"What's your PayPal address?"

When he told her, she used the phone to log on to her PayPal account and went through the steps to pay him. His email address was simple and no-nonsense his first and last name. She said, "Done. Thank you, Keenan."

He dropped the keys to the Harley into her lap and shook her hand. "It's yours. I'll sign the title over to you and messenger it to... Where do you want me to send it?"

"If you deliver it to Julian's house in San Francisco, he'll see that I get it."

"Fair enough." With a shrug, he stood and walked toward the other bikers.

Watching him walk away, she considered his laconic attitude and reluctant decency, and she thought she might be crushing on him just a little.

Two more men emerged from the tunnel, drawing her attention. Then Julian appeared in a catlike leap. He was every bit as filthy as she was and entirely healed, and he moved with an extraordinary, predatory grace. Aside from the sheer power of his physicality, he had a massive, forceful presence that made all the other men pale in comparison.

Watching him, she thought, so much for my little crush.

What she felt for Julian eclipsed everything else. Everything.

A pity her feelings couldn't tell her what she should do about them.

As she watched, he looked around the scene warily. The area where she sat was still in deep shadow, so he approached to crouch at her side.

"I bought a bike," she told him. Her voice was unsteady again. "And a helmet, and a jacket. But I didn't think about gloves, and your neck would be exposed. I think we're going to have to wait for a car after all, and there's no way I'm going to leave you again, so we're going to have to break into one of the buildings to either wait out the day or wait for a ride, because Julian, I cannot go back down into that hole or I will go insane."

Midway through her speech, he gripped her arms.

"Melly, stop." He pulled her against his chest, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, huddling against him. He pressed his lips to the top of her head and said into her hair, "You don't have to try to fix everything, damn it. You can rely on me. I'll handle this. And no, we're not going to wait for a ride or for daylight to fade. We have too much to do."

Too much to do. Hmm.

She'd been hoping for a croissant, and a cup of coffee with cream and sugar.

Resting her cheek against his pectoral, she nodded as if she knew what he was talking about. A part of her concentrated fiercely on soaking up the sensation of his closeness.

After a moment he eased away. He told her, "I'll be right back."

As he approached the other men, she took note of how they reacted to him. They had been so much more generous than she could have expected. They had fed Julian and brought him back to health, but when he neared, several of them also took a step back. They were rough men, all of them, ready and able to commit violence, but they all recognized the dominant predator in their midst.

After exchanging a few sentences, one of them handed a pair of black gloves over to him, while another shrugged out of a flannel shirt he had been wearing over a Metallica T-shirt. Julian shook their hands, pivoted and came back to her. Tearing the thick flannel material into strips, he wrapped it around his neck and donned the gloves.

She stood to shrug off the jacket and hand it to him. After slipping it on, he zipped it and turned the collar up. His gaze met hers. One corner of his mouth notched up. "It's not elegant, but I've gone most of my life not being elegant. It'll do."

"As long as you're sure." She fussed over him, pulling the flannel material as high as she could under his chin.

"I'm sure." He flattened a hand at the small of her back and pulled her forward to give her a hard kiss. "Do you know how to ride a Harley?"

She slapped the keys into the palm of his hand. "Nope, and this is not my morning to learn. Have at it, soldier."

His smile widened. Taking her hand, he hoisted her to her feet. "Ready to go?"

"Almost. Hold on a sec." It was her turn to walk over to the bikers. She met each man's gaze. "Thank you so much for everything. I don't know what we would have done without you."

Several of them ducked their heads. For scary, rough-looking dudes, some of them were quite adorable. Keenan offered her a faint smile.

Leonard said, "You're welcome. Go kick some ass."

Julian had followed her. He told them, "That's the plan."

She asked the group, "I have one more question for you. Does anybody have a pen?"

After a moment of surprise, they dug into their pockets, until one of them offered a blue ballpoint pen. Crooking her finger at the guy who had asked for her autograph, she gestured for him to roll up his sleeve. Then she signed Melisande on his forearm.

Staring at the signature, he breathed, "I'm never going to wash my arm again."

Leonard snorted. "That ain't much of a stretch. You don't wash much anyway."

"Wait, I can't sweat. I need a tattoo parlor, stat."

