She came to a determined stop just inside the house. Alan bolted the door without a word, then turned on a light and disappeared down the steps to his bedroom. Esti stood rigidly against the door, studying his living room with narrowed eyes. His beautiful, organic house had become a prison. Waterproof plastic containers stood in stacks before empty bookshelves and the bare rock wall; the enormous wooden doors to the porch were barred shut.

When Alan reappeared several minutes later, he wore dry clothes and carried a large cardboard box. He hadn’t bothered with a mask. He gave Esti a grim look as he crossed the room to drop the box beside her. Her last name and Manchicay’s address were written in large letters on the top, next to an airline tag.

“You may find some clothes in here,” Alan said. “I haven’t gone through it, so I’m not sure what it contains.”

“You’re lying.” Esti clenched her fists. “You found my dad’s book in there.”

“I have never lied to you,” he said coldly. “The book was on top. When Ma Harris delivered the box last summer, neither of us knew you had arrived on Cariba. I had received many packages from Legard, and in my wildest dreams, I never guessed you would come here. Ma Harris assumed the box was for me when her brother brought it home from the airport.”

Of course. Domino worked in the freight area of the airport.

“Legard’s death was a devastating blow. I couldn’t bring myself to open the box until after I met you, and I immediately closed it when I realized it was yours. But . . .”

He turned away. “By then I couldn’t bear to part with it. I thought it might be the only piece of you I would ever have.”

He climbed the steps to the kitchen, leaving Esti alone with her box. She had forgotten what she packed, but she finally found a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt. Alan remained silent above her as she tucked everything else back into the box and trudged down to the bathroom cave.

She took her time, dumping her Juliet costume in a soggy pile on the stone floor. Faint pounding from the distant sea cave echoed in the quiet room as she changed into dry clothes. She ignored the bone-deep sounds, concentrating on scrubbing her face with soap and water until she felt no more traces of greasy makeup.

Removing Juliet’s cap, she untangled her hair as well as she could with her fingers, then resolutely made her way back up to the living room. As she climbed the stairs, she smelled rain against the stone walls of the house. The storm had grown outside, gusting now against the big porch doors and the high shuttered window in the kitchen. Rafe had told her a hurricane could whip up hundred-mile-an-hour winds within a few minutes when the storm finally hit.

Alan leaned against the wall of boulders, watching her and waiting. She studied his terrible face for a long time before she finally spoke.

“So,” she said. “You’ve given me back my belongings. Does this mean you no longer need just a piece of me, since you’ve stolen all of me?”

He cringed and closed his eyes.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Her breathing sped up as she finally voiced her fear. “You killed Paul, didn’t you?”

Alan flinched, but he didn’t deny it.

“Did his death make your unhappy life better? Or Greg? What about Mr. Niles! Tell me, Alan,” she said in a shaky voice, “did you do something to make Danielle sick before the Christmas show? What about Steve’s locker?”

He still didn’t reply.

“Don’t you realize how much you hurt me,” she whispered, “how much you terrify me, when you hurt other people?”

He opened his eyes again, staring at her with an expression she couldn’t read.

She forced her breathing back under control. “I don’t understand why you brought me here,” she said. “Tell me what our story will be. Are we finished with Shakespeare?”

She took a step toward him as wind rattled the shutters. “Maybe you were hoping for a fairy tale. Beauty, trapped by the Beast with no hope of escape. But you’ve shown me how to sneak past your cay’s vicious traps, and Rafe taught me how to swim. You can’t hold me here forever. I truly believed you were honorable, but what I see is a coward.”

“A coward!” he finally snapped. “Yes, perhaps I am a coward.”

Esti stumbled back in fear as he shoved himself away from the wall, breathing hard.

“You were right, it’s not difficult to despise cowardice.” His voice rang flat over the storm. “So teach me, dear creature, how to think and speak. Tell me what I’m to do when people shrink from me in loathing. Teach me how I’m supposed to feel, when the only gift I have to offer is fear. No one will touch me, not even Legard, who gave me so much.”

His breathing filled the room, harsh and painful. “Only you, Esti, ever sought out my company for no other reason than to be with me. You’re the only one who has ever held my hand. Shall I tell you how Niles hid backstage in the dark, trying to catch me by surprise? I was scattering frangipani blossoms for you to find onstage, when he turned on the lights from the wings. Every light in the house, to keep me from hiding in the darkness. I merely looked at him. I didn’t even move before he fled across the stage and broke his own leg.”

Esti slowly nodded.

“Steve brought about his own end. Perhaps I hastened it into the light with an anonymous note to the headmaster, but I did nothing wrong. I took thorough steps to ensure that Danielle’s discomfort would be far less than the suffering she caused you over the semester. And then there’s Paul Wilmuth.” Alan slowly approached her. “Shall I tell you how I killed Paul Wilmuth?”

