She wore delicate drop earrings of a pale blue crystal that sparkled in the lights of the restaurant against her blonde hair in a way that fascinated Jim Ellison. Her face was a delicate oval, her blue eyes daintily highlighted to perfection and her lips were a soft kissable pink pout that had attracted him from the word go. Unfortunately, he kept zoning out on her looks rather than her mind.

"Jim, are you listening to me?"

"I'm sorry about that. Things have been kind of busy, Jessie."

"You’ve cancelled two dates on me and walked out in the middle of dinner once...."

"Something urgent came up."

"It always does with you. I’m starting to think it’s me."

Jim smiled at her and made polite reassurances, wondering why he had the sudden feeling he was talking to his ex wife. Jessie was a really nice lady, she had style and intelligence and he couldn’t deny he was physically attracted to her in a big way, but he couldn’t seem to actually stay focused on what she was saying for more than fives minutes before he got distracted. This time it was her earrings, last time it had been a sapphire eyed cat brooch she had been wearing.

Maybe Sandburg was right and it was all pheromones...

"Well, at least you’re here now," Jessie smiled back at him happily, reaching across the snow white tablecloth to tickle a long pink fingernail against the back of his hand. "And maybe we can go back to my place for that coffee you keep suggesting? We can talk...."

Ellison felt a surge of interest and grinned, giving the old pheromones the thumbs up. "Why don’t we do that?" he agreed warmly, turning over his hand to capture hers and rub his thumb along the back of her fingers. Jessie’s blue eyes darkened with warmth.

"I’d like to spend more time with you...." she murmured.

"I’d like...." Ellison paused, feeling the vibration of his cell phone in his jacket pocket. "I uh, that is...." he mumbled, releasing her hand to reach for it.

"Don’t tell me," she said impatiently. "Captain Banks? I thought you were going to switch that damn thing off. In fact you promised me..."

"Well, you know how it is...." he said feebly as he slid out of his chair.

"No," she said coldly. "And if you walk out on me in the middle of dinner again, Ellison, you can forget about me ever speaking to you again."

Jim smiled at her weakly as he backed away and flipped open his phone. "Ellison...."

"Jim, it’s Simon...."

"Simon, whatever it is, now is not a good time. It’s my evening off and I am in the middle of dinner with a very lovely lady." Jim gave Jessie his best smile that went down like a ton of bricks with the lady. "A very expensive dinner I might add..."

"I'm at the university..."

"I really don’t care...."

"There’s been a murder and...."

"We haven’t even reached dessert, although..."

"Blair’s hurt."

Ellison braked in mid refusal and turned his back on Jessie, lowering his voice to speak to Banks. "Sandburg?! How bad?" he queried in alarm.

"He’s with the medics right now. He’s out cold."

"What the hell is he doing there? I left him at home."

"How should I know? He’s hardly able to tell me. I thought you’d want to know."

Ellison glanced over his shoulder at the gathering fury on Jessie’s face and winced. She was going to kill him, but what else could he do? Sandburg was a hell of a lot more important to him than a relationship with a woman he was already have trouble dealing with. "I’ll be right there, Simon." Flipping the phone shut, Jim braced himself and turned on his most charming smile. "Jessie, I'm sorry. I have to go...."

"I might have known. We almost made it to dessert this time too."

"I’ll make it up to you," Ellison promised as he fished out his billfold to pay for the meal.

"Don’t bother explaining," she said coolly. "I guess it wasn't meant to be. What is it this time? Cascade Bridge under siege? Diamond heist? I guess I don’t even get a ride home again..."

"Look, I'm sorry. But this is important."

"It always is," she said primly. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to get dumped in the middle of a restaurant? People stare...."

Jim suppressed a flare of impatience. "You remember Blair? He’s been hurt." He gestured helplessly. "I've got to go."

The irritation faded slightly from her face. "Oh, Blair’s hurt? He’s sweet. I hope he’ll be okay. What happened?"

"I don’t know yet. I’ll call you."

"Okay, but only to let me know about Blair."

"Jessie, I...." Under her cool stare Ellison gave in. Like his ex wife she wasn't going to understand no matter what he said. "Okay. Sorry...." Giving her quick kiss on a smooth cheek, Ellison hurried out, nodding to the startled waiter as he suppressed the urge to run. It was only a block or two to the university. The restaurant was one Sandburg had suggested when Jim was desperately looking for a way to placate Jessie’s ruffled temper; it was all elegant décor, incredibly high prices and very small portions and Jim was seriously wishing he hadn’t bothered. Perhaps if he had been willing to let Jessie slip through his fingers, he would have been with Sandburg and his partner wouldn't have been hurt.

It was only when he got to the pick up that Jim remembered that Banks had mentioned a murder...

* * *

The university was a blaze of light when Ellison slid his black pick up truck in next to Simon’s parked car and slid out into the cool night air. The first thing that hit him was the smell of blood, its metallic taint thick on the air. Grimacing and mentally suppressing the scent from his sense of smell, Jim looked round sharply, seeking any sign of Sandburg. There was an ambulance parked further up by the grass verge and he started towards it instinctively, catching the faint hint of herbal shampoo Sandburg had been using.

"Jim! You made good time!" Banks appeared out of the shadows, striding towards him with his dark raincoat swirling around him.

Ellison suppressed the urge to swear. "The restaurant was only ten minutes away. How’s Sandburg?"

"Awake now. The medics have got him lying down. They want to take him to hospital but he’s refusing to go."

"We’ll see about that....Captain, you mentioned a murder?"

"One of the university professors was hacked to death in the lecture theatre. Looks like Sandburg interrupted the killer."

"You think he saw the perp?"

"Possibly. Two security guards heard noises and came to check it out. They probably saved Sandburg’s life. Rudy’s getting a description from them now. I want you to see what you can get out of Sandburg."

"Will do. You want me to check out the lecture theatre?"

"Forensics are taking a look first."

Ellison nodded in relief, glad that he wasn’t going to have to prioritise between his friend and the murder scene. Parting from Banks, he headed for the ambulance, lengthening his stride as he caught the strengthening scent of blood.

The doors at the back of the vehicle were open and he heard Blair’s slightly querulous voice complaining as he approached across the damp grass.

"Look, I'm fine, okay? All I need is to go home before Jim finds out...."

"Finds out what, chief? That’s you’re not safe to be let out of my sight?" Ellison queried dryly as he climbed into the back of the vehicle and nodded to the dark skinned paramedic leaning over his curly haired partner. "I already knew that." He scanned Sandburg critically, taking in his pale features and glazed eyes and the heavy bandaging wrapped around his left upper arm where his jacket had been cut away. The white gauze was stained red with blood.

"Very funny. What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you that. Simon called me. What’s your excuse? I thought you were going to turn in early?"

"I uh...."

Jim caught the flare of panic that rushed through Sandburg’s blue eyes. "Blair?" he prompted gently and then put a firm hand on his shoulder when Sandburg started to struggle to sit up. He didn't need the paramedic to tell him his friend should stay flat. "Hey, take it easy."

"I don’t know...."

"What?"

"I don’t know what I'm doing here! I was at home, the next thing I know I'm waking up here with this ghoul hanging over me...."

Jim raised an eyebrow at the disgusted sniff from the paramedic. "How’s he doing?" he asked him.

"Look, he was out cold for quite a while and he’s probably concussed. Now he sounds like he’s got partial amnesia. He’s lost a lot of blood and he needs stitches in his arm. As far as I'm concerned, I should be strapping him down and taking him to the hospital right now not letting him talk to you."

"I'm not going!" Blair growled at him.

"Yes, you are," Ellison said flatly. "We’re not taking any risks here."

"Jim, I’m fine."

"Oh yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Hey, I don’t have my glasses on...."

Jim snorted. "Difficult as it is to tell with you at times, you could be concussed. So, you’re going."

"Jim...."

"You’re going. So stop arguing and relax. You remember anything at all about this evening?"

"Uh...." The panic flared bright in his eyes again and Ellison instinctively caught hold of his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"It’s okay, chief. You got clobbered, that’ll jolt the memories out of sync. Hey, my turn to experiment on you, huh?"

"That’s so not funny," Sandburg shot back with a grimace that was more pain than humour. The paramedic made a jerky movement and Jim caught the worried expression on his face.

"Sorry, kid. Look, you relax and let them take care of you, okay? I’ll finish up here and come see you."

"You’d better come and get me, you mean," Sandburg warned. "I'm not....juice...."

"What?" Ellison eyed him in alarm.

"Last thing I remember. You complaining we were out of juice...."

"Ah, that’s good. You’ve lost a couple of hours, that’s all. That’s not so bad, huh?"

"Not for you maybe. For me...." Blair half shrugged and flinched at the stab of pain that shot from shoulder to elbow, radiating down into his fingertips. "Ooh, man, that hurts...." he whimpered as what little colour he had had faded from his face.

"Still say you’re not going? You need stitches, kid. Go and stop me worrying, okay?"

"Okay, okay. Anything to get rid of the persistent nagging pain...."

"You mean me, don’t you?" Ellison said dryly and Sandburg gave him a rueful grin. Jim squeezed his fingers again. "I’ll see you later, kid. Take care...."

* * *

Hacked to death was right, Jim thought gloomily as he studied the blood soaked remains of what had once been Professor Norman as they lay in a messy heap on the wooden floor of the lecture theatre. Someone had chopped at him in a fury, almost severing the body in two and severely damaging the legs, arms and head. It was difficult to see the remains at a human being any more and in some ways, it was easier not to...

The trio from Forensics were still checking the lecture theatre, fanning out from the centre of the murder scene and the area where Sandburg had been attacked.

"When you’ve finished, we’ll let Forensics remove the body for examination They think the first blow came from behind and killed him instantly," Banks said grimly.

"That must have been a mercy, The rest was sheer temper...." Jim agreed quietly, crouching to look without touching, letting his eyes focus in tightly on a wound to the upper chest. "Thin, deep wounds, like slices...." He pursed his lips in a little grimace of thought.

"Sword maybe?"

"Machete. I’ve seen wounds like this before...." Jim paused, scanning the wooden floor for clues and mentally running the scenarios.

"That would fit with what the security guards said."

"He turned his back on his killer. First blow came here...." Thinking aloud, Jim indicated the back of the head and the gaping wound through the neck where bone glistened white. "The rest? I don't think the killer actually meant to kill him...."

"He made a good effort for an accident...."

Ellison shook his head, his hand hovering over the body as he pointed to a bloody mark out of place on the dark jacket, making a mental note to get the patch checked for possible DNA from the suspect. "He hit him. Norman went down. The killer turned him over, realised what he had done, lost his temper...." Jim mimed the blade coming down. "He must have wanted something from him very badly...."

"And the Professor probably knew the perp. He must have agreed to meet him here. Did Sandburg tell you anything at all?"

"It’s a complete blank to him right now. He’s pretty shaken up, Captain. I didn’t want to press him."

"The security guards haven’t been able to give us much. They identified Professor Norman. They knew he was here. He arrived after Sandburg. When they heard screaming, they came to check it out. They only caught a glimpse of the killer, not enough to give us identification. Dark clothes, male....armed....Sandburg may be able to do better."

Remembering Blair’s panicked expression Jim wasn't sure about that. He straightened up slowly. "We’d better off getting DNA samples for now," he said quietly. "Where’d they find Sandburg?"

"Up here." Banks led the way up the steps to the double doors. "Looks like he heard the screaming too. Walked through the doors and straight into the killer. Near as I can figure it, the killer took a swing at him, sliced him and Sandburg took a step back, tripped and went down...The security guards came in that way...." Simon motioned back into the put of the lecture theatre to the other doors. "...and scared him off. Otherwise...."

"Sandburg wouldn’t be around to talk about it. Captain, he needs protection. If the killer thinks he can identify him...."

Banks nodded grimly. "I sent a couple of men to stay with him. He’ll be fine."

Ellison nodded an acknowledgement he didn’t feel. Sandburg was his responsibility. Sentinel and Shaman, that’s how it was. His partner, his responsibility....

"Jim?"

"Sorry, Captain. You were saying?"

"I said, stop worrying. He’ll be fine."

Jim forced a smile. "Sure," he agreed, running his eyes carefully over the scene. A few threads caught on the rough edge of a wooden seat told him where Sandburg had fallen and he went to examine the spot, finding flecks of blood that he pointed out to Banks to be checked. "Looks like the perp had time to get close to Sandburg, enough to ID him if he needs to." Frowning, Ellison looked around, peering under the seats.

"Lost something?" Banks prompted.

"Yeah. Sandburg’s rucksack....He didn't have it with him when I saw him...."

"It’s not here," Banks said uneasily. "You sure he had it with him?"

"He didn't say. But..." Jim pursed his lips and shrugged.

"But if he did, the killer may have taken it," Banks finished for him. "If Sandburg knew Norman, the killer may have thought he was coming to meet him. He might have thought there was something valuable in the rucksack. Jim, is there any chance Blair was meeting Norman?"

"Aw, come on, Captain. You don't think Sandburg’s the killer!"

"I didn't say that. But he didn't tell you he was coming here...."

"I'm not his keeper." Ellison frowned. "Problem is, if Sandburg had any ID in that bag, he may know who he is and where he lives....Captain, I have to get back to the loft...."

* * *

"It’ll be difficult to tell if anyone’s searched the place. It looks like it’s already been ransacked," Banks said dryly a while later as he surveyed the drifts of files and folders and handwritten notes scattered over the table and couch of Ellison’s apartment. "You ever thought of getting a bookshelf?"

"It was like this when I left. Sandburg’s doing some research," Ellison answered as he scanned the apartment, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. Annoying though the mess was to the hyper tidy Sentinel, he knew Sandburg would clean up when he had finished; he had undoubtedly expected to be back long before Jim. And this wasn't as bad as some of the strange things that materialised in the kitchen....

"But someone has been in here...." He inhaled slowly, concentrating on picking out all the little differences; herbal shampoo, detergent, an indefinable scent that was a stranger, something sharp but spicy and some all too familiar.... "I smell blood...."

"The killer must have come straight here," Banks said grimly. "He can’t have been looking for Sandburg then. No way he could be back here that fast. Uh, Jim?"

"There’s no one here." Ellison didn't need to physically check to be sure of that.

"Can you tell if the place has been searched?"

Jim hesitated, fighting to lift above the smells drifting around him. "Doesn’t look like it. But....what is that smell?"

"What smell?"

