Author's Note: here it is, earlier than I anticipated.

Romance warning for this chapter, but I'm dedicated to keeping the chapters I post PG-13 or below for that kind of stuff.  You want 'R' versions of the romance scenes, you'll have to e-mail me, and I'll send those to you.  However, when I say 'romance,' what I really mean is 'adult content and no real love actually happening anywhere.'  Should love appear now, everyone would be OOC, and that's something I refuse to do.

*****************************************************************

Tess swung her leg up to rest on the porch railing.  The railing was the perfect height - her leg was at a 90º angle to her body.  She'd just finished her evening jog and now she was ready to stretch.

   With a deep sigh, Tess bent over and tucked her intertwined fingers around her foot; her forehead rested on her knee.  As she counted to one hundred and twenty, she absently removed her ankle weight.  It dropped to the porch with a thud.  One-seventeen, one-eighteen, one-nineteen, one-twenty.  Standing up, Tess switched legs as the door opened.  She looked over her shoulder - Alma come out to join her.  "Buenos noches, chica."

   "Tía?  I need help with my math."  They'd only been in the states for less than a year, but Alma was nearing the point where Tess would say the girl was fluent in English.  Marcos was fluent - he'd leaned the language eagerly.  Alma had depended on stubbornness to learn it, René knew the English words for most things but delighted in refusing to speak any, and Selena could often be found babbling in a mixture of both languages.

   "What kind of help?"

   "Times tables."

   As Tess finished her stretching, she helped Alma run through her multiplication tables up to eight.  The last round gave her trouble, but she eventually got through it.  By the time Alma was comfortable with the 'eights', both woman and girl had moved to sit on the porch swing.  For awhile they sat in silence, watching the moon rise over the houses across the street.  Tess tried to spend a few moments alone with each child every day, and tried to be accessible, but she feared she wasn't very good at it.  Often she felt bewildered or overwhelmed.  If Cora hadn't come along, she didn't know what she would have done.

   "Tía?"

   "Sí, Alma?"

   "I don't want to go with Cora tomorrow."

   Ah.  Tomorrow.  Día los Muertos.  "Why not?"  The girl shrugged.  "Cora was going to have you all help her set up her altar, and then you were going to make candles and sugar rolls, and she ever dried some marigolds for you to arrange.  Doesn't that sound like fun?"

   "Yes . . . but . . . Máma and Pápa died last year on Día los Muertos."

   "And you're not sure you should be having fun?"  The girl shrugged, but Tess thought she was right.  "It's alright for you to keep living your life, chica."  Still no response.  "It's important that you remember them."

   "Then why can't we celebrate here?  Why are you sending us away?  Why aren't you coming with us?"

   Because I find no joy in remembering my family.  I find no joy in remembering that day.  "I have to work, chica."

   "But after that."

   "After that I'll have papers to grade."  Tess sighed.  "You'll have a better time without me.  But, I'll have my phone with me all day and you can call me at any time to talk, or to have me come get you, or whatever."  Tess really wanted to spend the day alone, contemplating everything that had happened in the past year, but the kids were important.  She had a duty to them, and she found she also wanted to . . . to be able to nurture them?  She didn't exactly know how to do that, but the past year hadn't been too painful where the kids were concerned.

   "Okay, Tía."

   A few more moments passed in silence before Tess realized how late it was getting.  "Are you done with your homework?"

   "No.  I have to read a chapter of my book."

   "Well, that needs to be done before bed, so in you go."  Tess watched as the girl went back inside, noticing that she'd donned a coat before coming out.  The kids were still used to Mexico's much warmer climate, and they didn't really like the cold.  But they like snow, so it balances out, I guess. 

   Balance . . . "The best way to predict the future is to invent it . . . Wise words.  I did that.  And it was all fun and games until someone got their eyes poked out."  Tess shivered and stood up.  Even after a year, that voice rang clear in her memory.  When would it leave?

   Stretching one last time, Tess looked over her neighborhood.  It was a quiet place filled with doctors and bankers and lawyers and their families.  All was peaceful and pristine . . . except for the car parked across the street.  People around here had nice cars that they kept in garages.  This car was nice enough . . . just out of place.

   Maybe the O'Connors have a child visiting or something.  Her neighbors across the street were empty nesters, although they seemed to miss having children around.

   Then why isn't the car in their garage?  They have the room.

   Maybe whoever owns the car is only here for a short visit.

   Then they would have parked in the driveway.  Besides, that car has been parked there off and on for the past three days.

   You lie.

   No, I keep my eyes peeled so you don't end up dead.

