"Where's Leigh?"

Lucian paused on the top step. He and Mortimer had finished clearing out the nest and trailing gasoline through the basement and up the stairs to the kitchen, the first time either man had been there since rushing downstairs. Bricker had been the one to run up to retrieve the cans of gasoline they'd left in the room. He'd brought the smaller one down to them, then taken the other up to the second floor to drop a trail of the flammable liquid there and down to the main floor.

"I left her seated at the table," Lucian said. "Maybe Bricker already took her out to the van."

"Maybe," Mortimer agreed wearily.

Lucian turned back to continue splashing the gasoline on the tile floor, but he, too, was tired. It had been a lot of work.

There had been more vampires in the nest than expected. Morgan had managed to turn upward of thirty-odd followers... and they hadn't all laid around accommodatingly for Lucian and his men to put out of their misery. It had taken quite a while to take care of them all.

It was only after they'd gone through the rooms in the basement that they realized Morgan had gotten away in those first moments of chaos after they charged downstairs. So had the man he'd called Donald. The pair had slid out through a pair of cellar doors that opened into the backyard. The daughter of the previous owner had apparently forgotten this detail.

Moods grim at what they considered a failure, they'd started to lay the gasoline down. Lucian now trailed it into the hallway, following Mortimer toward the front door. They met up with Bricker coming out of the living room, splashing his own can around.

"Did you take Leigh to the van?" Mortimer asked.

Bricker's eyebrows flew up. "No. I thought Lucian did before following us downstairs."

"No." Mortimer shook his head. "He left her at the table in the kitchen."

Lucian shrugged and returned to splashing the gasoline along the hall toward the front door. "Morgan must have taken her. We catch up to him, we'll find her."

Neither man looked pleased, but moved quickly toward the door to stay out of his way. Bricker emptied the last of his can as he went, then tossed it aside and stepped out of the house. Mortimer followed and Lucian continued with his own gasoline until it ran out two feet short of the door.

Tossing his can to the side, Lucian pulled a Zippo from his pocket. He flicked it open, struck the wheel with his thumb to light it, then tossed it over his shoulder as he stepped onto the porch. He pulled the door closed just as the fire whooshed to life behind him.

It wasn't until he'd started down the steps that Lucian saw the woman. She was on her knees on the gravel where Morgan's van had been parked. Her arms were wrapped tight around her waist as she swayed weakly where she knelt. Her pain was obvious, as was the fact that a combination of determination and the desire to survive were all that had helped her make her way out of the house.

Mortimer and Bricker were on their haunches, one in front of her, one beside her, both of them peering at her worriedly.

"She's turning," Mortimer announced as Lucian paused beside them.

Of course she was, he thought wearily. He had hoped she hadn't yet been given blood. Then they could have erased her memory and sent her on her way. However, that wasn't possible anymore. She was now an immortal and would have to be taken care of and trained.

The only good news was that unlike those in the house, Morgan hadn't had her long enough to turn her into a heartless, killing machine.

"We'll have to take her back to the hotel and take care of her," Mortimer announced, the words bringing a grimace to Lucian's face.

"We don't have time to nurse a baby vamp," he said dryly. "We have to catch up to Morgan before he starts another nest."

"Well, we can't just leave her here," Mortimer pointed out. "Bricker and I will take care of her."

"What about Morgan?" Lucian asked.

The two men exchanged a glance, then Bricker said, "The plan was to go back to the hotel, get some sleep, and then start out fresh tonight, right?"

"Right," Lucian allowed, his gaze flickering to the sky and the bright white orb of the sun. It was nearly mid-morning, and the sunlight was getting stronger by the minute. He bent to unstrap the quiver from his leg as Bricker made his case.

"Well, the turn doesn't usually take more than twenty-four hours. Eight hours while we sleep, then one of us can stay and watch over her while the other two go after Morgan and the Donald guy. There are only the two of them; all three of us aren't really needed."

"And who's going to stay awake today to give her blood?" Lucian asked as he straightened with the empty quiver in hand.

"Bricker and I will take turns."

Lucian wasn't pleased, but he supposed there weren't a lot of choices. Besides, he was growing uncomfortable under the direct sunlight and wanted an end to the discussion.

"Fine, but she's your responsibility," he said abruptly, and headed for the vehicles they'd parked on a small, unused dirt lane beyond the trees surrounding the house.

