KISS AND KILL CUPID

BITTEN BY CUPID

Anthology

Lynsay Sands, Pamela Palmer, Jaime Rush

VAMPIRE VALENTINE

Lynsay Sands

CHAPTER 1

Tiny had just raised his hand to knock on the door when a shriek rang out from the other side. The sound immediately had him dropping the bags of blood he carried to charge into the room. He’d taken several steps inside, his eyes quickly scanning the situation, before he came to a confused halt. He’d expected to find that one or more of Leonius’s no-fangers had snuck into the church and was attacking someone, or, at the very least, a mouse that had startled someone, but there was neither. The room was filled with women, most of them in white, all peering at him with wide, startled eyes.

“Tiny?” The query was accompanied by a rustle of silk that drew his gaze to Marguerite Argeneau as she disengaged from the small cluster of women to his right. Tiny felt his eyes widen and his mouth drop as he caught sight of the Argeneau matriarch. The woman wore a long gown with a scooped neck, cinched waist, and a full skirt that belled out from her legs thanks to the tulle underneath. It was in every way a gorgeous, traditional wedding gown…except that it was a deep blood red color with black trim that made her look like a queen among her ladies-in-waiting dressed in white and pastel gowns. Tiny simply stared at her as she stood before him, his eyes caught by the full, pale breasts on display in the low-cut gown. It almost looked to him as if the dress was trying to push the round globes out of the neckline, as if their perfect presence somehow offended the rich material.

“Tiny?” Her voice was amused this time, and he forced himself to drag his fascinated gaze away from the escaping flesh to raise apologetic eyes to hers. Tiny offered a wry smile and sent out a silent apology he knew she would read, then cleared his throat and glanced around. “I heard someone scream.”

“And thought the worst,” Marguerite said with an understanding nod. She patted his arm soothingly. “All is well. It was a happy shriek, though with Jeanne Louise, it’s sometimes hard to tell.”

Marguerite’s niece wrinkled her nose at her gentle teasing and excused herself by saying, “I’d just heard Leigh’s good news. It took me completely by surprise.”

As Jeanne Louise turned back to Leigh to give her a congratulatory hug, Tiny glanced questioningly at Marguerite, wondering what the good news was, but her attention was on the doorway behind him. “Is that for us?”

The question drew his gaze back to the open door and the bags that lay scattered on the hall floor. Much to his relief, none of them appeared to have been damaged by the fall.

“Oh, yes. Bastien asked me to bring them to you gals. I dropped them when I heard the scream,” he admitted, turning to head back to the door. Marguerite followed, and when she knelt to help him collect them, he asked quietly, “What’s Leigh’s good news?”

“She’s pregnant again,” Marguerite said with a smile.

Tiny’s eyebrows rose, and he started to smile as well, but the expression died as he recalled how crushed Leigh and Lucian had been when she had miscarried the first time. If she lost this one as well—

“She’s more than three months along. This one should carry to term,” Marguerite said reassuringly, proving she still had the bad habit of reading his mind. “They waited until she was past the dangerous stage to share the news. I think she was afraid that announcing it before then would jinx it.”

Tiny nodded with understanding. From what he’d heard, the first miscarriage had been a terrible blow to the couple. He wasn’t surprised they’d waited to announce this one.

“Tell her congratulations from me,” he said quietly, as they straightened.

“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” Marguerite suggested.

Tiny hesitated and glanced to the women, all gathered now at the far end of the room. Terri, Leigh, and Inez all wore traditional white wedding gowns in various styles. Jackie, Jeanne Louise, Lissianna, and Rachel, who were acting as bridesmaids, wore pastels—pink, aqua, and lavender. They all looked exquisite…which was the problem. They were gorgeous, and they could read his thoughts. Much as he hated to admit it, not all those thoughts were stellar. He was a man after all…and he didn’t want to unintentionally insult any of the women with a stray thought that made its way up from his nether regions.

“Ah,” Marguerite said with understanding, reading his thoughts as always. She patted his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s all right. They are used to mortal men and their stray thoughts.”

“But I’m not used to women being able to read mine,” Tiny said dryly as he set the blood he’d collected on the table inside the door. “Tell Leigh congratulations for me and tell the others they look lovely.”

“Very well,” Marguerite said solemnly, but when he turned to retreat from the room, she followed him out into the hall. Knowing she had something else to say, Tiny paused and glanced back in question. Marguerite hesitated, then murmured, “After the recent trouble, it is nice to have so much to celebrate.”

“Hmm.” Tiny waited, knowing she had more to say.

Finally, she breathed out a little sigh, and simply asked, “You will be careful on this assignment?”

“Geez, Marguerite,” he said with irritation. The woman was always treating him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself. It was sweet but—

“I know you can take care of yourself, Tiny,” she assured him quickly. “And if this were a normal assignment, I probably wouldn’t even worry…much,” she added wryly when his expression turned dubious. She then rushed on, “But this is no-fangers we are dealing with here and—”

“Hang on,” Tiny interrupted suddenly as realization struck. “How do you know about this assignment? Lucian said it was top secret. We—” He snapped his mouth shut and grimaced as he realized she’d probably plucked it out of his thoughts. Which was probably why Lucian hadn’t given him the full details of the assignment until just moments ago. The wedding was only moments away, and he was supposed to stay in the private rooms until it did, then slip to his seat. Lucian was hoping that would minimize the chance of the wrong person reading his thoughts.

“Actually, I didn’t read your mind,” Marguerite assured him quietly. “In fact, I’m the one who suggested you and Mirabeau when Lucian mentioned his plan to me.”

“You suggested Mirabeau and I be given the job,” he said slowly, a frisson of alarm sliding through him. Marguerite was well-known for her matchmaking, and the woman didn’t do anything without a purpose. He suddenly wasn’t feeling so good about this task he’d agreed to do for Lucian Argeneau.

Marguerite rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t look so alarmed.”

“Marguerite,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue in a low growl. “Everyone knows what happens when you put two people together.”

“They find their life mates,” she said with a satisfied smile, then rolled her eyes at his expression. “Please don’t try to claim you wouldn’t like to find a life mate.”

Tiny frowned. He was mortal. Human. Non-vampire. And mortals as a rule didn’t have life mates. At least he didn’t think they did. Certainly the divorce rate among his fellow mortals didn’t suggest such was the case. Only immortals had life mates, or what they called life mates. Perfect partners they couldn’t read or control so they could live out their long lives in peace and passion.