   Tess had had enough.  You're being paranoid.  There's no need for that.  Jessica and Logan are the only ones who know I'm here, and they both know I'd like to keep that private.  The cartel doesn't shadow for days on end - they find out just enough information to come in and kill you.  Besides, there's no one left in Mexico who wants me around.

   That's why you fled, right?  And who said anything about your family?  What about Sands?  You know he's dangerous.  What if he's tracked you down and is planning on killing you on the anniversary of the day your family essentially killed him?

   No.  No one is out to get me.  No one is spying on me.  I'm not that interesting.  And now I want to go inside.  It's getting crowded out here.  Tess went to her front door and opened it, throwing one last glance over her shoulder at the car despite all her words.  There was no reason to be paranoid, but there wasn't a reason to be careless either.  It's nothing.  Her mind made up, Tess stepped inside her home and locked the door behind her.

Sands lowered his camera as he restlessly chewed on some gum.  He'd much rather smoke, but smoke stung his eyes in close quarters and he couldn't roll down a window because that would attract attention to himself - attention he couldn't afford at the moment.

   Speaking of his eyes, they were burning anyway.  As much as Sands appreciated being able to wear contacts, they were a pain in the ass at the moment.  With an irritated sigh he removed them, placing them in their little container.  The world immediately went grainy and completely out of focus.  It wasn't as bad as things had been during his recovery, but it was a dangerous position to be caught in.  He quickly put on his glasses, relaxing as things became clear again.  Once the house settled for the night, he'd go back to the hotel and develop his roll of film.

   He didn't have long to wait - a fact for which he was grateful.  In a little over an hour the last light blinked out.  Finally.  Sands started his car and drove off, reviewing his plans for the next day.

   It was only a ten minute drive to his hotel.  Unlocking the door to his room, Sands walked in and threw his coat on the bed, heading directly to the bathroom.

   One of the reasons he'd chosen to stay here had been the bathroom.  It had two sinks - one to use for normal things, one to for developing his pictures.  In the six days that he'd been in town, Sands had already developed several rolls of film.  Most of the pictures were of his quarry, but pictures of others had sneaked in.  There were several of the kids and the housekeeper - one Cora Mendez, daughter of Gregory and Christina (Tina) Mendez.  Tina Mendez was Logan's personal assistant, and possibly the only person he'd met in LA that hadn't pissed him off.  She wasn't bad looking, but she didn't hold Sands' interest either.  He'd bugged the house three days ago when everyone had been out, and he had to admit that the woman's phone conversations were not all that interesting.  Not as interesting as the fact that Tess could often be found muttering to herself when she was alone.

   He had felt a bit of guilt about wiring the house, but to allay that, he hadn't planted any cameras.  Instead he settled on following the routines of the house's inhabitants.  Tomorrow morning he planned on sneaking into one of Tessa's morning classes before setting things into motion.  Information was good, and he wanted to make sure he had enough before confronting her.  Information like when the best time to get Tess alone was, what kind of car she drove, where she worked, where the kids were during the day - anything that would help.

   It'd paid off.  Yesterday he'd overheard that both the housekeeper and the kids were going to be out of the house for the Day of the Dead, but that Tess was going to be at the house.  Alone.  It was perfect, really.  Almost ironic.

   Tomorrow he'd put his plan into action.  And on November 3rd, then he'd get down to CIA business.

"Professor?"

   Tess jumped back to herself, somewhat ashamed to be caught with her mind wandering.  "Sorry.  Yes, you had a question?"  Semi-reluctantly, she moved her eyes from the man in the back row who had warning bells going off in her head, and looked at the girl who'd apparently had her hand raised for some time.

   "Yes." Standing, the girl help up a copy of some medical journal.  "I was reading this last month, and when you started the unit on transplants, I remembered reading about this.  It was written by a doctor in California who was recently granted permission to -"

   Tess held up a hand to stop the girl.  Med students, she thought in exasperation.  Of all the things to bring up today.

   Yes.  One might think that someone doesn't want you to forget what you were doing at this time last year.

   It's only 9 am.  At this time last year, I was having breakfast.

   And waiting for the slaughter to begin.  "I've heard about that . . . experiment, Leslie."  I should hope so.  After all, you supplied the guinea pig.  "I believe I've even read that same article.  You don't need to go into further detail.  What is it that you wanted to ask?"

   "I was wondering how you felt about how quickly Dr. Pierce got permission to start human trials.  Looking at the body of data he collected beforehand, it doesn't seem as if he should have been allowed to proceed with human trials for another few years."

