He was too preoccupied to be amused. "One or the other. I don't need both at once." He held out his hand peremptorily, and the cop dropped his keys into the palm of his hand.

"Where shall I go to pick up the vehicle, sire?" the cop asked.

Without replying, Julian climbed into the police car and, switching on the vehicle's siren, he drove off. He had very little time now to get to the Golden Gate Park, and the museum.

Cutting sharply across the highway, he settled into the fast lane and shot the car's speed to over a hundred miles an hour. In the heavy fog, it was a suicidal pace. What saved him were his preternatural reflexes.

The other vehicles on the road moved out of his way as drivers responded to the siren, but still there were times he had to slow as he waited for the traffic to shift to the right.

When he turned onto John F. Kennedy Drive, he had five minutes left.

Then four minutes, three.

Two.

He could tell by the line of red lights glowing up ahead that traffic was heavy at the intersection. He wasn't going to make it if he continued to the intersection to turn onto Hagiwara Tea Garden Drive, the road upon which the museum was located.

He had no doubt Justine would kill Melly without a moment's hesitation if he were late. None at all.

Yanking hard on the steering wheel, he drove the car over the shoulder and onto the grounds of the park. He could feel the wheels of the car digging into the dirt, and he gunned the engine to compensate.

When the distinctive shape of the museum building loomed out of the fog, he opened the car door and leaped out while it was still running, leaving it to slow to a stop on its own. Blurring into his fastest sprint, he raced around the corner of the building just as the stopwatch on his phone started to chime.

He snatched the phone out of his pocket and texted, I'm at the front of the museum. Where are you?

Justine replied, Stop. Wait.

Coming to a standstill, he did as she ordered, studying his immediate surroundings with a soldier's sharp eye. Palm trees dotted the area, and despite the heavy fog, there were several people walking along the sidewalk. He focused on their conversations. All of them sounded innocuous enough.

A young girl came running toward him. Perhaps twelve years old, she wore a school uniform and she carried a laptop. He had dismissed her as harmless while she was standing in a crowd of schoolchildren several yards away, but as she came closer she caught his attention again.

Several dangerous creatures could masquerade as an innocuous school-age girl, and he tensed.

"Hi!" she called out as she ran up to him. "The lady from the museum said you left your laptop. She asked me to bring it to you."

Catching a hint of the girl's human scent, he relaxed somewhat. "Did she?" he asked, glancing behind her at the museum's entrance. "What did she look like?"

The girl gave him a bright smile. "Oh, she's very beautiful, and she has red hair. Is this yours?"

"I guess it is." He took it from her. "Thanks."

"Have a nice day!" She raced off again, heading for a yellow school bus where several other children in the same uniform were climbing aboard.

His phone vibrated. Did you get my present?

Tucking the laptop under one arm, he texted, Yes. Quit texting, dammit. Pick up your phone and call.

Oh, we'll talk, she sent back. Just not by phone. Open the laptop and click on the Skype window. It's logged into the museum's Wi-Fi. Don't move away from the building, or you'll lose your connection.

Furiously, he yanked open the laptop and clicked on the Skype window.

Even though he braced himself for what might come next, the image that appeared made him go more than a little insane.

The scene was the same as the photo Justine had sent him. The background looked like rough rock, as if it might be a cave, or perhaps an unfinished basement. There were no windows or other potentially identifying characteristics. The lighting was odd and inadequate, and very slanted, as if it came from a lamp set on the floor.

This time there was no sign of the unknown male. Justine stood with Melly in front of the camera. They were both near the same height and size, but Melly was no match for Justine's far superior strength and speed. Melly had a bunched cloth stuffed into her mouth in a simple, brutal gag. The Vampyre held the younger woman in a tight clench, and in one hand, she held a knife.

Julian ran his gaze compulsively over Melly. By some trick of nature, she was ridiculously photogenic. Even in such a horrible setting, with bad lighting, no makeup and a great deal of stress and danger, the camera loved her features and figure.

She looked disheveled, furious and scared. Her bare arms showed a few smudges that might be either dirt or bruises, but other than that, she didn't appear to be seriously injured or abused.

Yet.

Their gazes locked. Even through Skype he felt such a strong connection to her, for the tiniest moment nothing else mattered. All his anger and bitterness fell away. She looked at him like she used to with her beautiful eyes so full of emotion. Light glimmered in the wetness of her gaze, and in that moment, he would have given anything, anything at all, to be able to put his arms around her and tell her that everything would be okay.

Anything, just to feel her in his arms one more time.

"First things first," Justine said. She smiled into the camera. "I want you to tell me you didn't say a word to anyone."

He snapped, "I didn't tell anybody anything."

"Excellent. Put your phone in your pocket and leave it there. Remember I have eyes on you right now, and I don't mean through our Skype session. If you try to do anything stupid, I'll carve off Melly's face and make it into a mask to wear to our next encounter."