However, mortals could be life mates to immortals. As for whether he’d like to be one…Tiny found his gaze sliding back into the room and to the women clustered inside, still smiling and chattering excitedly over Leigh’s pregnancy. His gaze slid over all those beaming, very happy faces, then settled on Jackie, his boss and partner at the detective agency. She used to be mortal too, but she’d turned out to be Vincent Argeneau’s life mate. Tiny hadn’t seen much of the woman he considered one of his best friends since then. The two rarely came up for air, but he’d met them in Vegas and stood in for her deceased father to give her away at their Elvis-inspired wedding a month ago, and he knew she was deliriously happy. Both she and Vincent fairly glowed with their joy. Spending that time with them…It had been hard not to yearn for that kind of connection and happiness too. Spending time with any of the immortal couples would make it impossible for anyone not to yearn for that kind of connection. Still…

Tiny shifted his gaze back to Marguerite. “So you think this Mirabeau and I…?”

“Mirabeau La Roche.” Marguerite nodded with a wide smile. “I think you shall suit each other perfectly.”

Tiny arched a doubtful eyebrow at the words as he asked, “Isn’t she the gal with the black-and-pink hair?”

“Normally yes.” Marguerite nodded. “But not today. I told her no one would think anything of her hair here in New York, but she wanted a more traditional hairdo for the wedding. Besides, she didn’t feel her hair went well with the peach gown she is to wear, so I took her to my hairdresser this morning to work her magic for the wedding.”

“Hmm,” Tiny murmured, his gaze sliding to the women in the room, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen a peach gown.

“She’s helping Elvi get dressed,” Marguerite explained, gesturing to a closed door at the opposite side of the room. “You’ll meet her soon enough, and when you do…” Marguerite hesitated, then sighed, and said, “Our Mirabeau is prickly. She has a lot of defenses. She lost her entire family to the greed and betrayal of a favorite uncle back during the Massacres of St. Bartholomew and finds it hard to trust and love. She’s erected a lot of protective walls. You will need to be patient.”

Tiny stared at Marguerite blankly. She seriously believed he would be a life mate to this Mirabeau. The idea was both exciting and scary as hell. His life would change forever. God. A life mate. It would mean his days as a bachelor were over…and he’d probably have to turn, become an immortal like Jackie had. He’d have to drink blood and…

“Breathe,” Marguerite said softly, soothingly. “Do not panic. I may yet be wrong. Why do you not just wait and see? Meet Mirabeau, take care of the task Lucian has set the two of you, and allow nature to take its course.”

Tiny felt his body inhale deeply, then blow out the air taken in, seeming to breathe out the stress and worry suddenly plaguing him along with it. His eyes narrowed on Marguerite. “You’re controlling me,” he said, his voice an accusing rumble.

“Just enough to calm you down,” she said un-apologetically, then beamed at him. “I have great hopes for you and Mirabeau. And if all works out as I hope, I need never worry about losing you to age and time. You will be a member of my family forever.”

Tiny’s eyebrows rose slightly at the words, and he peered down at the top of her head, his hands automatically rising to pat her back as she suddenly hugged him. He said, “I take it Mirabeau is one of your strays then?”

“She has become like a member of our family over time,” Marguerite corrected solemnly as she stepped back. “Thanks to her uncle, she had none of her own.”

Tiny felt amused affection curve his lips. “So you adopted her into yours as you’re wont to do with strays…” Marguerite grimaced at his use of the term strays, but before she could comment, he added solemnly, “But I’m not a stray, Marguerite. I have family…And I am very fond of them. I’m not sure I’d be willing to give them up.”

Worry flickered briefly over Marguerite’s face, but then she smiled. “All will work out. It always does.”

“Always?”

“When you live as long as we do, it usually does,” she assured him with a chuckle, and gave him a gentle push. “Go on. Check and see how the men are doing. The ceremony will be starting soon, and I’m sure Bastien is making himself and everyone else crazy trying to ride herd on all the details. He’s had to arrange, cancel, and rearrange this wedding so many times, I don’t think any of us thought it would ever happen.”

Tiny smiled faintly at the words but merely nodded and turned to head up the hall. His smile died, however, once he’d turned the corner and was out of Marguerite’s sight. His mind immediately played back their conversation as he tried to grasp the fact that she thought he would be a life mate to this Mirabeau gal he was supposed to be working with for the next couple of days. The idea both fascinated and scared the hell out of him. It also absorbed his complete attention so that he practically sleepwalked through the multiple wedding of various members of the Argeneau clan. It was almost a shock when Decker Argeneau Pimms suddenly tapped him on the shoulder, and said, “Our turn to sign,” as he nodded toward the front of the church and the open door behind it, where Lucian Argeneau stood gesturing them forward.

The registry room behind the podium where they were to sign as witnesses to the unions was tiny, far too small for everyone to have fit in at once, so they’d decided to do the witnessing in shifts. Half the group went in to sign first, then they shuffled them out a side door while the other half entered from the podium door to do their own signing. It was how they were going to cover their disappearance from the celebrations that would follow. If Leonius Livius or any of his people were watching, they wouldn’t immediately realize that anyone was missing from the party, and—hopefully—once they did, it would be too late.

“Ready?” Decker asked as he, his mate Dani, and her sister Stephanie stood up beside him.

Tiny stood at once and ushered the trio ahead of him toward Lucian. It was time to concentrate on the task at hand. His assignment was about to begin, and the chances were about fifty-fifty of its being either a walk in the park, or a dangerous, tension-filled job that ended in a bloodbath. Tiny was hoping for the walk in the park. He had no illusions about his chances against a no-fanger…and he was too young to die.

CHAPTER 2

“This is just wrong on so many levels,” Mirabeau muttered to herself, instinctively raising the long skirt of her bridesmaid’s gown a little higher in an effort to keep it from trailing in the sludge surrounding her. Only Lucian Argeneau would even consider sending a woman into the sewers as an escape route and not warn her ahead of time so she could arrange for a suitable change of clothes.

A skittering sound alerted her to the fact that she wasn’t alone. Knowing it was probably rats, Mirabeau instinctively jerked her skirts higher to prevent one of the little buggers from climbing the delicate cloth, but then just as quickly started to lower it as she realized the action left her stockinged legs bare for them to try to climb if they were brave enough. She caught herself before the gown dropped into the inch-deep sewage she stood in and stomped her feet instead to warn off her companions in the dark tunnel. There was no sudden skittering sound of the creatures fleeing up the tunnel; instead, the small sounds stopped altogether, and she knew the rats had frozen and were now no doubt staring at her, their beady little eyes wary or curious. This suggested they were used to and unafraid of humans down here.

“Great,” Mirabeau muttered to herself, then stiffened and glanced upward as she heard sounds from the metal trapdoor she’d descended through from the church basement. She listened to the thump of someone dropping onto the cover above, and to the shuffling sound that followed before there was a second thump that was heavy enough to suggest twice or even three times the weight behind it. Mirabeau was frowning over that when a low grinding followed—the sound that of the trapdoor being unlocked.

She raised a hand to shield her eyes as a flashlight beam suddenly shot directly down into her face.