   "It's true that Dr. Pierce had only, what was it?  Seven trials before getting government approval?"  The girl nodded.  "Alright.  However, in each of those trials, the data gathered was almost identical.  Just like in any other transplant procedure, as long as the donor eyes are compatible, the host body won't reject them.  What actually took the longest was developing the drugs that regenerated the nerves and tendons.  And ever with the tens of thousands of dollars that went into that research, I believe the article states that there were unforeseen interactions between the different medications."  Tess sighed and took a seat on the table in the front of the room, crossing her legs at the ankle.  "Now's not the time I would have chosen to get into this, but. . . ."

   Sands watched from the back of the room as Tess described the events of last winter with as few details and as little emotion as she could.  Every word out of her mouth was both clinical and diplomatic.  He resisted the urge to scratch as the glue holding on his fake beard and eyebrows started to irritate his skin.  The tweed jacket he'd picked up at some secondhand store itched as well, but he could put up with that.  After all the months of recovery and boredom, it was good to be back in the game . . . even if he may have gone overboard on the glue.

   Tess was clearly in her element here.  She ran through the facts of his case without ever hinting that she'd been there to experience any of it firsthand.  After a few minutes, Sands tuned out what she was saying, examining her instead.  This was the closest he'd gotten to her since she'd left - the first time that he was staring at her without the aid of a camera lens.

   He had to admit that she wasn't the worst looking female he'd ever seen, but she wasn't her sister either.  At the moment her hair was tucked into some kind of knot behind her head, not a single strand escaping or misbehaving.  Not that he'd expected otherwise.  Tess was a woman who liked things to stay tidy - her appearance should always reflect that, at least in public.  The privacy of her own home might be another matter altogether.

   Her clothing was simple and chosen to keep attention from being drawn to herself.  She was wearing charcoal grey dress with a turtleneck, and had a black jacket on over that.  The only adornments she was wearing was a pair of glasses with oval frames and a silver wristwatch.  No rings, no earrings, no necklace.

   For the most part, this morning class was silent, occasionally asking a question, but not showing any of the energy that normally characterized college students.  Monday mornings get to everyone, I suppose.  Sands met Tessa's eyes as she glanced up at him again.  Undoubtedly, she was trying to figure out what he was doing there.  He was confident that she had no clue as to who he was - not with the blond beard and wig - and his appearance would be too out of context for her to figure out why he made her uneasy.

   Finally, a buzzer on the table went off.  Students packed up their materials as Tess reminded them of reading assignments.  Sands waited as students filed out of the lecture hall, sitting until he and Tess were the only ones in the room.  She was openly staring at him now, standing in a position that clearly communicated her uncertainty.  When she opened her mouth to question him, Sands stood an went out a nearby door, leaving her in the room with her mouth open.

As Tess packed away her papers and files for the day, her mind drifted back to the strange man who'd been in her nine o'clock class.  She was still trying to decide whether he'd really been there or if she needed to see her doctor about adjusting her medication dosage.  She'd gone so far as to walk to the chair he was sitting in and feel the seat to see if it was warm or not.  It had been, and Tess grasped this evidence that she wasn't hallucinating, but . . . something about him hadn't been right.

   Did you catch the way he was looking at you the entire class?

   This is a college, and I'm a professor.  Most of the people in me classes 'look' at me the entire time they're in here.

   Yes, but most of them don't send shivers down your spine.

   Neither did he.

   But he almost did.  I could feel the impending shivers.  I'm telling you that he was no good.

   Well, if he shows up again tomorrow, I'll call security, alright?

   I don't think he's dangerous . . . he just reminded you of someone you're trying hard - but unsuccessfully - to forget.

   That man looked nothing like Sands.  Besides, the last I heard -  she stopped herself.  She didn't want to admit that she'd been keeping her ears open for news of the man.

   What did you hear?

   It's not important.

  It is if you remembered.  Relax, it's not like I'm asking you to talk to me out loud.  Just a little admission.

   I don't owe you anything.  Besides, I should be focusing on other things today.

   Like keeping your mind off Sands?  Understandable.  The man did get under your skin.  He was important to you.  And then you left him

  Yes.  I left him.  I left him knowing that he'd hate me if I stayed and he'd despise me if I left, but I chose what was easier for me.  It'd be easier for me to leave and never have to see that hate in his eyes.  I've seen that expression in too many faces to subject myself to it again.  Thank you for bringing this up, and for pointing out what a horrible person I am, and for sticking your nose in where it's not wanted.  Now, if you would kindly go to sleep until I need you?

   Picking up her briefcase, Tess left the classroom she'd been debating herself in, and went to her car, determined to get home and relax.  The sooner she moved on to other things, the sooner her voice and her mind would let her forget what'd happened a year ago.

