Tracks aren't made like this, Rafael. I see her boot tracks in the dirt, and farther on, a rock kicked over. There would be more obvious signs of her passing. She tried to convey to him what she meant, showing him memories of tracking animals.

Where are Juan and Julio? All of you should be armed and you should stay together. His voice hadn't changed, but she sensed his uneasiness.

They're on the way. She hoped it was true.

"Colby!" It was a cry, a plea, a small child seeking adult reassurance. She hadn't heard Paul use that voice since he was about six years old. She leapt to her feet and spun around to spot Paul. He staggered toward her, his face a pale, twisted mask of anguish. He dropped to one knee, burying his face in his hands.

Colby's mind went mercifully blank as she covered the distance between them in a flat run, flinging herself down beside him, drawing the lean, trembling body against her protectively. "Tell me, Paulo." Incredibly gentle, her voice still held a wealth of authority.

She felt Rafael go still, felt him wrap his arms around her to give her strength.

"The tracks, hers and his. I followed them. There's-there's a-a… " He broke off, sobbing wildly, tears coursing down his cheeks. He buried his face again in his hands, refusing to look at her.

Colby gripped his shoulders, shook him hard twice. "Tell me!" Fear was choking her, making it impossible to breathe. "Paul! For God's sake, did you find Ginny?"

Paul lifted his face, staring at her with haunted eyes. Colby held her breath. Rafael held his breath.

"Paul." Colby touched the tears on his face. "What is it?"

"A grave!" Paul shouted. "I found a grave."

There was a sudden silence. Shocked, Colby was completely still for a minute, the thudding of her heart slamming in her ears and a scream tearing up from her heart. "I won't believe it," she said, shoving him away, stumbling to her feet. Wait for me. Rafael redoubled his efforts for speed in spite his injuries. She was nearly hysterical. He should have taken the children's blood so he could know where they were at any given time. The thought of that small child hurt, perhaps dead, struck at his heart and soul until he wanted to echo Colby's silent scream.

Colby took off running in the direction Paul had come from. She saw the large boot prints where a heavy man had overtaken Ginny, the broken, bruised bushes where she'd struggled, the deeper imprint of the man's tracks as he'd carried her. The tracks twisted back into the shelter of a dead-end canyon. Off to the left, inbetween two large boulders, was a small mound, fresh earth piled up and more scattered around, small rocks placed carefully on top to prevent animals from digging it up.

Rafael. Rafael. Oh, God I think she's dead. Colby ran forward, screaming a denial, hurling the rocks away in a terrible fury, tearing at the earth with bare hands.

Do not do this yourself. I am so close, meu amor. Let me do it for you.

She didn't stop, couldn't stop until her fingers touched something solid. She stopped breathing, stopped thinking, her mind nearly numb. She became aware of everything then, the tears on her face, the dirt on her clothes, the material in her hands. Burlap. Reluctantly she pushed the remainder of the dirt away to uncover the sack.

I can't breathe, Rafael, I can't breathe. She was going to be sick.

"No, you are not." She hadn't even heard Rafael arrive. He was simply there beside her, a hand on her shoulder, his breath warm and reassuring against the nape of her neck. "Look closely at the bag, Colby."

She could barely see through her tears. Then she was sobbing aloud, wildly, uncontrollably, gratefully, joyously. "It's a hundred-pound sack of oats. Not Ginny. Oats." She turned around into the haven of his arms, buried her face against his chest, and cried with sheer relief.

"She's alive," Rafael said. "I scanned the area and there is something evil here, but she is alive. I feel her presence."

"Not Paul," she whispered, clutching at his shirt.

"Not Paul, querida," he confirmed, his hands gentle as he helped her to her feet.

Colby turned to look at Paul. He was several yards away, clutching a tree for support, his face buried on his arm. "It's not Ginny," she called. "It isn't her, Paul. It's a hoax. Thank God, it's a hoax."

Paul lifted his head, staring at her as if she was crazy, then he ran forward on trembling legs, stumbling over the uneven ground to see for himself. They clung together laughing hysterically, their relief so great they were a little crazy for a few moments.

Colby sobered first, reaching again for Rafael. It was only then that she really looked at him. His face was ravaged and raw from the deep claws of the vampire's mutated creatures. His shirt hung about him in dirty shreds, the skin of his chest angry and lacerated. Blood stained his shirt and seeped from his wounds. His eyes were red and swollen even in the early morning light, a testimony to his loss of strength.

He stood tall and straight and so torn up her tears began all over again. "Rafael, you shouldn't have come." He was so wounded, his great strength utterly diminished, yet still he had come to her aid. She bit her lip, wanting to touch him, wanting to hold him close and soothe the worst of his pain. "You don't even have dark glasses."

"And where are yours?" He took her hand, his thumb moving over her skin as if checking for burns or blisters.

"I don't know, I forgot them. I still have to find Ginny. I should have known. It was right there in front of me, but I was so frightened. That's what they were counting on. I'd be so scared I'd believe the obvious." She touched his face gently. "Rafael, you have to go back. There's Julio and Juan. I'm not alone now." She couldn't help herself, she wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him, careful of his wounds. "Thank you for wanting to be here for me."

"You must go to rest, Don Rafael," Juan said, dismounting. He took in the tracks, the opened grave and sack of oats. Rafael stood very close to Colby, a purely protective gesture. "Have you found young Ginny?"

Paul flung himself into Juan's arms. "I didn't do this. I know I didn't do this."

Rafael quieted him with a touch. "No, Paul, you didn't do this. There is a puppet at work here, a very evil being. I will not leave until the child is found. She is somewhere in that direction." He pointed back toward the area where Colby had been looking around for sign. "Juan, you and Julio get to higher ground and use the scopes. Make it look as if you're heading of the area to check the cattle."

You think someone is watching us," Paul said. "I don't understand this. Ginny's still missing; he must have her with him." Rafael nodded. "I do not think they are together. Ginny would fight to give his position away. I think the two of you are lured out here deliberately."

Paul met the red-rimmed eyes. "You think they want to hurt Colby. Can the vampire use me to hurt either of my sisters?"

"Paul," Colby objected.

Rafael put a restraining hand on the small of her back. "During daylight hours the vampire cannot give you any orders. He can program you ahead of time, but cannot continue to do so during the day. Nicolas is watching over you. I will not allow anything to happen to any of you."

Paul squared his shoulders. "What do you want me to do? This man has Ginny, we have to get her back."

Colby shook her head firmly. "No, she went off in the other direction. Somehow he lured her over there, I'm not sure, but we'll find her over that way. He erased her tracks and did a darned good job of it too."

"How?" Paul asked.

Colby shrugged. "All he had to do was wait for her to start for the spring and somehow get her to switch directions. Once she was out of sight, he got rid of her tracks on that side and any evidence that she'd passed that way. He left her tracks leading in this direction, covered them with his own, and smashed bushes to make it look like she struggled."