“Sorry.” The word was a deep rumble as the flashlight beam was moved away from her.

Mirabeau was just fretting over the fact that she didn’t recognize the speaker’s voice when it sounded again, this time a quiet murmur that resembled distant thunder. She caught the soft words, “You go first. I’ll pull the door closed and lock it behind us.”

Those words obviously weren’t directed at her and Mirabeau shifted her hand to see who was descending into the sewer to join her. She had only expected one person, her backup for this assignment, who was supposed to be bringing the package they were to deliver. She’d assumed her backup would be a male. There were few female enforcers in the northern states and Canada, and her usual partner, Eshe, wasn’t available, so the fact that it was a female presently climbing carefully down the slick metal ladder to join her was definitely a surprise. Mirabeau watched the slim figure in a knee-length dress step off the ladder onto the concrete beside her, then glanced to the second person as he started down the ladder as well. Mirabeau had assumed the third person was merely there to close and lock the trapdoor behind them, but while the man pulled the door closed behind him, he too quickly scrambled down the ladder to join her.

Mirabeau automatically moved back to make more room for the large man. When he stepped onto the concrete and turned to face her, she found herself examining the two newcomers in the light thrown by the flashlight the man carried. He held it pointed down at the ground to prevent blinding her again, which she appreciated, but between her night vision and the flashlight, she could see them both as well as if they were out in sunlight.

The female definitely wasn’t her backup, Mirabeau decided. She was little more than a girl and couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen—a child to most people but a baby to someone who had passed more than four hundred and fifty years herself. The child was slender and flat-chested, with long blond hair pulled up on top of her head. The look merely emphasized the youthfulness of her features and her slender neck.

Mirabeau wondered briefly who she was and why she was there. She looked familiar, but Mirabeau couldn’t place where she knew her from. She finally turned her attention to the man. The girl was immediately forgotten. Mirabeau had met a lot of men, both mortal and immortal in her life, but she had met very few who could measure up to this one. He was a good head taller than her own five-foot-ten-inch height. He was also handsome, with dark hair and the sort of rugged features she enjoyed. To add to that, the man was extremely wide, with shoulders a linebacker would envy. That wide chest tapered down to a narrower waist and—from the glimpse she’d gotten as he’d descended the ladder in his dress suit—quite the finest behind she’d seen on a man in a long time. The kind a gal could grasp and dig her nails into to urge him on as he—

“Oh, brother. Not you too.”

Mirabeau blinked at the exasperated words from the teenager and turned to peer at her blankly. Not her too what?

“Not you,” the girl said to her on a sigh, then encompassed both her and the male with a gesture. “Both of you. You’re both standing there thinking about what it would be like to have sex with each other. You’re as bad as my sister and Decker. They’re always lusting after each other…or doing it.” She sighed unhappily, then added, “It’s pathetic…I swear I’m never having sex or finding a life mate if it’s going to turn me into a slavering idiot like the rest of you.”

Mirabeau simply stared at the girl, several thoughts striking her one after the other. First, she now knew who the girl was. The reference to a sister and Decker meant this was Stephanie McGill whose sister was Dani McGill, Decker Argeneau Pimms’s life mate. The girl was a new turn, having been mortal until this last summer, when she’d been kidnapped by a rogue vampire. Every rogue hunter close enough to be of help had been called in to search for the girl, including Mirabeau and her partner Eshe. The kid had been found eventually, but not before the rogue, a no-fanger, had turned her. Fortunately, Stephanie had turned out Edantate rather than a no-fanger. While Edantates had the slight impediment of being unable to grow the fangs most immortals enjoyed, it wasn’t a serious problem now that blood came bagged. No-fangers, however, had that impediment plus a distressing insanity that led them to perform horrible atrocities on the mortals they all depended on to survive. It was for that reason that no-fangers were always hunted down and killed.

Her second thought was that the kid had managed to read their thoughts. It wasn’t surprising to her that Stephanie had read the man’s thoughts since Mirabeau had already picked up on the fact that he was mortal. She couldn’t have explained how. She’d simply sensed it. But it was rather startling that she’d been able to read Mirabeau, herself. She was the girl’s elder by more than four centuries. Stephanie shouldn’t have been able to read her thoughts, at least not if she’d been guarding them which, Mirabeau acknowledged, she might not have been doing. She would have to take care to do so, Mirabeau decided, her mind already moving on to the third thought.

While she’d stood pondering the mortal and noting his physical attributes, she’d been vaguely aware that he was doing the same in return. However, from what Stephanie had said, he had been standing there contemplating having sex with her, or lusting after her as the teenager had so charmingly put it. The thought made Mirabeau smile as she peered back at the man again.

After four and a half centuries, she’d been sexually active for a long time, but she’d found the urge to communicate on such a base level waning this last century. It was good to know she could still lust after a man, and it was always nice to know he lusted back. Perhaps after this assignment she could convince him to—

“Tiny McGraw.”

Mirabeau’s eyebrows rose at the name. It was one she’d heard a lot from Marguerite Argeneau. The woman had mentioned Tiny at least once every time Mirabeau had visited with her since the woman’s return from California, where she’d first met the private detective. Frankly, Mirabeau had grown tired of hearing the name. That thought slid away as a hand suddenly appeared before her at waist level. She automatically placed her own in it, but her eyes widened when her much smaller hand disappeared inside the catcher’s mitt-sized hand that closed warm and strong over her fingers. The man had huge hands, she noted silently, and instinctively glanced down to his feet to note that they too were extremely large.

Jesus, she thought faintly, the man must have a mammoth—

“Oh God! Stop before you make me puke,” Stephanie gasped, then started making gagging sounds to the left of them.

Mirabeau closed her eyes, embarrassment briefly struggling with anger. Anger won out, and she snapped, “Then stay the hell out of my head.”

“I’m not in your head. You’re practically shrieking your thoughts at me,” the girl shot back.

“Er…I’m guessing you’re Mirabeau La Roche, and you two know each other. Or should I make introductions?” Tiny asked uncertainly.

Mirabeau sighed with disappointment at the sense of loss when he released her hand, but then forced herself to straighten and act like the enforcer she was. “Yes, I’m Mirabeau. But no, Stephanie and I have never met. I do know who she is, though. I’ve seen her around the enforcer house,” Mirabeau explained. She then raised her eyebrows. “I gather you’re my backup to deliver the package?”

“Yes, yes, he’s your backup,” Stephanie interrupted impatiently, then added, “And I’m the package. So can we get moving now? It really stinks down here.”

