The sun was shining bright and cheerful when Jo woke up. It made her groan and cover her eyes with the hope of easing the ache in her head. Damn, she had the mother of all hangovers. Too bad she hadn't had the good time to earn it. She hadn't had that much to drink last night, which meant the headache was probably thanks to the head banging she'd taken... or possibly the result of getting her memory back, she supposed, recalling the agony that had shot through her skull as the memories had come rushing into her mind.

Sighing, Jo removed her hand and forced her eyes open, grimacing and breathing deeply until the first stab of pain eased.

She'd say one thing for her sister, Jo thought as she shifted to a sitting position and then got out of bed. Sam certainly threw memorable parties. Not necessarily memorable in a good way though. Jo suspected this headache was going to stay with her for the rest of the day. Here was hoping her memories stayed with her as well.

Jo grimaced at the thought and then moved to the bathroom. She needed to shower, dress, and get out of this house. She didn't trust that Lucian guy not to try to "wipe" her memories. The idea of anyone messing with her head was rather alarming. She counted on her brain as everyone did, and the idea of pieces of it somehow being "veiled," as Nicholas had put it, was just scary to consider.

Jo turned on the water and took a quick shower, grimacing with pain the whole while. She'd hoped a shower would ease her headache, but instead the sound of the rushing water seemed to make it worse. She was glad to finish and step out, but less glad when she had to dry herself with a bath towel rather than the much larger beach towel she liked to use at home.

The thought of home made her sigh. Jo wished she was in her little apartment right now. She'd close the blinds, put a cold cloth on her head, and sleep until her head felt better. Eager to be able to do that, Jo left the bathroom as quickly as she'd entered. She dressed in record time, stuffed the overlarge T-shirt she'd slept in and the clothes she'd worn the night before into her backpack, and then slung it over her shoulder and immediately headed out of the room.

The hall was empty, and she hurried to the stairs. Jo jogged down them, pausing as the sound of voices reached her from the kitchen. She hesitated, eyes moving longingly to the door, but knew there was nothing for it. Alex had driven her here and she needed Alex to take her home.

Muttering under her breath, she set the backpack on the floor by the front door and then headed up the hall. The closer she got to the kitchen, the clearer the voices became.

"I still don't understand why we can't just explain everything to them," Sam was saying. "Others know about you. Cripes, Bricker says there's a whole town two hours south of here that knows about you guys."

"Knows what about you guys?" Jo asked as she stepped into the room.

Dead silence was her response as Sam and Mortimer turned to peer at her from where they sat at the kitchen table. Sam looked alarmed, she noticed, but Mortimer just looked irritated.

"Here you are."

Jo turned to find Bricker entering the kitchen behind her. His gaze sought out Mortimer as he said, "Sorry, I only stepped away to go to the bathroom and she was gone when I got back to her room."

"I have a guard now?" Jo asked with disbelief. She scowled at Bricker and asked, "And how did you know I'd left my room? Did you go in there?"

"No. I just cracked the door when I couldn't hear you snoring anymore."

"I don't snore," Jo snapped.

Bricker grinned and shrugged. "Okay, I cracked the door when I couldn't hear your very loud snorting, snuffling breathing as you slept."

"Ha ha," Jo muttered.

"Do you want a coffee?" Sam asked, getting up to retrieve a cup for her from the cupboard.

"Yes, please, but I'll get it," Jo muttered, moving to meet her at the coffeepot. She murmured a "Thanks" as she took the cup from Sam. "Where's Alex? Not up yet?"

"Oh yes. She was up and out of here early," Sam said, returning to the table.

"What?" Jo whirled to gape at her with horror. "She was supposed to drive me home."

"I know, but I told her I would," Sam said soothingly.

Jo frowned and leaned against the counter, her eyes moving warily from Bricker to Mortimer as she lifted the cup to take a sip. She stiffened when Bricker suddenly moved toward her, but he merely opened the cupboard door beside her and retrieved a small bottle that rattled as he plucked it from the shelf.

"What's that?" Jo asked when he offered it to her.