"Can’t you smell it? Tangy, like some kind of spice...."

"Sandburg’s cooking?"

"No, I don't recognise it...." Ellison ran a tired hand down his face.

"Why’d the killer come here if not to find Sandburg or to search the place?"

"I don’t know, Captain. Maybe whatever he’s looking for is big enough to see. Let me go over the place and see what I can find."

"I’ll get Forensics here...."

"Uh no, Captain. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t do that. That stuff they use makes me so hyper you’d have to scrape me off the ceiling. Let me do it my way."

"At least let them check the door. That lock was picked...."

Ellison grimaced. "Captain...."

"Rules, Jim."

Ellison surrendered. "Okay, okay, But no spraying...."

* * *

Sandburg shifted slowly, moving his sore head gingerly against the pillow as he turned over. After a moment he noticed the shadowy figure outlined against the window and squinted at his partner. "Jim?"

"Hey, chief. You awake...?" Ellison ambled over to the bed to grin down at him.

"Mmmh, what time is it?"

"A little after eight."

"Eight?" Blair rubbed his eyes and started to push himself up on one elbow, flopping back with a yelp of pain. "Man, I feel wiped."

"Not surprising. You lost a lot of blood. You know where you are?"

"Oh yeah, you traitor. You were supposed to come and get me...."

"I did. You were sound asleep." Ellison sat on the edge of the bed and studied him critically, taking in his pale face and tired eyes. At least he was focusing, he noted, as Sandburg glared at him. "You remember what happened?"

Alarm flashed quickly through Blair’s blue eyes, but it was quickly suppressed. Sandburg knew that Jim didn't like emotional displays and Ellison felt a twinge of conscience at the realisation he was hiding his feelings for his sake. "I know someone hit me," Blair said carefully. "And apparently someone took a slice out of me with a knife....but other than that, it’s all a blur."

"You don't know why you were at the university."

"Haven’t a clue."

"No idea who attacked you? Or why?"

"Nope. Big grey blank time. Can I go home now?"

"The doctors said you’re supposed to stay in for observation."

"Hey, can I get better observation than by you? Come on, Jim. So some dope head burglar takes a swing at me. It’s no big deal..."

Jim didn't think Sandburg quite knew what he was talking about, but he wasn't going to enlighten him. Not yet anyway. As Banks had said, they couldn’t afford to feed Blair information. They needed his real memories, not ones created from their suggestions.

"If you think it’s important that I remember, I should get out of here. Free floating association and all that," Sandburg coaxed.

"What?"

"I need to go back to the university and trigger some vibes, man."

"You do not. You need to rest."

"I can do that at home." Blair gave him a pleading look. "This place isn’t conducive to my inner harmonies, Jim. I need my own room."

Ellison thought of the folders scattered over the couch and sighed. He knew exactly what would happen if he took Sandburg back to the apartment. Two seconds after they walked through the door and Blair would have his head in a book and his mind off with the pygmies. On the other hand, Ellison was going to fret about leaving him here alone even under guard. Guards which Sandburg knew nothing about at the moment. And that was going to be difficult to explain as well....

"Jim?" Blair wheedled.

"Okay, okay. Let me talk to the doctors. If they check you over and say it’s okay, then you we’ll see...." Sandburg brightened up. "But you’re going to be doing exactly what I say...."

"Don’t I always?" Sandburg chirped brightly.

"No...." Jim sighed heavily and gave in. Sandburg was nigh on irrepressible. It was part of his charm. That and his cat like curiosity about anything and everything. Curiosity had probably been why he had been in the lecture theatre in the middle of the night in the first place...

* * *

Sliding a glance sideways at Ellison as he drove, Blair frowned to himself. Jim seemed even tenser than normal. He had been on tenterhooks all the way down to the pick up and he had practically stuffed his partner into the car and shut him in like he was an escaped cat. Something was obviously bothering him and Blair wasn't sure he was up to prising it out of him.

"And I don't have a can opener handy anyway," he muttered under his breath.

Ellison of course heard him. "What?" he queried, flashing a worried look at him as he caught the irrelevant comment.

"Nothing, thinking out loud is all."

"Oh...." Ellison switched his attention back to the road and his intense scowl once more spread over his face.

"Okay, so what’s bugging you?" Sandburg prompted. "I mean what happened to me is no big deal. So the university had a break in. So what?"

"It wasn't a burglar."

"No? What then?"

Jim flicked a glance at him. "I can’t tell you."

"Ooh, big secret is it?"

"Until you get your memory back, yeah."

"Oh...." Blair fell silent and Ellison zoned out again. Sandburg sighed. "Okay, tell you what I’ll do. We get back to the loft, I can do some meditation. I know a couple of yogic incantations...." He hesitated; pretty sure Jim wasn’t actually listening. Ellison grunted vaguely. "Candles, incense...." No, he wasn't listening. Jim always got twitchy over the mention of incense. "Put a couple of pagan virgins on the sacrifice. Chop up some magic mushrooms...."

"That’ll be good...." Jim muttered absently.

"Take some Peyote...."

"Whatever, chief. We need.....Woah! Peyote?!" Ellison gave him a shocked stare.

"Gee, you were listening," Blair said innocently, then yelped. "Watch the road, Jim, watch the road!"

Ellison swerved around the on coming truck as it came out of a side turning. "Yeah, yeah, I see it. Magic mushrooms? Sandburg!"

"Oh, stop bellowing at me. I was kidding. You weren’t even listening...."

"Pagan virgin sacrifices...."

Blair grinned. "Yeah, well, maybe I wasn’t kidding about that...."

"There are times when I think I should lock you up and throw away the key," Ellison growled at him.

"And you need to lighten up. Come on, Jim, what’s so awful you can’t tell me about it?"

"I can’t until you remember."

Sandburg shook his head in frustration and turned to stare out of the window, absently rubbing his sore arm. What was so important about him remembering? He didn't particularly want to remember, he knew that. The feelings he got when he struggled to push past the grey block in his mind were too scary not to worry about. "Sometimes amnesia is a way of protecting yourself," he murmured.

Jim flashed a sharp glance at him, realising that Blair didn't realise he had spoken aloud. Sandburg wasn't quite himself yet. "Hey, take it easy, chief," he said quietly. "There’s no rush."

"Then why’s it so important?"

"We want the guy who attacked you."

"Talk to the security guards then. They must have seen him," Sandburg retorted, still staring from the window.

Ellison tightened his grip on the steering wheel and spoke carefully. "You remember that then?" he said casually.

"Sure. They came in the bottom entrance. I guess the door was locked or something. They made enough noise to....uh....." Blair turned his head slowly and stared at his partner. "I need to drop by the university and grab my bag...."

"What makes you think you left it there?" Jim said coolly.

"I don’t have it now and if I went to the university, I’d have taken it with me."

"We’ll look for it tomorrow."

"No, I want it now."

"For crying out loud, it can wait until tomorrow. I'm supposed to take you straight home to rest."

"It’s got my research in it," Blair protested.

"Research you’re not going to be doing...."

"That isn’t the point! It’s important."

"Look, I’ll swing by your lab and find it after I drop you off."

"Now!" Sandburg demanded stubbornly.

"No!"

"Damn it. Stop the car. I’ll get a cab."

"A cab?" Jim gave him an incredulous look. "You’re not even supposed to be out of bed let alone go wandering around Cascade on your own."

"Stop the car! If you won’t take me, I’ll go on my own!"

Ellison gave him a baffled look, surprised by his vehemence. "Why’s it so important?" he asked.

"Oh, I don’t know! It’s, I....." Sandburg slumped in confusion. "I don’t know...."

Jim pursed his lips, considering. It was unlike Blair to get so wound up about nothing. "Okay, we’ll swing by and take a look if you’re going to get hysterical about it...."

"I am not hysterical!"

"Sure, chief. You’re calm as a guppy."

Sandburg gave him a murderous look and snapped his teeth shut on his answer. Turning his head with a flurry of dark curls, he very ostentatiously gave Jim the silent treatment.

Ellison’s faint smile slowly turned into a worried frown. He hadn’t wanted to take Sandburg back to the university until he was sure he was okay. Blair didn’t handle murder scenes well at the best of the times and this one had been particularly messy. He wasn't surprised that the combination of corpse and bang on the head had resulted in amnesia. He knew it was only a matter of time before Banks suggested shock treatment by marching Blair into the lecture theatre and confronting him with his own nightmares, but he had hoped to give his partner a couple of days at least to prepare for it.

* * *

Hovering in the doorway of his lab, Blair gave Ellison a frustrated look. "What’s the big idea?" he demanded as Jim prowled the room. "You expecting a crocodile to be lurking under the desk?"

"No harm in being careful."

"Oh please." Sandburg snorted and stepped into his office, come lab, come storage room.

Jim twitched slightly, but suppressed the urge to grab him and drag him back to the safety of the pick up. He watched Blair like a hawk as his partner dropped into a chair at the desk and rummaged through a stack of folders. There was always the possibility of a booby trap. Maybe a poison dart hidden among the files...

"Stop staring at me like that," Sandburg complained.

"I didn't know I was," Jim lied.

Blair frowned at him thoughtfully. "Is it some Sentinel thing, you think?"

"Is what some Sentinel thing?"

"You watching me like this," Blair made circular motions with his hands. "You’ve been doing it since you picked me up, like you’re scared to let me out of your sight. You’re going into Protector mode."

"Ya think?" Jim said sarcastically. "Can’t think why. I let you out of my sight for five minutes and you nearly get your head hacked off by some madman."

Blair smiled. "Dial it back, Jim. You’re over reacting."

That’s all you know – fortunately. Jim snorted and lounged deliberately against the door jamb. "This going to take long, chief?"

"I might run couple of tests," Sandburg said absently. "See how you react to...."

"Like what tests? You getting yourself shot? Forget it, chief. The spider senses are tingling enough now. Get your bag and come on...."

"It isn’t here," Blair sighed. "Some of my papers are missing too."

"How can you tell?" Jim asked dryly since Blair's office was in as much a mess at the loft. "What papers?"

"Shipping schedules. I guess it doesn’t matter. Someone probably borrowed them..."

"What shipping schedules?" Jim pressed sharply.

"What’s it matter?"

"Sandburg...." Ellison growled impatiently.

"Sheesh, grouchy," Blair retorted. "A lot of the lecturers go off on excavations, assignments, quests whatever you want to call it. They ship stuff back to the university for later examination and their assistant logs it in. I guess something came in while I was off and someone grabbed the schedule to log it for me."

Jim took a slow breath. "Whose Professor Norman’s assistant?" he said casually.

An odd stillness crossed Blair's face as if he was looking over a precipice then he shivered, seeming to come back to life. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Does Professor Norman have an assistant?"

"Professor Norman’s a bit of an eccentric genius. He sends stuff back at random. He’s our resident relic hunter, writes books in his spare time and acts like Indiana Jones the rest of it. You never know where he’s going to turn up next. He doesn’t bother to have a regular assistant. If he sends something back, he sends it to whoever he thinks will take the best care of it."

"Do you know where he’s been recently?"

"South America I think." Sandburg rubbed his good hand across his eyes, squinting as if his head was starting hurt.

"You know why?"

"I can’t remember, Jim." Sandburg looked up at him in surprise as Jim padded around the desk and lifted him out of the chair with a grip on his elbow.

"Time to go home, chief."

"Hey, I’ve got stuff to do here...."

"Which you are not going to do. You need to lie down at get some rest after a nice big dinner."

"I was thinking more of grabbing a Wonderburger than cooking..."

"I’ll cook. I brought steaks as a welcome home present."

"Oh. Mushrooms?"

"The non magic variety, yeah."

"Okay, I guess I am kind of tired." Blair conceded, letting Jim steer him out of the lab into the corridor. He let Ellison take the keys to lock the door, vaguely noticing the way his partner ran his fingers over the lock as if examining it for forced entry. It didn’t seem all that important compared to the weird feeling of dislocation washing over him.

Jim looked round to point out the scratches on the lock to Sandburg and found Blair halfway up the corridor. Exasperated, he stalked after him. "I wish you wouldn't go wandering off," he began to complain and then paused, seeing the unfocused look in Blair's blue eyes. "Chief? Blair?" A chill ran down Jim’s back as he got no answer.

Sandburg stalked along the corridor on obvious autopilot, mechanically taking each turn that led through the maze of university corridors. Ellison hovered along beside him, unsure whether he should shake him out of it or not. It was like some kind of weird sleep walking...

Sandburg took the next turn and headed straight for a door sealed with warning crime scene tape. Pushing it open he marched inside while Jim was still figuring out how to stop him.

Ellison was only a second behind his partner, recognising from the smell of old dried blood exactly where they were.

The lecture theatre, bright hazard tape still strung around the edges, the outline on the floor....

And underlying the smell of blood that faint spicy, bitter tang he had smelt in his own apartment. Ellison shook himself, mentally breaking the lure of the scent to concentrate on his friend.

Blair stood woodenly on the top step, staring down into the pit of the lecture theatre at the crime scene....

"Blair...." Jim reached hesitantly for his shoulder, wanting to snap him out of the horrible frozen stillness.

Sandburg jumped a foot and whipped around to face him with a look of horror on his face as he instinctively stepped back away from him and toppled, losing his balance on the edge of the step....

"No!" With a yip of dismay, Ellison lunged and grabbed, yanking Sandburg back from another fall down the flight of steps and dragging him into his arms, holding tight as he struggled and babbled in incoherent hysteria. "Sandburg! Blair! Stop it, chief! It’s me...." he yelled, then softened his voice as Sandburg shuddered and slumped against him. "It’s me, kid. Take it easy...."

Sandburg wrapped his good arm around Jim’s waist and clung to him, burrowing into his shoulder. "Oh god, oh god....." he moaned in terror.

"Sssh, it’s okay, I'm here..."

"Jim...."

"Yeah, it’s okay....."

"No, it isn’t! It was Professor Norman, he was down there...."

"There’s nothing there now...."

"He was! I saw him!" Sandburg yanked away from him and turned, pointing down into the pit where the corpse had been. "He was....there?"

Jim placed his hands on his shoulders and squeezed, holding him still. "Yes, he was. You’re having a flashback, kid."

"There was so much blood. And, and....other....things...." Blair twisted round to look up at him again. "He was murdered...."

"People don't get hacked to bits by accident, chief," Jim replied solemnly. "You remember what happened?"

