"Uh-huh. I'm willing to let you get away with this one because I've never heard of a cloud associated with a faery ring, but I'm not going to go so easy on you next time." Sarah smiled as she spoke, digging her key out of her camera bag. I rolled my eyes. "Dibs the bathtub first."

"You're mean," I answered, fitting my own key into the lock.

"You're not supposed to get your owies wet."

"I am not Tyler," I said with infinite dignity, despite the various bandages swathing my arms, hands, and one eyebrow. "He is six and an extremely precocious child whom you spoil shamelessly. I am just a friend who is subjected to your abuse under the guise of concern." I opened the door on the last of my words, flipped on the light, and stared with stunned disbelief at my room.

"Uh…Sarah?"

"Hmm?" She paused in her doorway, looking back at me.

"The kidnapper is here."

She stared at me for a moment, then hurried after me as I entered my room. "Oh! The nerve! I'll get the police—"

I snatched up the nearest item at hand to use as a weapon—which turned out to be a paperback Agatha Christie novel—and threw myself in front of Sarah, fully intending to protect my friend despite my injuries, as the deranged kidnapper moved toward her.

The man moved faster than I thought, however. He seemed to blur as he moved, one minute standing next to the chair on the opposite side of the room, the next in front of Sarah, his hand on the door to keep it from opening any further, his head tipped down so he could look her in the eyes.

"There is no need for you to call the authorities," he said in his deep, slightly Irish voice that contrasted so oddly with his dark skin and exotic eyes.

"There most certainly is!" Sarah protested.

I added my two cents, stalking forward with my book held in a threatening manner. "I'd say assault and kidnapping is grounds for arrest. The police were very interested in having a word with you. I'm sure they will be delighted to discuss the issue."