She smiled up at him. "Rawlins," she said with a satisfied sigh, "You don't get out enough."

He lay down beside her, holding her in his arms. "I'm just so glad you're back."

"Rawlins, we're locked in a bomb shelter," she said.

"I see that." But all he saw was her, her wonderful face and eyes and lips, and her silken body next to his. He took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.

"It appears there's a timer built into the door."

"I understand the concept," he said. He didn't dare let himself think about the fact that they were trapped, powerless to do anything about their baby or the world outside that steel door. He didn't know how much time they had. Only that they had it together. He didn't plan to spend that time worrying about what could have been or losing his mind over something he could do nothing about.

"The door isn't going to open until that timer goes off," she said. "And maybe not even then."

"Uh-huh." He ran his fingers from her palm up the inside of her arm to her elbow.

"You don't seem too upset about that."

"Holly, I'd break down that door for you if I could. Since I can't..." He spooned her against him as he ran his fingers from her shoulder, down the long slope of her waist and up over her hip. "I spent the last year dreaming about having you in my arms again. Now that I do...I just want to make love to you until that door opens."

"What if it never opens?" she asked, sounding a little breathless as she turned in his arms to met his gaze.

He grinned. "I think you know the answer to that one." He drew her to him again.

HE WOKE with a start, not sure at first what had roused him from a sated sleep. The first thing he felt was Holly's warm body curled in his arms. Before that, he'd thought he'd only been dreaming. But it all came back in a flash and instinctively, he pulled her closer as he looked around to see what had awakened him.

He'd forgotten they were locked in a bomb shelter. He'd even forgotten to worry whether or not there was sufficient air. His plan had been to make love to Holly until h.e.l.l froze over. Or until they completely ran out of air in this steel-lined concrete box. Or until the door opened.

He sat up.

"What is it?" Holly asked sleepily.

"The door," he whispered. "It's open."

Chapter Fourteen.

December 27 Holly sat up, drawing the blanket over her nakedness as she stared out into the dark beyond the open door. Without a word, Rawlins handed her her clothes and motioned for her to follow him. She half expected Dr. Delaney to appear at any moment in the opening. Or that the door would suddenly slam shut before they could reach it.

Neither happened. She hurried out of the bomb shelter to find a set of stairs leading up. Slade was pulling on his jeans. She quickly dressed and, taking the hand he offered her, let him lead her up the stairs, tiptoeing, quiet as mice.

The house seemed too quiet as Slade pushed open a door and they came out in the laundry room.

They stood for a moment, Slade obviously listening, his gaze warm on hers as if reminded of what they'd just shared. As if she could ever forget it.

She could see her own emotions mirrored in his eyes. Disbelief that they had found each other again. Fear that they might lose everything in the next few minutes. And hope, hope that they would still find their baby.

"My gun might still be in the den," he whispered.

She nodded, unsettled by the quiet of the house.

Up here, they could hear the howl of the wind outside, but nothing more. Where were the cops? Surely whoever Slade had called had gotten the message by now.

He motioned for her to follow him. As if she'd let him out of her sight for an instant if she could help it.

They moved through the darkness of the house, the white of the snowstorm giving them enough light through the undrawn drapes to navigate around the furniture and realized that it was a new day.

As they drew near the den, Holly felt a chill, as if there was a draft. The door to the den was partially open. Slade gave it a little shove, keeping back as though he thought he'd find Dr. Delaney waiting there with a weapon trained on them.

But Dr. Delaney wasn't sitting in the big chair by the fireplace. Nor behind the ma.s.sive desk. Nor in the chairs she and Slade had occupied before.

Holly looked down and saw something at her feet that set her heart hammering. "Rawlins," she whispered, terror in her voice. She pointed to the floor and the b.l.o.o.d.y partial footprint on the hardwood.

He quickly found another print, then another. They led down the hall toward the front door. She followed him and the prints, the air growing colder, the b.l.o.o.d.y footprints more distinct.

The front door was ajar. Dr. Delaney lay sprawled in a pool of blood at its base, his left arm caught in the door as if he'd tried to keep it from closing behind his killer.

"Oh, G.o.d," Holly cried as Slade knelt beside the doctor's inert body.

"Is he...?"

"Yeah, he's dead. He's been shot. I would suspect with my gun." Slade stood and turned to look at her.

"Why kill Delaney?" she whispered. "He was one of them, right?" A thought hung suspended between them. "Why didn't he tell them we were in the bomb shelter?"