Lucian released a small breath of relief as he slid into the safety of the rental car. There was still sunlight coming through the windshield, but it was better than being out in full light. He placed the crossbow and quiver back into the large duffel bag on the passenger seat, then straightened and glanced out the window again. Bricker was carrying the brunette toward the van a car's length up the lane, while Mortimer rushed ahead holding both weapons.

Lucian shook his head as he watched Mortimer open the van's back doors and Bricker jump inside with the woman. The men, he knew, hadn't thought it through. The woman was going to be a problem. She was moaning and writhing in obvious pain as the turn began, her white blouse bearing a large rust-colored stain that could be mistaken for nothing other than blood. And it was after 10:00 A.M., so the hotel lobby would be busy. Yet, somehow, they had to get her into the hotel.

When Mortimer closed the van doors and hurried around to get behind the wheel, Lucian started the rental car and backed out of the lane. He retrieved the cell phone from his shirt pocket as he started slowly up the road. He punched in the first number on his speed dial and glanced in the rearview mirror to watch the van back onto the road behind him as he waited to be connected.

"Hello?"

Lucian smiled faintly at the sleepy snarl, knowing he'd woken up his nephew. "Good morning, Bastien."

There was a pause, then a suspicious, "Uncle Lucian?"

"That's right. I didn't wake you, did I?"

Bastien grunted in reply. "How did it go? Did you get Morgan?"

"No. He got away with another man. Someone named Donald."

"I'm going to need more information than that if you want me to trace this Donald guy -- " Bastien began.

"That's not why I'm calling," Lucian interrupted. "How long would it take for one of the company planes to get here?"

"A company plane?" Bastien echoed.

"Yes."

"Hmm. We only have the one available at the moment. The others are all booked today," he said thoughtfully. "I'd have to call the pilot and co-pilot. They'll have to get up and around and get to the airport, gas up, file a flight plan, fly down to Kansas. That's a what? Two hour flight? Two and a half hours?"

"Closer to two and a half hours," Lucian guessed. He hadn't paid close attention when he'd flown down.

"Two and a half," Bastien murmured. "I'm guessing it would be at least four to five hours, probably more, before the plane could get there. No, definitely more," he added suddenly and explained, "The only pilot we have available at the moment lives an hour from the airport."

"So, six hours, maybe more?" Lucian asked with a frown.

"I did offer to keep one there at your disposal until you were done, but you said -- "

"Yes, yes," Lucian interrupted impatiently. He hated hearing I told you so. "Just send the plane down. Have them call me at the hotel before they leave and I'll head to the airport to wait."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No." Lucian clicked the button to disengage before realizing he hadn't said good-bye, or even thanks. Living on his own had made him a rude bastard. Fortunately, his family members -- including Bastien -- were used to it.

Returning the phone to his pocket, he took the turn that would take them back to the hotel. He'd hoped to head right to the airport with the girl to wait for the plane, but six hours was a long wait when you were already tired. It looked like they were going to have to take Leigh to the hotel after all.

"How are we going to get her to our room?" Mortimer asked as he slid out of the van and met Lucian getting out of his car. Apparently, he had considered the problem during the drive.

Lucian's gaze moved around the hotel parking garage. They might be able to get her to the elevator without anyone seeing her, but the elevator would certainly stop in the lobby, and possibly at other floors. He already knew from their short stay that the elevators were always busy, jam-packed in fact. Chances were they would encounter anywhere from twenty to sixty people between the elevator and the hall to their room. He didn't like the idea of having to erase the memories of so many people.

Lucian's ruminations were interrupted by the purr of a car pulling into a parking spot. Both men glanced over as a woman got out, walked around to the trunk, opened it, and struggled to pull out a huge black suitcase.

Before he'd even thought about it, Lucian found himself walking to the woman's side. He flashed his best smile, but when that just made fear curl to life in her eyes, he gave up the smile and slid into her mind instead. Controlling one was better than having to control sixty.

"You can't be serious?" Bricker gasped minutes later when Lucian opened the back doors of the van and the man caught sight of the large, now empty suitcase.

"You come up with an alternate method to get her inside without having to erase the memories of half the hotel clients and I'd be happy to go along with it," Lucian said as he set the suitcase on the van floor. He didn't know what all the fuss was. It was a huge suitcase, lots of room. It had wheels that would make it easy to maneuver, was cloth so she wouldn't suffocate, and she wouldn't have to be in it long. It was a short walk to the elevator, a quick ride up, then a stroll to their suite of rooms... and she wasn't even really conscious. It wasn't like she would ever know.

