Justine had been cultivating a relationship with Tatiana, and had made many friendly overtures to Melly. Julian had seen all of it as part of her political maneuvering staying on friendly terms with the monarch of the neighboring demesne kept Justine in a strong position to create mischief. Also, it might garner Justine some outside support if she ever made a move against him in a way that would win Tatiana's sympathy and approval.

Could Justine have had anything to do with Melly's disappearance? Would she really destroy the friendly relationship with the Light Fae that she had worked so hard to cultivate? Tatiana made a deadly enemy.

Turning away from the others, he rubbed his eyes as he tried to put himself in Justine's shoes.

She had failed to kill Xavier, and she knew very well that Julian was actively hunting her down. And she had already shown how far she was willing to go when she had slaughtered her entire household.

Now, because the Nightkind demesne lay under martial law, not only were her movements hampered by the need to remain undetected, but those of her allies were as well. And while their hostilities had not yet become public knowledge, Julian was under no illusion. His demesne was caught in the middle of a civil war.

Justine would realize it too. She had to know that her life was at stake. She was a creature who only pretended to have a conscience. If she were threatened, she would sacrifice any relationship, any potential political advantage, in the fight for survival.

Tatiana turned to Graydon. "As soon as I realized Melly was missing, I had the area around her front door cordoned off. I wanted to keep it as clean as possible from too many contaminating -" Her voice broke, but almost immediately, she picked up her sentence and carried on. "From too many contaminating scents. There have been only two people inside the house, the original guard from the security company, and my own captain, Shane Mac Carthaigh. He's there now, making sure the perimeter is maintained. From the dust on Melly's car, it clearly hasn't been touched in a couple of days, which makes sense since she was just returning home from a skiing trip. Her luggage was stacked just inside the house. She hadn't unpacked yet."

Graydon said quietly, "Shane's a good man. You did all the right things. If Soren will take me, I can start investigating immediately."

She looked at the Djinn. "Would you do that?"

"Absolutely," Soren said. Julian noted the conspicuous lack of bargaining in the exchange. Djinn were notorious for striking bargains for an exchange of favors which was their currency of choice but clearly Soren had some affection for Tatiana, and perhaps even for Melly as well. "I also want to talk to the guard who was on duty at the gate yesterday evening. Did he notice anything unusual?"

Tatiana rubbed her forehead. "When Shane questioned him, the guard said it had been a perfectly normal evening. Shane said he was telling the truth."

Julian shook his head. "You said the community is gated, yet Melly still disappeared. I know captain Shane is an experienced magic user, but I would examine the guard a lot more closely if I were you. Eyewitnesses are unreliable at the best of times, and memories can be tampered with. He could have been glamored or coerced. A strong Vampyre could do it, or a Powerful witch even Dragos, so I'm told."

A silence fell, as everyone in the room considered him.

Soren said, "I'll be sure to examine him, myself."

Graydon pointed out, "There are also other ways a gated community can be breached. I could do it easily, and so could Soren."

"Shane said he hasn't sensed any residual magic," Tatiana said. "But he hasn't had time to comb the whole area."

Soren looked at Tatiana. "We have a lot to do, and we need to move fast, so we'd better leave now."

"Thank you so much."

Soren put his hand on Graydon's shoulder. In a whirlwind of Power, the two men disappeared.

As soon as they had left, Tatiana turned to Julian. With a restraint made painful by the amount of emotion behind her words, she said, "It was good of you to come."

It was the most genuine warmth Tatiana had shown him since he had cut things off with Melly.

Briefly, he considered mentioning his suspicions about Justine. However, he was under no illusions about his relationship with Tatiana either. She had reached out to him out of desperation, not from any newfound sense of affection or friendship. She wouldn't believe a word he said about Justine, not without proof, and he didn't have any. The only thing he had was a train of thought based on what could very well be a coincidence.

Gesturing with one hand, he said, "Of course."

"I was hoping you might help with increased patrols at the Nightkind border." She paused, rubbing her forehead. "I know your resources must be strained at present."

