As Ceren's lips pressed hungrily against his, Kevlin tried to pull back. She held him stronger, her arms like iron bands. She kissed him hungrily, as if she'd yearned to do so forever. The heat of her passion was a heady thing.

Kevlin cared for Ceren. At one point he'd even fantasized about kissing her again. She should have made her move then, but she'd missed her chance. She was a trusted friend, but he didn't want her this way now.

Kevlin pushed harder. If she didn't back off, he'd have to hurt her. Her skin felt burning hot through the thin silk shift. The springtime scent surrounding her filled his nostrils, and she lunged against him, pressing him against the back of the narrow bench. Her warm lips tasted salty.

This was so wrong.

She wasn't Indira.

Indira's face flashed into his mind and he imagined what she'd say if she saw them like this. Kevlin shoved Ceren hard enough to bruise her, knocking her off the bench.

"Ceren, cut it out."

Ceren cried, "Stop thinking Kevlin and just kiss me. I need you, and together we can change the world."

"Start by changing your clothes." He tried to retreat around the bench, but she jumped into his arms and clung to him like a leech.

Ceren was many things, but she'd never acted desperate. Ceren teased or cajoled, and always confused. She never revealed her real purpose or clarified her comments when she left him confused and bewildered. She would never do this.

Kevlin forced himself ignore how she felt pressed against him, tried to tear his eyes away from that alluring outfit that acted like a visual magnet. He stumbled across the garden and finally pried her hands from around his neck. With a quick twist, he ducked under her arms and spun away.

"Ceren, calm down. You're not yourself."

Ceren stalked after him, but her gaze remained strangely downcast. Her hair hung in tangled waves across her face. It was a wonder she could see at all. "Tell me one thing, Kevlin."

"Anything you want, as long as you stay back."

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"Who killed Bajaran?"

"What?" That was a stupid question. She really had gone mad.

Ceren crouched several feet away, her hands wide. "Who killed Bajaran?" she repeated.

"I told you. Rhea did."

"Who was Rhea's master?"

"Masego."

"Where is Tia Khoa?"

"You know I can't tell you."

"That's not good enough." Ceren started forward again. "I love you, Kevlin. You have to tell me. It's the only way to make things different."

Kevlin retreated toward the stairs. He needed other witnesses, although he cringed to think of Ceren walking in public in that outfit. It was her choice. He wouldn't allow her to keep him trapped down here to protect her image.

"Ceren, what's wrong with you?"

"I love you! Tell me!"

"No."

Ceren snarled like an animal and charged. Kevlin dodged her attack, but she chased him and lunged a second time.

He grabbed her arms, wrestling her for control. After a moment he managed to twist her arms behind her back. The feel of her pressed against him no longer tempted him. She must be suffering some kind of mental sickness. He hoped it wasn't contagious.

He'd look ridiculous trying to slip into an outfit like that. He shuddered to even consider it.

After a moment of intense struggle, Ceren suddenly sagged against him. She whispered, "You have to tell me. Please, you have to help me."

Kevlin was relieved that she seemed to be regaining her composure. Somehow they'd work this mess out. Crazy was definitely not attractive.

"I want to help you." Kevlin released her hands and, when she didn't lunge at him again, brushed the hair from her face. "Ceren, I don't think you're well. You know I can't tell you."

For the first time that evening, Ceren looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes, normally lovely emerald green, looked black in the twilight of the garden.

Kevlin recoiled. That was definitely not good.

Ceren lashed out and yanked his belt dagger from its sheath. She snarled, "Then the only way you can help is to die for me."

"Whoa! What are you doing?" Kevlin grabbed for the dagger.

Ceren side-stepped his hands like a cat and drove the dagger toward his heart. He twisted and flung out a hand to block the surprise attack. The dagger scraped along his forearm, leaving a trail of blood that burned like living fire.

Kevlin retreated, but Ceren gave chase and slashed the dagger across his side. It scraped along his chain mail with a wicked screech.

She was in earnest. She really meant to kill him. Whatever insanity plagued her, he had to disarm her quickly or she might really hurt him.

Kevlin blocked her next strike with his arm and managed to avoid getting cut this time. Then he reversed direction and surprised her by closing. He caught her hand and they struggled for control of the dagger.

Ceren kneed Kevlin between the legs.

That wasn't sick. That was pure evil. So much for loving him.

His vision went black and he convulsed with agony. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. He collapsed to the short-cropped grass.

The first thing he noticed was the waterfall. Somehow he'd lost track of a couple of seconds.

Ceren stood above him, dagger raised high. With an ear-numbing shriek, she drove the dagger down at his heart with all her strength.