Mortimer finally gave a helpless shrug. Letting his breath out, Bricker peered down at the woman writhing in his arms, then glanced up at Lucian. "Okay, open the case."

Lucian flipped the lid open, then glanced around to be sure no one was in the parking lot to see as Bricker set Leigh into it. The only person around was the woman who owned the suitcase, and she was asleep in the driver's seat of her car. Mortimer would bring the suitcase back when they were through with it and erase the whole episode from her memory. Lucian had already slipped a fifty dollar bill into her purse for the use of the suitcase. She would recall it as a fifty she'd found on the floor of the parking garage. Lucian hated being beholden to people, whether they remembered it or not.

"Maybe I should leave it unzipped a couple of inches to make sure she gets enough air," Bricker said thoughtfully.

Lucian turned back to the interior of the van to see that Leigh was already in the suitcase and Bricker had it half zipped up. As he'd thought, there was lots of room. With her seated at the bottom, knees pressed close to her chest and head resting against them, there had to be six inches of space above her head.

"I'll take the bottom to lift her out," Mortimer said once Bricker had the zipper closed except for an inch at the top.

Lucian moved out of the way to give the men room, then glanced at his watch. It had only been twenty minutes since he'd called Bastien. If they got through this quickly, he could catch a good four or five hour nap before he had to wake up to head to the airport. He grimaced at the idea. He'd rather get eight hours, but five was better than the none the other two men would get.

"All set." Bricker followed the suitcase out of the back of the van and slammed the doors closed.

Nodding, Lucian turned to lead the way to the elevator. He pressed the call button, then glanced back to see that the men were only halfway there. Bricker was pulling the suitcase, but both he and Mortimer were moving slowly, fussing over bumping it too much.

Lucian bit his tongue on the reminder that she was unconscious, and turned back as the elevator arrived. He nodded at the couple who stepped out, then stepped on board and pressed the hold button as he waited for Mortimer and Bricker to reach him. He thought he showed amazing patience by not commenting when they finally reached the elevator. Lucian remained silent as they lifted the suitcase over the small crack at the door to prevent unnecessary jarring. The moment they were inside, he let the elevator doors close and pressed the button for their floor.

"Do you think she's okay in there?" Bricker asked as the elevator started upward.

"I don't know," Mortimer murmured. "Maybe we should check on her."

Before Lucian could snap that they were being idiots, the elevator suddenly gave a ding and slid to a stop. The doors opened, revealing the lobby and about two dozen people all waiting to crowd in.

Mouth tightening, he moved to the corner of the elevator where Bricker and Mortimer stood, positioning his body in front of the suitcase to prevent anyone from bumping it and discovering it held something more than clothes. Mortimer stood to the side of the case, protecting it from that angle, Bricker stood behind it, and the other side was against the back wall of the elevator. It was the best they could do.

Lucian ground his teeth together as body after body crowded into the small contraption. When not one single person more could squeeze in, those still waiting in the hall sagged and moved away from the doors. They closed, and the elevator finally continued upward.

One floor up it stopped again. Two people got off, one got on. At the next floor, one got off and two got on. But after that it was a slow, steady stream of people getting off, until by the eighth floor there were only themselves and two other couples. The others all eased a little away from each other, taking advantage of the extra space, but Lucian stayed right where he was. Leigh had begun to thrash about inside the suitcase, and the last thing he wanted was to step aside and let them see the cloth case bulging and shifting about.

He should have moved forward, though, he realized a moment later when he got a good whack in the back of the knees that nearly sent him to the floor. Grabbing the rail that ran around the elevator, he caught himself and ground his teeth as he was repeatedly pummeled through the bag. Distracted by the beating he was taking, it wasn't until Bricker began to whistle loudly that Lucian realized Leigh wasn't just thrashing about, she was moaning, too.

Noting that the other two couples were now looking around with confusion, searching for the source of the moans, Lucian began to whistle as well. Unfortunately, he had no idea what tune Bricker was whistling, so started an entirely new one. When that didn't wholly drown the sounds Leigh was making, Mortimer joined in with a tune of his own.

It was a great relief when the elevator dinged, the door opened, and the last two couples rushed out. Lucian moved away from the suitcase as the doors closed, relieved to note that the next floor was their own.