Sands looked around Tessa's house as he waited for her to arrive home.  Other people might not be able to glean insight into people from their surrounding, but Sands could.  The first thing he noticed was the prominence of several decorating themes throughout the house.  Now, this was something that an interior designer knew to do, but he suspected it was simply an extension of Tessa's personality.  Another thing he noticed was the lack of clutter, and what clutter was around was specialized clutter.  There was a wicker basket for shoes by the front door.  The magazines in the living room were arranged in a magazine rack according to title and issue.  The spice rack in the kitchen had all the spices arranged alphabetically.  The books in the bookcases followed the Dewy Decimal system.  And this was mild compared to what things were like in her room.

   Sands had spent an hour in there.  Clothes were hung up - all of them.  Even her jeans hung from hangers.  And not only were they hung up, but they were arranged according to fabric, color, and season they were meant to be worn in.  Shoes were lined up in pairs.  Her sock drawer was arranged by color.  In the linen closet in her bathroom, there were seven sets of towels - each set containing a bath sheet and a smaller towel, both matching in color.  Her CDs were arranged alphabetically by artist and divided into different genres.  There wasn't a single item in that room that looked as if it'd been set down without lots of consideration.  Sands wondered if Tess was obsessive/compulsive.  That might explain why she was always quoting things.

   He checked his watch.  It was getting close to the time when she should be home.  He'd better get downstairs.

Tess parked her car in the driveway.  It was warm for November, something for which she was grateful.  She enjoyed cold weather, but she hadn't realized how much she'd also miss the milder winter of Mexico.  Although, that's about all I miss.  I certainly don't miss the summers.  Tess walked to the end of the driveway and retrieved her mail.  There was a couple bills, two or three children's magazines, her copy of Newsweek, and a large, unaddressed manila envelope.  What's this?

   A present from the Unibomber.  I wouldn't open that if I were you.

  Tess slowly walked back to the house, looking over the package.  That's ridiculous.  It's not something from the Unibomber.  They caught him a few years ago, remember?

   Fine.  But don't come crying to me when you don't like what's in that package.

   Opening her front door with her keys, Tess asked, Why wouldn't I like what's in here?

   Remember the last manila envelope you opened?  Tess knew exactly what the voice was talking about.  The night that Logan had come over.  His admission that he'd had someone digging into her past.  You should have done something about that.  It's not safe to let people find out whatever they want about you.

   She closed the door and locked it behind her.  He's a friend.  She'd known that she wasn't going to like whatever had been in the envelope, but she'd opened it, and rummaged through the papers anyway.  Only one document had been important enough to look at immediately; her birth certificate.  And in the end, she probably would have been better off without ever finding it.

   Barillo.  He branded you.  From beyond the grave, he reached out to make a misery of your life one last time.  In one second, you discovered that you were never going to be able to leave your father behind, because he is a part of you and he recognized that.  You're still fighting it though.  I don't know why.  You can't win in the end.

   Tess set her briefcase down by the front door, hanging her keys from the key rack.  If any part of my is my father, then it's you.  You're the one always pushing me to do things I'd never consider on my own.  You're the one laying guilt and suspicion.  You're the one always telling me that I can never truly escape my family, even though they're dead.  Tess realized just how long she'd been debating her voice.  Oh my goodness, she thought. Look.  A quiet evening at home is all I'm asking for.  As she stripped off her jacket and hung it from the coat rack, she asked, Can I at least have that?

   I don't know.  I suppose that depends on you.  After that, the voice was silent. 

   Tess kicked off her shoes, glad to be rid of the things, but suspicious that her voice wasn't going to give up that easily.  If her thoughts kept returning to the Day of the Dead, no matter how she tried to redirect them, she doubted that she'd get much peace tonight.  It's rather warm today.  It was warm that day too, she thought as she walked into the kitchen for a bottle of water.

   Yeah, hot just like you're hot for Sands.  Will you just admit it already?

   Where had that come from?  What the hell are you talking about?

   We both know it's true.  No other man has managed to weasel his way into your thoughts for the past year.  You seclude yourself from other adult  company.  You dream about him -

   Because of you.

   The voice ignored her.  Admit it.  You never wanted to leave.  You wanted to stay.  You wanted to be by his side during his recovery.  You wanted his company, even though you knew he would have done nothing but ignore you, verbally abuse you, and perhaps use you.  I really do think you're a masochist.  Who willingly puts up with that sort of thing?

   One would think you've dulled me to that sort of abuse by now.  But for the sake of argument, let's say you're right.  Let's say that I wanted to stay with Sands.  What would have happened eventually?  One of us would have left, and then it really would have hurt.  And I would be alone.

   The voice was cloying, mocking.  Ah, but you are alone.  Who knows what you have spoken to the darkness, alone, in the bitter watches of the night, when all your life seems to shrink, the walls of your bower closing in about you, a hutch to trammel some wild thing in?  Then in a more matter-of-fact voice, it continued, You really should have laid him when you had the chance.

