"Brother?" Jim cut-in. "Jarred Lowry is your brother?"

  Croft flicked another irritated gaze at Jim. "He's my half-brother," he clarified. "Same mother. Different fathers."

  Jim's jaw clenched. This guy was playing games with them, providing whatever information he wanted to share, holding back things Jim couldn't even begin to guess.

  "What about Rebecca?" Blair asked and Jim could hear the same distrust in his partner's voice that he was now feeling. "She said she was his daughter."

  "His wife," Croft admitted. "He used her to lure you to him."

  "But why?"

  "Blair, he's been searching for you for a year. Ever since that first day he felt your presence. But he never came close to finding you until four days ago. We both felt a sudden surge of energy from you."

  "He finally accepted what he is," Jim said, the timing of the two events unmistakable. "Up until then, we had never even talked about it."

  Blair shook his head. "I don't understand how just talking about Shamanism could suddenly make me a target."

  "Blair, when we first met, you asked me if I was a Shaman. I told you I practice Shamanism. There's a big difference between those two things," Croft explained. "Every person studying Shamanism hopes to someday tap into the powers within themselves, tap into their inner energy source. Most never attain this. Instead, they find a meditative inner peace and that's enough. But in very rare circumstances, there are people who possess this ability naturally, it is just a part of who they are. Their energy force is strong and powerful. Blair, you are that rare circumstance. You are a true Shaman."

  "Is that how Lowry found him?" Jim asked, Croft's words confirming what he had suspected for some time. "Through this inner energy source?"

  Croft nodded, his eyes never leaving Blair. "The moment you accepted your role as Shaman, my brother was able to hone in on you, find you because you finally allowed what's been inside you all along to grow and expand." His hands were clutched together on the table top, his knuckles white from the tight grip they had around each other. "Has Jarred come to you in your sleep?"

  Blair paled. "Yes. The last three nights."

  "That's when you're most vulnerable. He can slip more easily into your subconscious mind. Bend your will to his own."

  "How is that possible?" Blair asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Jim wanted to shout at his partner that it wasn't possible. That this guy was as crazy as his brother. But he didn't because he had been there when Blair awakened. Had seen the fear in his eyes when he asked if Lowry was gone. Some part of him knew Croft was telling them the truth.

  "My brother and I both possess some special abilities. Neither of us is a Shaman but we have been able to hone certain powers after many years of practice. Jarred has the ability to separate his life force from his body and project it to wherever he chooses. It's a kind of astral projection. It's not easy to do but many who practice Shamanism can eventually attain this ability. It's supposed to be used as the ultimate commune between earth and the soul. Instead, Jarred has used it to find you." Something in Croft's face changed. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the young man before him. "But there's more to you than just this, isn't there." He reached out and before Jim knew what was happening, had grasped Blair's hand in his own.

  "Hey, man." Blair tried to pull back but Croft's other hand snaked out and latched on, holding tightly.

  Jim pushed away from the counter and crossed to his partner. "Let him go, Croft." He slipped a hand under Blair's arm, ready to pull him away. But the instant Jim touched his Guide, Croft released him.

  The man gasped. His face flushed. He stood so suddenly his chair fell over behind him. His eyes darted to Jim. "You're a Watchman," he said, his voice filled with amazement. His gaze slipped back to Blair. "And you're his Guardian. No wonder the powers within you are so strong." He made a move to touch Blair again but Blair stood and backed away. Croft moved with him, his gaze locked intently on the anthropologist, his hand reaching toward him. Without hesitation, Jim shifted in front of his partner, shielding him from the approaching man. Croft stopped, disappointment creasing his brow. He dropped his hand to his side. "I'm not going to hurt him," he said. "But if I touch him again--"

  "What does Lowry want from Sandburg?" Jim asked, keeping himself between Blair and this man. Making it clear that he was not going to put his hands on his Guide again.

  "Jarred wants his life force," Croft answered simply, the words directed at Jim. "My brother is sick...dying. He thinks he can take some part of your young friend here and make himself well again."