Mirabeau turned narrowed eyes on the girl. She supposed she should have realized what the assignment was the moment she’d recognized the girl. However, she hadn’t. Now she stared at her as the true horror of this situation sank in. She was to deliver Stephanie to Port Henry, which meant at least ten hours trapped in a vehicle with this rude, mouthy teenybopper. She should have cottoned onto that sooner. She’d overheard Lucian, Dani, and Decker talking about the girl’s future at the enforcer house a couple of times. Lucian had insisted that the girl wouldn’t be safe anywhere but at the house with the enforcers around to watch out for her. Dani had insisted that Stephanie be moved, that the girl was miserable there with nothing to do but think of all she’d lost. She needed to have friends, finish high school, and have as normal a life as possible.

Port Henry was obviously the solution they’d come up with. A small town in southern Ontario, it was relatively vampire friendly, with some of the townfolk knowing of their existence and a small group of immortals living there who could help look out for Stephanie. Mirabeau supposed it was the kid’s best chance of a normal life. She just didn’t understand why she and Tiny had been chosen to deliver her. Where were Decker and Dani? Were they not going to live there with her as well?

“Dani and Decker are going on a honeymoon,” Stephanie informed her with a sigh, obviously still reading her thoughts.

“When did they get married?” Mirabeau asked with surprise. Decker was an enforcer, and—having to depend on each other for survival as they did—all the enforcers were a pretty tight group. If Decker had gotten married, she not only should have known about it, but she definitely should have been invited to the wedding and was insulted at the possibility that she hadn’t been.

“No, they aren’t married. This is a prewedding honeymoon. Once they get the worst of the ‘new-mate hormones’—as Dani calls them—out of their systems, they’ll plan the wedding and join me in Port Henry. Until then, that Elvi woman and Lucian’s brother, Victor, are going to put me up and keep me safe.”

Mirabeau peered at the girl, judging her expression. She didn’t seem upset by this turn of events. Rather, there was an almost excited gleam in her eyes, and Mirabeau dipped briefly into the girl’s mind to see that, to her way of thinking, she would be like a border in Elvi’s bed-and-breakfast, and for all intents and purposes she would be free to do as she wished. The thought was heady stuff for a teenager, her first taste of freedom. Mirabeau decided it wasn’t her place to disabuse the kid. She knew Elvi Black, now Argeneau, had lost a daughter of her own sometime ago and suspected the woman would mother the girl and get all in her business. She also knew without a doubt that Victor Argeneau was not going to leave the kid unsupervised. However, she didn’t want a sulky Stephanie for the rest of this assignment so kept her mouth shut.

She also didn’t believe for a moment that Dani McGill had abandoned her sister to travel around working off “new-mate hormones” with Decker. Mirabeau knew that Leonius Livius, the rogue no-fanger who had turned them, was interested in recapturing both sisters. That being the case, she suspected the “new-mate hormones” story had just been a cover to keep Stephanie from worrying about her sister. Mirabeau suspected Lucian had convinced Dani to be bait in a trap to try to catch the no-fanger, and Dani, desperate to see her sister safe, had agreed so long as the girl was somewhere safe and out of the way.

Recalling that Stephanie could read her mind, Mirabeau killed that thought as soon as it occurred, just as she had the thought that Elvi would be more a guardian than a landlady in Port Henry. While she pushed both thoughts aside quickly, Mirabeau did decide she would have to check into the possibility of a trap once this assignment was done and see if they needed help with it. Leo was a tricky bastard who had gotten away from them twice already. If she could help keep it from being three times, she was in.

The rustle of paper drew her attention to Tiny, to see he had pulled a notepad from his pocket and was now leafing through the pages. When he paused with a satisfied murmur, she moved closer and peered at the page he was shining the flashlight beam on. It was a hand-drawn map of the sewers, she saw, noting the church marked clearly on the page as the starting point and the veinlike blue lines running away from it. A path had been marked in red, and it looked pretty convoluted. It seemed Lucian was determined to make it as difficult as possible for anyone to follow them without being noticed. Some of the turns appeared to be close together, and others seemed to bend back the way they’d come. Anyone attempting to follow them would have to stick pretty close to keep from losing them.

She didn’t know why Lucian had gone to all that trouble when he and the others were in the church registry office, where the secret passage leading to the basement and the entrance to the sewers was. But then it occurred to her that the wedding party couldn’t linger in the registry office too long without drawing attention. If Leonius or one of his people had dared to sneak into the church for the ceremony, they might become suspicious at the long delay. They might start reading minds, or notice that Stephanie hadn’t come out of the registry room.

While Lucian was unreadable to most, the entire wedding party had been in the room when Mirabeau entered to sign as a witness to the ceremony for Marguerite and Julius. The others had watched silently as Lucian had taken her arm once she’d finished signing and ushered her to the secret panel, explaining that her partner was in the second group of witnesses and would soon join her with the package. While some of the others in the wedding party were older and harder to read, an equal number were new turns, easily read whether they wished it or not. It wouldn’t take long for someone to figure out where Stephanie McGill had disappeared to, she realized, and decided they had wasted enough time. They needed to get moving.

Tiny appeared to be thinking along the same lines, for he was already closing the notepad and slipping it back into his pocket. He shined his flashlight up the tunnel, saying, “We’d better get moving. We go this way past three offshoots and turn right at the fourth.”

Mirabeau lifted her skirts a bit and nodded as she turned in the direction they were to head. “I’ll lead. Stephanie, you’re in the middle. Tiny will bring up the rear.”

“Do you need the flashlight?” Tiny asked, then smiled wryly when she turned back to him. She guessed her eyes were glowing bronze in the darkness as they caught and reflected what light there was down there because he muttered, “Right. Of course not. Lead the way.”

Deciding he was smart for a mortal, Mirabeau turned away and started up the tunnel, careful to keep her skirts out of the sewage surrounding them.

They walked in silence, Mirabeau leading them through two of the turns into offshoot tunnels before it occurred to her that if there was trouble, it was likely to come from behind and that perhaps leaving Tiny, who was mortal, to guard their back wasn’t the smartest move. Aside from the fact that she thought it would be a shame for such a fine-looking mortal male to die, she figured Marguerite would be upset if she let it happen. Unfortunately, Mirabeau suspected Marguerite would be upset if she insulted the guy too. The woman was pretty fond of him. The problem was that mortal males could be so touchy about their manhood and appearing strong and capable. She was going to have to come up with a lie to get him to trade places with her.

When they had reached the third offshoot, Mirabeau paused and turned back.

CHAPTER 3

Tiny was considering Marguerite’s suggestion that he might be a life mate to Mirabeau. Now that he’d met the woman in question, he found the possibility a fascinating one. He was trying to recall all the reasons he shouldn’t feel that way when Stephanie suddenly stopped in front of him. His nerves immediately on the alert for a possible threat, he glanced to Mirabeau to find she’d stopped and was walking back toward him. Tiny relaxed when he saw her expression. She looked neither grim nor urgent with warning. In fact, Mirabeau’s expression was almost pained, and her words stilted as she said, “I was thinking…perhaps it would be better if you lead the way after all. It is very dark in here, and you have the flashlight.”