That was her way of referencing the trouble in his own demesne. "Yes," he told her. "But I can still put out increased border patrols. I'll also issue a confidential demesne-wide alert for the Nightkind police to keep an eye out for any sign of Melly."

Her raw gaze dampened. "Thank you. Could you also make a list of places you think should be searched? Bailey and I have been writing down every place we can think of if you could just take a look at the list and let us know if there's any place else you think we should add to it."

"Of course," he said again.

Bailey approached him, holding the notebook in one outstretched hand. From her rigid features, and tight mouth, he was willing to bet she hadn't agreed with her mother's decision to call him for help.

Ignoring her hostility, he took the pad of paper and turned away again as he scanned the places they had jotted down. It looked comprehensive to him. In fact, there were several places on the list he wouldn't have known to suggest, but then he and Melly hadn't been together in twenty years.

Had she taken lovers to these places? How many lovers had she had since Ferion? His mouth tightened at the thought, and the old resentful anger tried to resurface.

His skin prickled as a whirlwind of Power swept into the room again. A moment later, Soren reappeared. While the Djinn and the two women began to talk about search strategies, Julian jotted two places down on the paper.

One was a cabin at Lake Tahoe, where he and Melly had spent some time together. The winter that year had been so cold, the lake had turned into a sheet of ice, and he and Melly had made love over and over again in front of a roaring fire.

The other was a winery in Napa Valley. It had been a spur-of-the-moment trip.

That time had been much like the trip to Lake Tahoe. They couldn't keep their hands off each other. Her curves had felt like heated silk, and he had lost himself in voluptuous sensuality, drunk on the wine in her blood and a desire that burned away everything and left him feeling burnished and new again.

His lip curled at the memories. He shoved them aside. If he could burn them out of his head, he would.

Both places were so far-fetched as possibilities, he couldn't imagine they might still be relevant. But until they had a search strategy defined, they had no idea what might be relevant or not.

His phone buzzed. Pulling it out of his pocket, he checked the display.

It was a text message.

From Justine.

The old general in him roused, readying for battle. The waiting and strategizing was over. It was time to engage. He thumbed open the message.

If you want to see Melly alive again, meet me in one hour outside the de Young Museum in the Golden Gate Park. Say nothing to anyone. Come alone.

Well, that narrowed down the search considerably.

Rage and renewed fear roared inside as he stared at the text.

He was not surprised. He was not. Yet having the confirmation in writing felt like another blow to the stomach.

The Nightkind King did not negotiate with terrorists or kidnappers, but Julian the man was another matter entirely.

Thumbs flying over the tiny keyboard, he punched in a reply and hit send. I'm in Los Angeles. I can't make it to San Francisco in an hour. You've got to give me more time.

Her reply came swiftly. I am amused. Did Tatiana ask you for help?

Yes.

Behind him, Bailey said in a tight voice, "Can't you focus on something else besides yourself for once?"

"That's enough, Bailey," said Tatiana sharply.

He didn't bother to look at either Bailey or her mother. All of his focus strained on his silent phone, gripped so tightly between both hands.

Come on, Justine. Come on.

His phone vibrated as her text appeared on the display. You have three hours. Better get a move on.

Goddammit. The flight alone from LA to San Francisco took an hour and a half. Even with his authority to expedite his flight and commandeer a police cruiser to cut through city traffic in San Francisco, meeting her deadline was going to be close, very close.

He knew she kept the deadline tight in order to keep him from making some kind of countermove against her. And of course the whole thing was some kind of trap, but that was the least important part of their exchange.

In a clench, he forced himself to tap out the next words. I need proof of life or there's no deal.

Justine must have been waiting for that one, because almost immediately, her next text came, and it was a photo.

In the image, Melly stood in front of a man, looking both furious and terrified at once, her hands bound in front of her. The man's hands were sunk deep in her long, disheveled hair. Was he holding her hair back for the camera? Melly's face was tilted up at an uncomfortable angle, as if he had yanked her head back.