"Pills Sam had me pick up for her the last time she had a headache," Bricker said, opening his palm for her to read the label.

Jo accepted the pills slowly, her narrowed eyes searching his face. "How did you know-?"

"You have that same squinty-eyed look Sam gets when she has a headache," he said with amusement.

"God, you're a charmer this morning, aren't you?" Jo said dryly, making an effort to remove the "squinty-eyed look" from her face. "I don't remember you being this insulting when we first met."

Bricker grinned. "Yeah, but you're practically family now. At least you're Sam's family, and she's like family now."

"Great," Jo muttered, setting down her coffee to open the pills. When she struggled with the chore, Bricker plucked the bottle away and opened it for her, forcing her to mutter another "Thanks" as he shook out a couple of pills and handed them over. She picked up her coffee and swigged down some with the pills as Bricker resealed the bottle and put it away. She then glanced to the table to see Sam and Mortimer still watching her. Sam was biting her lip as if there was something she wanted to say, but Mortimer was looking a bit wary.

"Do you want some breakfast?" Sam asked finally.

Jo shook her head, and then winced at the pain the action sent shooting through her skull. She must have bruised her brain or something last night when she hit the wall, Jo thought with disgust, and wondered if you could bruise your brain. It certainly felt tender this morning.

"No... thanks," she said. "I'd really rather just head home."

"I'll get my keys," Sam said, getting up at once.

"Why bother?" Jo asked. "Why not just let the guys that are supposed to watch me take me home. They can watch me up close then."

A moment of silence passed as Sam glanced to Mortimer. He stared at Jo with narrowed eyes for a minute, but then shrugged and said to Sam, "It will save you a trip, and that way I'll not have to worry about you." Before Sam could comment, he glanced to Bricker and said, "Anders is in the garage fee-having a drink."

"I'll get him and one of the SUVs and pick you up out front," Bricker told Jo, and moved toward the door leading into the backyard.

"I'll get my bag," Jo said, and set down her cup with relief. She'd be out of there soon... and with her memory still intact as far as she could tell.

"Jo?" Sam said, standing to follow as she headed out of the kitchen.

Jo slowed, but didn't stop as she started up the hall toward the backpack she'd left by the front door. "Yeah?"

Sam scooted to catch up with her, taking her hand as she reached the front entry and drawing her to a halt.

Jo turned, her gaze sliding up the hall to see with relief that Mortimer hadn't followed. Shifting her gaze back to her sister, she raised her eyebrow.

Sam hesitated and then asked, "Are we all right?"

Jo raised her other eyebrow now. "Why wouldn't we be?"

Sam wrinkled her nose and sighed. "I know this is probably all weird and incomprehensible to you, and-to be frank-I'm amazed you aren't asking a ton of questions about what happened last night, and-"

"Would they be answered?" Jo interrupted quietly, and when Sam peered at her blankly, explained, "If I asked questions about last night, would they be answered?"

Sam bit her lip, but then dropped the uncertainty that was so odd coming from her and admitted bluntly, "No."

"That's what I thought," she said dryly. Besides, Jo suspected asking questions might lead to losing the memories she'd managed to regain. She wasn't sure why she thought that was so, but had decided to go with her instincts, keep her questions to herself, and get out of there.

"You always were practical," Sam said with a wry smile curving her lips.

Jo forced a smile in response and then said solemnly. "I am going to ask you one question though."

Wariness immediately crept over Sam's face. "What's that?"

"Are you happy?" Jo asked, and then raised her hand to stop her when Sam opened her mouth to answer at once. "Think about it. I mean it. Are you happy? It's all happened so fast. You've quit your position at the firm, moved in here with Mortimer, and started a whole new-and from what I can tell-very strange life. Are you sure it's what you want? Are you sure you won't regret any of this later? Is there any reason at all that I should be worried about you?"

Sam appeared to be seriously doing as Jo had requested and thinking about it. Then she let go of the breath she'd apparently been holding.

"I am very happy," Sam assured her solemnly. "It has all been very fast, but I am positive I won't regret any of the choices I've made. I love Mortimer and he really does love me, Jo. I know you don't understand a lot of what's happening, but-" Her words died abruptly as Jo hugged her. Her eyes were wide and questioning when Jo stepped back.