He rolled his eyes as Mortimer bent to rub one hand soothingly over the part of the suitcase that kept bulging outward, and murmured, "Its all right, Leigh. We're almost there."

"Don't do that," Bricker said. "You don't know what you're rubbing."

Shaking his head, Lucian turned away as the door opened onto their floor. Mortimer and Bricker were two of the toughest hardasses he knew, but they had been acting like a couple of old women ever since Leigh appeared. It was almost painful to watch.

Leaving the two men to bring their burden at their own speed, Lucian strode down the hall to the door of their two bedroom suite. He was seated on the side of his bed, kicking his shoes off, when he finally heard them enter.

Pushing his shoes aside, Lucian stood and began to undo his shirt as he walked to the door. He arrived just in time to see them finish unzipping the suitcase. Before they could open it, Leigh had thrown it open and tumbled out. Both men immediately let the suitcase drop and rushed to her side. It only took one look for Lucian to see that she wasn't conscious. She was pale, sweat was pouring off her, and she was now thrashing around on the ground, almost appearing to be in convulsions.

Lucian watched Mortimer and Bricker move her to the couch, but when they began to flap over her like a couple of useless old women, he decided it was time to step in and take control.

"One of you has to take the suitcase back, then head to the nearest hospital and get a portable IV set up and more blood."

"I'll go." Mortimer took the suitcase, zipped it up, then headed for the door. "How much blood?"

"Lot's of it. And another cooler, too," Lucian added, then glanced at the screaming woman and added, "And some drugs to kill the pain and make her sleep."

"What do I do?" Bricker asked as Mortimer hurried out of the room.

Lucian shrugged. "Watch her to be sure she doesn't hurt herself."

"Shouldn't I try to give her some blood, or something?" Bricker asked, concern on his face. It was obvious he was desperate to do something of use.

"You can try, but she'll probably just choke on it and vomit it back up at this stage."

"What?" Bricker asked with amazement. "Well, how the hell did people go through the turn before IVs and stuff?"

Lucian grimaced. "They suffered through it until their teeth finished changing, then we carefully allowed them to feed."

"How long will it take for her teeth to change?" Bricker asked.

Lucian shook his head wearily. "It's different with each person, Bricker. It depends on size, age, how much blood she got, how fast her natural metabolism is... "

The man looked so forlorn that Lucian nearly walked over to pat his back reassuringly. Instead, he turned back into his room. "I'm going to take a nap. Wake me if anyone calls."

Lucian woke up reluctantly a short time later, scowling as his consciousness was assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

Leigh was now obviously well into the throes of turning. She was shrieking long and hard and nonstop. The sound was desperate, grating, and nearly drowned out someone hammering at the door of the suite.

Growling under his breath, Lucian turned on his side, punched his pillow and closed his eyes determinedly, but when a man's shouting joined the screaming and banging, he cursed and rolled out of bed.

Irritated to have what little sleep he was going to get disturbed, Lucian strode to the door to the living room and jerked it open, stepped out, then simply stood there gaping.

Leigh was no longer on the couch where the men had first put her. She was now on the floor in the middle of the cleared room, thrashing, kicking, writhing, and rolling. But it was Bricker who had shocked Lucian. At first glance one could be forgiven for thinking he was mauling the girl. The large, dark vampire was lying sprawled sideways across her torso, one hand stretching up to try to hold both of hers, the other reaching down to try to keep hold of her ankles as he bounced, jerked, and jolted around on her undulating body.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lucian finally asked, having to shout to be heard over Leigh's screams.

"Trying to keep her from hurting herself!" Bricker yelled back, grabbing at the hand that got loose and began to hammer anything in its way; the floor, the couch, Bricker himself.

"Well there's someone at the door. Didn't you hear the knocking?" Lucian asked with exasperation.

Bricker turned a disbelieving look over his shoulder. "Yeah. But I'm a little busy here."

"Jesus Christ, Bricker! You're stronger than the woman. Restrain her," he snapped impatiently.

"I don't want to hurt her trying to keep her from hurting herself," the man snapped back.

The pounding at the door got louder, and the shouting now sounded like more than one voice. Sighing, Lucian moved toward it. "I'll get the damned door, then."

"Gee, thanks a lot." Bricker sounded less than appreciative.

Lucian opened the door to find himself staring at three men: a diminutive man in a suit, who was obviously the manager; and two large beefy guys in security uniforms. He forced them all backward as he stepped into the hall, then pulled the door closed behind him to shut out the screaming. It didn't work very well -- the screams were muffled but still voluble.