She watched Slade open the door with the sleeve of his shirt, hesitate, then close it again. "My pickup's gone."

He checked Delaney's pockets then moved past her, headed back toward the den.

She followed him, not saying the one thing she knew they both were thinking. If these people would kill Dr. Delaney, what would they do to the little baby girl Holly had given birth to? "Rawlins, we have to call the police," she said as she followed him into the den.

"We can't, Holly," he said as he began to go through the desk drawers. "Even if they believed that we were locked in the bomb shelter at the time Delaney was killed, they'd hold us for questioning. It could take hours."

And they didn't have hours. That's what he was thinking.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"Keys to Delaney's Suburban, my weapon, any weapon," he answered, not looking up.

He slammed the drawers and headed for a set of cabinets on the opposite wall. She grabbed his sleeve as he started past. He cupped her cheek in his hand and she leaned into it, grasping his wrist, needing to feel the steady beat of his pulse, to a.s.sure herself they were still alive and there was still hope of finding their baby alive as well.

"I'll help you look," she said, letting him go. She could hear the police scanner now, turned so low the sound was like a moan. The room was warm, but she hugged herself for a moment to chase off the chill, then began to look around on top of the desk for Delaney's keys to keep from thinking about who had killed him and what those people would do next. Or why they hadn't come down to the bomb shelter and killed her and Slade. Several answers presented themselves. Either the killers hadn't known the two of them were down there. Or they couldn't get the door open.

If it was the latter, then they might be back to finish the job. She watched Slade search the drawers of the desk, noticing the way he used his shirtsleeve, leaving no prints, realizing they were both wanted now. Him by the law. Her by monsters and mad psychiatrists.

Her gaze was drawn to another sound in the room. The computer. It was on. Using her sleeve to cover her fingers, she touched the mouse.

The screen flashed on. She stared at the words typed there and said, "Rawlins, you'd better come here."

He was at her side in an instant.

"Look. I think it's a confession." It appeared Delaney had started to type it before he was killed. Whoever had murdered him must not have realized it because the computer had gone into standby mode, the screen dark.

"What the-" Slade read the words aloud.

To Whom It May Concern: In 1935, Hitler established a semi-secret breeding program called Lebensborn Lebensborn meaning the Fountain of Life. The main function of meaning the Fountain of Life. The main function of Lebensborn Lebensborn was to provide racially ideal women for breeding to members of the SS and other selected men. Women were kidnapped and children were separated from parents. Some children were rejected. Some were placed with other families and were brainwashed to believe they were the offspring of these parents. was to provide racially ideal women for breeding to members of the SS and other selected men. Women were kidnapped and children were separated from parents. Some children were rejected. Some were placed with other families and were brainwashed to believe they were the offspring of these parents.

Slade stopped reading to glance over at Holly, his eyes dark and troubled.

She nodded and swallowed as he continued, Hitler's programs put the government in the position of controlling people's s.e.x lives. "We regulate relations between the s.e.xes. We form the child," Hitler proclaimed. Selection, breeding and elimination was the key.For more than thirty years, there has been a modern-day Lebensborn Lebensborn operating right here, only its methods are much more efficient, much more covert and insidious. Using the brainwashing techniques his father had initiated, Dr. Allan Wellington started his own superior breed. He formed a microcosm of what could be if babies were born only to the best possible couples. His sights were on the future of mankind. It wasn't until I became involved with Carolyn Gray that I learned the extent of Dr. Welling- operating right here, only its methods are much more efficient, much more covert and insidious. Using the brainwashing techniques his father had initiated, Dr. Allan Wellington started his own superior breed. He formed a microcosm of what could be if babies were born only to the best possible couples. His sights were on the future of mankind. It wasn't until I became involved with Carolyn Gray that I learned the extent of Dr. Welling- The cursor blinked. The rest of the screen was blank.

"Sweet heaven," Slade whispered.

All Holly could do was stare at the screen. She wanted to scream, to cry. "What does this mean? Is he saying our child was part of some experiment to create a master race? Or one of the ones rejected?" Eliminated?

Slade shook his head as he pulled her to him and stroked her hair.

"But Allan is dead! How could he..."

"I don't know, Holly."

She pulled back to look at him. Of course, he was as stunned and scared as she was-and just as shocked by the possible ramifications. For more than thirty years? Slade's mother had been part of the Genesis Project. So had Holly. But at least his mother hadn't married the crazy doctor. But Holly had! Even if it had only been for a few days. She realized how lucky she was that he'd died when he had. How had had she gotten that lucky? It seemed almost too convenient. She shivered. she gotten that lucky? It seemed almost too convenient. She shivered.

