She retreated a couple of steps, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath.

She said, “I’m Melisande Aindris, and I’ve been kidnapped. I’ll pay someone thirty thousand dollars for a bike with gas in the tank, along with a jacket and a helmet, and a cell phone…” She had to pause to suck more air. “And does anybody have a gun?”

There was a concerted rush toward her. The bartender leaped over the bar, joining the rest as they jostled and shoved each other. Disoriented and overwhelmed, Melly backed up.

When all the movement finally stopped, Melly found herself pressing back against a wall, and every biker in the place extended a gun toward her, handgrip forward. Two were sawed-off shotguns. As she stared at them, a bearded fellow extended his other hand, offering a switchblade as well.

One of them said, “I realize this might not be a good time, but sometime when you’re having a better day, can I get your autograph?”

Another man snapped, “Seriously, George. Not appropriate right now.”

The first one whispered, “I know, I know, just – when am I ever gonna get the chance to ask?”

Blinking rapidly, she told the man named George, “Sure. You can have my autograph later.” Focusing at random on a semiautomatic pistol, she grabbed for it. As the owner relinquished his hold on the weapon, she asked, “How many rounds?”

He said, “Twenty. It’s fully loaded.”

She asked, “Do you have a PayPal account?”

He nodded, his dark eyes intent.

She met his gaze. “I have no time right now. My friend is in big trouble, and I have to go help him. As soon as I know he’s all right, I’ll transfer the money into your account. Okay?”

Rolling one big shoulder in a laconic shrug, he reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out another gun. “I’ll come with you. Gotta protect my investment.”

Big and dangerous as he looked, he was still human. If he came up against Justine, he would be dead meat, but she wasn’t about to waste precious moments arguing with him, not when Julian’s life might be in danger.

She told him, “Fine, but we’ve got to go now.”

As they strode out the door, they were followed by a stampede of the other bikers, including the bartender. Her biker led her to a late-model Harley. He tossed a helmet at her, and she jammed it on her head, while he mounted the bike, started it and revved the motor.

“Climb on,” he said.

She leaped on behind him and grabbed handfuls of his jacket. “What are the others doing?”

He sent an amused glance over his shoulder. “Famous blond bombshell walks into a bar and mentions a shitload of money, guns and trouble all in the same breath. They would die before they stayed behind. Where are we going?”

Tucking in her chin, she told him. With a mechanical roar, he pulled onto the street, followed by the rest.

With transportation, it took only a few minutes to retrace her steps. When they neared the tunnel entrance, she looked around frantically. She knew it was the right place. She recognized it. The heavy iron grate was still pushed out of place, but neither Julian nor Justine were anywhere in sight.

Her biker pulled to a smooth stop several feet away from the hole. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the growl of all the motorcycles. “You sure this is it?”

“Yes,” she snapped. Dismounting, she tore off the helmet and ran over to the tunnel entrance.

Inside, part of her screamed, no, no, no. Desperately, she searched the ground as several of the bikers joined her.

Would she be able to tell if Justine had staked Julian, and he had turned to dust? Had he been carrying anything metal on him?

With a quick glance upward, she noticed the bright, hot line of sunshine that bisected the nearby warehouse. When she had left, the wall had been entirely in shadow.

Taking in a deep breath, she shouted, “Julian!”

One agonized heartbeat. Two.

As the noise from the motorcycles died down, Julian’s gravelly reply sounded clearly. “Here.”

His voice came from below, down the open mouth of the tunnel. The relief that washed over her was inexpressible. Melly lunged toward the hole and leaped into it, ignoring the alarmed exclamations that followed her. She landed with a thud that jarred her teeth.

After being outside for so long, the shadows in the tunnel seemed impenetrable. Despite that, she stumbled forward blindly, until with a small click, Julian turned on the flashlight to light her way.

He sat several feet away from the daylight streaming in through the open hole, his long legs stretched in front of him. She fell to her knees at his side, and he hooked one arm around her neck, snatching her close. After hugging him, she sat back and ran her anxious gaze over his torso.

“What happened? I saw her knife you. How badly are you hurt?”

“I’ll live,” he said. “I broke both of her collarbones and tore up her clothes. She wasn’t able to get any strength behind her blows, and without adequate sun protection, she decided she had an urgent appointment elsewhere.” He looked behind her and coughed out a laugh. “I see you brought back reinforcements.”

She glanced behind her in time to see her biker, along with two other men, drop into the hole. With the addition of three large males, the already tight quarters grew even more cramped. Julian’s arm tensed, but he didn’t move. She knew if he had been uninjured, at the very least, he would have placed himself between her and the other men. That alone told her how bad off he was. He certainly wouldn’t have remained sitting.

Her biker took in an audible breath. He said to her, “When you said you had a friend in trouble, you didn’t mention he was the Nightkind King.”

She told him, “I was in a hurry.”

Without preamble, Julian said, “I need blood. Are you, or any of your men, willing to donate? I’ll pay.”

Her biker came forward to kneel on one knee. “You’re on the hunt for those responsible for killing all those people, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Julian watched the other man with a guarded expression.

The biker held out his wrist. “I’ve given blood to a Vampyre before. No need to pay me. Ms. Aindris will be compensating me very well already. But if you need more than I can give, you might have to pay the others.”

Julian took his wrist. “Do you take drugs? Don’t bother lying. I’ll know if you do.”