Deadlock

'I don't appreciate a good many of the things you do. Nor do I un¬derstand them. But I believe there's a balance in the universe, and since God created the universe, he must have approved of that balance.'

'Your Church would not agree with that philosophy. They would say sin is sin, Irana.'

'And the reason I left the order is that I was too willful to accept everything the Church accepts. So that also makes me a sinner, Gar¬rett.' She changed the subject. 'What do you want me to do about the nightmares? I could give her a sedative to make her sleep deeper. I don't want to do that.'

'Neither do I.' He thought about it. 'Don't do anything. Let's see if they go away naturally.'

'Maybe if she'd talk about it.'

'No confessional. That would blow your credibility.'

'There's a sound reason for the confessional. It's a healing tool.' She interrupted him as he started to speak. 'But don't worry, I know that I have no right to violate her privacy. How long do you want me to keep her?'

'As long as you can. She's not going to permit it for more than a week or two.'

'And then once more into the fray. Poor woman.'

'I'll keep her safe.'

'I know you will. You're a good man, Garrett.' 'Only in your eyes.'

'True. But I have to trust my own judgment and believe it's not willfulness and vanity. Otherwise, I'd surely be lost. I've given up too much for that belief.' She added brusquely, 'I'll let you know if there's any change.' She hung up.

She has nightmares.

Irana had gone through a nightmare time herself, Garrett thought as he hung up the phone. Not as violent as Emily's weeks of torment, but torment just the same.

'How is Emily?' Dardon asked from the chair behind Garrett. 'I take it that she's settled in nicely, since she didn't ask you to pick her up yesterday.'

'Settled isn't quite the word. Irana says Emily is literally working her way through the trauma after she found out that Irana was no threat. Once she's recovered, we'll have a whole new situation to face.'

'At least we have a short respite.'

'Which isn't going to do us any good unless we have something to tell Emily when she's ready to hear it. No word on Staunton?' 'Not yet. I'm checking with my contact at Interpol now.' 'Zelov's hammer?'

'Do you know how many Zelovs there are in Russia alone? I've gone through most of them and cross- referenced them with any car¬pentry or farm-equipment companies. Nothing.'

'It's more likely that Zelov is a smuggler or criminal of some sort if there's an artifact hidden in the handle of the hammer. See what you can find in FSB files.'

'Easier said than done. I don't have any contacts since the KGB became the FSB. It could get expensive. Any limits?'

'No.'

'I didn't think so.' Dardon was silent a moment. 'Aren't you get¬ting too involved? You could still turn her over to Ferguson.'

'That's not an option. Find the connection with Zelov.'

'Okay.' Dardon got up and headed toward the door. 'Right away. Let's get this show on the road. I'm getting restless. I've never understood why you like to come here. This island is a little too sleepy for me.'

Yes, Garrett could understand why Mykala was too boring for Dar¬don. But for some reason Garrett didn't feel the same restlessness when he was here. He felt at home, as if he belonged. Strange, when he didn't feel at home anywhere else. Was it because of Irana and her hos¬pital? He'd had little to do with it other than financing. And Irana was usually too busy to spend more than an evening or two with him dur¬ing his visits here.

He crossed to the window and looked down at the hospital on the beach. It appeared chalk white in the moonlight, and he could catch a glimpse of the cottage to the side of the building. The wind was curl¬ing the surf as it washed up on the sand.

Peace. Is that what Irana felt as she looked out at the sea? Proba¬bly. She had earned that serenity. He hoped that same peace was what Emily was feeling now.

God knows, it couldn't last long.

EMILY SCREAMED!

She sat bolt upright in bed, her heart pounding.

Staunton. Blood. Agony.

'It's all right. It's only a dream.'

Emily's gaze flew to the chair in the corner of the room.

Irana leaned forward out of the shadows and turned on the lamp. 'Don't be afraid. I didn't intend to intrude. I just didn't want you to be alone if you woke.'

'How long have you been here?'

'An hour or so.' Irana got to her feet. 'Would you like a glass of water?'

Emily realized her throat was dry. 'I can get it.'

'Why? I need to stretch my legs anyway.' Irana went to the carafe on the nightstand and poured water into the glass. 'I'm not used to being still. If I'm not asleep, I have to move.'

Emily glanced at the clock-2:40 in the morning. 'You should be asleep.' She took the glass Irana handed her. 'I don't need you.'

Irana shrugged. 'Maybe I was the one in need. I couldn't sleep be¬cause I was worried about you. I've found that if I don't do something when I'm fretting about someone, I regret it. So I camped out with you.' She sat back down in the chair. 'Drink your water. I know you want me to leave. I'll do it when I'm sure you're wide-awake. It's too easy to fall back into a nightmare.'

Emily took a sip of water. 'I'm awake now.' But she found she didn't want Irana to leave yet. The horror of Staunton and Joel was still hovering too close. 'You're being very kind, but I'm sure you have other patients who need you. I didn't mean to impose when Garrett brought me here.'

'You haven't imposed. You work, you eat, you sleep.' She paused. 'And sometimes Satan sends you a nightmare to torment you.'

'Satan?' Yes, Staunton was as close to the concept of Satan as she'd ever known. 'I guess you could say that. There are all kinds of Satans in this world. I suppose it's natural for you to blame it on Lu¬cifer. Garrett said you were once a nun.'

'Yes.'

'And that you were having a crisis of faith when he first met you.'

'Not of faith. I never had doubt in God or my desire to serve him.' She grimaced. 'It was how I was to serve him that was the trouble. I was always rebellious, always questioning, always too willing to be¬lieve that my conscience alone should dictate my actions. The Church is a strong and wonderful institution. I tried for eleven years to serve God in the way that the Church said that I should.' She shook her head. 'I failed.'

'Garrett said that he was partly to blame.'

'Did he? He's wrong, and I've told him so a hundred times.' She smiled. 'But if guilt makes him keep my hospital running and helps to heal my patients, that's not such a bad thing. Someday the guilt will fade away, and there will only be the goodness and generosity of the deed left behind.'

'Why does he think he's to blame?'

'Ask him. He told me no confessionals. Even though I'm the one baring my soul.' She got to her feet. 'And now I'll let you try to go back to sleep. Though I don't promise I won't drop in on you again.'

'It's really not necessary. But I do thank you for the thought.'

'It's necessary,' Irana said. 'For my own peace of mind. I'd like to say it's God's will, but I don't have that kind of arrogance. I suspect it's because the Sisters were right and I'm vain and selfish and I believe far too much in my own instincts.' She paused as she opened the door. 'If you press the button on the nightstand, it will ring in my room. I'll come if you need me.'

Emily shook her head.

Irana smiled. 'Have it your own way. But you'll have to put up with me serving your meals from now on. And I'm cutting you down to six hours of work at the hospital. That therapy is over.'

'No!'