She couldn’t even swallow, her throat paralyzed with fear.

“I saw you practicing that morning. Your first day at Manchicay School. An unexpected miracle from the only man I ever respected; the fulfillment of a dream I didn’t even know I had. For twenty minutes I watched you play Juliet to my empty theater, and I fell in love. And then Paul interrupted you.”

The blue eyes had pinned her, and she couldn’t look away.

“When you left the stage, I came out of hiding and stared at him as he crawled up to the catwalk. I couldn’t comprehend why he would stop you, how he could laugh at you. I looked at him, Esti. And when he saw me looking at him, the sight sent him plunging from the catwalk in fear. That’s how I killed him.”

Alan took a deep, controlled breath. “Even you, my beloved Esti, screamed when you saw my face. So please tell me how to enjoy other people’s happiness, when all I am allowed to give is terror.”

Esti couldn’t talk. She felt like he’d punched her in the stomach, like she felt when Mr. Thornton called him Fishface on the telephone. For a moment only the howling wind laughed at Alan’s words, then she heard a sound at the front door.

“Esti, you in there?”

“Rafe!”

Alan grabbed her arm as she lunged toward the door. “My lady allowed him here?” he said in disbelief.

The pounding changed over the wind. Rafe must have heard her, and he threw his body against the bolted door in an attempt to break it down. Alan’s fingers tightened as Esti struggled to pull away.

“Let him in,” she cried. “The storm will kill him.”

“So it will.” Alan’s eyes became expressionless again. “She protects me after all. He won’t find his way back to the caves now. The hurricane is on us.”

“You can’t leave him out there.” Esti was horrified.

“If he’s foolish enough to challenge my lady, he deserves his fate.”

“He’s here to save me.”

“Rafe Solomon is not my responsibility,” Alan said quietly, “even if he finds it necessary to save you from me.”

Esti glared at him. “If he dies, I’ll never forgive you. Never.”

He was still gripping her arm, and as the roar of the wind rose to a new pitch, she grabbed his free hand.

“Open the door,” she begged. “Whatever you want from me, I’ll give it to you.”

For a moment Alan didn’t answer.

“Please!”

He clenched his jaw. “Marry me.”

She felt her heart stop. His obsession shouldn’t have surprised her by now, yet the shock reached all the way through her core.

She looked at his face. Surely she would get used to the sight of him; she would someday be able to look at him without flinching. She had sworn his appearance didn’t matter to her; she’d dreamed of kissing him, before she pulled off his mask. Now his blue eyes dared her to fulfill her rash promises.

The thrashing outside the door had already weakened against the fury of the storm. Esti felt any control she’d ever had over her life yanked away from her and tossed by the catapult into the violent winds. Control meant nothing. She controlled nothing. Life and tragedy were random, their victims chosen on a whim.

Her heart thumped again, slowly and painfully. “Okay,” she said. “I will.”

Alan didn’t hesitate. Pulling away, he strode across the room. He braced himself, holding the door in both hands to unbolt it. Despite his caution, the door ripped away from him, slamming against the wall. Rafe landed on his hands and knees inside the house, his flashlight skittering across the stone floor.

Esti staggered back against the couch from the force of the wind. Alan fought to close the door, and she scrambled forward again to help him. The instant the wind let up, she pushed against the heavy door with all her strength. Alan managed to bolt it again, just as a new gust battered the side of the house with renewed fury.

Esti turned to see Rafe rising to his feet, soaked and exhausted. His filthy clothes trailed leaves and thorny vines. As she took a terrified step toward him, however, Alan stopped her with his hand.

“Don’t touch him,” he commanded. She shrank back against the door.

“You would dare—” Rafe began furiously.

“You’re covered with manchineel.”

Esti stared at Rafe with new fear as Alan reached down with gloved fingers to pick up a small oval leaf from the floor, a single pale vein splitting its length in perfect symmetry.

“I see you got lost after you left the caves,” he said. “If Esti touches you, the toxic sap will be on her as well. Is that what you want?”

Rafe’s face, still swollen from the fight, contorted with anger. “I’ll deal with you, then,” he said. “You’ve earned some manchineel sap.”

“Perhaps I have.” Alan’s bitter laugh knifed into Esti. “Believe me, you can do nothing that my lady hasn’t accomplished a thousandfold. For Esti’s sake, I will spare you the same fate. At the bottom of the stairs”—he pointed—“is a shower. I recommend you wash yourself quickly, before you begin to blister. Esti doesn’t need a second monster vying for her attention.”

