though she was gasping with relief. 'Now what, a Waterford vase?'
She marched into the room and stopped. A windowpane was smashed in, the door next to it ajar. Ivy stepped back.
She stepped into him. 'Wha-?' Before she could turn around, a sack was pulled over her head. Ivy screamed and fought to get free, ripping at the sack with her hands, clawing it like a cat. The more she yanked at the cloth, the tighter it was pulled around her. She felt as if she were suffocating.
She fought to keep herself from panicking, struggling against someone much stronger than she. Think!
Think! she told herself.
Her feet were still free. But she knew that if she kicked and lost her balance, he'd have her. She began to use her weight, swinging her whole body from side to side. She swung hard. He lost his grip, and Ivy spun away.
Then he grabbed her again. He was pushing her now, toward a wall or a corner, she thought. She couldn't see a thing inside the dark bag and had lost track of where she was. Even if she could get free of him, she didn't know which way to run.
The sack was so rough that each time he pulled it the threads burned against her face. She wanted to lift her hands and claw her way through so she could see her attacker's face.
He made no sound. She felt him shift his grip, holding her now with just one arm. Then she felt it, something pressed against her head, something hard and round — like the barrel of a gun.
She began to kick and kick, and shriek.
Then she heard a pounding sound from somewhere else in the house. Someone was pounding and calling, 'Ivy! Ivy!'
She tried to answer.
She was hurtled forward and could not stop herself from falling. She slammed against something as hard as rock and slid down it. Metal things tumbled and clattered around her. Then everything went black.
'Ivy! Ivy!' Tristan called.
'Ivy! Ivy!' Will shouted, pounding on the front door. Then he raced around the outside of the house, looking for some other way in.
He saw Gregory's car parked in the back. He stopped — Tristan stopped — at the broken window and the door that opened into Andrew's office.
'Ivy, what the— Who did this?' Gregory was saying, bending over her, gently pulling off the sack. 'Are you okay? Easy now. You're safe now.'
Fireplace tools were scattered on the floor. Ivy rubbed her head and stared up at Gregory. Then they both turned to look at Will, who was framed by the open door. Tristan had just slipped out of Will, but he saw the fear and mistrust in Ivy's face and the angry flush on Gregory's.
'What are you doing here?' Gregory demanded.
Will was speechless, and even if Tristan had stayed inside him, he couldn't have given an answer chat would have satisfied Gregory or Ivy.
'I don't know,' Will said. 'I just thought- I just knew I had to be here. I felt something was wrong and that I had to come.'
With the angry color draining out of Gregory's face, his skin looked paler than normal. He looked almost as shaken as Ivy.
'Are you all right. Ivy?' Will asked.
She nodded and turned away, resting her head against Gregory's chest, 'Is there anything I can do?' Will asked.
'No.'
'I'd better call the police,' he said.
'You'd better,' Gregory said, his voice cold and unfriendly.
When Will placed the call, he spoke calmly, but Tristan knew that his partner was as shaken and bewildered as he. Tristan knew little more than Will about how he had first sensed that Ivy was in danger.
She needs you. The message had come to Tristan, though whether he'd heard it or simply understood it, he couldn't say. But knowing that something was about to happen, and remembering that Lacey had said he could not rescue her himself, that he had to combine his powers with someone else's, he had rushed right to Will, urging him to go to Ivy, to help her.
It had been a struggle, especially at the beginning. Tristan had to learn to channel his energy, and gradually Will gave himself over to his direction. Tristan wondered if Will realized he had driven up the hill at eighty miles per hour, despite the upgrade and turns. Did Will remember racing around from the front to the back of the house faster than was humanly possible?
But still not fast enough to catch Ivy's attacker, thought Tristan. Until he knew who the attacker was, there was no way of guessing when he'd strike next, or how Will and he could protect Ivy.
Will and he. He and Will. There was no denying now that Will cared for Ivy — and that Tristan needed him to.
Tristan watched as Gregory picked up Ivy and carried her to the sofa. Ella Crouched under Andrew's desk, her eyes glowing like embers.
'Who was it, Ella?' Tristan asked. 'You're the only one who saw it. Who did this?'
Will left the room and came back with an icepack.
Gregory held it gently against Ivy's head. 'I'm here. Everything's going to be all right,' he said over and over, continually rubbing her back and soothing her.
Before long they heard the whine of a siren. A police car swung into the driveway, followed unexpectedly by another car. Andrew's.
'What happened?' Andrew cried» rushing into the house with the officers. 'Ivy, are you all right?'
He looked at the broken window, then at Will, and finally turned his attention to Gregory. 'Why are you here?' he asked. 'You're supposed to be with Maggie and Philip.'
'Why are you?' Gregory asked back. Andrew glanced quickly at the police, then gestured toward his desk. 'I left some papers behind, some reports I wanted to work on at the lake.'
'I came because Ivy called me,' Gregory said. 'I'd told her earlier today that she should call me if she needed anything.' He gazed down at her. Ivy met his eyes with a puzzled expression.
'It was you who called me, wasn't it?' he asked. 'No.'
Gregory looked surprised, then squeezed her hands hard and dropped them. 'Whew,' he said softly.
'You owe somebody big time.'
He turned to the others. 'When we got to the lake, I had to run out to the store. Maggie had remembered everything for our trip, except toilet paper.
'When I returned, the man at the lodge said someone had called three times, asking for me, but didn't leave a message. I figured it was Ivy. It's been rough for her lately — you know that,' he said, appealing to his father. 'I didn't waste any time. I came right home.'
'Lucky girl,' remarked one of the police officers.
The police began to ask questions then. Tristan moved slowly around the room, studying faces and reading what the police were scribbling down.
Was it jealousy that he felt every time he saw Gregory touch Ivy? Or was it some kind of intuition? he wondered. Was Ivy really safe in Gregory's arms?
Had Gregory told Eric that Ivy would be alone all weekend? If Eric was responsible for this, would Gregory cover for him?
And why had Gregory questioned his father? Did he think Andrew's excuse for returning to the house was a little too convenient?
The police stayed a long time that afternoon and asked lots of questions, but it seemed to Tristan they were all the wrong ones.
When Ivy answered the door on Tuesday morning, she knew that Beth had read the local paper. Her friend stepped inside with a quick, shy 'How're you doing?' She hugged Ivy, nearly squeezing the breath out of her, then
