Street lights lit the darkness as she stood by the curb staring up at the imposing tower of red brick. Trepidation engulfed her body as if drowning.

The doorman stood waiting at the double glass doors leading inside the hotel. But she remained rooted in fear, waiting for the courage to overcome the terror gripping her. A heartless monster waited inside anticipating her arrival. Logic told her to run away as fast and far as possible. Escape while she could. The likelihood of warning anyone was foolishness. But if she didn't try, the guilt would plague her. The other man's life depended on it. The prompting from her conscience forced her to take the first step.

Her window of opportunity was slim at best, but she had to make an effort.

The uniformed doorman greeted her with a tip of his hat. He grabbed the brass handle with his gloved hand and pulled it open. She nodded, stepping past, and kept her eyes fixed straight ahead on the lobby. The sound of her high heels clicking against the polished marble floor echoed in the vast room as she walked towards the staircase. Behind the receiving desk, the desk clerk glanced her way but returned his attention to a stunning blonde the moment her hand covered his sleeve.

Voices pitched above outdated music drifted down from the balcony, causing her eyes to follow the sound flowing from the open ballroom doors. A sequence of smoke rings caught her attention as they floated towards a crystal chandelier hanging near the staircase. She looked to see the source. A man stood alone in the shadows—watching her.

The stench of tobacco, mixed with the cloying scent of flowers from the lobby, intensified the nauseating panic she struggled to control. Her cold, damp hand wrapped around the icy brass handrail as she began to climb the wide staircase willing her legs onward with each step. With a forceful grip on her emotions, she continued towards her destination.

Smoke rings blown her way caused her to glance in his direction. The man's eyes were drawn tight, lips firm. He stood with a hand resting on his hip, spreading his dinner jacket to reveal his holstered gun.

She jerked her eyes away in reaction, continuing on, but the sound of his mocking laughter followed sending chills down her spine. Survival had taught her to hide emotions because any sign of fear had always fed the beast. Any beast.

She paused at the threshold, searching. People dressed in evening wear mingled in groups standing in the aisles between tables dressed in white. On the dance floor, couples swayed to slow, sensual music under dim lighting. It seemed like a normal party, except for the armed bodyguards scattered among the guests— intently surveying the surroundings.

The man she came to warn stood among friends not far away, but the beast she had hoped to avoid was closer. This soulless devil had his eyes pinned to her. While she had the opportunity, she began to make her way through the tables, hoping she could get there without the monster making a scene in front of all these people.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him raise his hand to signal someone. It wasn't necessary to look. The man from the balcony had obviously followed her inside.

With time running out, she quickened her steps drawing closer to her target. The armed guard suddenly appeared in front of her. She darted in another direction, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Desperate to gain her freedom, she tried to jerk free, clawing at his hand to break away, but his fingers clamped in a vice-like grip.

She considered screaming, but the approaching monster froze her throat as well as the fight to free her arm. His deadly expression stole all hope of success. With every step he took, the threat he presented increased.

Those calculating eyes shifted to the man she wished to warn. If he had been watching what had he seen? She didn't dare look. It was much too late to help anyone... not even herself.

The monster stepped close and bent down to within inches of her face. His jaw clamped tight as he growled, "I want a private word with you on the balcony."

The bodyguard released her arm and stepped back as soon as her adversary reached out to grab her wrist. With a jerk, he pulled her behind him back the way she had come. To avoid being dragged, she hurried along while trying to gain her freedom from his tight grasp. He shot a warning glare and tightened his grip.

They stepped through the open balcony doors and the bodyguard quickly closed them from prying eyes. She searched for help, or a witness to keep him from violence, but they were alone except for his hired gunman.

His hands grabbed her upper arms roughly shoving her against the railing. She felt it burrow into her hip as he leaned even closer to put his scowling face up close to hers.

"You never learn. No matter how many times you're warned, you continue to dig into my affairs. This time you went too far." He shook her with vehemence, slamming her hips against the metal, and then with a guttural growl, shoved her—hard.

In the next moment, she felt nothing but air surrounding her as she fell.

*

SHARON WOKE TO THE sound of her own scream. Jerking upright, forcing coherency, she drew her legs to her chest and began rocking while clutching her arms tightly to her body. Silent tears streamed from her eyes as the realism of the fall caused her to gulp erratically for air. The nightmare made no sense. Why did it plague her?

As a child, the dreams came in bits and pieces, collecting over a period of years. In the beginning, she saw the glass doors trimmed in brass, then the wide staircase leading to a balcony. But one night, she stood at the railing looking down from the balcony. She felt as if she'd fall. In one dream she'd had a close call, but woke. When she had, she knew she would have seen the fall. Another time the dream revealed a ballroom.

Each step had taken her closer to a more complete story. Now it wouldn't stop.