   You're not helping.

   You're boring

   "Shut up.  You're not being helpful or successful, so give it up."  Tess looked down to discover that not only had she gotten a bottle of water from the fridge, but she'd make herself a snack as well.  I really have to start paying attention to what I'm doing.  "Why am I even talking to you?  You're not real."

   I'm as real as you make me.

   How comforting.  Sitting at the bar, Tess opened her bottle of water and took a sip.  Sighing and taking a bite of the apple she'd cut up, she opened the envelope that'd been in her mailbox.  When she saw the note on top of the stack of papers she pulled free, Tess froze.  "I'm watching."  Those were the only words on the letter, but they were enough to give her a very bad feeling. 

   What else is there?  The voice sounded distinctly cheerful.

   Tess fought to keep her hands from trembling as she looked at the stack of photographs she found under the letter.  They were pictures of her, of her kids, her house, her car.  With each new photo, Tess felt dread and panic fighting for dominance of her mind.

   Some cultures believe that if someone takes your picture, they've stolen your soul.  What do you think, Teresa?  If your soul isn't gone, has something else been taken in its place?  Or has something replaced it?  Wouldn't it be interesting if  I was what had replaced your soul?

   "No," she whispered.  Getting up, she set the pictures on the counter.  I should call the police or something. . . .

   You're being watched, Teresa.  There's someone in the house.  Turn around before death sneaks up on you.  Tess spun around and screamed as her voice was proven right.

Sands had to contain his surprise as Tess finally turned in his direction.  The scream had been a surprise - he didn't think it was possible to overset Tess that much.  The woman had always seemed somewhat controlled - in a very scatterbrained sort of way.  Then, when she turned to run, he jumped after her, grabbing her arm to stop her from running off.  True, he wanted her unsettled, but not terrified.  "Calm down, conejo."

   Rabbit?  Tess froze as the familiar nickname reached her ears.  Shaking her head, trying to clear a space to think amongst the demands for flight and the gleeful delight of her other side, she looked down, still poised to free herself should she need to.  Slowly she looked at the hand locked around her elbow, then traveled up the arm to the shoulder.  Swallowing, she looked at the man's face, not going so far as to look in his eyes.  She was nowhere near ready for that.

   Come off it.  You know it's Sands.

   I don't like sand.  I never even go to the beach, she thought bewilderingly.  What makes you think this is a good thing?  Out loud, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

   Sands smirked at the uncertainty in Tessa's voice.  He wanted to have the upper hand - it was clear that he had it.  Tess was frozen as still as a statue, although she was standing as far from him as possible.

   "What?  No quote for the occasion?"  Slowly, Sands stepped closer to Tess - she retreated.

   "I can't seem to think of one that would be appropriate.  No."

   "Isn't it possible I just dropped by to say 'hello'?  To take you our for dinner for saving my life?"

   Tess laughed disbelievingly.  "The cross on his breast, and the devil in his heart."

   Sands kept walking, forcing Tess to keep retreating before him.  "Is that any way to treat an old friend?" he asked.

   "I wasn't aware that we were friends.  I was under the distinct impression that you hated me."  Tessa's gaze had sunk to the floor, watching his feet as he kept walking towards her.

   "Well, yes, I suppose there is that," he murmured.  Finally he'd managed to back her into a wall.  The moment she realized she'd been corralled, Tess tried to bolt, darting to the side while trying to pull out of his grasp.  Sands had been prepared for that.  He grabbed her other elbow before she could even make a proper escape attempt.  Now that he had her fully under control, he made a soft 'tsk-tsk' sound.  "Just try to relax, chiquita."

   Yeah, right.  Tess could feel the impulse to fight throbbing demandingly at the back of her head, but she contained it.  If there was one thing she'd learned under her father, it was that fighting never helped.  The only reason to fight would be if one was reasonably sure they would win, or if death was a preferable option.  Things hadn't reached that point yet.

   Told you.  I knew you wanted him.

   If this is desire, then I'd be perfectly happy to become a nun.

   This isn't desire . . . yet.  But you're not running, are you?

   I have nowhere to run to.  He's in my home.  Tess flinched as Sands reached for her face.

   "Shh.  I'm not going to hurt you."  He reached for her again, and again she tried to pull away.  "What's got you so upset, niña?"

   What has me upset?  "Let's see.  You've invaded the only home I've ever been able to create for myself.  You've been spying on me.  You scared me out of my wits.  Oh, yes.  And the last time I found myself in this position, you held a gun to my head, nearly strangled me, and did your best to give me a concussion."

   "Hmm . . . I seem to remember there being a bit more to things than that."