"Come on," Julian said. He led her to the bike, pausing just long enough to slip on the helmet. "It goes against all my instincts to wear this helmet while you don't have one."

She told him, "You'll live, which is the point. And you won't let us crash."

The dark faceplate of the helmet was blank, yet she got the impression he was frowning at her. He mounted the bike while she slipped her new phone into her pocket and tucked the gun into her waistband.

"If I have anything to say about it, we sure as hell won't crash. But I need you to be ready, just in case something happens. Is your gun loaded?"

She swung onto the bike behind him, and because this time it was Julian, she nestled close against his body, spooning him.

"I double-checked. It has a full clip. Why? You're not expecting trouble, are you?" She tensed at the thought.

"I don't know what to expect. Soon after Justine ran away, I heard the sound of a chopper nearby. It may have been unrelated, or she may have help, like we discussed."

"I didn't even notice," she said. Working as she did in LA, the sound of traffic helicopters was so frequent, she tended to block out the sound.

"We're not going to get complacent." Starting the bike, he told her telepathically, Hold on tight. This is going to be a fast, rough ride.

She tightened her arms around his waist. Briefly he squeezed her hand, and they took off.

Julian wasn't exaggerating. It was a wild ride. He drove aggressively, and on open stretches of road, their speed shot up until the world became a blur. Squinting, she peeked once over his shoulder at the speedometer, and saw they had hit over a hundred miles an hour.

The wind screamed in her ears, and it whipped her hair around. Tears streamed from her eyes so that she couldn't see. She didn't dare loosen her hold to wipe her face. Instead, she let go of everything any worry that enemies might be tracking them, any fear at their high speed and buried her face in Julian's back, putting all her trust in him. After being confined in the dark for so long and living in serious fear for her life, the release she felt at their speed was exhilarating.

As aggressive as he was, he was still forced to slow when they reached the congested city streets near Nob Hill. A couple of times, he avoided coming to a standstill by driving up onto the sidewalks, scattering pedestrians.

The sound of sirens wailed behind them.

She looked behind them, peering through her crazy mess of tangled hair. A police cruiser tried to follow in pursuit but was forced to plunge to a halt behind traffic blocking the street.

I'm rethinking our destination, Julian said. If Justine has gotten help, it could get more dangerous the closer we get to my property.

How likely is that? she asked.

His reply was grim. I don't know. When she came to the tunnels, she wasn't expecting us to be free, but by this point, she's also had time to regroup and strategize, so anything's possible. Every time we've had an exchange, she's escalated. And I don't like how vulnerable and exposed you are.

She had been so focused on finally reaching comfort and sanctuary, his comments shook her. After a brief internal struggle, she said, The mansion's guarded, and you've been missing since yesterday, so they must be on high alert and watching the immediate vicinity. Screw it. Julian, just go for it.

He hesitated only for a moment. Then the Harley leaped forward again, hurtling around street corners and racing the final blocks. Finally the mansion came into view. They fishtailed to a halt by the intercom box in front of the gates.

Warily studying their surroundings, Melly drew her gun and braced the heel of her hand against Julian's shoulder, while he punched a button and snapped, "Gregoire, open the damned gate."

The wrought iron whirred into motion immediately. As soon as a gap several feet wide appeared, Julian revved the engine and they shot through.

Hang on, he told her.

She clamped on him, clinging to his waist with all her strength.

Instead of slowing to a stop in the drive near the front doors, he sent the Harley rocketing up the front steps and onto the spacious portico.

"Whoa!" she shouted.

The front door opened as they plunged to a stop. Julian blurred into motion, sweeping her off the bike and into shelter before her feet had a chance to touch the ground.

As Gregoire slammed the door shut, Julian set her down. After such an intense finish to the ride, she was shaking wildly. He kept one arm tight around her while he pulled off the helmet.

Dropping the helmet, he brushed her long, tangled hair back from her face. His sharp gaze roamed her features.

"We made it," he said. "That's it. We're here. You're safe."

"Understood," she managed between gritted teeth. If he had let go of her, she would have fallen.

"Melly." He cupped the back of her head as he clenched her to him. She tried to clutch at his leather jacket, but her fingers wouldn't work properly.

"What can I do?" Gregoire asked in a quiet voice.

