“That’s . . .”

“Fantastic,” he said, his praise warming her.

“Yes. But it’s also worrisome. I didn’t expect it to do that, so I have to wonder what else it might do that I didn’t anticipate.”

He shrugged off her concern. “It worked perfectly. I feel a bit tired, but otherwise am myself.”

Étienne raised his eyebrows. “What you did at UNC is normal for you?”

Uh-oh. “What did you do?” Melanie asked.

Bastien shot the Frenchman a warning glare. “Only what needed to be done.”

“Could you be a little more specific?”

“No.”

When no more was forthcoming, Melanie shook her head. “I’m going to hear about it eventually.” She pushed the covers back, revealing a standard hospital gown that covered her to her knees. “If not from the network rumor mill than from Cliff or Joe. Those guys hear everything around here. If Mr. Reordon bitches about it—and I’m guessing from the looks you’re getting from the d’Alençons that he will—then Cliff and Joe will hear it.”

Bastien shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glanced at the French immortals, and looked for all the world like a little boy not wanting to cop to hitting a baseball through the window. “I . . . brought your shooter to justice.”

“Thank you.” She had no problem with his killing the man who would’ve succeeded in killing her had Roland not been available to aid her. That shooter had known nothing of Roland and his healing ability. So when he had shot her, he had meant for her to die. “Was there just the one?”

Bastien had been attacked by a dozen or more last night. A lone gunman seemed odd. Unless Emrys’s operation was smaller than they had guessed.

“No. There were others,” Bastien said, seeming to steel himself.

“How many?”

“I lost count.”

She eyed his bloody clothing. What exactly had he done?

“I killed them,” he stated.

“All of them?”

She let that sink in as he stood stoically before her.

Did he think she would condemn him? This was war. She knew well what this group was capable of, what they would do if they got their hands on any of the immortals or on Ami. Clearly they believed human Seconds, which they must have thought her, were expendable.

Bastien looked so grim.

If the others weren’t here, she’d put her arms around him and comfort him. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed the killing.

“He did tonight,” Étienne said darkly.

Bastien frowned at him. “Who did what?”

“Because they hurt me,” she said.

Bastien’s expression darkened as his gaze ping-ponged between them. “Stop reading her thoughts.”

You would defend him?

The unfamiliar voice in her head startled her. Yes. Wouldn’t you?

I saw the bodies.

I assume you’ve also seen his thoughts.

A look of unease passed over the immortal’s attractive face.

When Bastien took a menacing step toward Étienne, Melanie swung her legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward to snag Bastien’s hand.

He glanced back.

She met Étienne’s gaze squarely. You’ve seen his thoughts? she repeated.

Yes.

Did he kill for the hell of it? Did he kill for the fun of it? Or did he kill them because they tried to kill me?

Bastien gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Dr. Lipton?”

Étienne sighed. “You may as well drop the formality. One, I’ve heard your thoughts and know your concern for her extends beyond that of a work colleague. And two, I’ve seen your thoughts and keep coming across her naked.”

Richart tried without success to choke back a laugh. “Nothing to say?”

A muscle in Bastien’s cheek jumped. “I’m debating over whether or not I should kick Étienne’s ass for seeing Melanie naked.”

Richart burst into laughter.

“It wasn’t real! It was fantasy!” his brother protested.

“I don’t care. She was naked.”

Melanie felt heat bloom in her cheeks and didn’t know why the hell she should feel embarrassed. It wasn’t as if she really were naked. As Étienne had said, they were talking about fantasies he had seen in Bastien’s head.

How hot was it that Bastien was picturing her naked?

I was naked in his thoughts? she asked, unsure if Étienne was still tuning in.

A lot.

And we were doing . . . ?

Things that would make you blush even more than you are now.

I don’t suppose you could show me, could you?

It doesn’t work that way.

Damn.

His lips twitched.

Bastien tugged her hand. “I can’t hear what he’s saying to you. Should I kick his ass?”

“As if you could,” Étienne murmured.

“No.” Melanie said, “It’s fine.”

All three immortals suddenly looked at the ceiling.

“What is it?”

