. It hurt, but the pain wasn’t unbearable. She winced from the appearance as well the soreness when she examined the motley purple bruise.

It was full dark now and Jody and Mark had been gone since mid-morning. Something’s happened. They should have been back hours ago. She's got a fever. The wound is becoming infected. She needs to get to a hospital! Now!

Amanda released the fists she didn't realize she'd been clenching and began looking for some aspirin. Her head was pounding.

Claire had been sleeping restlessly for the past few hours. Several times, even in this semi-conscious state, the therapist had been able to rouse Claire into drinking a few sips of water. But her partner's temperature was rising quickly and the feeling of helplessness and despair that had lifted briefly when Claire awoke earlier in the afternoon, began to invade Amanda once again.

She cocked her head toward the door, naturally bringing one ear closer to the sound. Footsteps? Couldn't be. Maybe Claire's awake? Amanda's eyebrows scrunched together. I didn't think she'd be up again without prompting. She's so drained... literally. Amanda frowned as she tucked her shirttails into her jeans and ran icy cold water over the terry washcloth she'd been using to wipe Claire's sweating forehead. With her other hand she picked up the small lantern that nicely lit the bathroom and opened the door.

Bracing his hands on his knees, Cory stumbled to his feet causing the dry snow covering his body to be picked up and carried away by the brutal December wind. He shivered and stared dumbly at the hole where Monica had disappeared into the ice. Coal black eyes had long since adjusted to the moonlight and he could easily make out the small chunks of ice churning against the side of the hole from the river's steady current. Another day or two and the hole would completely disappear, keeping the rivers dark secrets... at least until spring.

I did it! And, ooooh how that bitch deserved it! Even the smallest movement sent shock waves of pain radiating out from his groin and extending through every inch of his slender frame.

Cory had obeyed and done His will. His Chosen stood, swaying slightly, waiting for his well-earned accolades. They never came. It's because I'm not finished isn't it? I'm never finished, he thought grimly.

A sense of calmness and purpose washed over him as he limped back to the Jensen homestead.

I must finish this! He has commanded it! I am powerless against His will. Cory stepped over a large log and groaned.

This afternoon the SUV was still parked at the cabin, maybe Jody and her boyfriend are still there too. Cory didn't even spare Claire a second thought. He was certain between himself and the blizzard she was quite dead.

Amanda and that bitch attorney tainted Dr. Penbrook! I'm sure of it. She's probably one of them too. But I'll help her. I won't stand by while she is eternally damned. It may not be too late.

Cory stepped into the warm house. The heat was almost painful against his itching, numb skin. He immediately went to the kitchen table where several weapons sat in stark contrast to the cheerful, red-checked tablecloth.

He selected his .38, knowing it was already loaded. Fucking slut! He flexed his injured hand and cried out in pain. I hate to shoot with my left hand and now I have no choice. I was so wrong about you Amanda. But in the end you couldn't deceive me! I wish you'd died slower. And I wish I could have watched.

Braving the bitter cold once again, Cory gingerly mounted the Jensen's second snowmobile. Having made this trip so many times over the past few days he easily traversed the rugged landscape in the dark. He guides me. He shows me the way. Maybe he'll make me invisible again. Yes, that would excellent! I want to be invisible and silent again!

The young construction worker parked the snowmobile about a quarter mile from the larger cabin so as not to be heard. The Pathfinder was still parked in the driveway, covered by a heavy blanket of snow. Too bad about those tires though, they looked new too. Although I'd have popped for Michelins. Cheap fucking lawyer! She probably found a way not to pay for them anyway.

The cabin was dark and quiet. Cory's gaze drifted upward. No smoke from the chimney, they must be gone. His soul raged. NO! My work is not complete! They can't be gone, his mind whined.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, through the trees, he caught a golden flicker. The other cabin, of course. They're in there. A cruel smile twisted his lips and he scratched his itchy head through the thick facemask.

Lean legs waded through the knee-high snow, avoiding the deeper drifts, which were waist high. His excitement grew with every step.

The Jensens had been easy, if a little messy. They were old anyway. He ruthlessly justified his actions. I did them a favor, right? Killing Amanda was the hard part. The rest will be simple.

Cory conveniently forgot about his broken hand, nose and throbbing groin, not to mention the multitude of aches and pains, courtesy of Claire, that had kept him from catching 'Amanda' before she made it all the way to the river. I'm getting better at this too, he ridiculously told himself.

Oh yes, someone is definitely home. A cheerful glow poured out the low but wide windows, and smoke wafted happily from the chimney above. Time to huff and puff and blow their house down, he snickered.