"I was on the way back to my car when I heard something. A scream....angry....I came in here to see what was going on and.....and...." Sandburg’s eyes started to glaze in shock and Jim gave him a little shake.

"You saw Norman?"

"Yes...."

"Was there anyone with him?"

"No.....I didn't dare go down there, Jim, I c’couldn’t...."

"There would have been nothing you could do. It was all over as soon as the first blow landed."

"I was going to call Simon. But I heard the security guards at the door and then there was a sound behind me and when I turned around there was someone...there....Something flashed, like a knife, I put up my arm and kind of stepped back to dodge and....I remember hurting like crazy and falling and....nothing....And.....and....I think I'm going to throw up."

"Not at a crime scene, Blair, you do not throw up at a crime scene....Lesson one, remember? Come on, out...."

Hustling his partner out of the lecture theatre, Jim steered him rapidly along the corridor until he found a door leading outside into the weak sunshine. Sandburg promptly sank down to sit on the steps as his knees buckled under him.

"I am not going to pass out, I am not going to pass out," he half chanted under his breath as he squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head in his hands.

Ellison sat down patiently on the steps beside him and waited, worried about the intense shivers running through his partner.

"I'm sorry, Jim," Blair whispered.

"Not a problem. Take your time, chief." Jim rested one hand on his back, rubbing reassuringly. "When you’re up to it, we’ll walk back to the car."

"I don’t have to go back in there?"

"No. I wouldn't make you."

"Thanks. If you want to go get the car...."

"I’m not leaving you on your own to get eaten, my little guppy."

"Very funny," Blair retorted.

Jim smiled, hearing him start to bounce back in the snappy retort. "You think you can walk? It’s a bit cold to sit around here for long."

"I can walk," Sandburg climbed shakily to his feet and looked up at Ellison in surprise as the bigger man put his arm around him. "Let’s go and get you a coffee before we go home."

"You only want to get a description out of me before I forget again," Sandburg muttered.

"True. But you also had a pretty nasty shock and I think you could do with coffee and a donut first. My treat, come on..."

* * *

Ellison unlocked the door of the loft, keeping himself between Sandburg and the interior as he listened hard. To his relief, the apartment was empty and he let Blair shove him inside with an impatient push at his back.

"You are getting weirder, you know that?" Sandburg complained as he gingerly shrugged his jacket off one shoulder and started wriggling to free his other arm.

Jim pushed the door shut until it locked and absently reached out to help him. "So, you’re sure you’ve never seen the guy before? Not seen him hanging around the university, with Norman maybe...."

Blair glared up at him. "No. Look, I looked at the pictures for you, didn’t I? I gave you all the description I can, from every angle you can think of. I let Simon go over the same questions. If I was anyone else, I’d be able to shut the door on you," he said waspishly. "But, oh no, not you. You keep on and on poking away...."

Ellison blinked in surprise as Sandburg stalked away, bristling with indignation, and leaving Jim with his jacket in one hand. He hung it up automatically. "Take it easy," he soothed.

"Don’t patronise me!"

"Woah there, chief, I didn’t know I was!"

"Ah!" Sandburg waved an impatient hand at him as he started to pace. "You have no idea!!"

Jim cocked his head to one side, watching his friend and starting to get an inkling of how overwrought his partner was. He could hear the beat of his pulse picking up. "Sandburg..."

"What? You going to tell me to calm down now? Help me remember some more for you?"

"No, actually I was going to say you’re right and I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Blair was so startled he stopped pacing and gaped at him.

"I shouldn’t be hassling you. You’ve given us more than we had any right to expect. I've been pushing you too hard because I want this guy. It was a vicious killing and I want to stop him before he does it again."

"You think he might? You think he’s some kind of serial killer?" Sandburg gazed at him in wide eyed alarm.

"I don’t know. My instincts tell me the killer had some connection with Norman. I think the Professor was there to meet him. But we don't know why."

"So you need to find out who he associated with to find the killer?"

"It’d be a start."

Blair looked round vaguely and sank onto the arm of the couch. "I didn't know him that well," he said slowly. "In some weird way, I'm kind of glad about that now....Otherwise..."

"Don’t think about it," Jim warned as he came closer.

"I thought you wanted me to remember?" Sandburg looked up in surprise.

"Yeah. But I’d rather not have you freak out again."

"Hey, I'm cool with it...."

"No," Jim decided, gazing down into his friend’s expressive blue eyes. "You are not cool with it. You wouldn't be you if you were."

Blair managed a shaky half laugh. "Mr Tough and Macho, that’s me...."

"No, it isn’t," Jim said mildly. "If you were a carbon copy of me, I’d have shot you by now."

"Meaning I'm not tough?" Blair pouted at him, but there was a hint of steely annoyance underneath the words.

"Meaning, you’re tough in a different way. Er...." Jim groped for an explanation. "Ah, come on, chief, you know I'm no good at this stuff."

"What stuff?" Sandburg’s eyes widened innocently.

"All that mushy, let’s talk about our feelings stuff..." Ellison’s mockery of his friend’s voice made Blair suddenly explode into a giggle.

"You are so bad. I do so not sound like that!" he snorted as he slid to his feet. "I’m going to take a shower."

"Maybe you should take it easy....uh...."

"I need a shower, Jim," Blair said firmly.

"Okay, okay,....sir...." Ellison said hastily, grinning at him.

Sandburg grinned back and trotted off.

"But don’t lock the door!" Jim called after him, adding as Sandburg gave him an outraged glare. "Hey, I don't want to have to pay for a replacement if you keel over and I have to kick it in...."

"Gee, nice to know you care."

"Whatever. I’ll start fixing those steaks...."

* * *

Opening his eyes, Jim gazed silently into the darkness, his awareness expanding outwards like black silk ripples through the pool of night. He could hear the sounds of Cascade, the muted rush of the traffic beyond the windows, footsteps on the sidewalk, the blare of music from a club....

Tuning out the outer noises, Jim drew back into himself, settling into the loft and the familiar sounds within. The faint creak of floorboards settling, the faint movement of air like the breath of the building...

Blair’s breathing downstairs in his bedroom....

He had missed that the night before. More than worry over his friend had kept him awake. He was tuned to the sound of Sandburg’s presence and felt....bereft when he wasn't there.

He rolled over in bed, comforting himself with the sound of Sandburg’s quickening breathing....

Quickening...

The urgent beat of a pulse....

The rustle of sheets and murmur of blankets....

Sliding out of bed, Jim yanked on a robe over his shorts and headed downstairs, focusing his senses on Sandburg as he moved through the moonlit darkness of the apartment.

The glass doors were half open, letting Jim peek through the crack without actually intruding.

Blair was still in bed, apparently caught in a restless sleep. He turned over as Jim looked in, flailing wildly with his good arm....

His pulse thudded and Jim felt his own respond, quickening with concern....

Pushing the door back, he slid inside and padded over to lean over the bed and touch a gentle hand to Sandburg’s bare shoulder.

"Hey, chief?" he called softly. "Sandburg....."

Blair’s eyes snapped open; looking past him into some nightmare world only he could see.

"Blair?" Ellison shook him gently, mindful of his sore arm. "Look at me, chief....."

Life suddenly flowed back into Sandburg’s eyes and he half focused on Ellison’s moonlit features.

"He shouldn’t have taken it," he said quietly. "They’re not going to let it go...."

"Who shouldn’t have taken what?" Jim pressed.

"They’ll get it back."

"Who will?"

"They’ll kill to get the box back...They did it before...."

"Who will? Chief?"

Sandburg however didn't answer, but rolled over and snuggled back into his pillow. His pulse was starting slow back to normal and as Jim stood over him, watching him in confusion, Blair slid back into sleep.

Totally baffled, Jim retreated, uncertain whether he had been listening to wild ramblings born of a nightmare or some disjointed memory struggling to surface. He reached to ease the door to and nearly jumped out of his skin as Sandburg bolted upright with a panic stricken yell that shattered Jim’s nerves and made his enhanced hearing ring.

Sandburg was scrabbling for the boomerang he kept on the bookshelf as Jim reached for the light switch.

"It’s me, idiot!" Ellison exclaimed, almost able to feel the terrified thud of Blair's pulse on his skin. "And put the damn boomerang down before you hurt someone....namely me!"

"Jim?"

"You got another flat mate I don’t know about?"

"Jim...." Blair confirmed it with a weak laugh and let the boomerang slide from his nerveless fingers. "Oh man, I thought....There was an Aztec warrior coming at me waving a machete and screaming he was going to cut me to pieces! Then I woke up and there you were...."

"I look like an Aztec warrior?"

"No, no, only it seemed so real...."

"It’s good thing you don't keep a gun under your pillow otherwise you’d be calling Simon about now...."

Sandburg ran a shaky hand down his face and ruffled his hair, amazed to feel it damp with perspiration. "I'm sorry....Did I wake you?"

Ellison hesitated on the verge of a sarcastic retort and then sighed. "I came down to check on you," he admitted. "I thought you were having a nightmare. You remember what you were dreaming about?"

"The Aztec warrior..."

"Before that...."

"No...." Sandburg gave him a dubious look.

Ellison repeated what he had said.

"That doesn’t make any sense. What box? Who shouldn’t have taken it and who wants it back?"

"I guess it was a dream," Jim decided as Blair frowned at him in bewilderment.

Sandburg nodded slowly. "My subconscious sorting things out probably. Guess it doesn’t mean anything. I'm sorry I woke you, Jim."

"Forget it, chief. If you’ll excuse the expression...."

Blair smiled automatically but there was a troubled expression in his eyes.

Jim hesitated. "I was going to make some hot chocolate since I’m awake. You want some?"

"Uh, I'm really tired. I should get some sleep...."

Ellison looked at his haunted expression and smiled faintly. Like Blair was going to get back to sleep any time soon! "Come and keep me company for ten minutes while I make it then come back to bed. You need to relax...."

* * *

Blair stirred, reluctantly registering that he had a stiff neck. Prying his eyes open, he blinked fuzzily around until he could focus. It was a long moment before it dawned on him that he was curled up on the couch rather than in his own bed and that he could smell bacon frying.

Pushing aside the blanket that had been put over him, Sandburg sat up and peered groggily over the back of the couch into the kitchen.

"Morning, chief," Ellison greeted him mildly as he finished pouring a mug of coffee and brought it over to his partner. "Feel better?"

"Uh, how’d I get here?"

"You fell asleep last night, remember? You had a nightmare...."

"Oh....yeah...." Blair peered doubtfully at his reflection in his coffee mug and looked up at Jim again. "Sorry...."

"No problem. I tucked you in and went back to bed. You want breakfast? Bacon and eggs and fried bread?"

"It isn’t good for you..."

"If you want your green thing you can mix it yourself...."

"But on this occasion I have the sudden urge for grease." Shoving off his blanket, Blair sat up and took a cautious mouthful of his coffee. "I guess I’d better go by the university and see what I can find out about Norman for you."

"Simon’s already getting that checked. It’s standard footslog stuff."

"But doesn’t it seem odd to you that the shipping records have gone missing? Maybe he sent something back. Hey, maybe it was drugs!"

"Simon’s checking the shipping schedules too."

Sandburg gave him a puzzled frown. "Then how come you’re hanging around me? Shouldn’t you be doing some of the foot slog?"

"Well, uh, Simon wants me to hang around and see if you remember anything else...." Jim was not about to let on that they considered Blair an endangered species for the moment. Until they at least had some idea of who the killer was, he didn't want to let his partner out of his sight.

Blair gazed at him in silent suspicion, convinced Ellison was up to something. He had known Jim long enough to know when he was uncomfortable about something. "You know more than you’re saying," he guessed. "Am I a suspect?"

"Suspect? You?! Don't be ridiculous."

"Then why...." Sandburg’s frown deepened. "You think I'm involved? You think he was smuggling something in and I know about it?"

"Sandburg, you are talking bull. Now get over here and eat your breakfast before it congeals."

Sighing in a long suffering way, Sandburg levered himself stiffly to his feet and padded over to the table. He still wasn’t convinced, Jim was telling him the truth, but at least he was fairly sure Ellison trusted him too much to consider he was involved. Settling in at the table, he missed the worried look Ellison gave him as Jim started to dish up the food. "So what’s our next move then?" he wanted to know.

"I want you to go over the mug shots."

"Again? Come on, man, I've already looked at them once. What’s the point?"

"Time."

"Huh?"

"You’ve started to remember bits and pieces of what happened now. The mug shots may prompt something more."

Sandburg shuddered. "Oh yeah, like a few more nightmares maybe? I so don’t need that."

"Neither do I," Jim snorted. "But we need something to go on. So far Forensics has come up with zilch."

"Maybe you should have taken a look."

"I've been busy," Ellison replied dryly. "The only thing I've come up with so far is a weird smell. Like some kind of spice...."

"At the uh murder scene?"

Jim opened his mouth to say no, at the loft, then thought better of it. "Yes...." he said slowly. After all, he had smelt it at the lecture theatre too.

"Machetes and spice? Could be South American? I know a couple of places we could check out that sell herbs and spices...Maybe you could pick up on what it was?"

"What am I? A pet bloodhound?"

"I only thought it’d help...." Sandburg pouted.

"I know, I know and I appreciate it, chief. But the pictures would help too...."

Blair sighed and surrendered, overruled and too tired to argue. "Okay, okay, I waste my time looking at pictures."

"And you can give me the names of these spice places and I’ll go and do something sleuthing like a good little bloodhound...."

* * *

Three hours of going from store to store and sniffing herbs and spices until his nose felt like it was exploding had not put Ellison in a good mood. Arriving back at the office to find that Sandburg – who he had left under Rudy’s watchful eye to look at the mug shots – was missing did not improve his temper. After bawling Rudy out and discovering that Blair had sneaked out to go to Ranier, he drove over to give his partner a piece of his mind only to find that Sandburg wasn't in his office. Eventually, Jim managed to track him down in the labyrinthine passages beneath the university where all those mysterious things happened that kept the building running and went ignored by the faculty.

The first thing Jim saw as he eased through the door was his partner with his back to him confronting the shadowy shape of a figure holding a machete. He felt a cold shiver run through him like a needle running the length of his body.

A low animal snarl rose up from within him as Ellison drew his gun and slammed through the door, drawing down on the startled occupants of the room.

Blair goggled at him wide eyed as the mousy haired woman with him let out a startled squeak of terror and froze, her fingers clamping white knuckled on the hilt of the machete.