He laughed again at Rafe’s expression. “No doubt you didn’t envision your heroic rescue ending like this.”

Rafe turned to Esti in disbelief, and she met his gaze as steadily as she could.

“Go,” she said. “Hurry.”

But he didn’t move. “Has he hurt you?” he demanded. He glanced at Alan again, his eyes narrowing. “Did he touch you?”

“Of course not.” The words dropped woodenly from her mouth. If she allowed a single emotion to slip through, she would shatter. “Please wash off the manchineel before it scars you.”

Rafe studied Alan’s scarred, scaly face. “Your skin disease has nothing to do with manchineel,” he finally said. “Esti told me you inherited it.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked across the living room. He slammed his fist against the wall as he started down the steps.

Esti forced herself to look at Alan. Part of her wanted to throw herself at his feet in gratitude for saving Rafe and sparing him from the manchineel. Another part wanted to lash out at Alan for trapping her into a promise she couldn’t believe she’d made. But she was taken aback by the intense gleam in his eyes.

“Exactly what do you know about my skin disease being inherited?” His voice held a strange note she’d never heard before.

She took a shaky breath. “I think it was made worse by manchineel burns you got as a baby. But you told me you were haunted by your own blood, and Edward Thornton said—”

“Edward Thornton?” His voice became brittle.

The expression in his eyes frightened her and she involuntarily stepped back. “When I called Boothsby Hall—”

“How dare you!” He grabbed her arm, his words wrapping around her like a whip. “You have no right to dig up my past. What else did you find out about me?”

“No, how dare you.” Esti wrenched away from him, overcome with sudden fury. As she spun back, her arm hit a stack of waterproof boxes. The highest one toppled, Shakespeare posters spilling from the container and crashing against the stone floor. She ignored them, flinging her words at Alan. “You want my future, but you won’t even give me your past. You’re so wrapped up in your selfish misery, you can’t believe anyone might actually care about you.”

She took a furious step toward him. “I’ll tell you the horrible things I found out about you. I discovered that two local teenagers rescued you when your parents died. Ma Harris, I would guess, and her brother, Domino. Twenty-five years ago she gave you your life. She must know you’re not a jumbee, but she lives to protect you. She does everything she can to make sure people stay away from you, everything she can to keep you safe and be your friend.”

Alan stared at her in silence.

“I know my dad tutored you,” she continued, her rage growing again. “My dad gave you hope, you told me, and friendship.” She stabbed her finger at the posters on the floor, and Alan took a step back. “His inscriptions to you are as heartfelt and sincere as anything he ever wrote to me. He respected you, and it’s possible he also feared you; I can only guess. But he brought you back here, to your home. He clearly loved you.”

Alan shook his head, and Esti moved closer to him.

“I discovered other things,” she said. “I know Manchineel Cay marked you as her own when you were a baby. I don’t know if she fears you, but if an island is capable of vengeance, then why not fear? Why not love? Your lady cay must love you desperately, Alan. She long ago guaranteed you would come back to live your life with her, alone.”

Esti narrowed her eyes. “And I found out one last horrible thing. I realized I’m capable of doing almost anything for you. I’ve learned to lie and steal and sneak around in the dark, keeping secrets and breaking promises and feeling guilty for everything I do. My love for you has driven me to hurt everyone I know.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Aurora and Rafe. Carmen, Lucia and her mom. Even Rodney and Frederick have suffered because of me. Because of you.”

She followed him as he shrank away from her.

“You’ve destroyed people for me,” she continued in a softer voice, “so yes, I am afraid of you. It’s not because of your face, Alan. You’ve caused me pain I could never have imagined. But you’ve also given me beauty like I never dreamed of, and I would do anything in my power to make your life happy.”

She studied the terrible face in front of her. Alan had backed into the wall of boulders, his expression close to panic. This is it, she thought. The most challenging role I’ll ever play. Forgive me, Rafe.

“If this were a fairy tale,” she said, “and I could turn the jumbee into a handsome prince with a kiss, don’t you know I would do it?”

She leaned forward and kissed him, her heart pounding with anger and fear as her lips met his. An unnamed longing swept through her, aching for something that could never be. He didn’t respond, still frozen against the wall as she pulled away.

“Unfortunately,” she continued, her voice shaking, “it’s not that easy. The people you allowed near have all respected you, yet you look for rejection. That’s all you want, even from me. Your threats might earn you pity and a desperate promise, but they destroy everything else. I will always be your friend, but I can’t heal your misery for you.”

The wind roared past the house like a fighter jet close overhead. Alan stared at her with haunted eyes that widened at a sudden violent banging from the kitchen upstairs. He hesitated, his desperation evident. As the banging became more urgent, he turned toward the stairs, swearing bitterly under his breath.