The door was locked. Do you think a door can keep out His Chosen? NOTHING CAN STOP ME! Cory let out a muffled curse as he peered into a large window that began a little above knee-level and stretched to the top of his head. Curtains almost completely blocked his view of the cabin's interior. But he could see a blazing fire and several flickering lamps that left the room surprisingly well lit. She must be in the kitchen. Humph... women should cook for their men. She should be in the kitchen. For a moment he questioned his mission. What if Amanda didn't taint her? What if Jody's serving him, as a good woman should?

An irritated hand reached up and tore off the ice-crusted facemask. Steam rose from his dark head as he shook it, trying to dispel his doubts. Cory waited, but He was oddly silent on the subject. Is it my decision then? Still no answer. Ahhh. Another test. I won't fail You. Even if she's not tainted, she's still a whore. The young man nodded. She needs to die, so You can cleanse her everlasting immortal soul. I can help her.

Amanda poked her head out of the bathroom. I could have sworn I heard something. From the kitchen, on tipped-toes she looked over the large sofa to see Claire resting peacefully in the exact same position she'd left her in. For a split second her spirit soared. Maybe it's Jody and Mark. Oh shit! Maybe it's... Before she could complete the thought, glass exploded into the room.

"What in the...?!" She instinctively ducked the flying shards as a dark form crashed through the large bay window.

Cory lay half in half out of the house. He roared as he looked down at his bloodied, mangled leg and grunted as he roughly tore his leg from the stained window frame. "Goddamned fucking...!" He looked more closely at the window. "TRIPLE-PANED GLASS?! Environmental, tree-hugging, bitch!" he howled.

The man had planned on smashing through the window like he'd seen in the movies, not getting caught-up like a stupid animal in a trap. NO! NOOOO! his mind cried.

The gun? Green eyes traveled to Claire who was only stirring slightly, despite the horrendous crash. The gun was lying next to her and across the room from Amanda. Jesus Christ! How could I have left the gun over there? I've been carrying it around with me all day!

Cory whirled around and faced Amanda, his .38 pointing straight at her, stopping any thoughts she had of running across the room. His hand was shaking so violently Amanda was afraid he'd discharge the weapon whether he wanted to or not.

Black eyes bulged in horror. "B... Bu... But you're dead!" he yelled, clearly terrified. "I killed you. You went into the ice!"

"Calm down, Cory," Amanda said in her most relaxed, professional voice, ignoring her pounding heart.

"NO! SHUT UP!" You're dead, you're dead... he chanted over and over, his mind awhirl with images of the snow and cracking ice and a last terrified scream he could hear even though she was already under the ice.

"Cory..."

"NO!" He leaned back against the doorframe as His voice entered the fray, cursing him, mocking his continued failures. "SHUT UP!" he begged. "Everyone shut up and leave me alone!" Cory brought his hands over his ears as tears streamed down his face. His eyes darted wildly around the room finally settling on Claire. Amanda followed his gaze.

Oh no. "Cory..." she began, trying to distract him from Claire. "I can help you if you let me." She motioned to his leg, which was bleeding profusely. "Let me help you, you're hurt," she offered carefully, gentling her voice and demeanor further, wishing all the while she had her own gun.

The man exhaled shakily. His breath curled into a cloud of fog around his head as the cold sweat on his face made him shiver uncontrollably. A strong gust of wind blew the light curtains, billowing them in front of Cory. He angrily pushed them aside and took a limping step toward Amanda.

The frigid breeze extinguished the lamps and caused the flames in the fireplace to lengthen and sputter, casting the room in an eerie bluish-gold light.

"Are y... you a ga... ga... ghost?"

What is he talking about? Do I look like a damned ghost? "No, Cory. It's me, Dr. Greer." Relax. Take a deep breath. Don't panic.

Cory shook his head 'no' and raised his hands to his ears. Does He have to yell! Shutupshutupshutup!!!!! I hear you! Awkwardly, he straightened, leaning heavily on one leg, while he recklessly wiped his tears with the barrel of the gun.

Holy shit. Amanda swallowed nervously.

"I can't trust you," he finally said in a soft defeated voice. "You tried to trick me before. You said you understood, but it was all a lie, wasn't it?"

Duh! "No, Cory. That was all a misunderstanding. Why don't you come over here and sit down?" Amanda reached out slowly, never taking her eyes off Cory and his ever-moving gun as she pulled out a nearby chair.

"But..."

"We could talk for a while. I'll bet there's a lot you have to tell me about," she coaxed as if talking to a slow child.