"It’s all right, Ellie. Remember when confronting a wild animal one should remain quiet and calm...." Sandburg finally managed to find his voice and his sarcasm. "Jim, put the gun down...." he added soothingly.

Ellison glared at Ellie over the barrel of his gun. "When she puts the machete down," he growled back.

"Oh for..." Sandburg snapped in exasperation.

Ellie let out another squeak and dropped the machete from gloved fingers. It narrowly missed Blair’s sneaker clad toes as he hastily hopped aside. "I'm sorry! Don't shoot!" she stammered, raising her hands high.

"Quit it with the macho cop stuff, Jim! You’re scaring her!" Sandburg demanded.

"I'm scaring her? I come in here and see her waving a machete around...."

Sandburg ignored him. "Ellie, this is Jim Ellison, the guy I was telling you about. He isn’t usually this much of a jerk, but every now and then...."

Scowling at him, Jim gave in and lowered the gun. He couldn’t see how this mousy woman in her jeans and T shirt could pose much of a threat when he took a good look at her. But when he had seen the machete all common sense had vanished. All he could think of was that she was threatening his partner...

"Jim?" Sandburg was giving him a questioning look and Ellison realised he had been talking to him. He switched on a smile.

"Sorry?"

Sandburg sighed heavily and gave him an expectant look. "Eleanor Cook, Jim Ellison."

"I apologise, Miss Cook," Ellison said quickly, taking the prompt. "I'm not such a wild animal as I pretend to be." To his astonishment, Ellie responded with a smile that turned a nice face into a stunningly attractive one and made her brown eyes sparkle.

"That’s Mrs. But I can see why the machete would startle you," she said mildly. "I found it a few minutes ago."

"Found it?" Jim queried, tensing.

"Yes. It’s quite odd. There was a break in last night. Nothing taken as far as I can tell. But the office was ransacked and someone attempted to break into the lock up. A security guard interrupted him and there was a fight. His partner turned up in time and ran whoever it was off. I found this under one of the crates a little while ago."

Ellison took a sharp look around him, taking in the number of crates in various stages of unpacking. "Anything missing here?"

"No. Look, this was all reported...." Ellie looked at Blair with a frown. So did Ellison.

"Did you know about this?"

Sandburg gave him an innocent look. "Rudy had a file I might have read," he murmured. "There was a Forensics team down here first thing. And I wouldn’t be here if Ellie hadn’t called me."

Ellison resisted the urge to yell at him. "You were supposed to stay put," he growled with deliberate calm.

"Why?"

"I told you...."

"I looked at the mug shots. Nothing rang any bells. I wasn't getting anywhere. And I do have a life outside cop stuff, remember? Besides this is kind of connected...."

"You were still supposed to stay put!"

Sandburg glared at him. "Sheesh, Jim, I'm not a kid! Why should I....." He paused, staring up at Ellison with dawning suspicion in his eyes. "Oh man, am I slow or what?" he groaned.

Jim fought down the urge to swear. "There’s no need to get rattled...."

"No? You think the killer’s after me and you didn’t think it was worth telling me?!"

"You’ve been kind of shaky, chief. I didn't want to upset you...."

"Upset me? Now why would the idea of me having some crazed psychotic killer after me and me not knowing about it, upset me?!"

Jim winced as Sandburg’s voice lifted, feeling the emotional harmonics slice into his hearing. "Take it easy...."

"Take it easy?!!"

"Blair, stop it," Ellie caught Sandburg’s arm and gave him a firm shake. "Sit down and be quiet. I'm sure he only meant it for the best."

"Et tu?" Blair gave her a betrayed look that won him a reassuring smile.

"I get the distinct impression that you have your friend worried," she told him mildly as she steered him over to sit on the edge of a packing crate. "Do you think you’d be worried if you thought someone was after him?" She glanced up at Ellison. "No wonder you over reacted when you saw the machete...."

Jim grimaced. He didn't think he had had over reacted. If she had been the killer...

Sandburg groaned and put his head in his hands, reminding Jim that he wasn't wearing his sling. Jim eyed him warily and then carefully turned his attention to Ellie. "You called him?" he questioned.

Mrs Cook inclined her head. "After the confusion of the break in, I had some checking to do. That’s when I realised we still had a shipment in the lock up for Blair."

"And it was so urgent you couldn’t wait for me to come back?" Jim asked his partner sardonically.

"Maybe if you’d mentioned I needed an armed guard I might have done."

"Touché," murmured Ellie sweetly.

Ellison glared at Sandburg. "What is this shipment anyway?"

"I don't know. We were talking about the break in and then Ellie found the machete. I guess.....it could be the murder weapon...." Sandburg looked at the weapon uneasily where it lay on the floor between them.

Ellie made a small sound and sat down on the crate with Blair. "I never thought of that," she said shakily.

"You’re wearing gloves," Jim pointed out dryly, eyeing the weapon and with his enhanced vision noting the tiny darks flecks around the hilt that could be blood.

"Huh? Oh yes, for handling artefacts. That’s what we were doing, listing new arrivals and making sure nothing had been damaged, when I saw the glint....I didn’t think. I fished it out to see what it was and showed it to Blair...."

Sandburg nodded. "I'm sorry, Jim. I never thought about fingerprints...."

"You should know by now...."

"Don't be mean," Ellie scolded however, startling Ellison with the interruption. "I was the one who picked it up. And I don’t think Blair is quite.....himself."

Ellison scowled at her but Ellie glared back, unfazed by his disapproval. After a second, Jim found his eyes sliding away from hers to rest on his partner. Now he thought about it, Sandburg was looking kind of grey and there were shadows under his eyes. "Okay," he said carefully. "We’ll see what Forensics can turn up. Sandburg, do you want to find out about this shipment now or can it wait? I think I should take you home."

Blair lifted his head to give him a slightly unsteady look and then clearly made the effort to focus. "Let me take a look first and I’ll let you know."

Jim sighed. But he had known Sandburg long enough to know when he was going to be stubborn. Ellie slid to her feet and produced the keys from her jacket that was hanging on the back of the door.

"It isn’t a very big crate," she explained as he unlocked the door. "It arrived late and kind of got shoved in, in a hurry. There was a mess up on the forms which didn't help...." As she swung the heavy door open, Jim lifted his head and sniffed, then took a deeper inhalation.

"Jim?" Sandburg looked up at him questioningly.

"It’s that scent again. Only stronger...."

Blair sniffed curiously. "Yeah, I smell it...." he admitted.

"This is it," Ellie patted a wooden packing crate and looked at them expectantly. "You can lift it yourselves."

Jim prowled over, leaning over the packing crate to sniff. Beneath the scent of cheap wood and sawdust, he could smell the bitter tang of the spicy scent. It was even stronger here and he took the crowbar out of Sandburg’s hands without thinking, applying it to the end of the lid with brute strength.

"Hey, don't damage the contents," Blair protested as the wood splintered to pressure of the crowbar. Ellison ignored him, prying off the lid in a spray of cracking splintering wood. The crate was packed tight with wood shavings and flecks of dried leaves. Scooping up a handful, Jim sniffed and flinched, his eyes watering.

"What is this stuff?" he demanded, waving the leaf fragments at Blair.

"Uh...." Blair shrugged.

"We call it Stone or Blood Leaf," Ellie said mildly. "The plant’s found growing at several of the ruined Aztec sites. According to the tales it’s thickest where most blood was spilled. It’s very good at preserving wood from damp and metals from corrosion."

Sandburg looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then gazed up at Jim. "Stone leaf was used in rituals. Cut with other herbs, it can be used as a soporific. It’s a hallucinogen when chewed in the raw state."

"I so don't want to know you’ve tested it."

Blair shook his head gingerly. "Not after what I’ve heard about it," he said with a shudder. "I heard that there’s a modern day Aztec Cult called the Kindred behind a series of ritual killings down in Mexico that uses the stuff. They dope the victim and then drug themselves with the leaf in a mixture of the sacrificial blood."

"And hack their victims to pieces in a frenzy by any chance?"

"Uh....according to some reports....the victims were....dismembered....." Blair's eyes widened in horror. "You think....?"

"I don't believe in coincidences." Ellison answered grimly and turned back to root through the packing crate. Beneath the wood chippings was a box about eighteen inches long, it was wrapped in plastic.

Lifting it out onto another handy crate, he could hear something sliding inside. Jim fished out his penknife and slit open the wrappings, peeling them back like a banana skin. The surface appeared to be of some kind of oddly coloured leather that he was oddly reluctant to touch, but he could tell from the weight that the box itself was made of stone. The lid was a simple flat slab that sat on the top with the leather apparently moulded to the symbols carved into the stone beneath.

"Aren’t you going to open it?" Blair prompted as he peered curiously over his arm.

"Archeologically speaking, am I even supposed to touch it?"

Sandburg shrugged. "It’s certainly not been in the ground recently. I doubt if it’ll do any harm to look and I want to see what’s inside...."

As Sandburg reached for the lid, Jim caught his wrist, keeping the warm human contact as he stared hard at the box and its leathery covering. He felt the flicker at the back of his eyes as his senses focused, zooming in on the leather; down to the flesh and blood and bone of the box....

His soft curse made Blair look at him in surprise and cup his hand over his partner’s. "Jim? What is it?"

"Human skin," Ellison answered, feeling a sudden surge of nausea and a spark of gratitude that his instincts had kept him from touching the box itself. From the expression on Blair's face he felt it too.

"W’what?" Wide eyed, Blair stared at the box.

"It’s covered in human skin....."

"That’s unusual, but not unheard of," Ellie commented. "The Aztecs did flay their enemies. Ancient English myths claim that Vikings were flayed and their skins nailed....." She paused, aware of the way Ellison was staring at her. "Too graphic?" she wondered dryly.

"I think Jim thinks this is a little more recent," Blair said faintly.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ellie sniffed. "No one would be twisted enough to do it now."

"Tanned human skin makes leather the same as any other animal. Not as strong perhaps, but useable," Sandburg responded, fighting down his emotional reaction to let the scientist take over.

"And old leather will crack," Ellison pointed out darkly. "This is to....supple to be old."

"Perhaps it’s been oiled and treated," Ellie said faintly.

"Or perhaps Blair's Aztec Cult is a little more blood thirsty than he thought."

"They’re not my cult," Sandburg protested indignantly. "I only heard about it. It was on one of your bulletins. It caught my attention is all...."

Jim smiled and patted his shoulder. "Ellie, do you know where this crate came from?"

"Well, like I said the forms are all messed up but it was somewhere in Mexico. And the only person we had down there recently was Professor Norman, so I suppose....."

* * *

"Have you gone nuts? Aztec blood sacrifice? Cults? Jim, I think you’ve been spending too much time with Sandburg...." Banks’ eyebrows had climbed so far up his forehead it looked as if they were escaping from his glasses.

"But it makes sense, Captain," Blair protested from his perch on Jim's desk. He was wearing his sling again, since Ellison had bullied him into it. "If Norman was down in Mexico and bought the box as a genuine Aztec artefact, the cult members would want to get it back. They could have followed him up here and killed him to get it back."

Banks gave him an exasperated, long suffering look. "So now we have feather wearing Aztecs running around Cascade armed with machetes?"

"Uh, we have the machete that could be the murder weapon," Jim pointed out. "I’ve got it and the box in Forensics. I asked for a DNA test to see what they could come up with. Whoever’s skin is on that box is probably listed as a missing person. I've also got a request in with the Mexican authorities for more information on this cult."

Banks pursed his mobile lips, studying the pair of them. Since Sandburg had joined the team, the improbable had seemed to become more and more probably. After all, who would have thought he’d have practically a superhero under his command? "All right," he said wearily. "I'm being hounded for answers on this Norman thing. The murder was too sensational for it not to get out." He gave Sandburg a chilly look.

"Hey, don't look at me," Sandburg spread one hand in a defensive gesture. "I've had Jim stuck to my side like glue."

Banks sighed. "I know, I know. It was probably someone from the university’s Security. We’re keeping the details quiet, but I need something to feed the sharks...."

"I don’t think telling them this would be a good idea" Ellison warned.

"I'm hardly likely to do that. It’d cause a panic if Cascade was to think we’ve got a serial Aztec killer running around loose."

Ellison ducked his head to conceal a smile at Simon’s irritated tone. "If the Mexican authorities come up with any names, we may be able to find a suspect. At least it’ll be more than we have so far." He glanced at Sandburg as Blair unconsciously shifted on his perch and hugged his arm. Banks followed his gaze.

"Sandburg, do you think Norman was involved in this cult?"

"Involved?" Blair echoed blankly.

"He shipped the box back here to you. He must have got it from somewhere."

"Well, duh...."

"Sandburg...." Banks rumbled in warning as Ellison winced.

"Captain, I don’t know! I didn’t even know he had shipped the box to me until Ellie said so. How should I know where he got it from? I'm only guessing that he bought it. Maybe he took it out of a tomb. Maybe he wandered into a cult site and thought it was abandoned. I have no idea!"

Banks’ eyebrows did another climb as he eyed the anthropologist and then gave Ellison a meaningful look.

"Take it easy, chief," Jim said soothingly.

"Don’t start that again, Jim! I'm perfectly calm."

Ellison rubbed the back of his neck and rose to his feet. "Why don’t we go and get a bite to eat and a coffee?" he suggested mildly.

Sandburg opened his mouth to yell, then changed his mind and slumped. "Man, I am wired," he muttered.

Banks eyed his ‘kicked puppy’ expression and rather hesitantly patted his shoulder. "A little hyper maybe. Go home and get some rest. There’s nothing more you can do here."

"Hurry up and wait huh?" Blair said with a weak smile as he slid to his feet.

"Something like that. Go on, get out of here."

Watching Banks stride back towards his office, Blair looked up at his partner. "He took that well."

"He’s worried this guy’s going to kill again."

"It’s not likely though, is it?" Sandburg argued as he let Ellison steer him towards the door. "Norman had the box. The killer wanted it back. Simple."

"Except that the killer doesn’t have the box. We do," Jim reminded him dryly. "And the killer doesn’t know where the box is. On the other hand, he knows who you are and where he can find you. It’s also likely that he’s the one who broke into your office and took the shipping schedules, which probably told him Norman shipped the box to you. So he breaks into the store rooms, but can’t find what he wants before he’s disturbed."

"So he’ll go back to the university?" Blair suggested with the worried air of a rabbit spotting a snake lurking before its burrow.

