Alex backed away, turning to run.

From behind Richard leaped at her, latching onto her back with his curved claws and dragging her to the floor. His hot breath burned the back of her neck as he held her head down with one paw and began ripping at the back of her lab coat with the other.

"Richard." Alex could feel his erect cock jabbing at the seat of her trousers. Something sticking out from the side of his shaft penetrated her clothing like sharp thorns, and she remembered an article she had read about male cats having barbed organs.

She'd tear out her own throat before she let him put that inside her.

Alex screamed, throwing her head back and smashing it into Richard's teeth. He roared, digging his claws deep into her shoulder and ripping at her flesh. She tried to throw him off, but he had her pinned too well.

"My lord," a cool voice said. "Forgive me."

Alex felt Richard stiffen and fall over, and scrambled out from under his weight. A pressure dart planted in the center of his back wiggled back and forth.

"Doctor." Éliane put aside the tranquilizer gun and helped Alex to her feet. "You are badly injured."

"No shit. I think I owe you a huge apology." She looked over the tresora's shoulder to see Korvel and Stefan rush in. "I think someone gave me pure feline blood instead of human. It made him do this."

"Who?" Éliane demanded.

"Lady Elizabeth," Éliane said. "She wishes him dead."

"You have no proof," the captain said.

"She told me that she'd kill my brother if I found a cure for Richard," Alex said, groaning as she tried to feel how badly the high lord had ripped up her back. "Does that work for you?"

"Why did you not tell me?" Korvel demanded.

"Like you'd have believed me." She was dripping blood all over Richard, and saw his lacerated lips heal under the crimson splashes. "Wait a minute." She dropped down and wiped her blood from his face with her sleeve. All the hair around his mouth came with it, and the split in his upper lip disappeared. "Pick up that microscope and see if it's still working." Through the shrinking tunnel of her vision, she groped for a box of slides Richard had knocked to the floor.

"You are hurt." Korvel reached for her.

"I'll heal. Take him out of here… and get me some human blood…" She saw Éliane's hands appear in front of her, and sighed as she fainted into them.

Nick led Gabriel past the curious eyes of the travelers in the crowded, six-berth couchette compartments and through the back of the car. "I think it's up here."

Few tourists bought tickets for the Occitan's expensive first class, preferring the cheaper reclining seats in second class. The younger travelers gravitated toward the partying, college-dorm atmosphere of the shared couchettes. But Nick didn't mind paying double the fare plus the extra supplement charge so that they could have one of the lower, two-berth rooms. Gabriel needed privacy as much as she did, and that always came with a price tag.

She found their compartment nestled in the back of the very first car, which, aside from two well-dressed businessmen, seemed deserted. "Here we go." She steered Gabriel in through the narrow door.

He stood still. "I confess, I have never slept on a train."

"You need to get around more." She took his hands and used them to show him the room by touch. "There's a sofa here, and two bunk beds up top, near the ceiling. The bedding isn't the greatest, and you'll probably have to curl up, but they're pretty comfy. Soap, towels, washbasin. The bathroom is at the other end of the car."

"Is there a place you can dine?" he asked. "You've not had anything to eat."

"I grabbed something while you were sleeping back at the inn," she told him. "I can get something from the attendant when he comes around later." She checked the compartment locks before stowing their bags in the tiny corner cabinet. "This door has a security latch on it that can't be opened from the outside, even by the train attendants. We'll keep that locked." She went to the window and looked out at the station platform. She hadn't seen anyone suspicious, but she wouldn't relax until she got Gabriel out of France. "I don't think anyone was on the lookout for us."

He came up behind her, reached out, and with uncanny precision pulled down the window shade. "I think we are safe here. All we have to do is occupy ourselves until the train reaches Calais."

Nick leaned back against him, letting the heat of his body melt the tension out of her muscles. "What have you got in mind?"

He guided her over to the small sofa and pulled her down next to him. "We should talk."

"About what?" She tugged down the zipper on the front of his jacket and slipped her hand inside.

He promptly took it out and raised it to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "You."

"Not much to tell." Nick shifted closer.