Claire stirred again and Cory closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again they were filled with tears. "She's supposed to be dead too." He cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. "Why won't you just die?"

Uh Oh. Amanda's stomach sank.

Rage flashed across his face, hardening young features. "You liked it when I kissed you. I could feel it! Or were you just trying to trick me again? Weren't you listening to me? I CANNOT BE DECEIVED!"

Cory's last sentence was said in a calm voice laced with so much venom that Amanda involuntarily shuddered. Thankfully, the frosty chill that had overtaken the small cabin would easily explain her actions. She didn't want him to know how badly he was unnerving her. Kissed you? It's just one delusion after another.

Cory's internal dialogue began to spill out in the form of incoherent ramblings or chants or both. Amanda wasn't sure which, and she didn't care. What she did care about was that he seemed to be inching his way toward Claire.

Suddenly, Cory turned to Amanda and said, "Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and Gomorrah, brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven." He slowly raised the gun until it was level with Amanda's chest. Their eyes locked as he cocked the hammer, its clear "click" sounding through the quiet room.

Amanda's mind raced, she knew he was about to pull the trigger. God, he's really going to kill me. She opened her mouth to speak but another voice, deep and angry, echoed from behind Cory.

Claire was on her feet, sans clothing except for a pair of black cotton panties. Her eyes were hard chips of blue ice that seemed to glow. The large white bandage and her unsteady legs did nothing to detract from the sheer power of her presence. Amanda would later recall that her only conscious thought upon the unexpected sight of her lover was pure awe. Claire was simply magnificent. For Amanda, the next events were so horrific and happened so quickly, that they would forever remain a jumbled blur.

"Remember me, dumb ass?" Claire snarled as she raised Jody's gun. It's you who's gonna die, NOT Amanda.

In a surprisingly coordinated move, Cory whirled around on one leg and refocused his aim on Claire.

At the same instant they each pulled their triggers.

"NOOO!!" Amanda wasn't sure if she said it or only thought it as she flew across the room. In front of her, Cory fell like a sack of potatoes. A fine trickle of blood spilled from the small round hole in the bridge of his nose but a large part of the back of his head was splattered on the wall. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Claire's body twisted wildly to one side with the impact of Cory's shot but she remained on her feet for several stunned seconds before dropping to her knees with a jarring thud. Before she could fall completely backwards, Amanda was there, easing her onto the crimson stained rug. Claire felt warm hands on what used to be her 'good' shoulder and faintly heard Amanda agonizingly whisper, "Oh my God."

NO!! NO!! Amanda's mind fiercely denied what she'd just witnessed. Claire had taken a bullet just above her breast on her right side. Hot blood poured between Amanda's fingers even as the psychologist desperately pressed one of the blankets against the wound.

Red and white lights flashed outside the cabin, illuminating the room in a pulsating rhythm, and distant yelling voices gradually grew louder and louder.

Claire weakly grabbed one of Amanda's arms and held it, causing the younger woman to stop her frantic efforts to stem the tide of blood and focus on Claire's face.

"Mandy..." Claire whispered.

"NO!" Amanda cried brokenly. Heedless of the blood, she wrapped her arms around Claire and pulled her lover to own breast, rocking her gently. "You will not die, do you hear me! You will NOT leave me! I won't let you!" She tightened her grip on Claire, feeling the warm blood soaking through her shirt and sliding down her belly, despite the blanket meant to staunch its flow. Ebony hair draped softly over Amanda's arms and blew gently in the icy breeze. Amanda was assaulted with the pungent metallic scent of blood and the faint aroma of Claire's shampoo.

Frothy red bubbles leaked from Claire's lips as she coughed weakly.

"M... Mandy..." she sputtered. "I... I am so... so sorry." Blue eyes struggled to stay opened but failed. I feel so cold and so tired. I'm sorry.

Amanda shook her head frantically as she held onto her lover for dear life. NO! I won't accept this. I won't. I can't! her mind cried. The hand that had been circling her arm loosely fell away and Amanda heard Claire's knuckles rap against the wooden floor, just off the rug.

"Ma'am?" a deep male voice questioned as the sound of a police radio hummed in the background. "You need to let her go, an ambulance is here to help."

Amanda shrugged off the large hand on her shoulder then violently hit away the hand on Claire. "LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE!" she spat, still not comprehending who these people were and why they were there. No one in this life or the next could make her let go of the limp body in her arms.

The police Sergeant looked back to another officer, obviously uncomfortable and unsure of what do next.