Tiny glanced down at the flashlight in his hand, then back to Mirabeau. He had no doubt she was lying about the reason for wanting him in the front. He had spent enough time around immortals to know his weak little beam wasn’t needed by them to see. Hell, he thought, it was probably as bright as daylight in there to the two females. He just didn’t understand why she suddenly wanted him in the lead.

“She’s worried you’ll get yourself killed at the back of the pack, and Marguerite would never forgive her. She’s spooked herself with visions of you being attacked from behind and beheaded or something,” Stephanie said with a teenager’s amusement, answering the question he hadn’t asked. “She’s just crap at coming up with a lie to get you at the front of the group.”

Mirabeau scowled at the girl, then glanced to Tiny. “It did occur to me that I would have a better chance of hearing if we were approached from behind, and since that’s where the trouble is most likely to come from—”

“Enough said,” Tiny interrupted, managing not to visibly wince at the reality behind her words. Despite her efforts to ease the blow, his ego had taken a hit. At six-seven and two hundred eighty pounds of pure muscle, he wasn’t used to being considered the weak member of the herd. In fact, it was only recently that he’d been forced to face the fact that he was…at least among immortals. For ten years, Tiny’s partner had been a female who was mortal like him. Jackie had been a tiny little thing, and while he’d always known and respected that she could handle herself, he’d still been the brawn in the partnership. But when Jackie had met Vincent and gone off to be his life mate, Tiny had found himself partnered with Marguerite Argeneau for a European case, and his vision of himself had been altered with a vengeance. That little lady, nearly a foot shorter and less than half his weight was beautiful, sweet, and could tuck him under her arm and run down the road as if he weighed no more than a child. And Tiny didn’t doubt for a minute that either of the two delicate flowers of womanhood before him could do the same thing.

He was still big and brawny, but Tiny was the fragile one who needed looking after. How depressing was that? Tiny pondered the question as he started to ease around Stephanie to get to Mirabeau’s side, but quickly forgot it when Mirabeau suddenly gave a choked cry of surprise.

He instinctively jerked his flashlight upward at the sound, flashing the beam in her face and blinding her briefly. Tiny saw her eyes squeeze shut against the light and instinctively started to lower the beam but paused as he glimpsed the figure behind her. It was a man, shorter than Mirabeau, just the top of his head and squinting eyes showing over her shoulder. They were not an immortal’s eyes. The man was a mortal like Tiny, but much dirtier, he noted, taking in the scruffy, unwashed hair and dirt smudged across the man’s forehead. A homeless guy, then, he deduced, probably someone who lived in and wandered the sewers, not much of a threat to Mirabeau. Or at least, he shouldn’t have been, but the guy was presently holding Mirabeau by the hair that had been swept up on the back of her head in a bun and tugging her head back at what looked to be an uncomfortable angle.

Tiny hesitated, expecting Mirabeau simply to take control of the man’s mind and make him release her, but instead, she reacted in what he suspected was a purely instinctive move and raised her knee to shoot her foot back at the man in a blow that probably would have taken out his kneecap if she’d finished it. Unfortunately, Mirabeau’s long gown got in the way, caught her up, and made her lose her balance and her footing. Her eyes and mouth shot open with surprise as she began to fall. Tiny tried to get around Stephanie to save her, but arrived just in time almost to be knocked to the ground by her flailing legs as she crashed to her bottom in the tunnel.

Tiny managed to save himself by grabbing at the wall beside him. Then he started to reach for Mirabeau, but paused and raised the flashlight beam at a groan from the mouth of the tunnel. The circle of light lit up the man, revealing his dirty clothes and matted hair, as well as the fact that he now held what appeared to be half of Mirabeau’s hair in his hand. For one moment, Tiny thought the fellow had scalped her, but then recalled Marguerite saying they had done something to cover the fuchsia tints in Mirabeau’s hair and realized this was what it had been. They must have put extensions or something on, he thought, as he quickly flashed the beam toward Mirabeau to see that while the sides, freed from the bun, now hung down over her shoulders in a pure, dark color, there were pink tips sticking out in every direction on the back of her head.

Her attacker didn’t seem to realize he’d merely removed some of her extensions. The man was gaping at the clump of hair he held with horror, but the moment the flashlight beam hit him, the fellow squinted and turned his attention from the hair he held to the source of the beam. When he did, Tiny shifted the flashlight so that the circle of light included his large frame and simply murmured, “Boo.”

That was all it took. As usual—at least among mortals—his size alone made an impact and persuaded the man that he didn’t want to mess with him after all. Releasing a startled squeak of alarm, the fellow dropped the hair, quickly shuffled backward, and turned to hurry away, almost immediately disappearing into the darkness.

Tiny waited until the sounds of the man’s departure grew faint, then moved to help Mirabeau. She was floundering around in the water, trying to regain her feet, but was hampered by her gown, which was thoroughly soaked. It kept tripping her up and unceremoniously sending her back to sit in the sludge. Stephanie, he noted, was simply watching it all, her mouth agape and eyes full of horror. He supposed it was what Mirabeau was floundering around in that had caused the reaction. He tried hard not to think of that himself as he murmured, “Here,” and handed Stephanie the flashlight.

The girl managed to gather herself enough to take it from him, and the moment she had, he shifted carefully around Mirabeau, managing to avoid her flailing legs, and get behind her. Tiny then simply hooked his hands under her arms and hefted her quickly to her feet.

“Thank you,” Mirabeau muttered, the sound a sort of breathless growl as she got her feet under her. Tiny waited to be sure she had her footing, but then let his hands drop and took a quick step away from her. He didn’t mean to offend, but couldn’t help himself. The smell down here was bad enough when just walking through it, but Mirabeau had stirred it up with her struggle, and the odor seemed to have intensified and attached itself to her at a concentrated level. The woman he had spent a good portion of the walk lusting after smelled like a backed-up toilet. It tended to dampen his ardor a bit. Probably a good thing, he decided. After all, they had a job to do.

Retrieving the flashlight from Stephanie, Tiny flashed it over Mirabeau and winced at the state of her dress. If he hadn’t seen her in the wedding party back at the church, he would have thought it was a peach top paired with a long brownish black skirt rather than a peach dress. The gown was definitely ruined. He wasn’t the only one to notice. Mirabeau was gaping down at herself with a horror that surpassed Stephanie’s. She glanced around furiously, and growled, “Where is he?”

“He’s gone,” Tiny said, thinking it was probably lucky for the guy that he was. “It was just some homeless guy. He took off when he got a look at me.”