  "This is nuts," Blair said from behind Jim, his voice trembling.

  Jim consciously tuned in to Blair. Instantly, his partner's racing heart rate and quickened respiration filled his ears. He turned toward his Guide. "Relax, Chief." He put a hand on his shoulder and reminded himself to keep his senses tuned in to Blair. Because he couldn't do it any other way now. The moment he stopped concentrating on it, stopped specifically tuning in, the sounds slipped away. It'd been that way ever since--

  Sudden realization raised the hairs on the back of his neck. His gaze cut to Croft. "You said Lowry thinks he's can take a part of Blair. Is it possible he's already done that?"

  "Oh man, Jim. You don't think...?" Whatever color was left in Blair's face drained away.

  "Yeah, Chief, I do." He looked back at Croft. "Normally, Sandburg and I have this...connection. For the last three days, it's been gone. Is it possible your brother is responsible for that?"

  "It's quite possible. My brother may sense what you are on some unconscious level. He may be blocking you from Blair in order to leave him more vulnerable."

  "Can I stop him?" Blair asked, the question sounding desperate to the Sentinel's ears.

  "You can't change what's been done," Croft said, his words edged with guilt. "You can only stop him from gaining any more of you."

  "Wait a minute," Jim said, unable to believe he had heard the man correctly. "He can't get back what's been taken?"

  "There are only two ways to regain what was lost," Croft said, his gaze shifting from Jim to Blair and back again. "Jarred would have to give it back willingly which I don't see happening or upon my brother's death, it would be restored to Blair automatically."

  Jim stared unbelieving at this man. He was telling him that the connection he and his Guide had shared for the last three years was now gone and they could do nothing to get it back? No. He would not accept that. There had to be some way to regain it.

  "Jim?" Blair's voice drew his attention. "Don't worry. We'll get through this." He smiled at Jim and there was such hope in that smile that for a moment, Jim actually believed him.

  "I know we will, Chief." He returned his partner's grin but didn't think his quite measured up.

  "I can teach you some meditation that will help you tap into your inner power." Croft grabbed a book from the table and began flipping through the pages. "I marked some passages earlier. I was going to try and see you again."

  Blair moved to him and pulling out his glasses, glanced at the book over Croft's shoulder. "This will help me?"

  Croft nodded. "If my brother does try to attack you again, you'll at least be in a better position to defend yourself."

  Blair looked up at Jim. "Do you mind? I think I'll sleep better tonight if we do this."

  "Yeah, Chief, go ahead. We've got some time here." Jim sat at the kitchen table and watched as the two men began working on the meditation exercises. He only half listened as they went through each step, his mind turning back over and over to the same inescapable fact, to the very real possibility that the connection he'd had with his Guide might be lost forever.

  Blair lifted the binoculars and scanned the empty warehouse. He could sense the tension coming off his partner. They'd been sitting in the truck for nearly an hour and Jim had barely said two words no matter how hard Blair tried to engage him in conversation. He knew what was causing his friend's uneasiness. He just didn't know if talking about it would help or just cause more damage.

  "Jim, are you still thinking about what Croft told us? About not getting back what Lowry took from me?"

  "Aren't you?" Jim rubbed his forehead in obvious agitation. "Blair, when we're out on the streets, I count on that connection we have to keep track of you, to know where you are all the time. It's the only way I know to keep you safe."

  "I'll just have to watch out for myself a little more," Blair said, keeping his voice light, hoping to alleviate some of Jim's anxiety.

  "It's not just that." Jim's gaze shifted to his window. He stared out at the night, silent and brooding. Blair waited knowing Jim would speak again when he was ready, willing to wait however long that took.

  "Blair," Jim began after at time, his voice barely audible in the small cab of the truck, "it's like they've taken you from me." He kept his face turned away. Blair could see the muscles in his jaw flexing. Knew he was working hard to keep himself under control.