   Tess knew what he was talking about, but refused to comment on it.  "You never answered my question."

   "And which question was that?"

   "Why are you here?"

   "Well, that's where things get interesting," he drawled.  "You see, I seem to remember you offering me a pity fuck.  I also seem to remember turning you down at the time."  He finally managed to grab her chin.  He pulled her head up to face him, but she diverted her eyes.  Fine.  "I've decided that was foolish and have come to collect, now that I'm fully capable of . . . appreciating . . . what you offered."

   "Too late.  I don't pity you any more."  She'd never pitied him.  Tess fought the shivers running up and down her spine.  "Are you going to let me go, or were you planning on raping me?"

   "While that might have its advantages, I really don't think things will come to that, chiquita."

   "The hell it won't."  Sands didn't reply, which made Tess nervous.  "I'm serious Sands.  I was never offering you a 'pity fuck'.  I was offering you revenge.  My half-sister screwed you over.  I thought might have appreciated the opportunity to do the same . . . that my body might have served as a substitute for hers."  Still he said nothing.  All he did was stare at her, which unnerved her because she wasn't used to him being able to see, much less be able to see her.  With each passing second of silence, Tess felt her desperation increase.  "Okay, it might have been a crazy idea, but I have a good excuse for that."  She was babbling and she knew it.  "Damnit, Sands!  Say something."

   She felt the heat of his body as he used pure physical proximity to intimidate her.  "Well, you see, niña, that's all fine and good, but I've already gotten revenge on Ajedrez.  I'm here for a different type of revenge."  He grinned as she swallowed at his words.  "Do you know what its like to have someone watching your every move?  Seeing you at your most vulnerable moments?  What it's like to be forced to depend on someone?"  Tess felt his breath brush over her cheek, burning the nerve-endings; she smelled the cigarette smoke on his clothing.  She hated him as she felt some of her desperation turn into something else.  "Have you ever experienced the self-consciousness that come with bumbling around in the dark, knowing that people are judging you?"

   Yes.  "What does that have to do with me?"

   "You were that person, niña.  Maybe you didn't mean to be, but you were.  You made me dependent on you.  You witnessed my private nightmares."  His vice-like grip on her arm loosened.  Tess pulled her arm free, resenting the grip on her chin that kept her in place.  "I really should hate you for it, for being so nice.  So understanding.  But I don't, which for some reason makes it difficult for me to simply kill you."  You're too pure for that.  I'll settle for making you hate me, and then I can forget about you.  Because at the moment, I can't get you out of my head.  Couldn't stop wondering what she would look like without clothing, what sounds she'd make as pleasure swamped her nervous system, if she would despise him in the morning, or if it'd take longer than that.

   Tess knew enough to realize that anything that happened tonight would not be about him, or about her, but about revenge - just as he'd said.  Domination.  She'd had control over him, and no matter what good had come from that, it was a thought that couldn't be borne by the man in front of her.

   You stayed too long.  Took too much.  He's come to collect his due, which I might add, isn't all that unappealing.

   Yes.  It is.  It's just another form of manipulation, of control.  I won't let him have that over me.  Whether he realizes it or not, he already owns part of me, but I refuse to let him take that part.

   You could give it to him.

   "Screw you."  Having said that, Tess grabbed Sands' wrist in her hand and wrenched herself free of his grip, taking off running the moment she was loose.  For the first time, she wondered if tiling had been the way to go in the hallway instead of carpet; she'd taken off her shoes, but she was still wearing her stockings.  Slipping over the floor, she looked over her shoulder as she ran for the nearest room with a lock.  Crap.  Sands was coming after her.  Ok.  Maybe pissing the man off wasn't the best course of action.

   Corner!  Remember the corner.  Tess tried to turn to avoid colliding with the wall, and she might have succeeded if her foot hadn't slipped out from underneath her due to an unreliable throw rug.  She slammed into the wall, the side of her head making a sick 'thunk' as it hit.  Tess literally saw stars as tears came to her eyes.

   Slowly she slid to the floor, a hand searching out the spot on her head which was sure to swell.  "Ouch."  Tess heard Sands' footsteps as he approached her, saw his feet come into view. 

   Tess sat on the floor and waited for Sands to say something, but all that reached her ears was silence.  Even so, she got the distinct impression that he was laughing at her.  When he crouched down in front of her, she looked away, knowing she needed to hold a certain image of him in her head.  If she were confronted with a new face to memorize, she'd be lost.

   Sands watched as Tess slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, still avoiding his eyes.  The way she swayed made him wonder if she'd actually done damage to herself.  Better check.  Sands reached out with his right hand to see how much of a lump she had, but Tess jerked away, pressing herself against the wall.  "Ok, I know that I've hit you once, but I was also on medications and had just received some disturbing news.  Unless you're planning to tell me that the cartel is now under your leadership, I think I can guarantee that I won't hurt you."  Her breath left in a huff, but she submitted to his examination, flinching in pain as he probed the lump on her head. 