He wasn’t surprised when, rather than look relieved, Mirabeau appeared disappointed by this news. He suspected she’d wanted to throttle the man for grabbing her and causing the state she now found herself in. He simply waited patiently as she stared at him with impotent fury, wondering if she would take out her rage and frustration on him…and if he would let her. In the end, she merely cursed and looked at her mud-covered hands with disgust. Tiny was about to offer to sacrifice his suit jacket for her to wipe her hands on when she managed to find a small patch on the front of her skirt that had escaped the soaking. He watched in silence as she wiped her hands on it, then forced an encouraging smile when she again glanced his way.

The sight of it made her sigh, and say, “I guess we should get moving.”

“Yes, I guess,” he agreed quietly.

Mirabeau nodded, then moved toward the tunnel entrance on his left, only to pause as the skirt of the gown wrapped itself around her legs. She nearly lost her balance again, and Tiny immediately reached to steady her, but she waved him off and managed to keep her balance on her own. She then glanced down at the gown with distaste.

“You might as well,” Stephanie said quietly. “It’s ruined anyway.”

Tiny knew the kid was reading Mirabeau’s mind again, but wasn’t sure what she was suggesting until Mirabeau suddenly bent, grabbed up the hem of her dress, found one side seam and began to rip it apart. She split it all the way up, well past her knees, then quickly tore sideways, ripping away the bottom three-quarters of the skirt all the way around. Once finished, Mirabeau was wearing a dress that only covered her to midthigh.

“It’s a little short,” she judged as she straightened and tossed the detached material aside. She then added wryly, “But I can move more easily, and I won’t be restricted if I need to fight.”

“Yes,” Tiny agreed absently, barely aware of growling the word as he took in her stockinged legs. The skirt now started where the tops of her stocking seams ended. Every time she shifted, it flashed a tantalizing hint of flesh. The stockings themselves were black net and covered what appeared to him at that moment to be nearly a mile of leg.

Jesus, the woman is all leg, he thought. And fine legs they were too, muscular, but still slender and feminine, tapering down to tiny little ankles.

“It’s my own fault,” Mirabeau commented with self-disgust as she peered down at herself. “I should have checked that the offshoot was empty before turning my back to it.”

“Didn’t you hear him approach?”

Stephanie asked the question in an innocent voice, but Tiny suspected she was taunting Mirabeau. It made him frown at the teenager. The girl obviously had a chip on her shoulder, but then he supposed she had earned it. She’d been through a great deal this last year. Fortunately, Mirabeau didn’t seem to suspect the question was a jab at her. She merely frowned toward the offshoot and shook her head.

“Come to think of it, no I didn’t.” She moved to the mouth of the tunnel on his right and peered into the darkness. “He must have already been standing here just inside the entrance to the tunnel and simply waited when he saw us approaching. He would have seen the flashlight from a good distance.”

“Waited for what purpose?” Stephanie asked curiously. “What did he want? Besides your hair?”

The last was added on a burble of amusement, but Mirabeau just shrugged and swung back toward them. “Who knows? He wasn’t right in the head…which is why I couldn’t control him when he grabbed me, but I caught enough of his chaotic thoughts to know that he thought we were rats.”

“Rats?” Tiny asked with amazement, finally managing to tear his eyes from her legs.

Mirabeau nodded silently in the beam of light he lifted to her face.

“Talking, human-sized rats?” Stephanie asked doubtfully.

“He couldn’t see us in the dark, just the flashlight beam,” Mirabeau pointed out, then added, “And from what I got from his thoughts, he’s always suspected there were mutant human-sized rats down here. In his mind even the little rats talk to him.”

“Oh,” Stephanie murmured, and Tiny echoed her comment in his head, as his gaze shifted past Mirabeau to the tunnel the little madman had disappeared down. He kind of felt bad now for scaring the poor bastard. The guy needed help.

“Well…I guess we should keep going,” Mirabeau murmured suddenly, but she didn’t move except to glance the way they’d come, then back down the tunnel she stood in front of. Knowing she was no longer sure where he would be safest, at the front of the party or the back, Tiny made up her mind for her and slid past her. He shined the flashlight down the tunnel and followed the beam, moving slowly at first until he was sure Stephanie and Mirabeau were following him.

Mirabeau might be concerned about someone’s following them, but so far there had been no sign of that. He was more concerned about running into more underground crazies wandering the sewers. While Tiny felt bad for them, he didn’t feel so bad that he was willing to risk one of the girls getting hurt.

CHAPTER 4

Mirabeau paused when Stephanie did and glanced expectantly toward Tiny. He had the map out again and was peering at it, running his flashlight around the area, then peering at the map again, his eyebrows drawing together in a way that made her uneasy. Eager to keep moving and get the hell out of the endless tunnels, she shifted impatiently, then grimaced as her skirt shifted with her. The damned thing was drying and attaching itself to her as it did. So were her panties…and it was damned uncomfortable.

“What is it?” she asked finally, as Tiny repeated the map-checking and area-scanning deal again. She moved around Stephanie to his side to peer at the map.

“I think we took a wrong turn.”

“What?” she gasped with disbelief, her eyes scanning the map. Much to her relief there was a tunnel offshoot on the map just as there was here in the tunnel. Relieved, she said, “No. It was two offshoots after the last turn, then this one we take. We passed two offshoots since the last turn, so we take this one.”

“Yes,” Tiny agreed patiently, then pointed out, “But according to the map there should be another offshoot across from this one and—” He raised the flashlight to shine it over the wall opposite. “No offshoot.”

Mirabeau stared blankly at the solid wall, then at the map, but it didn’t suddenly change. Cursing, she took the map from him and, using her finger, silently backtracked on it, counting off the offshoots they’d passed between each one they’d taken, trying to see where they had made a wrong turn. She retraced their steps all the way back to where she’d been grabbed and fallen.

“Crap,” she breathed unhappily as she stared at the map.

“What?” Tiny asked, leaning close to peer at the map as well.

“Everything seems fine,” she said quietly. “From what I can tell, we took the right turns according to the map. The only thing I can think is…” Mirabeau fell silent and simply pointed to the two tunnels side by side.

“That was back near the beginning, the third turn,” Tiny murmured thoughtfully, looking at where she pointed, then he straightened slightly. “That’s where that guy—”

“Yes,” Mirabeau interrupted on a sigh. “I’m thinking we may have taken the wrong tunnel. If they’re right next to each other, we might have gotten a bit turned around after the attack.”

Tiny cursed and glanced back the way they’d come. Then he sighed, and said, “We’ll have to backtrack. See if that’s where we—”

“But that was hours ago,” Stephanie protested, moving up beside them to peer at the map as well. “Look, it’s practically all the way back at the beginning. I am not slogging back through these tunnels just to start over again. Besides, what if you’re wrong, and we just counted off wrong at one of the other turns?”

“We didn’t count off wrong,” Mirabeau said quietly. “We’ve both been counting. It has to be that we took the wrong tunnel at that stop.”