Vaguely she was aware of Julian plucking the gun out of her shaking grip and handing it over to the other man. "Increase security around the perimeter. Contact Xavier and Yolanthe. Tell them we're here and to expect a briefing shortly. Get hot tea and food up to my rooms. I need a new phone."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm o-okay," Melly told Julian.

"I know you are." His gaze was concerned.

Her teeth started to chatter. "I'm j-just reacting."

"Hell, I am too." Scooping her into his arms, he jogged up the main stairs.

She managed to hook an arm around his neck. "I w-w-wasn't expecting the t-trip to end like that."

"Your back was so unprotected, I couldn't stand it." Rapidly he walked down the hall.

She hadn't been in his San Francisco home in over twenty years. The decor had changed somewhat. It was still a sophisticated blend of creams and golds, with dark antiques, but the wallpaper and paints had been updated, giving the interior a combination of a traditional and a contemporary look.

The layout remained the same, and she knew where he was taking her to his suite. For a brief moment she tried to decide if she cared, but she really didn't. She couldn't even scare up a ghost of pretense. Whenever she had visited, his suite had been a happy place, filled with safety and sensuality.

The future would take care of itself soon enough. Right now, she couldn't imagine anywhere else she would rather be.

Carrying her into his room, he set her in a worn leather armchair, set in a reading nook in one corner. A faint, comforting scent of cigar smoke surrounded her. A gold-inlaid humidor sat on a table beside the chair, along with a crystal ashtray and an old-fashioned metal torch lighter. This was where he sat to smoke and think.

She loved the smell of his cigars. Hand rolled and made of high-end, organic tobacco, they seemed clean and aromatic compared to the stink of so many modern cigarettes.

Steel shutters at the windows ran on an automatic timer. At the moment, they were all closed against direct sunshine. The room lay in deep shadow, with the only light streaming in from the hall, until he switched on the lamp beside the chair.

He knelt in front of her, gathering her close again. She threw her arms around him and hung on. He stroked her hair, and the silence that fell between them wasn't empty in the slightest. It was more full than any words could have made it.

When her arms loosened, his did too. He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers as he said reluctantly, "I have to go brief Yolanthe and Xavier."

She straightened in her seat. "I need to be there too."

"No." He shook his head. "Not two minutes ago you were shaking like a leaf, and you couldn't stand upright on your own. You need rest and good food."

She set her jaw. "I could sure as hell use a shower too, but Justine made me a part of this whole damn thing. Julian, I refuse to play the role of a helpless victim. I need to be a partner in bringing her to justice."

At that, he gave her a fierce frown, but she met his gaze steadily, and after a moment, he said, "I understand. How about a compromise? You stay up here and look after yourself. Let me brief Xavier and Yolanthe. I'm going to have them send investigators into the tunnels to start the process of extracting and identifying bodies. I'm also going to have them start a citywide search, and I want Xavier to investigate recent helicopter activity."

She frowned. "Helicopters don't have to file flight plans, do they?"

"No, but I'm hoping there'll be some kind of trail to follow. If the helicopter was rented, there'll be a record of that. If either Xavier or Yolanthe has any news, I'll call you down to join the conversation. If not, after I'm done with the briefing, I'm going to come back up here and shower too." He searched her expression. "We need to rest while we can, so that we're ready for whatever happens next."

She rubbed her forehead and let out a sigh as the starch left her spine. He was right. She needed to be a partner, but she had to be a robust and reliable one.

She said, "Okay."

He kissed her forehead. "I don't have any women's clothes in here, but I can have Gregoire send out for some things. In the meantime, help yourself to whatever you need."

Was it wrong of her to be fiercely glad he didn't have anything feminine in his private rooms? If it was, she didn't want to be right.

"Go on, don't worry about me," she told him. "I'll be fine."

He looked deeply into her gaze. "We have a lot to discuss, you and I."

"It'll keep." Her eyes narrowed. "For now."

Nodding, he gave her a hard, quick kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

When he strode out, he seemed to take all her remaining energy with him. She sagged in the chair while she stared into space. She had to call her mom and shower. Or shower and call her mom. They seemed to be insurmountable tasks, and she couldn't decide which one to tackle first.

The phone in her pocket rang, startling her. She pulled it out to look at the screen.

She knew the number from the incoming call like the back of her hand.