  Blair felt his own emotions well to the surface. Never in the three years that he had known Jim had they ever been this close to each other...or this far apart. Even with everything that had happened with Alex, some small piece of him had still been with Jim. It was not something Blair could put his finger on, just a sensation that for him usually only presented itself in the most dire of circumstances. But he knew for Jim the loss was more profound. Jim's ability to hear Blair's heart beating, to know his Guide was near without making any effort to locate him, had been cut-off. Jim had confided in Blair just recently that his heartbeat was familiar to him, that to a certain degree the sound kept Jim level, calm. Now that sense of constant connection was gone and Blair knew exactly how that loss was making his Sentinel feel.

  Reaching out, he gripped his partner's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "You're not alone, man. I'm still right here."

  "I know, Blair." Jim turned to him, his eyes dark with fury. "I just can't accept the fact that we're never going to get back what Lowry took from us."

  "I don't expect you to accept it." He shifted in his seat, pulling his left leg up and resting his back against his door, facing his partner straight on. "Jim, if Croft is right and I'm some kind of rare circumstance then I think I have him and Lowry beat hands down in the Shaman department."

  The anger in Jim's eyes lessened. A small smile pulled at the left side of his mouth. "You think so, huh?"

  "Yeah, I do." And Blair realized in that moment that he truly believed what he was telling Jim. He felt it deep within him, a certainty that he couldn't deny. "So whatever Lowry did to me, whatever he took, I'm telling you right now that I'm going to get it back."

  Jim's smile widened. "I believe you will, Chief."

  "Damn right I will." Blair nodded then lifting his binoculars, scanned the warehouse again. "Give me a week and I'll have this whole Shaman thing working overtime for me," he said with exaggerated confidence.

  "Well, Sandburg, I hope it doesn't put a damper on your new found talents as Super Shaman but I asked Simon to put out an APB on Rebecca and Jarred Lowry."

  Blair laughed. "Hey, man, I'll be humble and accept the help."

  "Seriously Blair, maybe after tonight we should just lay low until the Lowrys are picked up."

  Blair lowered the binoculars. "What would you tell Simon? Sorry Captain but Blair and I can't work for the next few days. Seems Sandburg has some evil Shaman stalking him in his dreams." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that'd go over real big."

  Jim cuffed him on the side of the head. "I think I could manage to explain it a little better than that, Sandburg."

  "You're serious? You really want to tell Simon about this?"

  "Don't you think it's time we brought him in on it?"

  "No, I don't." He settled back against his door, hugging himself against the night's chill. "Jim, you tell Simon any of this and he'll assume it's all just some crazy theory I've cooked up. He won't believe it for a minute."

  "He's accepted what I am, hasn't he?"

  "This isn't the same. What you do, your Sentinel abilities, they're right there. Simon can see them so he can believe in them. But me? You try to tell him that I've got some Guide / Shaman destiny? He'll never buy that."

  "You underestimate yourself," Jim said. "Simon values your input at the station."

  "As a graduate student of anthropology who's worked with cops for three years, yes. But something more than that?" He shook his head. "Jim, he doesn't see me the way you do. No one does. What you think about me, what you feel…it's just that, your feelings. You and I know there's something more going on here but even we don't really understand it so how can we explain it?" He paused trying to think of the best way of making Jim understand the position this put him in. "It took me a long time to gain Simon's respect. You tell him about this and I get bumped right back down to 'goofy Sandburg' status. I can't go back to that."

  "Okay Chief." Jim trained his gaze on the building before them, doing a slow sweep. "This is your call. I won't say a word."

  "Good. So let's just sit out here, watch this empty building and rack up some hours." He pulled his jacket more tightly around him. "Now that I'm getting paid for this, I'm more than willing to stay out here all night."

  Jim gave him a side-long look. "Didn't I tell you? Stake-outs aren't covered under your new arrangement."

  Blair narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I knew there was a catch."

  "You should have read the fine print before--" His words cut off abruptly. He tilted his head to the side and Blair knew he was listening to something in the distance.

  "What is it, Jim?" he whispered.

  "I think it's our guy." Jim grabbed the handle of his door. "Call for backup and send them in when they get here."