“Well, then, maybe the map is wrong,” Stephanie argued desperately. “People make mistakes, even Lucian must make mistakes once in a while.” Her desperation turning to rebellion, she crossed her arms, and snapped, “I am so not backtracking. You’ll have to knock me out and carry me because I am not walking back all that way only to start again. I’m tired and hungry and sick to death of this stink. I want a shower and a bed and blood. I just want out of here,” she ended with frustration.

Silence filled the tunnel as Stephanie snapped her mouth closed. She was sulking. Mirabeau didn’t much care so long as she did it silently. Her mind was taken up with the words “shower and a bed and blood” all of which she rather wanted herself. They hadn’t been in the tunnels for hours, maybe an hour and a half, and she suspected that had they taken the right tunnel, they would have been out of the sewers long ago.

“A bed?” Tiny asked quietly. “It’s only a little after midnight, Stephanie. That’s the middle of the day for you now, isn’t it?”

The teenager clucked with disgust. “We aren’t vampires, Tiny. Heck, I don’t even have fangs, and I don’t stay up all night and sleep all day. As long as I avoid the sun, I can stay up during the day. Besides, there’s nothing on television at night, just old movies and crappy shows selling crappy gizmos.” She sighed. “I usually go to bed by midnight or so.”

When Tiny glanced her way and raised an eyebrow, Mirabeau merely shrugged. She herself usually stayed up nights and slept days. However, she hadn’t had much sleep today. There had been too much to do to get ready for the wedding. She wouldn’t mind a nap herself. Blood sounded pretty good too. As for a shower, Mirabeau thought she’d kill for one just then…and a change of clothes. Dear God, she wanted out of those sewers as well, and she was not riding ten hours in an SUV in sewage-soaked clothes.

That thought at the forefront of her mind, Mirabeau handed the map to Tiny and turned back the way they’d come.

“Where are you going?” Stephanie snapped with dismay, hurrying after her. “I told you, I’m not walking back through the tunnels.”

“And yet you’re following me,” she pointed out dryly and wasn’t surprised when the teenager stopped abruptly.

“Only to tell you I’m not going,” she said shrilly, as Mirabeau continued up the dark tunnel.

“Fine. You stay here and sulk. But we passed a manhole to the surface a few minutes back, and I’m using it to get the hell out of the sewers,” Mirabeau said calmly.

“Really?” The excited and surprised squeal was followed by the tapping of the girl’s shoes on the concrete as she hurried to catch up to her. Mirabeau had expected as much.

Tiny followed more quietly so that she nearly missed the sounds of his approach before she heard him murmur, “What’s the plan here?”

Mirabeau sighed to herself and paused. They were supposed to be partners, but she wasn’t used to having mortal partners, or even male ones for that matter. Eshe usually thought pretty much along the same lines as she did, so that they rarely disagreed or even needed to discuss matters. The other woman would have been leading the way to get out of the sewers, but she suspected Tiny was going to have a problem with it. He was probably one of those by-the-book guys.

“The plan,” she said quietly, “is to get out of here, check into a hotel, shower this crap off, get us all a change of clothes and food, catch a nap, then find the SUV before dawn to head out of the city.”

“Yay!” Stephanie squealed happily and did a little dance on the concrete.

Mirabeau felt her mouth twitch but managed to keep from smiling, and said solemnly to Tiny, “Lucian provided the name of the parking garage on the map. It should be easy to find topside. If it’s as far away as I suspect it is, we can take a taxi and wipe the driver’s mind when he drops us off.”

Tiny stared at her silently through the gloom for so long, she was positive that he was going to balk and insist they stick to the plan Lucian had given them; but, much to her surprise, he nodded, and simply said, “There doesn’t appear to be anyone following us, and it beats driving ten hours in these clothes.”

Mirabeau relaxed and allowed a smile to curve her lips, until he added, “Now we just have to worry about there being a hotel within walking distance.”

She frowned over the words briefly, then shook her head. “You can’t walk a block without tripping over a hotel in this town. There has to be one close by.”

Despite the brave words, Mirabeau was worried that the offshoot they’d wrongly taken had led them to a part of New York City that didn’t have any hotels. With that worry on her mind, she led the way back to the ladder to the surface that they’d passed sometime ago. Tiny offered to go up first and see if he could open the manhole at the top, but Mirabeau merely shook her head and began to climb. She suspected they had special locks or something on manhole covers to prevent people from messing with them and a little muscle might be needed to get it open. Tiny had a lot of muscle…for a mortal, but she had more.

“Can you tell where we are?” Tiny asked, as she got the cover open and eased it upward to look out.

Mirabeau took a moment to peer around as much as she could. They were near a corner, but a parked van blocked the street signs from her view.

“Where are we?” Stephanie said impatiently.

“I’m not sure, but there’s a hotel across the street,” Mirabeau answered. She noted that the driver of the van was off-loading trays of what appeared to be food and fresh vegetables. She supposed it was easier to make deliveries at night when the streets weren’t so congested. Turning, she peered at the duo at the foot of the ladder. “Come on. We’ll check into the hotel, then sort out where we are.”

Stephanie was halfway up the ladder behind her before the last word had left Mirabeau’s mouth. Smiling wryly, Mirabeau shifted the manhole out of the way and quickly climbed out to crouch on the street before Stephanie trampled over her to get out. Tiny was right behind the girl and helped Mirabeau shift the manhole back into place before they straightened and moved to the side of the road. Traffic was slower at night in New York, but it wasn’t nonexistent, and they had been fortunate to climb out when they had. They’d no sooner stepped up onto the curb than a taxi came flying past.

“Maybe you girls should wait here and let me go in and rent the room,” Tiny said quietly, ushering them away from the curb.

Mirabeau shook her head at once. “I’ll get the rooms. If anyone has realized that you’re missing too, they might figure out that you’re with Stephanie and try to track your credit cards.”

“The same is true of you,” Tiny argued with a frown.

“Yes, but I don’t need to use a credit card,” Mirabeau pointed out dryly, and started up the sidewalk toward the front of the hotel.

“Just a minute,” Tiny said, catching her arm. “Maybe this is a bad idea after all. You two are pretty memorable in the state you’re in. If anyone comes around asking questions—”

“They won’t find any trace of us in the memories of the people we encounter,” she finished quietly.

Tiny met her gaze briefly, then nodded. Mirabeau actually felt the relieved breath Stephanie exhaled. The girl needn’t have worried. Though they were out of the sewers, their stink was still all Mirabeau could smell. They’d brought the stench with them, and she was determined to get rid of the stink if it was the last thing she did. She wasn’t going to change her mind about a stop at the hotel.