"Hopefully, yeah. We’ve got the place staked out."

"You said that with a but in your voice," Sandburg said anxiously.

"That’s because going back there would be a very dumb move and somehow I don’t think this guy is that dumb."

"What do you think he’s going to do?" Blair pressed.

Jim laid a careful arm across his friend’s shoulders. "Well, chief, if I was him I’d be figuring out a way to get hold of you. Which is why the loft’s going to be staked out and I'm going to be sticking to you like Velcro."

"Is that supposed to make me feel safe?" Blair squeaked.

"It should keep you on your toes," Jim said dryly. "Look, I don’t expect you to stay at the loft. I’ll put you in a safe house with a couple of the guys to guard you."

"And you’ll stay at the loft to spring the trap?"

"Got it in one."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I'm not letting you do it. It’s me he wants. Not you."

"He’s probably got used to seeing me hovering over you. He’ll think..."

"No!" Blair swallowed, looking pale under his tan. "I can’t let you do it. If he gets suspicious, we’ll never catch him. I have to be there."

Ellison hesitated. Logically he knew Sandburg was right, but the part of him that was the protector and the worried friend, really wanted Blair on the other side of city in a steel lined vault with an entire army to protect him. He could tell it wasn't going to happen though. Let Sandburg think he was being mollycoddled or patronised and he’d be off and running before Jim could stop him. "Okay, okay. Have it your way. But no taking dumb risks."

"Me?" Sandburg spluttered. "As if I would!"

"Yeah, you. You do what I say."

"Don’t I always?"

Jim laughed. "If only!"

* * *

"The contents were a knife made of obsidian; some eight inches long with a carved jade handle inset with a gold inlay....They’re keeping that for more tests. There were blood flecks caught in the carving...." Jim read aloud from the Forensic report as he sprawled in his chair with a coffee mug in one hand. "A quantity of leaves, identified as Blood or Stone Leaf used as packing; that’d be what I could smell. More tests there but we know it’s hallucinogenic." He paused, looking across at Sandburg’s distracted expression "Are you listening?"

"It’s looking at me."

"What?"

Blair was curled up on the couch, staring at the box as it sat on the polished wood of the coffee table between them. Simon had decided that the trap needed extra bait and had told Ellison to take the thing home with him. Blair hadn’t been the only one to be unhappy about the idea. Jim didn't want the horrible thing in his home, the human skin covering was bad enough, but the connotations turned his stomach.

"I said, the box is looking at me," Blair said uneasily.

"Then don't look at it."

"I can’t help it. It’s like it wants me to look at it. I keep looking away but I can feel it staring at me and I have to look back to make sure it isn’t creeping up on me."

"That’s crazy."

Sandburg shuddered. "I know, but I can’t help it. I mean, a box can’t be evil, right? But that thing is....steeped in it."

"I thought you said the Aztecs weren’t evil," Jim reminded him patiently. "A cultured, intelligent and powerful people you said...."

"And prone to cutting people up in the name of religion."

"Worse has been done in the name of religion."

"Oh yeah, name one?"

"Burning people at the stake," Jim answered.

Blair stared at him, uncomfortably aware that their roles had somehow been reversed. "Shouldn’t that be my line?"

Jim grinned at him rueful understanding. "People have been doing terrible things to other people since there were people," he pointed out. "That’s why I do what I do, chief."

"I suppose." Sandburg gave the box another hard stare. "It was the priests fault."

"It usually is."

"They demanded the sacrifices. They believed it was the right thing to do. But these Kindred cultists..." Blair shuddered and gave Jim a plaintive look. "Do you think they really believe it’s the right thing to do?"

"I think," Jim said slowly, looking at the faxed reports from Mexico that he had been studying along with the Forensics. "That most of them believed it was a way to obtain power and money and to gain control through fear. A cult is only another form of a gang. The people running it were the equivalent of the Aztec priests and got their kicks through intimidation. The murders served several purposes. One, fear of being the next victim. Two, control over anyone who might betray them or refused to cooperate. Three, they fulfilled some twisted sense of control by killing and mutilating their victims."

"Serial killer mentality...." Sandburg murmured. "Being able to kill and blame it on someone else, pretending they weren’t really responsible...." He paused, frowning across at Jim. "You said were?"

Ellison tapped the faxed reports. "According to this, the Mexican authorities rounded up the last but one member of the cult two weeks ago."

"Two weeks?" Blair echoed, frowning, "But the box...."

"The cult used several meeting places and had obtained a number of valuable Aztec artefacts, presumably using Cult money to get them. A couple of the men involved were known antiquities collectors. According to the Mexicans, the last victim of the Cult was an antiquities dealer called Perez who sold a certain Aztec stone box to one Professor Norman. They think he was holding the box for the Cult, when Norman offered him a deal. He was apparently tortured before being hacked to pieces. So he presumably told them about Norman."

Blair’s blue eyes widened. "And one of them came to Cascade to find him and get the box back?"

Ellison nodded grimly. "The missing Kindred member, one Jose Lopez, wanted for murder, assault, robbery, you name it, this guy’s done it. The DNA on the machete matches his and the machete is apparently his favourite weapon. The bloods flecks match that of Professor Norman, so it was the murder weapon."

"But...."

"But?" Jim gave him a questioning look.

"The skin on the box, where did that come from?"

Ellison grimaced. "According to Forensics, it belonged to a man called Ramirez; the investigator the Mexican’s put in on the inside of the Kindred. He disappeared, until now they were only guessing he’d been killed. The first results on the knife indicate that the blood flecks on the knife are a match for the skin. Forensics are hoping for more. But presumably that’s why Lopez wants it back. It’s proof...."

"That’s horrible." Wrapping one arm over his sling, Blair hugged himself and shivered. "It’s one thing to know the Aztecs did this kind of thing, but to know it’s happening now..."

"Don’t worry, kid," Jim said gently. "We know who this guy is now, his description’s gone out and he’ll be picked up before you know it. He’s not going to get near you."

Sandburg gazed at him thoughtfully for a long moment and then looked at the box. "Having that sitting on the coffee table, knowing part of it was someone.....it seems wrong somehow. Not respectful...."

"You don't get so squeamish over bones."

"That’s different. That’s anthropology when they’re old. Besides, I prefer live research...studying living, evolving cultures and people....Can we put a cloth over it or something?"

"Very respectful. I thought you wanted to study the carvings..."

Sandburg shook his head, curls tossing violently. "No way, not now."

"Okay. I’ll cover it up." Ellison frowned at him, aware of the unsettled thump of his friend’s pulse. Blair was definitely scared and he looked tired. "But we’re not going to learn anything else tonight. Why don’t we both turn in, chief?" he suggested calmly. "It’s getting late."

"I can’t see as those can make comfortable bed time reading," Blair muttered, waving at the reports.

"You learn to switch off," Jim answered as he pushed to his feet, gathering up the sheaf of papers and stuffing them back into the cardboard file. He intended to take them to his room with him, not wanting Sandburg to look them over. Normally, Jim was happy enough to let him read any reports, trusting his discretion, but Sandburg didn't need any graphic details about skinning methods to go to bed on. "Come on, let me help you get out of that sling so you can turn in...."

* * *

As Blair watched in the darkness the shadow shrouded box stirred, the light covering Jim had tossed across it sliding from its stone surface. An ugly light glimmered across the surface, twisting among the carvings as the skin that covered them writhed in agony. A face grew out of the carvings, contorting into a mouth that stretched wide on a soundless scream of terror and pain that sliced at the nerves, ripping them raw with its blood filled edges....

Terrified, Blair retreated, backing against the wall as the mouth opened wider and wider on thread like ribbons of bloodied mist that billowed up from the agonised rictus of the lips. Writhing in the air the mist slowly took on shape and form and substance, the figure of an Aztec warrior materializing slowly out of shreds of darkness and shadow. From one hand, a blade grew, shimming with an evil red light as the warrior lifted it before its glowing red eyes, inspecting the weapon before it turned towards Blair.

Sandburg jerked, started to run and found his feet glued down by mud and leaf mould, by roots that wound up out of the wooden floorboards and twined around his ankles. Behind him the wall turned to stone and the world fell away until he stood alone but for the Aztec and the box inside a circle of torch lit darkness.

The Aztec walked towards him and where he stepped, stone rippled out from his feet, vast stone walls grew up around them. The warrior gestured and invisible hands seized Sandburg yanked him backwards across a square stone block carved with the same symbols as the skin bound box....

Stretched out on his back with his arms and legs stretched taut, Blair opened his mouth to scream and found his tongue strangled in his throat.

Standing over him, the Aztec stared down at him with eyes of blood red and raised the machete....

It fell, chopping through skin and flesh and bone as blood spurted, severing ankle from leg, wrist from arm....

Skin peeled back from his living flesh, peeled back by the obsidian edge of a black bladed knife....

Blair screamed in endless agony....

And woke on the floor of his own room, too tangled in his own blankets to move.

Gasping for breath and choking down the whimpers of terror, Blair clawed his way out of the blankets and leaned back against the bed, hugging himself in a desperate effort to stop himself shaking and chewing on the back of one knuckle to keep himself quiet so that the box and the ghostly warrior couldn’t hear him...

Understanding surfaced slowly, fighting past the layers of panic as he gradually woke up properly and realised where he was....

Shaking like a leaf, Sandburg shook off his blanket and got up, pulling on his robe for warmth before he eased towards the door and tugged it open. Peeking out of the crack, he peered towards the coffee table and the shrouded shape of the box. It wasn't moving.

Telling himself not to be silly, Blair slipped out of his bedroom and padded across to stare down at it.

No, it definitely wasn’t moving.

On the other hand, he wasn't going to touch it to make sure.

Shrugging, Sandburg took a deep breath and turned to go back to his own room. It was the remembered terror of his nightmare that made duck instinctively as he glimpsed the shadowy shape behind him and the swish of the machete going through the air above his head made him yell in terror as he hit the floor and rolled, leaping back to his feet and racing for the stairs....

He half fell up the last step, hearing the warrior pacing methodically behind him, machete dripping blood from its long blade....

"Jim!" Panic stricken, Blair flung himself at the bed, unable to figure out why Ellison hadn’t heard all the noise and come to his rescue....

Ellison lay on his back on the bed, the mattress and pillows soaked with his blood that still gushed from his severed neck. And his head sat neatly propped on the bedside table, staring at Blair with sightless accusing eyes....

"Sandburg!" Grabbing Sandburg by the shoulders, Ellison shook his friend hard, yanking him out of whatever nightmare and his pulse hammering like a racehorse. He could feel his skin burning under his hands, blazing like a cooker hot plate.

"Blair?!"

Sandburg came awake with a gasp and a gurgle, grabbing at Ellison with a cry that was perilously close to being a scream. A second later he collapsed into Jim's startled arms, sobbing in something close to hysteria.

"Hey chief, take it easy!" Jim protested worriedly as he attempted to hold onto him and check his temperature at the same time. Blair gurgled at him incoherently, something about the box and machetes and severed heads, none of which made any sense to Ellison at all.

The soft grating sound penetrated Jim’s hearing, tugging at his instincts. Automatically clamping one hand over Sandburg’s mouth, he froze, straining to hear.

The murmur of the door, the whisper of a footstep...

Blair's eyes were huge over his hand, disturbed pools of terror, but he was focused on Jim as if he was a lifeline and his sobs had stopped....

Ellison tugged at him without thinking, pulling him to the floor and pressing his lips to his ear. "Stay down and keep quiet, chief. Understand....?" he whispered and got a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

Squeezing Blair's shoulder, Ellison eased towards the door he had left half open and peered out into the main room of the loft. At the back of his thoughts, he was kicking himself for not bringing his gun with him when he came to check on his partner.

There was someone in the apartment, dressed in dark clothes....

Jim's cat like vision was already adjusted to the dim light and he assessed the man carefully; tall, broad shouldered and muscular, but moving with the grace of a skilled fighter. As he watched the man, tugged aside the cover over the box and gazed down at it, then rested one hand lightly on the lid in a nauseatingly loving caress. He started to pick it up and Jim moved, darting towards him....

He was halfway there when the man heard him and turned, a glimmer of silver in his hand as he drew a knife.

Jim dived for the floor, heard it whisk past like the buzz of a mosquito and heard the crack of shattering glass behind him. By then, Ellison was already moving, keeping low and lunging for the man’s legs.....

"Look out!" Blair yelled that from behind him but Jim was already committed. Even as he cannoned into the man’s legs, something crashed down on his head, splitting his temple and setting his senses ringing....

Bull like strength hurled him off to crash into the coffee table with bruising force and Jim grunted. Ignoring him, the intruder shoved him aside and lunged to his feet....

"Police officer...." Jim forced out groggily.

"You leave him alone! I’ve got a gun!" Jim heard Sandburg yell through the roaring in his ears. "I’ll shoot!" He sounded panicked enough to mean it and the intruder apparently shared Jim's opinion. He grabbed the box off the table and lunged, plunging through the open doorway as Sandburg turned the wobbling gun after him....

"Don’t shoot!" Swearing, Jim rolled dizzily onto his back and forced himself to his feet to totter to the door and peer out. The corridor was empty and Ellison leaned groggily against the door jamb, too dazed to pursue.

Blair appeared at his side, sliding under his arm to support him. Groggily noting the gun in his hand, Jim plucked it out of Sandburg’s fingers before he could shoot one of them in the foot. As he closed his fingers around it, he could tell it was the back up gun he kept in the kitchen.

"I think we need to do something about my memory, let alone yours, chief," he muttered in chagrin, then whipped the weapon up and aimed at the shadowy figure that suddenly emerged from the elevator.

"Woah there, Ellison! Take it easy!" Taggart protested, lifting both hands as Rudy peered warily around him.

"Where the hell were you? Someone got into the apartment!"

"We grabbed someone breaking in. Turned out it was some punk kid. Said he’d been hired to do it. We figured it was a distraction...."

"Damn right," Jim put a hand to his throbbing temple and looked down at Blair who he could feel vibrating with heat and fright against his side. "Lopez got the box."

"He was real?" Blair blurted.

Ellison raised an eyebrow at him and winced as it made his temple throb even more. "Oh yeah, he was real. What’d he hit me with?"

"A geode."

"A what?"

"A sort of rock..."

"We have rocks in the apartment?"

"I was using it as a paperweight."

