It seemed odd that Simon should be so easy with the man while she was so uneasy with him. She and her son were usually in tandem.

Then Brad glanced over and his eyes, nearly the exact color of his suit, met hers.

Oh, yeah, she thought, there was the reason. This was the only person of her and Simon's acquaintance who could have bats doing cartwheels in her stomach with just one look.

He was too handsome, he was too rich, he was too everything . Way, way out of your league, Zoe, and we've already been there once.

Bradley Charles Vane IV made James Marshall look like a yokel, in every possible way. The Vane fortune, built with lumber, spreading its commerce across the country with its top-rated HomeMakers chain of stores, made Brad a powerful and privileged man.

His looks—the dark gold hair, the sooty eyes and sorcerer's mouth—made him, in her opinion, a dangerous one. He had the toned, rangy build made for those designer suits. Long legs that she imagined could eat up ground quickly on his way out the door.

Plus, she found him unpredictable. He could be arrogant and cool one minute, hot and bossy the next, then surprisingly sweet.

She didn't trust a man she couldn't predict.

Yet she trusted him with Simon, so that was another puzzle. He would never hurt her boy. She was down to the gut certain of that. Nor could she deny that he was good with him, good to him.

Still, when Brad rose to walk toward her, every muscle in her body went tight.

"Doing okay?"

"I'm fine."

"So, you told Simon what was going on." "He has a right to know. I—"

"You might want to stop the leap down my throat so I can tell you I agree with you. He not only has the right, but his mind's bright and agile enough to deal with it."

"Oh." She stared down into her glass. "Sorry. I'm a little nervous."

"Maybe it'll help to remember you're not in this alone."

As he spoke there was a commotion in the hall. An instant later, Moe, Flynn's big black disaster of a dog, bounded into the room. He gave a delighted bark, then charged toward the tray of canapйs on a low table.

Flynn and Malory rushed in in his wake, followed by a laughing Rowena. There were shouts, more barks, and one unfortunate crash.

"In fact," Brad added as he watched the ensuing chaos, "you'll be lucky to find five minutes to be alone with this crew."

Chapter Two

It turned out that Zoe was the one who had to pretend to eat. Not because of the food, but because she simply couldn't relax. It was difficult to swallow when your stomach was tied up in one hard and messy knot.

She'd eaten in this dining room before, with its soaring ceilings and roaring fire. She knew how lovely everything looked under the lights of the chandeliers and the glow of candles.

But this time she knew without a doubt the way the evening would end. It wouldn't be a matter of a lottery. It wouldn't be the luck of the draw, with her and Malory and Dana reaching into the carved box to see which one of them pulled out the disk with the emblem of the key inscribed on it.

Both Malory and Dana had taken their turns, and had succeeded, against what Zoe had come to realize were astronomical odds. They had found their keys. They'd triumphed, and two locks had been opened.

She'd helped them. She knew she'd contributed ideas, support, even comfort. But when push came to shove, she understood that the burden had been on each of them, in turn. In the end, both Malory and Dana had had to reach deep inside themselves every bit as much as they'd had to reach for the tangible key.

Now it was her burden, her risk. Her chance.

She had to be brave enough, smart enough, strong enough, or everything they'd done before her would be for nothing.

It was difficult to swallow even wonderfully prepared roast pork when that was stuck in her throat.

Conversation flowed around the table, as if it was just a normal dinner party with sociable friends. Malory and Flynn sat directly across from her. Malory had scooped her hair up and back so that the burnt-gold curls tumbled behind and left her girl-next-door face unframed. Her big blue eyes were full of excitement and laughter as she spoke about the work they were doing on Indulgence.

Every now and again Flynn would touch her—the back of her hand, her arm—in a casual gladyou're-here, glad-you're-mine kind of way that warmed Zoe's heart.

To keep her mind occupied with easier things, she decided she would have to talk him into letting her have a go at his hair. It was a great, rich brown with hints of chestnut, very full and thick. But with a few snips here and there, she could improve the cut and still leave him with that easy, tousled look that suited the lean lines of his face, the shape of those dark green eyes.

Letting her mind wander, she mentally clipped and styled her way around the table.

She jolted when Brad nudged her foot under the table. "What?"

"You're needed on this planet."

"I was just thinking, that's all."

"And not eating," he pointed out.

Annoyed, she stabbed a bite of pork. "Yes, I am."

Her voice was tight, her body stiff. He couldn't blame her. But he thought he knew one sure way of loosening her up again. "Simon seems to be having the time of his life."

She glanced over. Rowena had placed Simon beside her, and even now they were holding what appeared to be an intense, almost intimate conversation while Simon plowed through the food on his plate

There'd be no need for that stop at McDonald's, Zoe thought with a smile.

"He makes friends easily. Even with magic people."

"Magic people?" Brad repeated.

"That's how he thinks of them. He's taken all this in, and thinks it's cool."

"It is cool. Nothing much cooler for a kid than the battle between good and evil. A little more problematic for you."

She stabbed another slice of pork, moved it from one side of her plate to the other. "Malory and Dana did it. So can I."

"That's my take." He continued to eat as she frowned at him. "So, have you ordered the replacement windows for Indulgence yet?"

"Yesterday."

He nodded as if that were news to him. He didn't think she would care for the fact that he'd given instructions at HomeMakers that he was to be notified whenever she came in or placed an order. "Some of the trim's going to have to be replaced. I can swing by and help you with that."