His own truthsense told him that Justine wasn't making an idle threat. He hadn't targeted anyone suspicious when he'd studied the scene, but that didn't mean that watchers weren't there.

Hissing, he jammed his phone into his pocket. "I'm not going to try anything stupid."

Justine laid her cheek against Melly's golden hair and rocked her back and forth. "I guess we have an answer to our question, don't we, kitten? Apparently he does have some feeling left for you after all." Her smile widened. "Julian, you might want to compose yourself. Remember, the fog offers you some cover, but you're still in public. Those fangs and red eyes are sure to bring you more attention than you want right now."

He hadn't been aware that he had lost such control, and he struggled for some measure of composure. It was difficult, when the need for violence filled his mind with a red haze.

"You're going to be okay," he told Melly. "Remember that."

Briefly, she closed her eyes. When she looked at him again, she did so with a steely calm. Good girl. Gods, she might be faithless, but she was damn brave.

Only then did he turn his attention back to the psychotic bitch holding her captive. "I'm here, just like you wanted," he said in a harsh voice. "Let's get on with this."

"Don't be so hasty," Justine said with evident relish. "I can't tell you how long I've looked forward to doing this or something like this, anyway. This specific scenario is a surprise, but I'm excellent at improvising when I have to. I just want you to take a moment to really appreciate everything I've set up here."

He said between his teeth, "Believe me, nothing you've done in the last few days has escaped my notice."

She batted her eyelashes at him. "I'm so glad. This wasn't easy to do on short notice, you know. We're in a remote enough location I had to use a couple of relays just to establish a Wi-Fi connection. You can't imagine the hassle."

"You want me to tell you it's really fucking amazing?" he said flatly. "Okay. It's really fucking amazing. Justine, you've screwed up. Forget about me for a moment take me out of the picture completely. If you do anything to hurt Melly, Tatiana will never rest until she has you hunted down and staked."

Justine pursed her lips into a moue. "I guess that means we'll have to make sure Tatiana never finds out I was involved. Maybe I should just kill her now. After all, it's not like I can let her go, because as soon as I do, Tatiana will know I was the one who kidnapped her."

She raised the knife to Melly's throat.

He started to talk fast, and desperately. "That's not true. You haven't gone too far yet. Tatiana will be pissed you kidnapped her, but no real harm has been done. She'll get over it Justine, listen to me -"

Watching his face, Justine started to draw the knife slowly across Melly's neck. A red line appeared on the tawny skin of Melly's throat. With a hoarse, muffled scream, Melly fought against Justine's hold, but the other woman held her firmly captive.

Panic blew out Julian's mind. He roared into the camera, "Stop. Justine, stop! TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT ME TO DO, AND I'LL DO IT!"

Cocking her head, Justine pulled the knife away and licked the blade with evident relish.

As Julian stared while she tasted Melly's blood, he wanted nothing more than to punch his fist into Justine's chest, pull out her beating heart and crush it in one hand.

Justine said, "Or maybe I shouldn't kill her, since she seems to be an effective way to control you. Hm, what to do." She said to Melly, "Darling, you taste delicious. Stop struggling so hard, I barely scratched you."

Fixedly, he focused on the bleeding wound on Melly's neck. Even though the quality of the camera feed wasn't terrific, the cut didn't appear to be bleeding copiously. Justine was telling the truth. She hadn't cut deeply enough to sever the carotid artery.

He thought of all the expert slashes on the throats of her dead attendants. She knew what she was doing with a knife, down to the millimeter. Now that she had decided on her course of action, she would enjoy playing with them both, like a cat with captive mice.

He had to turn her attention away from Melly and back onto him. He snapped, "What do you want?"

All Justine's playfulness fell away, until her face turned cold and still. "It's so simple, Julian, I'm sure you already know the answer. I want you. Taking Melly, this whole set up it was all for you. I hope you feel flattered. Now I want to know just one thing. If I agree to let Melly go, would you take her place? Would you trade her life for yours?"

"Yes," he said. Justine was right. He did already know she would ask that, because of course that was the trap.

Justine smiled. "That's what I was hoping you would say." Her gaze shifted to someone who stood behind the camera. "Now it's your turn."

A whirlwind of Power appeared in front of Julian. If that was Soren, his appearance on the scene could ruin everything. Snapping the laptop shut, Julian faced the new arrival with a snarl, his fangs descending.

The figure of a Djinn formed, but it wasn't Soren.

It was a pariah Djinn named Malphas.

Like Soren, Malphas was a first-generation Djinn, and as such, he carried an intense concentration of Power. His physical form was that of an angelically handsome man with golden hair, but he was nothing like an angel.

Malphas smiled at him. "Hello, Julian."