"I'm not sure what any of this means," Slade said, "But let's not jump to conclusions, all right?"

She wished that were possible. She watched him move back to the cabinets he hadn't searched yet, unable to keep from thinking of babies that were deemed unacceptable.

Slade opened a cabinet and froze.

"What is it?" she asked, deathly afraid to find out.

He turned slowly, and she saw the mask he held in his hand. She recognized the monster face from the night of her delivery. "Delaney was one of them."

He threw down the mask. "Let's get out of here. If I have to, I'll hot-wire Delaney's Suburban." He stopped and turned to look back at her, realizing she wasn't following him.

She was still standing behind the desk staring at the words Delaney had written. Her movements seemed jerky as if she'd been somewhere cold for too long as she hit Print, then Save, and waited. When the machine finished printing, she folded the sheet and stuck it in her coat pocket and turned off the computer.

Only then did she look at him. "I'm ready."

SLADE WATCHED her movements. Cold, calculating, a hardness in her expression. An anger. A resolve. He recognized it because he felt it just as strongly as she did. Holly was a fighter, and he was thankful for that. A weaker woman wouldn't have made it this far.

He couldn't even comprehend the extent of the Genesis Project. For thirty years these people had been playing G.o.d. He concentrated on only one thought: stopping them. He held little hope of getting their baby girl back. He couldn't shake the horrible feeling that if it wasn't already too late-it would be soon.

Hadn't somebody once stated that the world will be saved by one or two people? He hoped he and Holly were enough. Then he realized, Allan Wellington had thought he was saving the world. Delaney and Carolyn Gray probably had thought they were, too.

Slade took Holly's hand as they pa.s.sed Dr. Delaney's body and stepped out into what had become a raging blizzard. Wind whirled the falling snow, pelting them with stinging ice crystals that felt more like sand. Ice-cold sand.

"The garage," Holly yelled over the wind. She motioned to the detached garage and the disappearing tracks that led from it.

Why would Delaney have put a vehicle in the garage?

Slade took Holly's hand and ran through the drifting snow and cold to the side door of the garage. He felt around, found the light switch and flicked on the garage lamp. His pickup was sitting there, ice and snow melting beneath it, the keys in the ignition.

"Maybe Delaney really did put us into the bomb shelter for our own good," Holly said. "Maybe he was trying to protect us. Hide us, just like he did the truck. But if he wanted to help us, why didn't he just call the police?" she said, echoing his very thought.

"Because he was guilty as h.e.l.l," Slade said, realizing Delaney might have been planning to confess on the computer then skip the country-leaving him and Holly the pickup and the confession.

He doubted they would ever know what Delaney really had planned for them. Holly climbed into the front seat of the pickup, and he hit the garage-door opener. He climbed behind the wheel. Delaney was dead. Carolyn Gray was out there somewhere. That still left one monster unmasked. Slade knew they had to find him-before the two remaining monsters found them.

He put the pickup in four-wheel drive and backed out into the storm.

Snow had drifted across the road, but he could still see distinct tracks where someone had broken a trail in-and out again. The elusive Carolyn Gray? Or the third monster? And what if there were others involved in this? How could there not be? And yet, he knew something like this couldn't have been kept a secret for more than thirty years unless only a select few knew.

"Rawlins?"

"Yeah?" He burst through the last drift and hit the snow-packed highway, headed for Evergreen Inst.i.tute. That's where the answers had to be. Someone had destroyed the lab. Trying to destroy evidence?

He glanced over at Holly when she didn't say any more, half afraid that he might have lost her again. "Holly?"

"I just remembered something. I was thinking about the bomb shelter...cold, damp, concrete places..." Her gaze swung to his in the glow of the dash lights. "I know where I delivered our baby!"

Chapter Fifteen.

It was late enough that the hospital parking lot was almost empty. Slade put his arm around Holly's shoulders as they hurried through the snowstorm to the front door.

The admitting nurse wasn't at her desk. As a matter-of-fact, all h.e.l.l seemed to be breaking loose. Holly saw Head Nurse Lander rush by, a grimace on her face. From down the hall came a familiar braying voice.

"Inez," Holly said, immediately moving toward the sound.

The door to Inez's room was open. Nurse Lander had pushed her way in and was trying to raise her voice higher than Inez's.