"That's all I wanted to hear," Jo assured her quietly. "It's enough. I won't ask questions you can't answer... for now," she added quietly.

Sam smiled crookedly and agreed, "For now."

"That's settled then," Jo said with feigned good cheer as she turned away to collect her backpack. She peered out the window at the driveway. Spotting the SUV pulling up, Jo gave Sam a smile as she opened the door. "Now I'm going home to bed. My head is killing me."

"Make Bricker stop and pick up some breakfast for you on the way home," Sam said firmly, following her out the door.

"I heard that," Bricker announced, slipping out of the front passenger seat to open the back door for Jo. He took her backpack, saying, "Get her breakfast. Will do."

"She'll be a good mother, don't you think?" Jo said dryly as she slid into the backseat.

"That she will." Bricker's voice was solemn as he set the backpack on the floor by her feet.

As he closed the door, Jo glanced to Sam, a frown claiming her lips as she saw the stricken look on her sister's face. Apparently Smart Sam hadn't connected being in love and having regular sex with possible future babies. Jo sincerely hoped Smart Sam hadn't forgotten about birth control. If she had... well, a baby would be an interesting development, she supposed. She didn't mind the idea of becoming an aunt.

"And we're off."

Jo turned her gaze forward to see that Bricker had hopped back in the front seat and was pulling the door closed. The moment it slammed shut, the man behind the wheel, a dark-skinned, grim-faced fellow, set the vehicle in motion.

Jo shifted forward on the backseat and peered at the driver more closely. She hadn't met him at the party, but she might as well have. Like all the others, he was a perfect version of himself, with glossy, short black hair, perfect pores, and shiny white teeth.

"You must be Anders," Jo commented, recalling Mortimer mentioning the fellow.

"Seat belt," was his growled response.

Jo raised one eyebrow and glanced to Bricker.

"Anders is a man of few words," he said almost apologetically.

"So I see," she commented dryly.

"Seat belt on or vehicle stops," Anders said firmly.

Jo snorted. "Very few words if he can't even bother with little words like the, goes, or please."

"The seat belt goes on, please, or the vehicle stops," Bricker said, using those little words Anders hadn't.

Jo chuckled at his imitation of the other man's deep growl, but sat back to do up her seat belt. She didn't miss the little sigh Anders released at Bricker's teasing, though, and it made her grin. She peered from Bricker's good-natured face to the back of Anders's head and said, "So how come you weren't at the party last night?"

Anders was silent for a minute and then glanced to Bricker. "Is she speaking to me?"

A snort of amusement slid from Bricker, but he nodded. "Yes, Anders, I'd guess she is."

He turned back to the road, and Jo was just deciding he wasn't going to answer her question when he said, "I was working."

"Really?" she asked with interest, leaning as far forward as her seat belt would allow. "Working on a Saturday night? What do you do?"

There was a pause and then he said simply, "Hunt."

Jo raised her eyebrows and drawled dubiously, "Right."

Silence fell in the vehicle as they reached the gates at the end of the drive. Two men were stationed at the guardhouse today, she noted. One rushed to open the inner gate for them while the second stood at the booth and watched them pass. She wondered briefly if the added security was because of Bad-Breath Boy's visit last night, and then they were out and heading up the road.

"So... Anders," Jo murmured, sitting back in the seat. "What's that trace of accent you have?"

His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. They were narrowed at the moment and a beautiful black with gold flecks, she noted, and then his eyes shifted back to the road. "I don't have an accent. You do."

"Beg pardon," she said dryly. "This is Canada and I have a Canadian accent, which means I have no accent here. But you do, just a trace, but it sounds..." Jo paused, considering the few words he'd said so far and then guessed, "Russian?"

His eyes met hers in the mirror again. This time there was a flicker that might have been something like appreciation in his eyes as he nodded.

"So is Anders your first name or last?"

"Last."

Jo pursed her lips. "Anders doesn't sound very Russian."