"Amanda, let them take her. The ambulance is here to help her." Fuck! We're too late. No one could survive after losing that much blood. A large scarlet pool surrounded the women.

"Jody?" Amanda turned miserable, disbelieving eyes on her best friend. "They're gonna help her?"

"They're going to try." Please let her still be alive.

They're going to help her. Amanda nodded and slowly released her lover to the care of a large man and medium sized woman dressed in white and blue uniforms. She scrambled backward using her heels to push herself up against the wall. She watched as the ambulance crew quickly examined the wound, slid an oxygen mask over Claire's face, and started 2 IVs. The woman turned to Amanda and hastily informed her that Claire was still alive, then she looked at Jody and the older psychologist immediately understood the meaning behind the look of unveiled sympathy.

Jody looked at Amanda and the smaller woman nodded, indicating she was all right... at least physically. Jody offered her hand to Amanda who grasped it and pulled herself to her feet. She wrapped an arm around Jody's waist as they watched the ambulance crew strap Claire into a gurney that was mounted on rails, like a sled. Several more police officers entered the cabin and began milling around Cory's body. With them came in an agitated Mark who turned pale at the sight of his childhood friend.

Jody and Amanda followed the ambulance crew out of the cabin. A neat trail in the snow formed by the numerous policemen and rescue workers made the trip down the hill to the waiting ambulance fast and easy. As they loaded Claire into the large white vehicle, Amanda looked around, in shock, her hair blowing wildly with every gust of wind, wondering if every cop in northern Minnesota had somehow found their way here. The area around the cabins was crawling with police.

Mark caught up to the women, after successfully fending off the police's questions and assuring them Amanda and Claire weren't going anywhere. Occasionally, it did pay to be a prosecutor. The tall man gently wrapped Amanda's coat around her shoulders. She absently patted his hand, acknowledging his kindness. She hadn't really noticed the cold.

When Claire was safety tucked into the ambulance Amanda moved to join her. The female rescue worker stopped Amanda from climbing into the back of the vehicle with a firm hand. "You can't go in there."

Green eyes flashed and Jody feared for the rescue worker's safety.

The woman realized her error immediately and quickly tried to correct herself. "Look... there's no room in the back, we're gonna be working on her on the way to the hospital." She motioned to the large young man that was crouched over Claire working furiously. Dang. "I gotta go help Brian." She pointed to the police car. "Ride with Larry, you'll get to the hospital the same time we will." She paused. "Larry won't lose us, I promise."

Mark and Jody expected Amanda to argue and were stunned when the younger woman simply nodded and thanked the ambulance worker and asked her to hurry. Now Jody was convinced Amanda was in shock.

The ambulance roared to life and began to pull out of the long driveway. Amanda looked around pointedly at the milling policemen. "Which one of you is Larry and why the hell aren't you in your squad car?!" Amanda screamed at the top of her lungs.

A middle-aged, overweight officer ran nervously to her side and directed her to a car parked behind the others. He mumbled, "Shit, don't piss off the little one!" as he loaded Amanda and Jody into the back seat. Mark rode up front with him.

Okay, that was more like Amanda. Jody was more than a little relieved. She found a quiet and demure Amanda especially disconcerting.

The ambulance workers deftly exchanged the saline IV bags for ones containing O negative blood. "Jesus, Brian, did you see these ribs and her other shoulder?" It was a stupid question and the more experienced crewmember knew it was rhetorical and didn't bother to answer. "It looks like she's had a bitch of a few days. Ya think she'll make it?"

The man studied Claire's face for several seconds. Even under the harsh fluorescent lights it was obvious she was beautiful. What a waste. "Well..." he started to speculate when the machine monitoring Claire's heartbeat began to go wild.

Amanda's head was resting against the cold, damp window of the police cruiser as watery emerald eyes watched the shadowy trees pass, one after the other. Suddenly her body jerked as a devastating sense of loss and terror tore through her. Her chest clenched painfully then relaxed. She closed her eyes and a single tear trailed down her cheek and splashed on her bloodied shirt. "Noooo," she whispered to herself.

"Damn!" Brian cursed. "She's not gonna even make it to the hospital if we don't start CPR." He began pumping Claire's chest, while the woman squeezed a bag that was place firmly over Claire's mouth and nose.

Claire was dreaming. She was walking through a dark, quiet hallway whole, and healed, but desperately alone. She could sense Amanda, albeit far away, but was too tired and weak to call to her. She tried again but she had no voice. I can't. I just can't. I am so so sorry, Mandy.

Then the dream faded away.

Comments or questions to Advocate advocate8704@yahoo.com
Concluded in Part 9.