   "There's no need for torture, Sands."  There's no need for any of this.  "Look, just take what you want and get out of here.  I won't fight."

   Why do I get the feeling that the intelligence on her wasn't complete? Sands wondered.  Most normal women don't volunteer to submit while a man rapes them.  Which is not how this is going to end.  No matter how much he wanted to pay Tess back for . . . for everything, he didn't have the stomach for that.  Besides, the entire point was to get her to trust him, and for him to then betray that trust.  The plan may have to be put on hold for a bit.  "Well, as interesting and gracious as that is, I'm afraid that it just won't do."

   Ah.  Finally a reaction.  Tess looked up, started and confused by this statement.  The moment her eyes met his, he felt his own bolt of surprise jolt through him.  When she'd said her eyes were blue, she hadn't been kidding, and black and white photos didn't do them justice.  He'd seen Barillo's eyes - they'd been blue, but more of a grey-blue.  Tessa's eyes were a deep blue, the contrast startling against her dusky skin.  And at the moment, they were full of confusion and a hint of turmoil.

   Tess knew the moment her eyes met his, that she'd made a gigantic mistake.  It was shocking enough to see eyes where once there'd been nothing but gaping wounds.  That those eyes were a dark shade of chocolate brown, the same color she'd always wished her eyes were . . . it was too much.  She felt the desperation and panic inside her melt and reform into something else - something with her voice at the center.

   You know, he really is quite attractive.

   Yes.

   Tess was staring at him in much the same way a mongoose might stare at a cobra - if the mongoose were demented enough to consider allying with a poisonous snake.  Maybe he wouldn't have to postpone his plan after all.  "I have a deal for you, niña."

   Deals with demons . . .

   The most interesting kind.  Listen to the man.

   I don't think that's a good idea.

   You don't think anything's a good idea.  I want to have some fun.

   I'm the one who'll have to deal with the consequences.

   Yeah, but I'm the one who'll have to listen to you whine.  Shut up and listen.

   "What kind of deal?"

   Ah.  His niña was scowling at him.  And perhaps if he had thought that she meant it, he would have been upset.  "It's simple really.  You give me one kiss and if you still want me to leave after that, I will."  Crap, he couldn't wait to get her into bed.  Couldn't wait to fuck her senseless.

   Ok . . . how much can one kiss change things? Tess wondered. 

   It won't.  It won't change a thing.  Just do it and get the man out of your hair, if that's what you really want.  Her eyes darted down to glance at his lips, then returned to meet his gaze.  She examined his eyes for any hint that he was trying to trick her, but she couldn't read him.  His face gave nothing away, his eyes just watched her with amusement as if he really couldn't care less what happened next.

   Touch him.  Tess reached out hesitantly, withdrawing her hand before actually touching his skin.  She remembered what it felt like.  You remember, but is it still the same?  Swallowing hard, she brushed the tips of her fingers against his temple - yes, his skin was still soft and warm.  Her hand seemed to take on a life of its own as she watched, transfixed as her fingertip traced the ridge of bone surrounded his eye socket.  Any bruising left from the surgery had long since faded, but she could imagine what it would have looked like.  Her eyes drifted to his lips again.

   "Just a kiss?"  Was that my voice? she wondered as she stroked the sensitive skin just below his bottom lip. 

   Sands wondered who she was trying to fool.  Yes, she sounded uncertain and more than a bit helpless, but he could see her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, could see her increased heart-rate shaking her body.  Could feel the heat radiating from her lithe body.  Could hear the very reluctant desire in her voice.

   "Stop playing, niña.  If you keep teasing any longer, the deal will be off."  She knew that was true, could hear a note of strained control in his voice.  One could only push a man so far before his control snapped, and she had no desire to see that happen.  There was just one problem - she'd never been the first one to make a move before.  Yeah, she'd been kissed once or twice (which was really pretty sad for a woman of thirty-one), but the guy had always been the one to start things.  Sands was going to know she had next to no experience, and he was going to laugh at her.

   "I'm waiting, Tessa."  Gathering her resolve, she pulled his head down an inch or so and raised her face to meet his.  It was a gentle kiss, hesitant and sexy.  The moment she felt his lips meet hers softly, something in her snapped, sending her mental platform listing to one side.  Her internal balance thrown off, she felt the rational side of her mind collide with the bit that was always pushing her, always whispering, always making suggestions.  It leaped at the chance to grab hold of her, not necessarily taking control, but definitely reveling in the opportunity to spread its influence and transmit its own desires.