Turning, she led the way to the hotel entrance, slipping quickly into the doorman’s mind as he approached—no doubt to stop them entering. She watched his face go blank and his eyes shift away as they passed, then turned her attention to the people in the lobby. Much to her relief, it was late enough that there were few people around. A gentleman sat reading a newspaper on one of the sofas. He started to raise his head to glance their way but simply lowered it again once she touched on his thoughts. He would not look up again until they had left the lobby. A young, overly made-up blond clerk stood at the desk. Her eyes went from sleepy to horrified and back to sleepy as Mirabeau approached and slipped into her thoughts. Then the woman began to tap on her keyboard, took two keycards out of a drawer full of them, ran them through a machine, tucked them in a small cardboard holder, and scribbled a room number on it before handing it to Mirabeau, all without lifting her eyes from the keyboard.

Mirabeau took the packet and turned to lead the way to the elevators, her eyes sweeping the lobby one more time to be sure she hadn’t missed anyone. That was when she spotted the small store in one corner of the lobby.

“What is it?” Tiny asked, when she paused.

Mirabeau hesitated, her eyes slipping to the girl at the counter once more. A quick read of the clerk’s mind made her frown and sigh. Continuing forward, she murmured, “Nothing. Let’s go.”

The elevator doors opened the moment Mirabeau pushed the button. She stepped on board and hit the button for their floor, then glanced to Tiny as he followed Stephanie on board. She noted the way he glanced worriedly back at the lobby as if suspecting she had sensed trouble. Not wanting him to worry about nothing, she admitted, “I just noticed the little store in the lobby. It had clothes and other things in there, and I thought maybe I could get a change of clothes for all of us, but the girl at reception didn’t have a key. Only the hotel manager and the store owner do, and neither of them is around the hotel at this hour.”

“Oh.” Tiny relaxed. He then cleared his throat, and asked carefully, “So, we aren’t paying for the hotel room?”

Mirabeau’s eyebrows rose at the question. His careful tone suggested he wasn’t too comfortable with the idea, and she frowned over the matter, then shrugged and said, “When we get to Port Henry, I’ll call Bastien, and he can send someone to take care of it.”

Tiny nodded, his shoulders easing even farther in his suit jacket, and Mirabeau found herself staring at him curiously. Most people wouldn’t have troubled themselves about borrowing a hotel room for a couple hours without paying for it, but she already knew from the countless tales Marguerite Argeneau had told her about this man that he had a thread of honor as strong as steel running through him. She found it somewhat refreshing.

“More like stupid,” Stephanie muttered. “It’s not like they’d notice. Obviously, no one’s using the room she gave us.”

“Rooms. I got us a suite,” Mirabeau murmured, scowling at the girl. It was bad enough she kept reading her thoughts, but insulting Tiny just wasn’t on in her books. The mortal was putting his life at risk to see the girl safely to Port Henry. A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.

“Whatever,” Stephanie mumbled, obviously still caught up in her own thoughts, but she also looked a bit chagrined, so she obviously got the silent reprimand in Mirabeau’s thoughts.

“Am I missing something?” Tiny asked quietly, drawing her gaze again.

“Nothing important,” Mirabeau assured him, as the elevator doors opened.

CHAPTER 5

The suite was two normal hotel rooms connected by a living/dining area, with a dining table and chairs at one end and a couch, chair, and television at the other. It wasn’t very grand, but then the hotel wasn’t exactly one of the grand ones either.

It would do for their needs, Mirabeau decided as she glanced over their accommodations.

“I get this room,” Stephanie announced peering into the bedroom on the right. She then turned and arched an eyebrow as she asked, “Which one of you gets the other and which one takes the couch?”

“Nice try,” Mirabeau growled, tossing the packet of room keys on the dining table. “You and I get that room. Tiny gets the other.”

“No way. I’m not sleeping with you,” she protested at once. “You probably snore.”

Mirabeau scowled, her patience snapping, but before she could blast her, Tiny said lightly, “I wouldn’t be so hasty. Your options are Mirabeau in the second bed in your room, or me…And I do snore.” When Stephanie opened her mouth, probably to protest further, he added, “It’s that or we go find the SUV right now and head out as we are. You can’t be left alone until we get you safely to Port Henry. There’s still a chance Leonius or one of his men could find us.”

Stephanie snapped her mouth closed, then huffed, “Fine. Mirabeau then. But I’m telling Lucian how awful you two are as bodyguards.” She whirled away, adding, “I’m taking a bath. A long one. You both stink, and I can’t stand it anymore.” On that charming note, she stomped into the bathroom of the room she was to share with Mirabeau and slammed the door behind her.

Mirabeau growled and started forward, murder on her mind, but Tiny caught her arm. When she turned furiously on him, he said soothingly, “You can use my bathroom.”

“She—” Mirabeau began, but he interrupted.

“Is a teenager who was kidnapped, subjected to who knows what horrors, and turned against her will. In the process, she lost her whole family except her sister and she’s now losing her, at least temporarily, while she’s hidden away in some podunk town in southern Ontario.”

Mirabeau found a smile tugging at her lips at his words. “Podunk?”

“Her word,” he said wryly.

Mirabeau nodded. She hadn’t paid attention to what they were discussing but had been aware that Tiny and Stephanie had chatted quietly as they’d traveled through the tunnels. It seemed that the girl had been airing her grievances, and she did have more than her fair share. Stephanie had been through a lot, Mirabeau acknowledged, and forced herself to relax. She took a deep, cleansing breath, then murmured, “You’re very patient with her.”

“I’m a patient guy.” He grinned, and Mirabeau found herself relaxing completely and grinning back. The moment she did, Tiny patted the arm he’d grabbed, then stepped away. “Go on. Take a bath in my room. Take as long as you want. I’m going to go out and see if I can scrounge up some food for us.”

Mirabeau bit her lip as she watched him walk to the door, suddenly worried about his being on his own. She didn’t think anyone had followed them, but there was a slight possibility they had, and she didn’t like the idea of his being alone if that were the case. She also knew saying so probably wasn’t the smart thing to do. The guy wouldn’t appreciate her fretting over him as if he couldn’t take care of himself, so instead she said, “Don’t you want to at least shower or something first?”

“And get back into these stinky clothes?” Tiny asked dryly, pausing at the door. He glanced back to peer at her and smiled faintly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Take a bath, then maybe talk to Stephanie.”

“Talk to her?” Mirabeau asked with dismay, forgetting her worry for him. “What about?”

“About what she’s been through,” he said quietly. “Other than her sister, you can probably help her more than anyone.”

“Me?” Mirabeau squeaked with disbelief. “What makes you think I—?”

“Because you lost your entire family at a young age too, didn’t you?” he said quietly. “Of anyone, you should understand at least part of what she’s going through.”

Mirabeau felt herself closing up. It was as if something was squeezing tight around her. The slaughter of her family was a

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 765