"Oh...." Jim wasn't sure what to say to that. "Well, whatever. Taggert, get a call out on Lopez, maybe we can pick him up before he gets too far. That box is heavy and it’ll slow him down..."

* * *

Ellison pulled his head away from the paramedic who was examining his stone dented temple, focusing across the room where Banks was standing over Sandburg as he perched on the couch. Rudy hovered near by, looking as if he wanted to protest about the Captain’s belligerent attitude.

"Come on, Blair, think!" Banks demanded sharply. "Was it the same guy you saw at the murder scene or not?"

"I don’t know," Sandburg answered wearily. "It was dark. It all happened so fast and I was still....half asleep..."

Banks sighed in exasperation. "This guy got in here without either of you hearing anything. You can’t give me an ID....."

Sandburg gave him a pained look as Banks started to rant in frustration.

"Captain!" Ellison moved without thinking, homing in on his partner. The sharpness of his tone made Banks pause in mid tirade to look at him in surprise. "It isn’t Sandburg’s fault. I'm pretty sure it was Lopez."

"That doesn’t put him at the murder scene," Banks pointed out waspishly. "Damn it, Jim, it’s the middle of the night. I have better things to do...."

"So do I," Sandburg shot back at him suddenly, pushing shakily to his feet. "Like getting some sleep and not being attacked by mad Aztecs. Or yelled at by you....Damn...."

Ellison’s hand shot out to catch Blair under by one elbow as he swayed then he pressed a cool hand to Sandburg’s forehead as he studied his flushed face. He pushed him back to the couch.

"I think you’re running a temperature, chief," Jim fretted as the paramedic pushed him aside and took over.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, right." Jim gave the paramedic a questioning glance.

"How’s he doing?" Simon asked uncomfortably, realising he had been taking his frustration out on Blair.

The paramedic gave Banks a dirty look. "He needs some rest. From the looks of things, he shouldn’t even be out of bed. And yah, he does have a temperature. Yelling at him won’t help. You ever heard of delayed concussion?"

Banks’ mobile mouth twitched and he looked away, aware of the silence that had fallen over the apartment. Most of the crew called to the scene had finished up and left, only Taggart and Rudy remained and they were both ostentatiously looking the other way.

"I do not have delayed concussion," Blair said firmly. "I’d know."

"No, you wouldn't," Ellison snorted.

"What about you?" Blair shot back. "You’re the one who got clobbered."

"I've had worse playing football."

"I fell off a camel and had worse."

"What were you doing on a camel?" Ellison blurted in astonishment.

"Riding it before I fell off. Obviously."

"Er," Banks interrupted cautiously as they stared at each other. "We’d better get you two out of here to somewhere safe."

"Oh no, I'm not staying in one of your safe houses with the cockroaches."

"They do not have cockroaches," Banks snapped.

"The last one did."

"That was a stake out, not a safe house," Jim pointed out.

"Same difference," Blair said stubbornly, gingerly cradling his sore arm close. The paramedic edged closer and with a glance at Sandburg for permission, rolled back the sleeve of his T shirt to examine his upper arm.

Jim touched Banks’ arm and drew him aside. "Captain, you’re not going to get him to go if he doesn’t want to. We’re safe enough here."

"Oh? This character’s got in here twice. And this time he got away with a valuable box."

Ellison winced at the sarcastic reproof. "So he got what he wanted. He won’t be back now that he knows we’re armed and that I'm a police officer."

"He didn't get the knife," Banks reminded him grimly. "That’s worth a lot more than the box."

"Assuming he plans to sell it...."

"He’s on the run. What do you think?"

"I think Sandburg’s given us all he can for now. The less we pressure him the better."

"You mean the less I pressure him," Banks said sarcastically.

"You can get a little vehement...." Ellison said carefully, glancing back at the paramedic who was talking quietly to Sandburg. Jim caught a murmur about the stitches and started to tune in to hear the rest of the conversation properly.

"All right, have it your way. But this time I'm putting someone inside the apartment as well as outside," Banks decided. "There’s no telling what this Lopez guy might do if he’s crossed...."

* * *

"Jim!" Blair’s yell woke Ellison from a deep sleep. Bolting upright in bed, it took Jim a second to register that it was excitement filling Sandburg’s voice rather than panic and that it was still early. A moment later, Blair bounded up the steps into his bedroom. "I've remembered!"

"Joy," Ellison groaned, flopping back into his pillows and pulled up the blankets.

Sandburg grabbed the covers and dragged them down like a determined cat wanting breakfast. "Listen, remember that weird dream I had....about the Aztec....?"

"Last night’s one?"

Blair's smile wavered slightly then he pushed on. "No, you said I told you about someone taking the box and them wanting it back."

"What? You think you had a premonition?"

"No, I think I talked to Norman before the murder."

Ellison sat bolt upright again, this time awake. "Before the murder?" he said sharply.

Sandburg’s blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Yes, he came to see me. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about. But I remember there was a book..."

"A book...." Ellison sank back into his pillows.

"Yes, it’s important, Jim! I have to go and find it!"

"What? Now? Do you know what time it is?"

Sandburg shot a sheepish glance at the bedside clock. "Oh...." He retreated slightly, glancing back at the stairs where Rudy was leaning on the rail and watching them curiously. "Please, Jim?" he begged.

Ellison hesitated. Slender, dark eyed Rudy of the dancer’s hips and the karate chop like an outraged mule’s kick was probably the perfect bodyguard, but Jim wouldn’t feel Sandburg was safe unless he was the one doing the protecting. "Can we even get in at this time?"

"I can. It’s important. Unless you want me to go with Rudy on my own...."

Jim groaned. He knew perfectly well when he was being manipulated. The trouble was Blair was so darn good at it that even when he knew it, it didn't help. "Okay, okay. We’ll go. But go away."

"You’re not going to go back to sleep, are you?" Blair pressed suspiciously.

"With you bounding around like a demented kangaroo? Fat chance. Go make breakfast while I get dressed. I refuse to go anywhere without breakfast...."

* * *

"How’s your arm, chief?" Ellison asked as he directed his pick up truck into the parking lot at the university an hour or so later.

"Huh?"

"Your arm? You’re favouring it again."

Sandburg glanced self consciously at his arm, realising he was cradling it in the sling he had put on without being reminded. "Oh yeah, it’s kind of sore. Sorry, I was thinking..."

Jim frowned. "Still? I think maybe we should be getting it checked."

"It’s nothing. I've been using it too much is all There’s a space...."

"The entire lot’s empty, Sandburg," Jim pointed out dryly as he steered into a space and tuned off the ignition. He climbed out of the car, taking a careful look round to make sure they weren’t being watched. After a short fight with his safety belt, Blair slid after him and trotted towards the doors. Ellison leaped after him. "Stay close," he warmed sharply.

"Oh, come on. You don't think anything’s going to happen. You dumped Rudy and Taggart."

Jim grimaced. He could not accept the idea that he needed protection. Blair was one thing. He was about as safe as a cat with a rocking chair. But it offended Jim's pride to think he couldn’t protect him and offended his dignity to think Banks was putting him in the same boat. "They need some sleep," he muttered. "We’ll finish up here then swing by and pick up the next watch."

Sandburg slid a quick glance at him an impish smile lurking in his eyes. Either he had forgotten the nightmarish visions he had told Jim about last night while they were waiting for Banks or they weren’t bothering him. Personally Jim didn't feel comfortable with either solution. "Don’t like the babysitters, huh? Serves you right."

"No idea what you mean. And why does it serve me right??"

"Because I don’t like babysitters any more than you do. But I'm the one you always insist on wrapping in cotton wool like I'm incapable of looking after myself. I got along fine before I met you, you know."

"Sometimes I wonder how," Jim muttered, hovering over him as Blair unlocked the door.

"Might have had something to do with people not shooting at me on a regular basis," Sandburg sniffed.

Ellison glared at him. "Speaking of getting shot at, did you remember to call Security?"

Sandburg gave him a long suffering look. "Jim, do you know how often I come in early? Of course I called Security!" He stalked on ahead, leaving Ellison for once to hurry after him.

Negotiating the various corridors of the university apparently without thinking about it, Blair led the way to his lab and then offered Ellison his keys. Ellison raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? You don't want to check for crocodiles under the desk this time?" Blair asked innocently.

Grabbing the key, Ellison scowled at him and unlocked the door, pushing inside impatiently. Stepping over the threshold, he slammed to a halt and Blair bumped into his back with an indignant protest. "What’d you stop for?"

"Smell that? It’s those leaves again."

Blair shot a nervous look around him. "You think he’s been in here? What if...?"

"It’s faint, a couple of hours old maybe...." Jim eased Blair to one side and examined the lock, frowning at it suspiciously as he ran his sensitive fingertips over it. "Someone broke in....picked the lock..." He stared at Sandburg thoughtfully for a long moment. "You didn't have your keys in your rucksack, did you?"

Blair shook his head. "Jacket pocket," he answered.

"The same night as the Professor was murdered, someone broke into the loft. Someone took the shipping schedules from your office. Lopez has connected you with Norman. He must have come back here to look for the knife."

"Why would it be here?"

"It’s worth a lot of money on the antiquities market. Lopez probably thought you might be planning on selling it..."

"Hey!" Sandburg bristled in outrage.

"I know you wouldn’t even think of it, chief, but some would. Lopez would. Maybe Professor Norman...."

Sandburg went rigid, his expression tense with fury. "I don’t think...."

"From what I can gather about Professor Norman, he wasn't exactly as pure as the driven snow when it came to picking up artefacts. If he brought the box...."

"I'm sure he thought it was from a reputable source and had a provenance..."

"Provenances can be faked," Ellison said gently. "You said he talked to you before he was murdered?"

"Oh yeah," Blair looked round vaguely. "You really think Lopez was in here?" he asked hesitantly.

Jim caught the expression in his eyes and instinctively moved closer, realising that Blair's nightmare was neither forgotten or ignored, merely suppressed. "He isn’t here now. Can you remember what you and Norman talked about?"

Sandburg shuddered and nodded. "Mostly. It’s still kind of fuzzy. He’d been down to Mexico and acquired a few artefacts. Nothing very special. But he mentioned the Aztec box. I guess that’s why I dreamed about it. Something he said must have triggered something in my subconscious, made me connect it with the cult."

"You couldn’t have told me that at the loft?" Sandburg looked at him blankly, his eyes dark with memories. "Never mind," Jim said easily. "Why’d you want to come here?"

"Oh yeah..." Sandburg looked around him again. "It was weird....The professor was in here when I came from a lecture. He was standing um....over here...." Blair moved over to the book shelf and stared at it. "Yeah, about here....I didn’t think anything about it. He started telling me about Mexico and how he’d found some pieces to bring back that he thought I might be interested in....I check out any South American finds because of you, Jim...."

"Did he tell you about the box?"

Blair frowned, struggling with his errant memory. "He mentioned it," he repeated slowly. "Said he’d brought it from someone he’d used before. I think something was bothering him. He seemed nervous."

"Wouldn’t you with a gang of Aztec assassins on your tail?" Jim teased.

"I guess," Blair managed a faint smile. "You think he knew?"

Ellison shrugged. "No one seems to know quite what he was doing here that night. He wasn't known for coming in late..."

"No," Blair admitted slowly.

"So he either came to get the box or to meet or Lopez."

"Or both?"

"Or both," Ellison agreed, watching Blair absently fingering the books on the shelf. "If Norman found about Perez’ being murdered and his connection with the Kindred, he might have realised they’d be after him. He could have been looking to sell the box back to them to protect himself."

Sandburg looked over his shoulder at him. "That would have been a dumb move," he said slowly. "They'd be afraid to let him talk."

Ellison nodded and sighed. "I’ve corrupted you, chief. You’re starting to think like me. You’re nearly as suspicious as I am."

"It’s a logical move. Ah....Aztecs...."

"Ah?" Ellison moved closer as Sandburg lifted down a book from the shelf.

"The Professor was looking at this when I came in I think. He wrote it..." Blair explained, opening the book at random and staring at the photo on the page. He ignored the sheet of paper that fell out. "Aztec sacrificial knife," he murmured. "Jim? Isn’t this the knife that was in the box?"

"Certainly looks like the photo Forensics gave me," Ellison admitted, scooping up the paper and unfolding it.

"Same design anyway," Blair murmured. "This one’s obsidian and bone. I dread to think where the bone came from....I wonder if the knife we have is the genuine article. I need to take another look. We might need to get it authenticated...."

"Don’t bother..."

"Why not? It could be important."

"Norman seems to have had his own doubts." Ellison answered, showing the paper to Sandburg. "Does the number on this slip look like it means anything?" He flicked a finger against the green ticket stapled to the top of the page.

Sandburg frowned. "Um, locker number maybe?" he suggested. "Airport left luggage?"

"Bright boy," Jim said dryly as he folded the paper and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

Blair gave him a dirty look. "That’s a copy of the receipt for the box. Why’d he leave it here?"

Ellison gazed down at him solemnly for a moment. "Because you’re honest, kid," he said simply. "He trusted you. And he probably knew you were connected to me."

"I don’t get it," Blair protested, baffled. "Everyone knows...."

"Look, if Norman thought someone was after him, maybe he thought he could find a way out of it on his own. You said he was a bit of an adventurer."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, he thought that if anything happened to him and you found this, you’d figure it out."

"I don’t...."

Jim turned the book over in Blair’s hands, tapping the Professor’s name on the cover. "First place you’d look, hmmh?"

"Oh, maybe, if I hadn’t got clobbered that night...."

"You’d have remembered Norman coming to see you and put two and two together."

"But I wasn't even his assistant."

"Safer that way. No one would have connected you. Lopez probably wouldn’t know anything about you if you hadn’t walked in on him that night."

"Bad timing," Blair laughed shakily. "Now what?"

"We go check out this locker and see what’s in it."

Sandburg nodded, staring at the book. "I barely knew him," he murmured.

Taking the book out of his hands, Jim set it back on the shelf and started towards the door. "All the more reason to make sure we stop the man who killed him before he kills again...."

Jim was looking back over his shoulder at his partner as he stepped through the doorway, distracted by a faint bitter tang in the air. He was a second too late to hear the whisper of cloth on cloth and the sigh of air as he was struck viciously on the back of the head and his senses exploded in a multicoloured burst of lights that faded rapidly to black...

