Midnight Jewels

was a swishing sound as a limb grazed the windshield. Mercy stared straight ahead. She could see a little, but not nearly enough to drive into this maze. Croft was driving very slowly, but he seemed very sure of what he was doing. She remembered her earliest impression of him: A creature at home in the darkness.
    Croft brought the car to a halt and switched off the engine. "That's as good as it's going to get. Can you open the door on that side?"
    Mercy unlatched the door and opened it carefully. "Yes. Just barely. Boy, is the rental agency going to have a fit."
    "Why? I haven't scratched the paint." He was climbing out of the car as he spoke, closing the door behind him.
    "You must have scratched the paint. You just drove through all those trees. You can't have avoided scratching the paint." She didn't know why she was pursuing such a stupid, meaningless accusation. It had to be a reaction to stress.
    "We'll worry about it later," he said placatingly.
    Mercy knew by the tone of his voice that he was humoring her. He was very sure he hadn't scratched the car. She peered through the shadows at where he stood near a tree. He stood very still, listening, apparently. It was hard to see him. If she hadn't known he was there she probably wouldn't have seen him at all. The realization gave her a new case of shivers. Then she remembered Croft's uncertain condition.
    "How do you feel?"
    "Like hell."
    Not reassuring. Mercy fought a sudden urge to scream or cry. "Are we going to hide here in the trees with the car?"
    "No. The car's too big. I've done the best I can to conceal it, but there's a good chance whoever's following us will find it. Come on."
    "Where are we going?" Mercy eased her way around the Toyota until she was standing near him. When she looked up into his face all she could see was the colorless gleam of his eyes. The eyes of a ghost.
    He took her arm and started leading her through the grove of trees. "Into town."
    Mercy started to ask for more details, but the questions went out of her head when she caught a brief flash of light in the darkness. "Whoever it is, he's almost here." She couldn't tell if Croft was still trembling because her own nerves were performing a high wire act.
    Croft glanced back along the road that wound down the mountains from Gladstone's estate. Headlights appeared for a second and then disappeared. Mercy was right. They didn't have much time. He felt her shivering under his hand and wondered critically which of them was in worse shape. He moved out into the open, yanking Mercy along with him as he started toward the nearest of the old shacks.
    This was all his fault, he told himself fiercely as he loped toward the leaning building. Mercy was in danger because of his stupidity. He felt her stumble over a pine cone she hadn't seen lying in her path and quickly jerked her back to her feet. He had to remember she couldn't see as well in the dark as he did. Few people could.
    His night vision was just one of the odd assortment of physical talents with which he had been born and had spent years honing. Useless talents, for the most part. All they were good for was getting him into situations where he was likely to get himself or someone else killed. If he had been born nearsighted, with a tendency toward a beer belly and a dislike of too much internal speculation and analysis, he would have had a completely different life. He might have found happiness working on an assembly line or in an accounting office. He was good with details.
    But, no, he hadn't been that lucky. He had found himself endowed with a keen sense of mind-body coordination and a connoisseur's appreciation of violence. Most unfortunate of all, he had been cursed with enough intelligence to understand just how dangerous that made him, both to himself and others.
    "You want us to hide in one of these old shacks?"
    Mercy was panting, not so much from the exertion of the short dash across the open field, but from her own adrenaline. Croft had seen the syndrome before. It took training and willpower to conserve the wild rush of energy adrenaline caused. Mercy was holding up amazingly well. He was aware of a new level of respect for this woman.
    "I'm going to put you in that one over there by the creek. It's set back behind the others. Not likely to be one that will be searched right away."
    "Searched! You expect whoever's in that Jeep to look for us here?"
    "If they spot the car in the trees they'll start looking for us. There's