"You don't have to bother. I can do it."

"I like to work with wood when I have a chance." He smiled easily, in a look that was casual, friend to friend. "It's in the blood. How about the lighting? Did you decide?"

He'd succeeded in distracting her, he noted. She might not have been thrilled to have been hooked into a conversation with him, but she wasn't thinking about the key right now. And she was eating.

He was crazy about her. Or maybe just plain crazy. It wasn't as if the lady gave him any encouragement. She'd been prickly and cold since the first time he'd met her, nearly two months ago. Except for the single time he'd managed to catch her off guard and kiss her.

Nothing cold or prickly about that interlude, Brad remembered, and hoped she'd been just as surprised and unnerved by the experience as he had been.

Even now, if he let himself, he could build a very entertaining fantasy about doing little more than pressing his lips to the base of that lovely, long neck.

Then there was the kid. Simon had been the big bonus prize in this particular box of Cracker Jacks. Fun, bright, interesting, the boy was a complete pleasure. Even if he hadn't been attracted to the mother, Brad would have spent time with the son.

The problem was, Simon was a lot more cooperative about spending time with him than Zoe was. So far. But Bradley Charles Vane IV had never given up on anything he wanted without a fight.

As he saw it, there were a number of battles about to be waged, and he intended to take an active part in all of them. He was here for her, and she'd just have to get used to it. He was here to help her. And he was here to have her.

Her brows drew together, and whatever she'd been saying about wiring and lighting systems dribbled to a halt. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

She leaned toward him just a tad—away, Brad noted, from her son's sharp ears. "Like you're about to take a bite out of me instead of what's left of your scalloped potatoes."

He leaned toward her, close enough to see her flinch. "I am going to take a bite out of you, Zoe. Just not right here and now."

"I've got enough to think about without worrying about you."

"You'll have to make room." He laid a hand over hers before she could draw away. "And think about this. Flynn was part of Malory's quest.Jordan was part of Dana's. Do the math, Zoe. We're the only ones left."

"I'm really good at math." She tugged her hand free because the contact made her twitchy. "And the way I count it, I'm the one who's left."

"I guess we'll see who's better at adding and subtracting very soon."

He left it at that and finished his wine.

BACK in the parlor, where they found coffee and wedges of apple pie thick enough to make even Simon's eyes bug out, Malory rubbed a comforting hand up and down Zoe's back. "Are you ready for this?"

"I've got to be, don't I?"

"You've got us all with you. We're a good team."

"The best. It's just that I thought I'd be prepared. I've had the most time to get prepared. I didn't think I'd be this scared."

"It was easiest for me."

"How can you say that?" Baffled, Zoe shook her head. "You went into this knowing almost nothing."

"Exactly. And you've got everything we've learned and experienced in the last two months running around in your head." Her smile sympathetic, Malory gave Zoe's hand a squeeze. "Plenty of it's scary. And there's more. When we started this we weren't as involved. With each other, with Rowena and Pitte, with the daughters. Everything matters more now than it did two months ago."

Zoe let out a shaky breath. "You're not making me feel any better." "I don't mean to. You've got a big load to carry, Zoe, and sometimes you're going to have to carry it yourself, no matter how much we want to take some of it off your hands."

Malory looked up, pleased to see Dana coming toward them.

"What's up?" Dana asked.

"A quick pep talk before we get started." Malory took Zoe's hand again. "Kane will try to hurt you. He'll try to trick you. In fact—and I've thought a lot about this— because this is the last round, win or lose all, he's going to be only more determined to stop you."

Dana took Zoe's other hand. "Feeling peppy yet?"

"I've thought a lot about it, too. I'm afraid of him." Zoe squared her shoulders. "I think you're telling me I should be afraid. That if I'm really going to be prepared, I should be afraid."

"That's exactly it."

"Then I guess I'm as ready as I'm going to get. I need to talk to Rowena before she takes us into the portrait room. I've got one stipulation before we move to the next stage."

She looked over, hissed under her breath as she saw Rowena already in deep discussion with Brad. "Why is he everywhere I want to be?"

"Good question." Dana gave her a quick pat on the back.

Malory waited until Zoe started across the room. "Dana? I'm scared, too."

"Well, that makes three of us."

Zoe stopped in front of Rowena, cleared her throat. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Rowena, I need to speak to you for a minute, before we get started on the next… thing."

"Of course. I imagine it concerns what Brad and I were just discussing."

"I don't think so. It's about Simon."

"Yes." In invitation, Rowena patted the cushion beside her. "Exactly. Bradley's been very insistent that I do something tangible, something specific, about Simon."

"Kane's not going to touch the boy." There was steel, cold and immovable, in Brad's tone. "He's not going to use the boy. Simon is to be taken out of the mix. That's not negotiable."

"And you are setting terms now for Zoe, and her son?" Rowena asked. "No." Zoe spoke quickly. "I can speak for myself, and for Simon. But thank you." She looked at Brad. "Thank you for thinking about Simon."

"I'm not just thinking about him, I'm making this crystal clear. You and Pitte want the third key," he said to Rowena. "You want Zoe to succeed. Kane wants her to fail. There were rules, you said, about causing harm to mortals, shedding their blood, taking their lives. He broke those rules last time, and would have killed Dana and Jordan if he could have. There's no reason to think he'll go back to fighting fair this time. In fact, there's every reason to believe he'll fight even dirtier."