"I want to know more about you," Gabriel said as he put an arm around her. "You said that you've been alone for ten years. You lost your family when you were only sixteen?"

"Yeah." Nick needed to change the subject. "I don't like talking about that, okay?"

He nodded. "Then tell me about the Golden Madonna. I have some knowledge of art; perhaps I know of it."

Nick started to get up, but he held her in place. "Gabriel, you couldn't possibly… It's all tied up with bad stuff that happened a long time ago. I just need to find it. That's all."

"But what is it, Nicola? A painting? A triptych?"

"No." She sighed. "The Madonna was this statue that my stepdad found buried under our house. The original owners built it on top of a bunch of old ruins. After this bad rain, Malcolm—my stepdad—found the edge of a wall in the garden. It ran under the house, so he started digging in the cellar to see how far it went. I think my mom was worried about the stability of the foundation or something."

"What did he find?"

"Well, a lot of old Norman stuff from when they came over and kicked Saxon butt. They built an outpost on top of a Saxon keep they burned down. The Saxons made that from parts of this really old Roman fortress. It was all in layers and stuff. Malcolm took pictures of everything he found and then covered it back up."

Gabriel frowned, "Why?"

"He didn't like messing with things. He was afraid of archeologists finding out about the site, too. He thought they were glorified looters." How silly that seemed now, considering what had happened. "The only thing Mal ever brought up from the cellar was the Madonna." She blinked back hot tears. "I don't know why, but it fascinated him. He tried to find out where it came from and who made it."

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "What did it look like, this Madonna?"

"I only saw it once; Malcolm kept it locked up." She described the statue, and added, "It didn't do any good."

"Someone stole this statue from your home?"

"Yes, and I want it back. I've been searching for it ever since." She bolted off the sofa. "I think I am hungry. I'll go get something to eat and be back in a few minutes."

Gabriel came after her, putting his hand over hers and making her close the door. "Did the thief kill your parents, Nicola?"

"I told you—"

He whirled her around. "Does the murderer have the Madonna?"

"Yes. So the Madonna could be returned to her shrine. Only I don't know where her shrine is." Was that her voice, so thin and cold? "So I'm looking through all of them. Any chapel, church, or holy place I can get into, I search. I'll find her someday." She shoved at him. "Satisfied? Or do you want to hear how they were tortured before they were killed?"

"Your parents were tortured?"

"My stepdad wouldn't give up the Madonna. Not until he…" She refused to sob. "Hey, we could compare notes, see if it was worse than what the holy freaks did to you."

"That is why you've been releasing the Kyn." The compartment filled with the scent of evergreen as Gabriel moved toward her. "What is done to us is the same thing that happened to your parents."

Revulsion filled her. "No. It's not the same. They weren't… You don't understand." She covered her face with her hands. "Please, Gabriel, I can't talk about them anymore. Please stop asking me questions."

"Forgive me." He bent down and kissed the tears from her face. "I only want to understand better what has happened to you." His breath warmed her cold lips. "You can trust me, Nicola. I swear it."

If only he knew. "I trust you as much as I can, Gabriel." Nick burrowed against him, needing his warmth as much as she needed air to breathe. "Come to bed with me."

Gabriel held her at arm's length. "But I have upset you, and made you weep."

She brought his hand to her heart. "Start kissing here, where it hurts."

A short time later Nick was breathless, half-undressed, and wedged between Gabriel and the sofa. She watched him expertly tug her jeans and panties down the length of her legs. "There are two perfectly good beds in here, you know."

He tossed her clothes out of his way. "Both of us will not fit on one berth. So unless you wish to gaze at me from afar—"

"Floor's good." Nick took the cushions from the sofa and pushed them together into a makeshift mattress. "I kind of miss the spiders, though."

He sat up, went still for a minute, and then grinned. "There are several dozen living in this car. Shall I summon them?"

"Don't you dare." Laughing, she tackled him. "I love you, but the bug thing is really… not so… great." Had she just blurted that out? She had. No wonder he looked as if he'd turned to stone, and acted as if she'd sucker punched him. "It's the dreams. You know how women are. We get emotional about stuff like that."