He started right off with "Monster Mash," and they segued into one of their own songs, "Angel of Darkness," and then straight into an Ozzy Osbourne piece.

Finn watched the light play on Megan's hair.

He wished he could reach out and touch it.

He could not.

She wanted distance, and he intended to give her that. He meant to be simply businesslike, cool, collected.

Mostly, he thought, he was succeeding.

Then, there were those moments…

His fingers moved over the keyboard synthesizer by rote. He found himself looking out at the crowd, in shadow to him because of the lights on stage. It did appear as if they were in a den of monsters. But they were normal monsters. All the sickles held by grim reapers were plastic, as were the knives carried by the Jasons, Freddies, and others. Some costumes were cheap, some were good. They kind of merged in the shadowy recesses of the club.

Monsters, in life, didn't look all that different, he reminded himself. Ted Bundy had been a monster. A good-looking man, capable of engaging charm. That was where sanity came in, and that was what he had to remember. He was still amazed himself that he had called the couple in New Orleans, and that he was giving any credence at all to a book on entities and demons. But he was glad that he had called. It all came back to people. Old crazies like Fallon, cooking up potions in the kitchen. The people here were not trustworthy. Whether they were in actuality strangers or not, he had a lot more faith in the folk from New Orleans than he did in anyone here. Even if it seemed that he and Sara were now on something of the same wavelength, he didn't trust her. He definitely didn't trust Morwenna or Joseph. He'd go ahead and shoot himself before he ever risked a word to Fallon or Susanna. Mike Smith was after his wife. The folks at the hotel seemed decent enough, but they were definitely and essentially strangers. The cop and his twin the bookseller seemed all right, but the bookseller had some strange reading habits. Theo Martin seemed on the up and up, but…

Megan turned slightly, and he could see her profile. Bands seemed to constrict in his heart. She was truly perfection. Her face, so well etched, bone structure so cleanly designed. She was lithe, she was graceful.

Perfect skin, beautiful eyes, full, generous mouth, white teeth, flashing smile, high breasts, slim waist, long, sculpted legs. Maybe someone here wanted him out of the way. Because he, too, saw Megan as perfect.

It didn't make sense. How could someone else make him have dreams?

Make him want to take her, seize her… hurt her.

He looked at the sea of faces in their various forms of masquerade before him. An eerie sensation filled him.

Someone did want him out of the way. Whoever, it seemed, was succeeding. Megan had split from him.

She was with Aunt Martha. Safe.

And he had to keep his distance. Watch after her, but keep his distance. Tomorrow…

Hell if knew why. Tomorrow was going to be better. He knew how to fight.

And he intended to do so.

During the first break, Finn excused himself and disappeared entirely. Megan, chatting with diners at the bar, was disturbed to realize that she didn't see Sara either.

"Who are you looking for? Maybe I can help you."

Megan swung around. The question had been asked by the Frankenstein monster at her side. Good costume and makeup. He appeared to be entirely green.

"No one," she replied, forcing a smile. "Just observing all the costumes. They're great. Yours is great."

"Thanks!"

If nothing else, she had made one monster very happy.

He complimented her appearance, and she thanked him, still watching for Finn and Sara. At last, she saw Finn heading for the stage. She excused herself to the monster, and headed on up to join him.

During the second break, Finn had a beer with a man in a brown monk's cowl and half mask. Morwenna and Joseph arrived during the third set. Her cousin waved to her, indicating that she'd ordered dinner for her. Megan smiled back, nodding. She thought Finn would have joined them for dinner. He didn't. But Morwenna and Joseph obviously knew just what was going on.

"You could have called me," Morwenna said reproachfully.

"I knew Finn would think I had gone to you."

"Well, Megan, my dear, it would have been rather decent of you to have told him that it was all right.

And you should have come to me."

"Morwenna, no offense intended, but he already thinks your Wiccan beliefs might have something to do with me losing my mind and having nightmares. Aunt Martha is such a neutral, she seemed the right person to go to."

Morwenna shrugged, studying her over a cosmopolitan. "Whatever is going on here has nothing to do with Wiccans. But I do believe with my whole heart that there is something going on here!"

Megan remembered old Andy Markham's words. Bac-Dal wants you.

Ridiculous. Other than that, with words like that said to her in a spooky old cemetery filled with unhallowed graves, she was made to feel a certain superstitious fear.