“Reordon,” Bastien grunted.

“And he’s pissed,” Richart said needlessly.

If Bastien had once more plowed through Chris’s guards, she was surprised it had taken Chris this long to join them.

She looked to the twins. “He’ll chain Bastien up.”

Étienne frowned. Easing farther into the room, he closed the door behind him. “For being shot by the guards?”

Surprised, Melanie stood and stared up at Bastien. “You didn’t hurt any of them?”

He shrugged and watched her carefully. “I was in a hurry. Perhaps next time.”

She smiled and shook her head.

Richart turned to his brother. “It’s true. Chris will order the guards to restrain him and chain him up.”

“But he didn’t hurt anyone.”

“He didn’t hurt anyone the night he was drugged either. Not here, anyway. He was unconscious when I brought him in, but Chris wanted to restrain him in the holding room.”

Étienne’s brow creased as he swore and glared at Bastien. “I can’t believe you’ve put me in a position where I’ll actually have to defend your sorry ass.”

Bastien’s lips compressed in a tight smile. “You don’t hear me asking for your help, do you?”

Melanie tightened her fingers around his in warning. “I’ll ask for it.” When Bastien started to protest, she held up her free hand to shut him up. “Can you two buy us some time?”

At most, she thought one or the other of them might keep the guards at bay long enough to convince Mr. Reordon that Bastien had indeed left his men unharmed. Maybe offer a token protest when Bastien was escorted to the holding room or tranqed or shot. So she was shocked when Richart strode toward them. “I’ll teleport him out of here.”

She held on to Bastien’s hand. “Where he goes, I go.”

“That’s what we thought,” the brothers said simultaneously.

Richart motioned to their entwined hands. “It’s easier for me to take you one at a time. I’ll take Bastien first, then immediately return for you, Dr. Lipton.”

“Melanie.”

“As you wish, Melanie.”

“Where are we?” Bastien asked when he and Richart appeared inside a house.

“My home. I’ll return in a moment.”

Bastien clutched his arm. “You should leave her there.”

“I should,” Richart agreed. “But I gave her my word.”

As soon as Bastien released him, the other immortal vanished.

When he reappeared, Melanie was with him.

She grinned up at Bastien. “That is so awesome.”

Try though he might, he couldn’t prevent himself from returning her smile. Not because he thought it was cool, too. (It was the only perk to having to hunt with Richart nightly.) But because he found her smile so enchanting and irresistible. So utterly free of guile.

Richart let out a piercing whistle.

Bastien heard a thud sound in some distant room.

“Damn it!” a male they couldn’t see shouted. “I told you not to do that! You scared the crap out of me!” It must be Sheldon.

Bastien met Richart’s gaze. “Have you told him he doesn’t have to shout for you to hear him?”

“Several times.” He seemed amused rather than annoyed by his new Second’s slow learning curve.

Melanie aimed her smile up at Richart. “I’m dying to know how you do that.”

“It’s easy. I just purse my lips and blow.”

Laughing, she shoved him. “Not the whistling. The teleporting.”

Richart, no more immune to her charm and goodness than Bastien was, grinned down at her. “I wouldn’t mind knowing that myself.”

“Really? Could I by any chance talk you into letting me run a few tests? I’d love to do an MRI while you teleport and see what lights up.”

Richart’s smile faltered beneath a look of supreme unease. Immortals tended to be nearly as uncomfortable around doctors—on the doctors’ territory at least—as Ami was. And Ami still broke out in a cold sweat if she had to go anywhere near the network.

Melanie touched Richart’s forearm, resurrecting Bastien’s jealousy. “Just think about it.”

His stance relaxing, the Frenchman nodded. “I will.” He motioned to the living room around them—modern, with more clutter than Bastien was accustomed to seeing since most immortals were neat freaks. David’s place, despite the heavy traffic it saw, was usually immaculately clean and tidy. “Please make yourself at home. The kitchen is through there. Bastien, there is blood in the modified meat compartment in the refrigerator. There’s a bathroom just down the hall. There are four guest rooms on this floor and four more in the basement. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask Sheldon.”

How long did he think they would be here?