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Gia's confusion was giving way to fury. She clipped the words as she spoke them.

"But what's this got to do with putting Jack to sleep?"

"Well, as I was visiting my friendly neighborhood drug dealer—"

"Drugs? You?"

He shrugged. "I've been clean awhile, but the events of the last three or so days nudged me back into some old bad habits. So anyway, I'm listening to him list his wares as he's wont to do, and I hear him mention Georgia Home Boy. Now, he's mentioned this every time, but tonight, feeling the way I did, it hit me right between the eyes. That was the answer."

"Answer to what? What's Georgia—?"

"Georgia Home Boy—the acronym of which is GHB, which stands for gamma-hydroxy-butyrate or something like that. It's also called Grievous Bodily Harm, which yields the wrong acronym, but then, you can't expect the folks who use this stuff to be Einsteins. Anyway, it's one of those so-called date-rape drugs."

A flash of rage burned through Gia. "You gave Jack a date-rape drug?"

He smiled and held up the bottle. "Right in here. Odorless, colorless, and pretty much tasteless, especially in something like scotch. Mix it with alcohol—this batch is one-hundred proof—and it's good night, Nellie."

"But weren't you—?"

"Drinking it too?" He shook his head. "Just pretending. There's a wet spot next to my chair where I dumped it. Sorry about the rug."

Who cared about the rug?

"You… you still haven't told me why."

He put down the bottle, reached into the shopping bag, and came up with a familiar-looking container.

"You remember this, don't you?"

She nodded, her mouth dry.

Tom put the container down and stepped toward Jack.

"Okay, then let's put it to work."

Gia's legs went rubbery. She had to grab the back of the chair to stay upright.

"You can't. It won't work. The book said—"

"I know what the book said, and I'm sure it's right. But there doesn't seem to be any intelligence behind the Lilitongue. Like it's designed to perform certain tasks, and allow certain things within certain limits. I got to thinking that if it's just a dumb infernal device, maybe I can fool it."

Gia had a sense of where this might be going but dared not acknowledge it. Hoping… believing… she'd be setting herself up for a crushing fall.

"You?"

"Well, people have been saying how much we look alike. Hell, if I was ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter—okay, forty pounds lighter—they might think we were twins. Our DNA's got to be similar. And I thought, maybe we're enough alike to confuse the Lilitongue… allow me to grab the Stain because maybe it won't recognize the difference between us."

Gia couldn't speak past the fist she'd pressed against her mouth.

Tom looked at her. "Kind of a shock, hmmm? I'm kind of shocked myself. And I'll tell you flat out I'm scared witless. So help me open his shirt before I change my mind."

Gia could only nod. Her fingers were numb, clumsy as she fumbled at the buttons. Jack was so out of it, almost comatose.

Finally she found her voice. "But why drug him like this?"

Tom snorted. "Come on. You know the answer to that. You've known him for years and I've only known the grown Jack for three weeks, but I know how he'd react. And so do you."

Gia nodded. "He wouldn't let you."

"Right. A month—hell, a week ago I'd have thought no one but an imbecile would turn down an offer like this. But knowing what I know about Jack, he'd be just that imbecile. But I can see now it's not stupidity, it's not foolishness. It's… it's being the rock you talked about. He'd see it as his problem and he'd solve it or find a way through it, and no way would he allow anyone, especially his no-account brother, to stand in and take the fall for him. Am I right or am I right?"

"You're right," Gia said as she finished unbuttoning the shirt. "You are so right."

What else was there to say? Tom had nailed his brother.

Together she and Tom pulled up Jack's underlying T-shirt. She gasped when she saw the edges of the Stain only millimeters apart.

"Jesus," Tom breathed. "Better hurry."

"But…" She couldn't help it: She was baffled. "Why?"

Tom began unbuttoning his own shirt and pulling it off.

"Well, as I said before, you were willing to take Vicky's place, Jack was willing to take yours, so I guess it's up to me to take Jack's—if I can."

Gia watched in disbelieving awe as he stood bare-chested and opened the container. He smeared the mixture on both his palms and looked at her.

"Okay. How does this work?"

"You…" Her voice sounded faint, miles away. "You press your hand over the Stain and wish it for your own."

He frowned. "Wish? Really? That's it?"

Gia nodded, fearing if she spoke she might break whatever spell was at work here.

Tom took a tremulous breath. "Okay. Here goes. I'm going to use both hands. A two-pronged approach, you might say."

She noticed how his hands wavered and trembled as they approached the Stain, but he kept moving them forward until his palms lay flat against Jack's skin, one on each end of the creeping black band.

"And now I wish."

Gia held her breath as Tom closed his eyes. A voice filled her head saying, Please, God, oh please, oh please, oh, please.

He suddenly stiffened, his arms straightening and jittering, his body shaking as if he'd grabbed a hot electric wire. His eyes snapped open as he arched his back and cried out in agony.

And then Gia noticed a mark on the back of each hand—black… and lengthening, stretching over Tom's trembling wrists, then up his shaking arms to his shoulders, then disappearing onto his back. She watched in horrid fascination as a black band snaked around each side of his chest to stop bare millimeters apart over his breastbone.

At last he stopped shaking. His hands pulled from Jack as he staggered back.

Gia turned from Tom to Jack, looking for the Stain. But Jack's skin was clear, unmarred.

She dropped to her knees next to him and sobbed.

Saved!

3

-0:08

When pain ceased, when he'd regained some modicum of control over his swaying, trembling body, it took all of Tom's will not to drop beside Gia and sob along with her. But with terror, not relief.

He looked down at his chest. The itching told him what he'd find, but he had to see. A low moan escaped at the sight of those black bands. At first glance they looked as if their ends were already touching, then he spotted a hairline of clear skin between them.

Since this crazy idea had gripped him, he'd known his chance of success was slim to none. But he'd figured that when his grand gesture failed, he'd rise in Gia's estimation simply for trying.

But he'd succeeded and this sent tremors of terror and triumph roiling through him. Part of him screaming in panic, and another part proud, cheering.

Gradually the feelings faded, replaced by a strange peace, a peace like nothing he had ever known.

Still no guarantee that this Lilitongue escape was going to happen. Best-case scenario was that it would be a bust and he'd end up standing here with this big brown mark encircling his body. But that would score even more points with Gia. And Jack too. They'd owe him.

But that wasn't what had spurred him.

"Gia," he said softly.

She looked up at him and saw in her blue eyes what he'd longed to see: Some—not all, but a good deal—of the light that shone in those eyes when she looked at Jack.