But what about Finn? He hadn't been with Andy in the woods; he hadn't heard the words. And she had never told him she'd gone out to meet with Andy, never told him any of the things Andy had said. She'd been afraid that he'd be too furious with the story the old man had told her, and more. He'd have been too angry with her for going out to such a godforsaken place to meet with the fellow.

He'd heard different stories, she reminded herself impatiently. There were ghosts and skeletons and monsters everywhere.

"There is something going on," she said, forcing herself to sound impatient and incredulous. "Like what, Morwenna? What on earth could possibly cause you to have bad dreams—except for the things you experience during the day? Maybe it's me, maybe it's Finn, maybe it's both of us. Halloween is almost here and gone. I just want to keep a distance for both our sakes until… until we leave here. Go home.

And if we keep having weird dreams, we'll find a reputable psychologist in our own area who can give us some help."

Joseph leaned across the table. "Listen to me, Megan. You can't continue to be such a skeptic when…

you both need help!" he said firmly.

Not surprised by his words, but definitely taken aback by his strange tone, Megan frowned at Jamie Gray, hoping he would offer a line of sanity. But Jamie shrugged.

"Who the hell would any of us be to say that strange things don't go on in the world."

"The murder in Boston is really distressing," Morwenna said.

Frowning, Megan stared at Morwenna. "Murder is always horrible. I saw the news. A young woman was apparently raped, murdered, and thrown in the river. Yes, that's very distressing. Unfortunately, it happens far too often. Why is that particular murder so distressing?"

Morwenna stared at her hard. "Meg! Come on. Boston. She was apparently killed a month ago. In Boston."

"So, what does that have to do with us? All right, sorry, we're not an hour out, so someone who committed a heinous murder did so not very far away. We have a high murder rate in New Orleans. It doesn't stop us from going out."

"Megan—" Morwenna began.

"Don't," Joseph said suddenly, firmly.

"Don't what?"

"Don't get her going on things you know nothing about! "Joseph said firmly.

Megan stared at Joseph, then at her cousin. "What? You think that this guy is in Salem now? Do you think he's a serial killer? From what I've seen, the police don't really know anything yet. It might have been a horrible crime committed because of jealousy and anger. I'm sure they're checking out any ex-boyfriends, her family, and coworkers. I don't remember the exact percentages, but most violence against women comes from their immediate family or social circle. Although random killings happen as well, when there is a psychopath on the loose."

All three of them were just staring at her. Almost as if she were a naive child, and Joseph had been right, there was no real need to make her open her eyes to real terror in the world.

She glanced toward the stage and saw that Finn was back. Time to go play. As she rose, aware that the three of them were still watching her covertly, she felt a chill seep into her.

Boston. A month ago. Bight. Finn had come through Boston a month ago.

Was that what they were trying to say to her?

Lord, that was the most ridiculous thought that had passed through her mind yet. What? On his urgent trek to reach her, he had stopped off in Boston to murder a girl? That was beyond absurd. She knew Finn.

She had known him once.

He played through the intro to a Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs' hit twice. She picked up on her next cue.

Their last break came. Finn left the stage first and went by Morwenna and Joseph's table, smiled, gave Morwenna a kiss on the cheek, then moved on. This time, he didn't disappear. As Megan wandered over to the bar for a fresh water with lemon, she saw him talking to Sam Tartan, who seemed pleased with the busy turnout, and then, once again, he had a beer with the fellow in the monk's cape and half mask.

As she sat at the bar, she felt a tap on her shoulder and quickly turned around. She didn't recognize the person in the executioner's mask and black cowl.

"You all right?"

"Mike?" she said, hearing the voice.

He gave her a broad smile. "Okay, so I gave in to the concept of dress-up. You look stunning, by the way. Great show, lots of fun. I love the music you're choosing."

"Finn chose it."

"Hey, I'd compliment him, but I don't think that he'd appreciate it. He doesn't like me very much."

"That's not true. He's just… tense… here."

She could sense that Mike was smiling. "I don't know, Megan. I'm getting vibes."

She had to laugh. "You're getting vibes? Mike, you're the academic. You can't be getting vibes."

"Okay, then maybe it's the way he looks at me. Or when he shakes my hand. Powerful grip your fellow has there. I feel like he's ready to crush my bones."