As Ellison dropped unconscious at his feet, Sandburg froze in shock then jerked back a step, grabbing for anything that came to hand to use as a weapon. The machete kissed his throat as his fingers folded around a wooden African statue. Holding his breath, Blair stared into dark glittering eyes, a dim memory surfacing as he remembered those eyes from the night Norman was murdered.

"I wouldn’t," Lopez told him softly as he eeled forward and grabbed Blair by the back of the neck. Sandburg didn't dare move as the blade pressed down, drawing a faint thread of blood, but he dropped the statue when Lopez nodded at it.

"All I have to do is yell...." he began with false bravado.

"Yell and the first person I cut will be your friend here. You think I can’t take off his head with one slice?"

Sandburg closed his eyes in panic, the vision of his nightmare suddenly all too vivid. "Whatever you say," he whispered as Lopez slid the machete around his throat until it rested against the nape of his neck.

"Very good, Sandburg."

"You know my name?" Blair blurted.

"I select my victims carefully."

"Like Professor Norman?" Sandburg shot back sarcastically and instantly wished he hadn’t. Lopez didn't answer, but Blair could feel the angry chill radiating off him.

"A minor miscalculation," Lopez said at last.

"You butchered him!"

"Be silent," Lopez snapped. "Where’s the knife?"

"What knife?"

Lopez glared at him coldly and leaned on the machete. "Step forward....."

Sandburg obeyed, the pressure on his neck allowed him no choice. He stepped cautiously over Ellison’s feet, straining to see if he was still breathing. There was blood on the back of his head....

He felt the explosion of pain as Lopez hit, a flash of shock, a second of terror that Lopez had used the machete then....nothing ....

* * *

"Jim? Jim....."

Banks’ voice came from far away, beyond the thick grey fog that misted his consciousness and reduced everything to a senseless blur.

"Damn it, Ellison, wake up!"

Jim groaned at the peremptory note, responding reluctantly to the note of command. Prying his eyes open, he focused groggily on banks as the Captain knelt beside him. A multi coloured blur on his other side resolved into a paramedic and beyond him, Ellie Cook hovered, watching anxiously.

"Captain?" Ellison forced out. "What happened?"

"We thought you might be able to tell us," Banks retorted, exchanging a glance with the paramedic. The last thing he needed was anyone else with amnesia.

"Someone hit me. I didn't see who," Jim complained, rubbing the back of his sore head and accepting the paramedic’s help in sitting up. "Where’s Sandburg? Did he call you?"

Banks didn’t answer.

"I called him. Blair gave me a number to call if I thought of anything and someone called Mr Taggart put me through to the Captain," Ellie said quietly. "I came to see if Blair had found out anything about the box and found you lying here unconscious."

Ellison stared at her groggily, striving to focus on what she was saying. "Why didn’t Sandburg call?" he asked vaguely, his thoughts slowly coalescing into a pattern. "Captain? Where is he? Where’s Sandburg?"

"You were the only one here," Ellie said miserably. "I didn’t know he...."

"Captain?!"

Banks gripped his shoulder. "I’m sorry, Jim. It looks like whoever hit you took Sandburg with them. Security saw a man matching Lopez’ description helping someone into the back of a dark coloured van."

"Then why the hell didn't they stop him?!"

"Too far away. They didn’t dare fire with a potential hostage in the vehicle. But whoever it was wasn’t fighting any if it was Sandburg. There’s a description out on the van. We’ll find it."

Ellison took a deep breath, using one of Blair’s concentration tricks to focus past the surge of nausea he felt as he moved. "It was Lopez," he agreed grimly as he drew his feet under him slowly. "I could smell him, those leaves...."

"You should really lie down," the paramedic protested as Ellison started to struggle to his feet.

Jim ignored him, forcing himself to get up and stay upright. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness now. "Captain, I need to get to the airport," he began steadily, groping for his pocket and pulling out the green ticket. "Norman had a left luggage locker there. I don’t know if Lopez heard us talking about it, but there’s a chance he’ll go there if he did."

"I’ll have it checked out." Banks held out a hand for the ticket.

Ellison held on to it. "Call it a hunch, but I think I need to do this. Blair's my partner. I think Lopez will know he can use that against me."

"Why should he?"

"He wants something; why else take Blair?"

Banks met his eyes and refused to give him the obvious answer that Jim already knew; that Lopez meant to use Sandburg as a sacrificial victim. "Jim, you’re not thinking clearly. You’re emotionally involved. I can’t let...."

"To hell with that!"

"Ellison...." Banks rumbled.

"Simon! I let him take Blair when I was supposed to be protecting him!" Jim raged in a burst of frustrated fury and self recrimination. "Yeah, I'm emotionally involved and that makes me sharper! I am damn well going to be the one to get him back! You know I stand a better chance of doing that than anyone else."

Banks gave him a chilly look, but there was understanding in his eyes. Ellison had been too much of a loner until Sandburg came along. The unexpected friendship that had formed between them was a deep and powerful one and Simon had the feeling that he would take losing Blair hard. "All right," he said reluctantly. "You get your chance. But the first sign of you going over the edge and I'm pulling you out."

"Whatever," Jim said flatly and swung to a startled Ellie. "You didn't see anything?"

She shook her head. "There was no one here except you," she answered.

Jim inclined his head gingerly, massaging his stiff neck as he stepped past her, scanning the room for some kind of clue.

The African statue lay on the shelf and Ellison zoned in on it, the faint hint of wrongness about it drawing his attention. Sandburg didn't toss artefacts about. Leaning over it, he zoomed in, focusing tightly....

"Captain, there’s blood on this...." He stretched out a fingertip, lightly brushing the single strand of hair curling from a protrusion in the dark glossy wood. "This is Sandburg’s hair..."

"How can you tell?" Ellie blurted in astonishment.

Jim hesitated. "Lucky guess," he said finally. How could he explain to her that to his Sentinel abilities even a single hair could have an individual personality? "Captain, if Lopez hit him....Sandburg could have been unconscious when Lopez put him in the car." Ellison stored away the information, racking it up as one more point against Lopez. Banks was right about his personal involvement. Up until now, he had wanted Lopez the way he would want any killer, perhaps slightly more determinedly because of the violence involved, but now....now he knew that it could all too easily become an obsession. His Guide was hurt and that scraped his Sentinel nerves dangerously raw. Lopez was now a direct and personal threat to what belonged to him...

"Jim?"

"Sorry, captain?" Ellison spoke softly, making Banks twitch.

"I said, do you want a ride to the airport? You’re in no shape to drive."

"I’d appreciate it, captain," Ellison said mildly and Banks felt his blood run cold at the Sentinel’s quiet control. He was too calm, but there wasn’t a thing Simon could do about it except stay close and hope Ellison could control himself.

* * *

Deep down inside, Blair wanted to curl up in a ball in a dark, warm place and mutter ‘ow’ to himself. Instead, he forced himself to fight off the urge to withdraw and struggle back to consciousness, suspecting that that obeying the semi-conscious urge would lead to coma or worse. If he didn't wake up, there was no telling what might happen to him...

Fighting his way back to consciousness past a viciously throbbing headache that blurred his vision and his stomach roiling furiously, was no easy task, but finally he had to admit he was conscious, even if he was hanging on by a thread.

Dimly things started to make sense to him, the roughness of the floor under his cheek, an ache in his shoulders where his wrists were secured behind him. Gingerly moving his feet told him that his ankles at least were untied.

Daylight was spilling in from above him somewhere, pouring in through a grimy cobwebbed window that he could make out if he moved his head a fraction. So he couldn’t have been out that long...

"Are you awake, Sandburg?" asked a cool voice.

Gritting his teeth, Blair moved again, fighting off the nausea as he struggled to focus on Lopez. "Yes..." he hissed because he saw no point in lying.

Lopez nodded and moved round to crouch where Sandburg could see him easily. He cradled the machete between his hands, point resting on the floor. He was a thin man, dark haired with coolly calculating dark eyes. He was dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket over a dark shirt; on a crowded street Blair would have walked past him and never noticed him. "Not quite what you expected, am I?" Lopez said mildly as he watched Sandburg survey him.

"No..." Blair admitted.

"No sign saying homicidal maniac, nothing to say psychopath..."

"Are you?"

Lopez smiled a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "I've never been sure," he said calmly. "I'm socially maladjusted they say. My moral sense is corrupted." He shrugged, idly playing with the machete hilt. "It’s never bothered me."

"You’re a....murderer....." Blair muttered, wriggling back a bit until he bumped into the wall behind him. He froze, sneaking a peek over his shoulder to check what he had hit before he attempted to hitch himself into a sitting position.

All the time Lopez watched him with the vague curiosity of a cat watching a mouse. "If you mean Professor Norman, you’re actually incorrect. I didn't set out to kill him. He had my box and my knife and I wanted them back. He refused to tell me where they were and turned his back on me like I wasn't important. I’m afraid I lost my temper and hit him." Another little shrug. "Unfortunately I forgot I had my machete in my hand."

"You cut him to pieces!" Sandburg protested. Groggily, he realised he was probably saying all the wrong things and was provoking Lopez, but his pounding headache made it difficult to think clearly enough to guard his tongue.

"Yes," Lopez agreed calmly. "As I said, I lost my temper....You were lucky I had calmed down a little when you walked in. That and Security showing up...." An edgy little smile crossed his face again. "Did you think it was some weird Aztec ritual?"

By now Sandburg had his shoulders propped against the cold brick wall behind him, but he didn't dare shake his head. He had a feeling it would fall off if he did. "Not one I knew of..." he said faintly and was surprised by the faint slur of his tongue.

Lopez frowned. "Really? I thought Norman would have told you all about the Kindred."

Sandburg swallowed, half closing his eyes against the sharp edges of light from the window. "I hardly knew Norman," he mumbled.

"But you were there...."

"I heard noises...."

"He sent you the box."

"He could have sent it to anyone at the University."

"But you had it," Lopez insisted. "You and Ellison. You took it to your apartment....You have the knife."

"Forensics have the knife," Blair corrected wearily.

"Forensics?" Lopez echoed and he scowled, twirling the machete faster between his flattened hands. "I see....."

"Why’s the knife so important?" Blair asked. "'S got some kind of cult significance?"

Lopez’ hands stilled on the machete and he smiled again. "Probably. But to me it’s simply a very valuable object that I can sell. You don’t think I believe in all that Aztec stuff, do you?"

Sandburg gazed back at him in silence. "But the box and the knife belonged to the cult?" he said slowly.

"Correct," Lopez agreed, watching him intently.

"And Perez had it....?"

"Because the authorities were closing in on the Kindred. I gave it to him for safekeeping. Mine. The others were getting nervous. I wanted a way to make sure they didn't throw me to the authorities to save themselves; the box was it. The damn fool heard the cult members had been caught and thought he could sell it. He was wrong."

"You killed him," Blair guessed. "What about Ramirez?"

"He was getting too close to certain members. I killed him. Covering the box in his skin was a nice touch I thought, hide any number of secrets that way. A gruesome little message, don’t you think? Pity he managed to get more information out than we knew."

"Why?" Sandburg blurted. "Perez and Ramirez I can vaguely understand, but the other murders...."

Lopez sighed. "Cult killings. I was paid for such things. All these wannabe powerful men using Aztec rituals, not because they really believe in them but so they can intimidate others into obeying them, all scared of getting their hands bloody."

"You’re saying they never killed anyone?"

"Someone had to teach them," Lopez answered proudly. "They learned. I did the...messier bits shall we say...." He cocked his head to one side, his eyes shining. "Aren’t you wondering why I’m telling you all this?"

"The bad guy always gloats?"

Lopez actually laughed; he had a soft hissing little laugh, full of more menace than humour. "Perhaps you’re right. Or perhaps I'm going to kill you so it won't matter..." He twirled the machete once more between his hands and then rose to his feet with frightening speed. Blair flinched back against the wall as Lopez leaned close enough to rest the tip of the machete against the hollow of his throat. "How I kill you, fast or slow, is up to you," he purred. "On the other hand..."

"The other h-hand?" Sandburg stammered, snatching at straws.

"I want my knife back and you are the way I am going to get it...I think you are likely to be very persuasive towards your friend Ellison when it comes to your neck – and other parts – being on the line...."

* * *

The laptop wasn’t quite what Ellison had expected to find when they opened the locker. He would have taken bets on it being almost anything else. Somehow a laptop seemed entirely too humdrum. But a computer it was and, now that Forensics had finished with it, it sat on Banks’ desk while they went through the folders.

Sipping coffee, Jim listened with half an ear and searched through every possible idea he could come up with for a clue as to where Lopez might have taken Sandburg.

"This Professor Norman was pretty thorough," Rudy muttered as he typed. "He must have known he was involved in something risky. He’s got names, places, times...There’s a whole network of underground antiquities dealers here tied up with the cult thing...."

Banks looked over at Ellison, taking in his strained expression. "What about Lopez?" he prompted. "Any mention of him?"

Jim lifted his head, focusing on them for the first time as Rudy started a new search. The dark haired young man was their acknowledged computer expert, but he couldn’t find what wasn't there. "I don’t think Lopez is dumb enough to give away any secrets to Norman," he commented sourly.

"Unless he did and killed him to shut him up," Rudy murmured. "There’s a file here on Lopez...."

"Open it." Banks leaned over his shoulder to study the screen.

Ellison took a slow mouthful of coffee, determined not to show the raw edges of his nerves. "Anything?" he said casually. The look Banks gave him told him he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Norman has him connected with the network. Looks like Lopez is the one Perez got the box from...." Rudy broke off, looking up at the purring ring of Jim's cell phone.

Ellison fished it out hastily. "Ellison...."

"Jim!" Blair's voice was tight and squeaky with barely suppressed fright. "Don’t listen to...." There was a rustle of sounds, a thump and a muffled gasp from Blair.

"Sandburg? Blair?!" Ellison bellowed into the phone, acutely aware of Banks and Rudy staring at him.

"I'm sorry; your friend can’t talk to you at the moment. He’s tied up," a viciously amused voice responded.

"Lopez..." Ellison hissed the guess.

"Ah, you know who I am. That will save time. You know what I'm capable of...."

"If you hurt Sandburg...." Ellison began furiously. Banks touched his arm, mouthing at him to restrain his temper.

"That’s exactly what I'm going to do unless you give me what I want," Lopez retorted coolly. "And I will not start small by chopping off his fingers. I’ll start big. A foot maybe. I can cauterise the wounds. I've had practice."

"You listen to me, you son of a bitch...."