"It was originally Andronnikov," he admitted. "I got tired of North Americans mangling the name."

"Hmm," Jo said. "Russian. We should get along great then."

"Why?" he asked, and she couldn't help but notice that his tone was dubious as he met her gaze in the mirror again. There was also true confusion on his face. She suspected he doubted they would get along at all.

Jo met his gaze, smiled sweetly, and said, "Well, it just figures, doesn't it? I'm a bartender, you're a Black Russian. It's a perfect match."

Bricker burst out laughing, but Anders, she noticed, looked less than impressed, and Jo wondered if that crack would be considered racist. She hadn't thought so. Actually, she hadn't thought at all before saying it. Damn, she really needed to learn to think before she spoke.

"It wasn't racist," Anders said dryly. "It was a very bad play on the name of an alcoholic beverage, but not racist."

Jo peered at him sharply. "How did you know I was worrying about that?"

He hesitated, but then shifted his eyes back to the road and said, "You have that guilty look white people get when they're worried they've misspoken." Anders glanced back to the mirror and raised an eye brow as he asked, "Or is it racist to call you white? Perhaps I should say Caucasian."

Jo snorted and then found herself babbling, "Hell if I know. You can call me white if you want. Although I don't really get the whole white business myself, I mean we aren't really white. Well, I suppose we can be when upset and we pale, but mostly we're kind of tan in the summer and pink like pigs in the winter."

"Shall I call you pig then?" he asked sweetly.

Jo's eyes sharpened on his face in the rearview mirror, but she caught the twitching of his lips and asked, "Was that an attempt at a joke?"

"It was better than yours," he said, and actually cracked a smile.

"Hmm," Jo muttered.

"Right," Bricker commented with amusement, "So now that you two have broken the ice and moved straight to the slinging of insults, where are we going for breakfast?"

"Do not look at me," Anders said dryly. "I do not eat... breakfast," he added when Bricker glanced at him sharply.

"You should," Jo said with feigned solemnity. "It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

"Is it?" Anders asked. "And what do you usually have for breakfast?"

"Dried-up day-old pizza or anything else I can scrounge up," she admitted wryly.

"Why am I not surprised?" Anders said in dry tones.

Jo frowned at his knowing expression. "It's my pores, isn't it? They give away my bad student-type habits."

His eyes sharpened on hers in the mirror, bewilderment in their beautiful depths. "Your pores?"

"Yeah. I have big pores that give away my vices while you guys all have baby's ass pores."

"Baby's ass pores?" Bricker asked incredulously.

"Smooth and poreless like on a baby's butt," she explained dryly.

"Jesus," Anders muttered, his hand rising to rub his own cheek and his eyes examining his skin in the rearview mirror.

"Eyes on the road, big guy," Jo ordered. "You can look at your pretty self later."

Anders stared at her in the mirror briefly and then glanced to Bricker and muttered, "It's a shame I can read her. She's an interesting female."

"I know. I've been bemoaning it all summer," Bricker said on a sigh, and then added, "She's hot too."

Jo wasn't sure what the hell they were talking about with the reading business, but was relatively certain she'd just been given a compliment. It cheered her up and made her smile. Jo smiled a little wider when she realized that her headache was easing. Something to eat and some juice and coffee might help eradicate it completely, she thought. "There's a little place not far from my apartment that serves all-day breakfast."

"Address?" Anders asked, apparently reverting to his man-of-few-words persona.

Jo gave it to him and then leaned her head back and closed her eyes, hoping that relaxing a little on the drive would help ease the headache some more.

When Ernie's van pulled into the gas station, Nicholas scanned the street, spotted an open parking spot, and managed to maneuver into the tight space. He then glanced toward the gas station. Ernie obviously hadn't stopped there in search of gas. He'd parked on the edge of the lot and was now staring at the restaurant parking lot across the street.

While it was Ernie he had set himself the task of watching, Nicholas couldn't resist looking toward the restaurant himself. He was rewarded with a perfect view of Jo, Bricker, and Anders getting out of the SUV they had driven there in and heading into the restaurant. They disappeared through the front door, only to reappear a moment later in the large front window as they claimed an empty booth there.