He snarled, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

The Djinn lifted a shoulder in a casual-looking shrug. "When I heard Justine was looking to bargain with a Djinn, I decided to pay her a visit to see what she required. We had an interesting conversation, she and I."

"You can't bargain to help Justine," Julian growled. "Pariahs might not keep their word, but you can't afford to break the bargain you made with Tess and Soren. If you do anything to hurt anyone in the Nightkind demesne, or anyone Tess knows and cares about, Soren will open the envelope of information she gave him and distribute the contents to every gaming commission in the world."

Malphas's smile glittered with malice. "I can keep a bargain when it suits me, and I fully intend on keeping that one. However, there's nothing in that agreement to keep me from offering to give you a ride if you want it. After all, I wouldn't be hurting you. I would be helping you to get wherever you wanted to go. I can drop you off at the destination of your choice and be on my way. What happens to you after that is none of my business."

Julian's eyes narrowed. Clearly this was the Djinn's way of getting revenge for Julian's part in the confrontation that had trapped Malphas into making the bargain with Soren and Tess.

His mind raced as he tried to think of options, but Justine had planned too thoroughly and there weren't any. With Malphas's travel "assistance," Julian would have no way to trace their paths or to find out the location of the meeting.

"I know what you're trying to do," said Malphas. "You're trying to think your way out of the situation. But this time all of the cards are in Justine's favor. You'd better hurry. From everything I've seen, I think she really likes to use that knife."

"All right," he bit out. Maybe he could think of something he could do once he came face-to-face with Justine.

Malphas raised an eyebrow. " 'All right'... what? Do you want me to do something for you?"

"Take me to where Justine and Melly are," Julian snarled.

Smiling, the Djinn crossed his arms. "Did you ask me a question in there somewhere? I didn't hear a request in that. I can't imagine why I would do anything for you when you haven't even said please."

His fangs sprang out. Lowering his head, Julian stared at the Djinn. "I might be trapped at the moment," he whispered. "But you don't want to push me too far."

"On the contrary." Malphas returned his stare with one as implacable and hostile. "That's precisely what I want to do push you too far. Hurry up. I'm growing bored. You have no value to me if you stop being entertaining, and I couldn't care less whether or not Justine slits the Light Fae princess's throat."

Julian sucked in a breath. He said, "Will you please take me to where Justine and Melly are?"

"That's better." Malphas's smile returned. "Of course I will."

As the Djinn strolled toward him, Julian had time to consider a few things.

Every old Vampyre had talents that increased with age, and he was no exception. His talents were persuasion and also the ability to hold on to his prey. If he got his hands on Malphas, the Djinn wouldn't be able to dematerialize again until Julian either let him go or he was dead.

And he considered it.

He really considered it.

If he waited until after Malphas transported him to where Justine and Melly were, and he tried to call on Soren, he could force Malphas to stay until the other Djinn arrived.

But that was assuming Soren could hear him, or would choose to answer him if he did. Djinn made psychic connections to the people with whom they struck bargains. Those connections allowed them to hear when they were called, but Julian had always been careful to stay clear of Djinn obligations.

Witches were also able to put out calls to the Djinn with enough Power to make themselves heard, but Julian was no witch. Normally when he wanted to contact Soren, he did so in the most ordinary of ways, by phone.

Even if he were able to call Soren and the Djinn responded, the maneuver would kill him. Julian might be able to pin Malphas, but he couldn't defeat the Djinn on his own. Malphas was too Powerful.

A first-generation pariah could only be destroyed if several Powerful creatures teamed up to take him down. It had been done before, but it was a risky and dangerous proposition, which was why the Demonkind only went after a rogue Djinn when they had no other choice. At their essence, they were social creatures, and their preferred method of punishment was to ostracize a Djinn who went rogue.

And none of that took into account what would happen to Melly in the precious seconds it would take Soren to arrive and assess the situation. Justine would have her throat slit before Soren could do anything to stop it.

They really were well and truly trapped.

So Julian said nothing as Malphas stepped close enough to lay a hand on his shoulder.

And he did nothing, as the Djinn's whirlwind of Power rose up around him and carried him away.

Blood trickled down Melly's neck from the stinging cut Justine had given her. She thought, dear lords and ladies, all I want in the whole wide world is a bath, a pina colada, and the chance to stake this bitch in the heart.

And please, gods, a nap in a real bed is mighty high on my list too.

None of those things appeared to be in her near future. Not only was Justine's iron grip unbreakable, but Melly's makeshift stake lay several feet away, hidden in the pathetic little nest she had carefully arranged so that it hid the damage she had done to the frame of the cot.

When Justine and Vampyre Guy had shown up earlier, they had given her plenty of warning at their approach, although she hadn't understood what was happening until it was almost too late.

She had been hard at work staking ferals, which was a rotten, dangerous, tedious task, thank you very much. It was tough physical work, and her arm and shoulder tired quickly.