"Ah, no name calling. You might make me lose my temper and you really don’t want me to do that."

"What is it you want?" Jim grated.

"The knife that was in the box."

"I can’t...." Ellison protested desperately.

"You can," Lopez interrupted curtly. "And you will. Don't give me any bull about the rules and not negotiating for hostages. If you want Sandburg back alive, you will find a way around those rules and get me that knife or you will be getting him back piece by piece...."

Ellison’s free hand curled into a fist and he could feel the tension creeping through his phone hand. "I’ll meet you. Where and when?" he spat, ignoring the look on Banks’ face as the Captain shook his head at him.

"That’s better," Lopez said cheerfully. "I don’t want anyone watching us. So you’ll come alone. Any back up and I start hacking." He went on to name a time and a rendezvous point before abruptly breaking the connection.

Jim lowered the cell phone, staring at it grimly rather than look at Banks.

"Are you out of your mind?" Simon snarled at him. "I can’t let you hand over the damn knife."

"He’ll kill Blair if I don’t. I could hear it in his voice."

"That does fit his psychological profile, captain," Rudy put in. "He enjoys hurting people."

"Aren’t you supposed to be concentrating on that computer?" Banks demanded, giving Rudy a glare that made him hastily duck back to the laptop.

"He’s right, captain," Jim said softly. "Lopez will carry out his threat. I don’t have a choice."

"That knife..."

"I know all the rules and I’ll break them all if I have to," Jim interrupted. "None of them mean a damn if it’s the only way to get Sandburg back in one piece.

Banks scowled into Ellison’s clear blue eyes, reading the determination there. Ellison wasn’t going to listen to reason this time. When it came to Sandburg all bets were off. He sighed heavily. "What makes you think he’ll exchange Sandburg for the knife? He’s more likely to keep him as a hostage until he’s clear, then kill him." He shot a glare at Rudy who was doing his best to look at if he wasn't listening. "That fits his profile too..."

"I wasn’t planning on letting him get away, captain," Ellison said soberly. "I need the knife, the real knife, not a fake; because he’s going to want to see it and I get the feeling he’ll know a fake."

Rudy nodded. "Lopez is supposed to know what he’s doing when it comes to artefacts. Norman never dealt with him according to this computer, but he’d heard about him and his reputation. Jim won't be able to pull a fast one on him."

Banks sighed heavily again and turned away, gazing from his office window into the outer room. Ellison hovered, willing him to agree. Finally Simon gave him a tired look. "You’ll need back up."

"It’s too risky, captain. You heard what he said; he’ll carve Sandburg up like a roast dinner if I don’t come alone. Frankly, sir, I believe he’ll do it. I can take him on my own."

"Jim, even with your abilities...." Banks hesitated, glancing at Rudy.

"Is the knife really worth more than Sandburg?" Jim pressed.

Banks gritted his teeth, feeling himself being backed into an emotional corner. "All right," he snapped grimly at last. "But you’d better be right...."

* * *

It was raining as Jim pulled his pick up into the abandoned parking lot at the back of the warehouse where Lopez had told him to meet him. Sometimes Jim thought that Cascade had been named for the amount of rain it got at times. This was the third spot Lopez had directed him to; the first two had been red herrings, designed to make sure Ellison didn’t have time to put a SWAT team in place.

Gazing from through the windscreen, Jim rested one hand on his jacket pocket where his cell phone was and waited. He was very good at being patient, Banks had said once. But Sandburg had described it more accurately, the patience of the big cat, waiting for its prey. The jungle had taught Jim how to wait; his Sentinel abilities had honed the talent further.

The faintest of scraping noises drew his attention to the building and he turned his head a fraction, identifying the sound as the scrape of a door opening, rubbing along worn concrete. The brush of footsteps followed; two sets of sneakers....

Keeping his voice soft, Jim tucked his head towards the wire concealed under his shirt. "I think this is it, Simon. Stand by...."

Jim dropped his hand from the phone and slid out of the car, walking around to the passenger side nearest the warehouse wall. Once again, he stopped to wait, tracking the footsteps as they came along the side of the building to the corner. He tilted his head slightly, watching as a sliver of face appeared along the edge of the corner.

After a second, Lopez slid into view, yanking Sandburg along by a grip on one arm. Lopez was carrying a machete, the blade of which rested lightly across Blair's stomach. The anthropologist himself didn't seem to realise it was there. He was looking the worse for wear and Ellison gritted his teeth, allowing himself the luxury of giving his partner a critical look over. Bruised and battered, yes, and the glaze in his eyes was either a concussion or drugs....

Stone leaf. Sandburg had said something about using it as a soporific. It made sense. Get the sacrificial victim too stoned out of his mind to care what was happening to him and he’d cooperate with his own murder.

Lopez probably had a lot of experience with drugging people...

Seeing Jim standing calmly still with his hand lightly extended away from his sides, Lopez advanced, pulling a stumbling Sandburg along with him. "You know I can slice him open, Ellison, don’t you?" he warned as he came within speaking range. "This blade is razor sharp."

"All that hacking through bone doesn’t dull it then?" Ellison retorted sarcastically.

"Hacking Norman to bits did kind of blunt it, but I honed it afterwards. But if you’re wondering, this one’s my spare. Want me to demonstrate how sharp it is?" Lopez responded coolly and jerked at Sandburg, spilling his hostage to his knees at his feet. He rested the blade across the side of Blair's neck. Sandburg blinked up at Ellison groggily, a flicker of comprehension showing behind the dazed confusion in his eyes.

"What’d you give him?" Jim asked sharply.

"Guess," Lopez retorted. "I needed him cooperating. He was getting a little too feisty about doing as he was told."

Jim sighed. "Blood leaf or stone leaf or whatever you called it?"

Lopez half lifted one shoulder in a loose shrug. "In English, yeah. In Aztec something with a lot of z and t’s in it to make it unpronounceable."

Ellison studied Blair for a moment then lifted glacial blue eyes to Lopez. "It’s a hallucinogen."

"In the raw form, yeah. But don’t worry; I wouldn’t do that to your little friend. It makes some people violent. That was one of the little problems the Kindred had."

"Let me guess, someone thought they could make some money out of selling Blood Leaf?"

"You’re smart," Lopez responded dryly. "Yeah. You’d be surprised how many people think it’s fashionable to get high on purported ancient Aztec drugs, amongst other things." A twisted smile crossed his mouth. "You put to two and two together yet?"

"A drugs cartel was behind the cult," Ellison’s lip curled in disgust. "But it got out of hand. The murders attracted too much attention. You got out before you got caught. How’d you get into the country? Drug pipeline?"

"No, I flew in on a standard flight with my weapons packed up as ancient Aztec artefacts in a box of blood leaf. I even had copies of Professor Norman’s manifests."

Ellison frowned. "You killed Perez because he sold the box to Norman and took copies of the manifests to smuggle in your weapons."

"Took his identity for a while too. He came in and out of the country all the time. You’re stalling, Ellison. Where’s the knife?"

"I thought you wanted to talk."

"You thought I wanted to gloat. How dumb do you think I am? The knife. Where is it?"

Jim inclined his head towards the pick up. "Front seat," he said easily. "I’ll get it..."

"No!" Lopez snapped. "Move away from the car."

Ellison scowled, but he could see Lopez’ muscles tightening with tension as he pressed the blade tighter to Sandburg’s throat. Lopez was close to the edge. Blair hissed as a trickle of blood ran down his neck.

Extending his hands away from his body, Jim backed slowly away from the car. So much for using the door for a shield while he got the drop on Lopez....

Lopez tugged at the back of Blair’s jacket with his free hand, urging him to get up. With his hands bound behind him, Sandburg found it a struggle, lurching sideways. For a split second, Lopez’ full attention was on him and he swore...

Jim moved, one hand flickering towards his gun...

Lopez snarled, head jerking up... "Don’t," he warned.

"Put the machete down or I’ll fire," Jim warned.

Lopez shook his head, half crouching to hide behind Sandburg. "No, you put the gun down or I’ll stick him..."

With dread in his eyes, Sandburg flung himself backwards, pushing off with his toes to slam into Lopez.

Lopez staggered off balance, caught by surprise, he fell and rolled. An instant later he was back up and spinning around, reaching furiously for Sandburg again...

Only Ellison was in his way, foot flashing out in a kick that smashed into his hand and knocked the machete from his pulverised fingers...

Lopez glared up at him, cuddling his hand to his chest. "You broke my fingers, you bastard...."

"I’d be tempted to say good but I'm not allowed to," Jim retorted laconically as he aimed his gun at Lopez and eased stealthily towards him.

Lopez flashed a look towards the machete.

"Don't even think...." Ellison began in sharp warning then grunted in pain as Lopez launched himself upwards, drawing a knife as he slammed into the bigger man and bowled him off his feet. Jim saw stars as the back of his head hit concrete and the gun skittered from his numbed fingers.....

Black shadows flitted around him then were erased by the sharp searing pain of the knife ripping through his flesh, drawing blood as it scoured his skin and sliced through his ribs....

A twisted grin of glee on his face, Lopez jabbed his knees into Ellison’s stomach and plunged the knife at his throat....

"No!" Blair screamed and catapulted into him, knocking Lopez from his perch and sending him tumbling.

As Sandburg sprawled dizzily, a snarling Lopez lunged at him, grabbing a fistful of dark curls to yank his head back and rip the knife through his exposed throat....

The bullet took him through the throat before he could cut, smashing into the hollow of his collarbone and down into his chest to explode through his back. The impact smashed him backwards and he toppled over in a twitching heap to the blood spattered concrete....

Sandburg fell over as he was realised, twisting around on his side to stare in horror at the body, aware of the feel of warm blood on his face...

Ellison flitted past him, bent over Lopez for a split second then holstered his gun and swung back to Sandburg, scooping him off the concrete with a strong arm around his shoulders.

"You shot him?" Blair gurgled as Jim sliced through his bonds with his own penknife.

"Yeah. He didn't give me much choice." Jim suppressed a growl at the state of Blair’s bloodied wrist where he had been fighting the rope. Sandburg should be in hospital, he figured. And from the burning pain in his ribs, he reckoned he needed some attention too. At least he could handle the pain by mentally turning down the reception of his nerve endings and concentrating on Sandburg.

"But...you shot him...."

"I know, chief," Ellison began impatiently, then paused looking into Sandburg’s wide shock filled blue eyes. Digging into a pocket, he fished out a clean handkerchief and wiped Blair’s blood speckled face carefully. "It’ll be okay, chief," he said gently, hearing the wail of the sirens coming. "I know it’s a shock."

"You shot him...." Sandburg repeated blankly, still staring at Lopez’ cooling remains.

"It was him or you, Blair," Jim said softly, cupping his jaw to turn his head away from the body and towards his own face.

Blair blinked and seemed to come into focus for a moment. "Jim?"

"Yeah, kid, it’s me."

"He drugged me," Blair said plaintively. "I thought he was going to kill me."

"So did I," Jim answered softly. "But you’re safe now."

With a shaken nod of understanding, Sandburg gulped and burrowed into his chest, clinging to the bigger man as he shook in reaction. Putting one comforting arm around his shoulders, Ellison sighed in relief and looked towards the cars spilling into the parking lot, dialling down his hearing before he was deafened by the scream of sirens.

He had a feeling Simon was going to yell. He had wanted Lopez alive for questioning. Which was fine as far as he went. But Jim had other priorities. He had wanted Blair alive...

* * *

"Chips, chief," Ellison dropped the bag in his partner’s lap then came round the couch and eased himself down on the other couch, mindful of his stitched ribs pulling.

Pulling the bag open and taking a handful of chips, Blair gave him a critical look. "I've got some ointment," he suggested. "It’ll stop the stitches pulling..."

"If you mean that gunk Naomi slathered on your arm, I’ll pass," Jim sniffed as he put his feet up on the coffee table and rested the TV remote on his stomach. With a beer conveniently to hand, a large bowl of popcorn and a big bag each of chips, he felt they were fully prepared for the Western marathon. "That stuff sinks like a swamp!"

"Yeah well, that’d be the algae...."

"Algae?" Jim shuddered. "And you drink it too?"

"It’s good for you."

"Keeps your leaves green, I suppose." Ellison snorted again and helped himself to the popcorn. At least Blair was looking better, he reflected lazily. Three days in hospital had put him back on his feet and got rid of the effects of the Blood Leaf and the whack on the head. A couple more days of taking it easy and Jim figured he’d be able to relax too.

"We could watch the Egyptian strip," Blair suggested cautiously.

"Strippers?" Jim cast a thoughtful look at him.

"No! Egyptian archaeology. Back to back editions...."

"No," Jim said firmly. "You’re past the pampering stage now."

"Since when did you ever pamper me?"

"Hah! Did I not make your breakfast?"

"You wouldn’t make my algae shake," Blair pouted.

"I could say something rude about that, but I won’t," Jim grinned at him affectionately. "And I fixed dinner."

"True," Sandburg considered, grinning back. "Want me to make breakfast next time?"

"Depends on how well you sleep," Jim said simply.

Sandburg flinched slightly at that. His nightmares had woken Ellison a couple of times now.

"They’re getting better, chief, not so intense," Jim said quietly. "I shouldn’t have reminded you."

"I wish they’d go away!" Blair blurted.

Ellison didn't answer. At least Blair's memories of Norman’s murder were still only vague hazy things that hadn't made it into his nightmares. They would probably have sent the anthropologist off the deep end in shock. The experts’ opinion seemed to be that Sandburg was unlikely to remember everything about what had happened that night and Jim sincerely hoped that the experts were right and the whole thing would remain a blank to his partner.

"You could at least make soothing noises," Blair muttered.

"Huh? Sorry, chief, but they will go away in time. Want me to buy you a teddy bear?"

"Oh, very funny!" Glaring at him, Blair levered himself off the couch. "I need another beer."

Grinning to himself, Jim let him go. Blair was entitled to his nightmares and Jim could stand losing a few hours sleep to help him over them. The alternative of losing his partner was one he didn't want to think about. It was a dangerous world the Sentinel lived in and without Sandburg he sometimes thought it would be intolerable. Blair was a much needed breath of fresh air and sanity. And not only because of his help with his abilities. Blair reminded him that there was anther world were people didn't worry about mad machete carrying murderers and drug dealers all the time. Lifting his beer glass, Jim drank a silent toast to his partner and settled down to enjoy having Blair back safe and sound beside him.

oooOooo