As Julian stared at the image, his emotions bled out all the bitterness, resentment, regret, fear and rage until he felt empty of everything, except the need to commit violence.

You, he thought at the unknown man restraining Melly. You are a dead man. You and Justine have just become my life's mission.

Soren said, "Julian?"

At the same moment, he received another text: That photo is from early this morning. Do we have a deal?

He replied, I'll be there in three hours.

Ticktock. Remember, not a word to anyone. I'll find out if you do.

He knew she could too. Justine was a talented liar. She also had a keenly developed truthsense. All she had to do was ask him a direct question and listen carefully to his reply.

A hand touched him on the bicep. Startling, he whirled to look into Tatiana's gaze. The Queen still looked frightened, but she was beginning to show signs of other emotions as well worry and confusion, along with the beginnings of anger and distrust.

Distrust for him.

"Julian, are you paying attention at all?"

Not a word to anyone, Justine had said.

Staring at Tatiana's distrustful expression when he had done not a goddamned thing in the world to earn it, he decided to take Justine's admonishment literally.

Pivoting on one heel, he snatched his cloak off the back of a chair and strode for the hallway, ignoring the calls and questions that flew after him. With one slicing gesture, he pointed at his two guards then at the floor at their feet, ordering them wordlessly to stay where they were. They remained in place, immobile.

As he strode toward the front door, he slung the cloak over his shoulders and pulled the hood over his head, holding it in place with one fist. The two Light Fae guards stepped aside at his approach.

The last thing he heard before he left the house was Bailey, as she said bitterly, "I knew you should never have asked him to come."

Then he stepped out into the sunlight. Searing pain stabbed the skin on the back of his hand, and he broke into a lope that brought him to the car.

The keys were in the ignition. Lunging into the driver's seat, he slammed the door, started the car and gunned down the driveway. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Tatiana, Bailey, Soren and the Light Fae guards, all standing on the front doorstep and staring in his direction.

He was fleetingly pleased to see that his two guards were nowhere in sight. They were following orders, at least for now.

The others had to have realized something was seriously off, but he couldn't count on them piecing things together in the right way. Even if they did, and they attempted to do something to help, they might just make matters worse.

If they didn't... well, fuck them.

He dismissed them from his mind. He had a plane to catch, and a deadline to keep.

Like Justine said, he better get a move on.

Four.

L.

ying so far north of Los Angeles, San Francisco had a much cooler climate and entirely different weather patterns. As the Nightkind plane taxied into SFO, beads of moisture gathered on the outside of the windows from the dense, heavy fog that had rolled in some time earlier that day.

Julian welcomed the fog. It provided an effective cover from the deadly sunshine. From long years of experience with living in the Bay Area, he could tell that he would be able to walk outside freely without needing the cloak, at least for the next couple of hours, and the fog might actually linger until nightfall.

During his trip to LAX, and the subsequent flight, he had received several calls and texts. None of them were from Yolanthe or Xavier, the two people he would have actually chosen to talk to, in case they had discovered any leads on Justine's whereabouts, so he ignored all the messages and let the phone calls roll over to voicemail. Maybe if enough people took note of his prolonged silence, they would start talking to each other and figure out that something had gone wrong.

Once the airstair had been put into place, he exited the plane, strode through the massive, overcrowded airport to the area allotted for pickups, and approached the first parked police car he saw.

Putting a hand on the edge of the roof, he leaned close to the window to look inside. No key in the ignition.

"I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the car, sir," a male said severely from behind him.

Straightening, Julian turned to face a young human, one eyebrow raised.

The cop's expression changed drastically. "S-sir," he stammered. "I mean, your majesty. No wait, that's English royalty. You're aa'your grace,' right? Or are you a 'my lord'?"

There was no way Julian could maintain silence after that. On the plus side, the cop would definitely remember every detail of their meeting. He said dryly, " 'Sir' or 'sire' will do just fine. I need your keys."

"Certainly, sir. Sire."