When Nicholas then glanced back to Ernie, it was to find that the other rogue had shut off his van and looked like he was settling in for a wait. It seemed he could no longer deny the obvious; while he was following Ernie, Ernie for some unknown reason had set himself the task of following Jo, Bricker, and Anders. Mouth tightening, Nicholas shut off his own engine and sat back to wait as well, but it wasn't long before he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat and wishing he had the little foam cushion he liked to place at his back. Unfortunately, that was still in his old van, which he suspected was now in enforcer hands. At least the damned thing had been gone by the time Jo had broken him out of his cell, and he'd ridden out on the undercarriage of the SUV. He'd dropped to the pavement as it had raced past the spot where he'd left the van, taking a damned good road burn in the process, only to find his van missing.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Mortimer had sent men out to find his vehicle after he'd been captured. He had no idea where they'd taken it to. They hadn't brought it back to the enforcer garage before he'd left, so he supposed they'd taken it somewhere to search it. Perhaps Argeneau Enterprises where Bastien Argeneau's science geeks could go over it with a fine-tooth comb.

It had been a great disappointment to Nicholas to find his vehicle gone. Aside from the fact that it held all of his meager belongings, it had meant a rather long walk for him. Had a car with some slightly drunken teenagers returning from a party not come by, he would have been forced to run all the way back to the city. Fortunately, he'd barely started out for town when they'd roared up the road in his direction. Nicholas had immediately taken control of the driver and brought the vehicle to a halt, then had gotten in to hitch a ride into town.

Nicholas holed up in a motel until morning and then headed out to purchase some supplies: clothes from a secondhand store, tools, and weapons, as well as this new van. Well, new to him, he supposed. It was used, but then he'd had to pay cash and didn't exactly have access to his previous wealth. Used or not, it had four wheels and ran. It would do for a while, he thought, watching as Jo laughed at something Bricker had said.

The sight was rather disturbing to him. Nicholas didn't like that Bricker was making her laugh, but it took him a moment to recognize what he was experiencing as jealousy. He wanted to be the one sitting there with her, making her laugh... and it was all his own fault that he couldn't.

Sighing, Nicholas shifted unhappily in the driver's seat. He couldn't claim Jo as his life mate. There was no way he would force her to live a life on the run, but fate wasn't helping him to stay away from her. After buying the van, his first instinct had been to go find where Jo lived and wait there for her, but he'd subdued that less-than-sensible idea and instead had headed after Ernie, following the tracker he'd placed under the man's van several days ago.

Nicholas had been rather shocked when trying to do the right thing, rather than what he'd wanted, had led him straight back to the enforcer house. Or at least to the neighboring house. He'd spotted Ernie's vehicle parked in the trees and glimpsed someone in the driver's seat.

Secure in the knowledge that his own windows were tinted and that Ernie wouldn't be able to tell it was he in the van, Nicholas had pulled into the driveway of a house on the opposite side of the road. It had been nearly noon when he'd shut off the engine to wait and see what unfolded.

He hadn't had long to wait before the SUV Ernie was presently following had driven by him. Nicholas had spotted Jo in the backseat as the vehicle passed, and his heart had lurched just to see her. It had lurched again when Ernie's vehicle had suddenly pulled out to follow the SUV. Nicholas had immediately started the engine and followed as well, worrying all the way into town. The only thing he could think was that Ernie had decided that going after Dani and Stephanie was too risky and so was making do with Jo instead. Perhaps he hoped to punish Nicholas for interfering last night by taking her. Ernie had probably heard him murmur that he couldn't read her when he'd tried and failed last night.

It was a worrying thought and something Nicholas didn't intend to allow to happen. He sat thinking of ways to protect Jo as he watched the trio in the restaurant talk to the waitress, receive their orders, eat, and then get the check. When Bricker threw some money on the table and the trio stood to exit the restaurant, Nicholas sat up and started the van engine, preparing to follow. His priority had changed. If Ernie had set his sights on Jo, then Nicholas wasn't letting her out of his sight for a minute.