"We've had some complaints about the noise," the manager began, his voice trembling with outrage, then he gave up all pretense at polite inquiry and snapped, "What the hell is going on in there, Mr. Argeneau?"

Lucian didn't even bother to try to explain. It was impossible to explain anyway. Instead, he slid into the mind of the manager and took control, blanking his thoughts. He then turned his attention to each of the security guards. Within moments the men were on their way back to the elevator, the entire incident removed from their memory. Lucian watched them onto the elevator, then turned to open the door to the suite and found it locked. And he hadn't thought to bring the key-card with him. He knocked, but knew it was a useless endeavor. There was no way Bricker would hear him over the racket going on inside.

He slumped against the door, giving up any hope of getting back inside any time soon.

Lucian was nodding off outside the suite door when someone shook his shoulder. Blinking his eyes open, he lifted his head and jumped quickly to his feet when he saw Mortimer standing over him, holding a large cooler.

"What are you doing out here?" Mortimer handed him the cooler so he could pull out his own key card and slide it into the lock. The light turned green and he opened the door.

Lucian just shook his head and moved past him. He was too tired to bother with explanations. As Mortimer rushed over to help Bricker restrain the woman, Lucian set the cooler on the coffee table, which had been moved across the room, probably to prevent Leigh from slamming her head into it.

The first thing Lucian looked for were the drugs. Spotting the syringes and ampoules, he took them out, selected the one most likely to silence and hopefully still the woman, and inserted the needle. He drew the liquid into the syringe as he crossed to where both men were now wrestling with Leigh, and knelt to jerk the sleeve of her blouse up her arm. Holding her arm firmly with one hand, he used the other to inject her. She went silent and still almost before he removed the needle from her arm.

Grunting with satisfaction, Lucian stood and walked back to the coffee table. He set the syringe on it, then reached into the cooler for one of the bags of blood. Slapping it to his teeth, he dropped into one of the overstuffed chairs and let his head drop wearily back and his eyes close.

Lucian stayed like that, ignoring the murmur of Mortimer and Bricker's voices until the bag was empty. Then he lifted his head and opened his eyes as he pulled the empty blood bag from his mouth.

The two men had moved Leigh back onto the couch, he saw. They'd situated her with pillows and a blanket, set up an IV of blood that ran down into her arm, and were now both fussing over her. Bricker was wringing out a cool cloth and using it to wash the sweat off her neck, hands, and lower arms, while Mortimer placed another cloth over her forehead, left it for a minute, then took it, dipped it in the water, wrung it out, and placed it back on her forehead again.

Lucian found himself just gaping. He'd never seen anything like it. These two were hard, heartless hunters. What had gotten into them?

The phone on the table beside him rang, and he reached over to pick it up. Relief coursed through him at the sound of Bastien's voice.

"You got lucky," his nephew announced. "One of the directors was supposed to fly from Lincoln, Nebraska, to California today, but business is keeping him another day, so he doesn't need the plane. It's coming to pick you up in Kansas."

"Hmm," Lucian murmured. "What time will it get here?"

"If you leave for the airport now, you might just get there first."

Lucian sat up abruptly. "That quickly?"

"It's on the way now, and Lincoln's a hell of a lot closer than Toronto," Bastien pointed out.

"Yes, but, I have to -- "

"I already ordered a limo for you," Bastien interrupted soothingly. "It should be there any minute, and I arranged with the rental company to pick up your car from the hotel parking garage."

Lucian opened his mouth to say he'd still need it. He had no intention of getting on the plane. He was going to put Leigh on it, have Thomas pick her up at the airport and deliver her to Marguerite's for his sister-in-law to look after. However, he changed his mind and let the order go. They didn't need two vehicles. He could ride in the van with Mortimer and Bricker. They'd only ended up with both the car and truck because the boys had flown in the day before him. Since they were busy gathering information on Morgan, he'd rented a car rather than take a taxi to the hotel. Lucian hated taxis. As far as he was concerned, taxi drivers all drove as if they had a death wish... and they talked too much. How could they claim to be concentrating on traffic, traffic lights, and pedestrians with their mouths constantly flapping?

"Is there anything else you needed?" Bastien asked.

"No," Lucian said abruptly. "That's fine."

"Good, then you'd better get moving."

Lucian thought Bastien might have said good-bye, but wasn't sure. He was already setting the phone down.