   Before she knew what she was doing, Tess had tilted her head, parting her lips to tease his.  At some point, her decision to ask him to go changed.  Now all she wanted was for him to stay, to chase off some of the loneliness and continual guilty isolation.  As she placed soft, suckling kisses on his mouth, she wondered, Why isn't he doing anything?  Mildly annoyed, she slid one hand into his hair - it was tied back.  Always making things difficult.  Leaning closer so their bodies were separated by only a thin strip of air, she worked with deft fingers to remove the hair tie.  She knew she'd succeeded when she felt his hair fall down around her hand.  Never before had she found long hair on a man sexy, but on him it worked.

   Sexy?  What?  For a moment time froze.  Tess was aware of the conflicts inside her own mind; of the part demanding the feel of Sands' body on top of hers, of the part screaming warnings that was rapidly diminishing, and of the part watching the chaos in pleasure.  She started to shake.  What am I doing?

   Pleasure . . . her voice whispered, tormented.  This feels good, not like the last time.  I want this.  Pleasure and warmth.  I've never felt that, and you deny me the opportunity.  Well, I'm a part of you, and if I want this, then you want it too.  Without you, I can't feel this.  Just give in.  Sands isn't the type of man to stick around for more than a night, it persuaded.  Just this once and he'll leave and I promise to never bring him up again.  Just one night. 

   Tess felt herself agree, give in.  To her surprise, her other side still didn't take control.  Rather, it held her close, clinging to her, desperate to feel . . . to feel human.  She heard a whimper escape her as for a single moment, the sensation of feeling things twice over became nearly unbearable.  But the pleasing anguish faded, leaving her just Tess, just kneeling in a hallway, just kissing a man like she'd never done so before.

   Sands was trying very hard not to slam Tess back against the wall and end this rather delightful torture.  No.  He had planned her downfall, had planned what he would do to make her beg and plead for him to finally dominate her, thereby filling the need he'd created.  Yes, stick to the plan.  You in control, not her.  Never her, not again.  He pulled away from her gentle yet incredibly arousing ministrations.  "That's enough bambina.  I think I can take it from here."

*****************************************************************

Quotes: none for this chapter, amazingly enough.  They're coming in the next though, I promise.  You're free to send me any that you have lying around, because you never know where I can use it.

Author Thanks:

For chapter 26 of 'More Than Eyes Alone Can See' - Merrie, thai, Digital Diamond, kontara, Aurelius, C.J. Davis, gee, Satisdee (who had to bump me up to 200), The Flaming Chia Pet, Pixy, Lorelei Lee, Nefarious Coda, sue, and fiondra.

For chapter 1 of 'More Than Life' - Merrie (who 'cheated' to get the opportunity to beta.  Girl, you know you would have seen it all anyway.  ^_^); Isola (oh, I loved that prologue too.  It was so much fun to write.); Digital Diamond (you're doing an excellent job on keeping my characterizations of Crazy!Tess on the straight and narrow since this is all coming out of my twisted little head.); Kontara (yes, assignments are fun, especially when it means that I can do whatever I want.  Wait, I could already do that.  Well, SJ will get to kill people, so that'll be fun.); Aurelius (that's alright as long as I know you're reading.  Please let me know if you want any of the 'extras' though.); Nimwen (thanks.  I hope you can adjust to Sands having eyes again.  As for flair and brilliance, one of my betas assures you that you're going to love the next chapter.); Satisdee (yeah, I wasn't really seeing that either.  But since he had an excuse to track her down . . . *grins*  And yes, your suggestion of a name change was taken to heart and debated, and put into effect.  So, the title is for you, chica.); The Flaming Chia Pet (rated 'R' versions, eh?  ^_^  Not a problem.  Expect those a day or so after I post. Gotta give you time to review.  ^_^); Pixy (just you wait until the next chapter.  Let's say there will be ample time for Tess to 'freak right out.'  Hope your impatience is settled a bit.); and Blank (SJ is definitely ready for action.  Sooner or later I'll even let him start killing people again.  ^_^  Characterizations?  Well, I certainly hope all works out, but then again, I've got three betas and all my reviews to help me with that.);

And my new reviewers: Teresa (wow!  Your name matches my OC's!  That's so cool.  I'm glad that you're liking this story so much.); grace (I try to be as realistic as possible and still do whatever I want with my storyline.  SJ and Tess together?  That would be the goal.  Happy?  Well, irritating the heck out of each other is more realistic in my eyes.  And no problem with sending you the unedited versions.); Dreamgirl21147 (thank you.); Lauren (thank you.  I'm glad you like 'Eyes' and I hope this one lives up to it.)