  Blair grabbed Jim's arm, stopping him. "I'm coming with you."

  "No, you're not."

  "Jim--"

  "Blair, I can't keep track of you so I can't have you in there. All I'll end up doing is trying to watch out for you and I'll end up risking us both."

  "Then at least wait for backup."

  Jim shook his head. "The guys already putting down the gasoline. I can smell it."

  "I don't--"

  "Blair, we're wasting time here."

  Blair released his hold. "Be careful, man." He put in the call for backup, tracking Jim until he disappeared into the warehouse. Lifting the binoculars, he scanned the front of the building. Nothing. No movement. He shivered, his gaze sweeping the rest of the area around him. Because suddenly, he no longer felt alone. Suddenly, he felt as if someone were watching him. As if--

  "Ellison, report in." Simon's voice boomed through the truck cab.

  Blair jumped, spinning toward the radio. "Damn," he muttered, snatching up the microphone. "Simon, it's Blair. Jim's gone into the building. He thinks our guy is in there. I've already called in backup." Blair let go of the button on the side of the mic and waited. No response. His brow furrowed. He had expected Simon to tell him that he and half of Major Crimes were on their way.

  "Sandburg, are you alone?"

  He blinked, taken off guard by the question. "Yes."

  "Lock the doors of the truck and stay put until backup gets there."

  The hairs on the back of Blair's neck stood on end. Icy fear slid through his veins. There was something in the captain's voice. Something... "Simon, what's going on?"

  "We caught the arsonist, Blair. I was just getting ready to call and tell you and Jim to pack it in when I heard you'd called for backup."

  As Simon's words registered in Blair's mind, his gaze swung to the warehouse. A set-up. Someone had lured Jim inside. No, not someone. Jarred and Rebecca Lowry. They wanted Jim out of the way. Had lured him inside so they could...

  "No," he breathed, his mind playing out the worst case scenario -- playing out Jim's death.

  "Sandburg, stay in the truck!" Simon's voice spilled from the radio. Blair ignored it.

  Shoving open his door, he started toward the warehouse. He was less than ten feet from the truck when he heard someone behind him. Before he could turn, he felt pain on the back of his head and his last thought before everything went black was that his life had fallen into a grim pattern.

  Jim sent out his senses. When he'd first entered the warehouse, he could hear the perp moving around at the far end of the building. Could smell gasoline. But now... Jim cocked his head to the side, listening. Now, he heard nothing.

  What the hell? A strange feeling began to grow in the pit of his belly. Something wasn't right about all this. In all the other cases, there had been small incendiary devices set up throughout the building. So far, he'd come across nothing. Just an empty shell of a building that looked as if no one had been in it for years.

  He rounded a wall and saw a pile of rags burning in the far corner. Rushing to it, he stomped out the flaming debris. The pile was relatively small, easily extinguishable. Yes, if left unattended it could have burned down the building. But this was obviously not the work of their arsonist. So who had been in here? Why had they bothered--

  "Oh God." Sudden understanding ripped through him. Blair! His partner's name exploded through his mind. Even as he turned and sprinted back toward the truck, he knew he was too late - Blair was gone.

  In the distance, he could hear sirens approaching. He reached the truck only to confirm Blair's absence. Damn! How could he be so stupid! Rebecca and Jarred Lowry had set them up. Had managed to snatch Blair while Jim was less than two hundred yards away.

  A black and white pulled up. Simon bounded out the passenger door. "Jim, what the hell is going on?" His gaze swept the surrounding area. "Where's Sandburg?"

  Jim slid into the truck, grinding the engine to life. "Simon, I don't have time to explain. I'll call you when I know something." He roared out of the parking lot toward the only person who could help him save his partner's life.

  The first thought Blair Sandburg had as he dragged himself back to consciousness was that his throat was incredibly dry. He swallowed and tasted oil and dirt. A moment later, he realized it wasn't just a taste in his mouth but something more. A rough piece of cloth had been stuffed into his mouth and knotted at the back of his head.